Read Online Destination Murder by Jessica Fletcher - Free Book Online Page A

words. Was he making fun of me?
    “Since you’re claiming he was murdered, maybe you can point a finger at the perpetrator. Any ideas who killed him?”
    “Detective,” I said, not entirely successful in keeping frustration out of my voice, “without proof, neither you nor I can state with authority that he was murdered. All I am saying is that the possibility exists. As for who might have wanted him dead, let me just add that he was not the most popular person on the train. Now, it seems to me that all this speculation can be quickly and satisfactorily put to rest by an autopsy, which I assume will be conducted, considering the circumstances of his death. The glasses from which he drank might also be of value in making a determination. I asked the train staff not to remove them.”
    “Very thoughtful.”
    “Am I excused now?” I asked.
    “Of course. We’ll be interviewing everyone who was with the deceased.”
    “On the train?”
    “We’ll get names and addresses, of course, and interview individuals at the hotel in Whistler. I’ve agreed with the management of BC Rail to allow the train to continue on up to Prince George.”
    “I see. What about the body?”
    “It will be driven back down to Vancouver for an autopsy.”
    “I assume his wife and stepson will accompany it.”
    He nodded.
    “Well, I hope I’ve been of help,” I said. “Good day, Detective.”
    “Oh, you’re not rid of me yet, Mrs. Fletcher. I’ll be your new passenger all the way to Prince George. I’m sure we’ll have lots more to talk about along the way.”

Chapter Five
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Detective Marshall and the two uniformed RCMP officers went row to row noting each person’s name, address, phone number, and where they were planning to stay following the train trip. When that process was completed, Marshall got on the PA: “I’ve asked for additional detectives to be dispatched to your hotel to take statements. They’ll interview you in your rooms, and I ask that you remain there until you’ve been contacted. I assure you it will take only a few minutes of your time. Once you’ve given your statements, you’ll be free to enjoy everything Whistler has to offer. Thank you for your cooperation.”
    “Will we be continuing the trip?” Winston Rendell asked.
    “Yes, sir, you will be allowed to continue.” He didn’t mention that he’d be accompanying us.
    The check-in process at the hotel was swift and smooth, having been prearranged by BC Rail. We were staying at the Westin Resort and Spa, which had been voted by travel magazine readers the best ski-resort hotel in North America, and I wasn’t surprised. A spectacular lodge built with colorful native stone and soaring timbers, it was at once sophisticated and rustic. High ceilings in the public areas were offset by warm woods, patterned slate, and wood-burning fireplaces, giving even the largest spaces a cozy feeling.
    At the registration desk, I was handed an envelope containing my key and information about the resort. It included a flyer imploring us to not feed the black bears and reminding those whose suites were on lower floors to keep balcony doors closed when not in the room.
    “Any suggestions for what I might do this afternoon?” I asked the clerk who’d registered me.
    “Lots to do in Whistler,” she said. “Ever been on a gondola?”
    “As a matter of fact, I have,” I said.
    “The one up Whistler Mountain is terrific,” she said. “Here.” She handed me a discount coupon for the ride.
    “Sounds good to me.”
    When I turned away from the desk, I found myself face-to-face with Benjamin Vail, which surprised me. I thought he was accompanying his mother and his stepfather’s body back to Vancouver.
    “Hello, Benjamin.”
    He nodded but said nothing and took my place at the check-in desk.
    I rode the elevator up to the floor that had been reserved for members of the Track and Rail Club. Each of the resort’s 419 rooms was a suite, and