Read Online Death in an Ivory Tower (Dotsy Lamb Travel Mysteries) by Maria Hudgins - Free Book Online Page A

swanky Randolph Hotel, across the street from the Ashmolean Museum. I’d walked past the hotel several times and longed to see what it looked like inside but had been afraid to go in without a legitimate reason. I’d heard they had a Morse Bar, themed on the Inspector Morse TV shows starring the late, great, actor, John Thaw. I’d also been told the author, Colin Dexter, still lived in Oxford. The series had been filmed in Oxford. The Randolph was within easy walking distance, so I told Larry I’d go with him.
    Once there, I got a quick glimpse of the lobby—a tasteful, business-like space quite unlike the glitzy caverns you see in most of the newer hotels—before Larry nudged me toward the tea room. The menu had a bewildering variety of teas, all described in flowery prose, so I chose the most expensive one. I assumed this was going on Larry’s bill. The tea came with a pretty arrangement of little sandwiches and cakes.
    “So. You didn’t hear anything last night? Do they know when he died?”
    “I heard a commotion about two this morning. It woke me up and I went down and knocked on his door, but I got no answer. I knocked on Mignon’s door as well. She was there, but it was pretty obvious I’d woken her up.”
    “What makes you so sure you woke her up?”
    “She had that gravelly voice people have when they first wake up.”
    “She could have been faking.”
    “What?” This statement sort of shocked me. “Are you suggesting she was upstairs, on the next floor up, battling Bram, knocking over furniture, killing him in some way that left no marks, then, while I’m running down from fourth floor to third, she’s running from third to second, into her own room, closing the door and calmly opening it for me?”
    “Could be, if she heard you coming.”
    “Who commits murder in footie pajamas with teddy bears?”
    Larry grinned, slipped some more sugar into his tea. “Really? Teddy bears?” Larry wanted to know more about the strange noises I heard before I went to sleep. “I told you not to stay in that spooky old building. You should be staying here, where it’s not haunted.”
    “Oh, really? I rather feel like it is, by the ghost of Inspector Morse.”
    “Too bad, isn’t it? Did he have a family?”
    “He wasn’t married, and as far as Mignon told me, no children either. He had a mother and a couple of siblings.”
    Larry raised an eyebrow at the last little cake on our shared plate. I’d eaten all but one of the little sandwiches and he’d eaten all but one of the cakes.
    I said, “Go ahead. I don’t want it.”
    “Very sad. In the prime of life.” He popped the little cake in his mouth all at once and sucked icing from his manicured thumb. “To be taken so suddenly. I’m very sorry it happened.”
    “Come
on,
Larry. Sorry? He was a thorn in your side! Get real.” I could hardly believe I was talking to my major professor this way.
    Larry stared at me a minute. “I may have felt he didn’t have the stature to participate in a conference like this one, but I certainly did not want him to die.” He signaled our waiter for the check and signed it. “I was looking forward to a good old debate with the guy. I would have crushed him beneath my chariot wheels!” With a twinkle in his eyes, he folded his napkin and placed it on the table.
    I had no answer for that. Or, more accurately, I had no answer that wouldn’t have eliminated any chance I had of getting my PhD.
    I left the Randolph Hotel alone and hiked a couple of blocks to Waterstone’s bookstore. I automatically headed for the history section, then had another thought. Mignon Beaulieu had mentioned going out to see some friends today. Where might they be? Where might I find someone who might know someone who knew her? I was still thinking about Larry’s comment that Mignon could have been faking. That she might not have been asleep at all, but rather, engaged in combat with Bram Fitzwaring. It was a stretch, but still, I had