now, sir,’ she whispered. ‘So as not to disturb the guests.’
To save themselves the trouble, more like. ‘But you knew the room was occupied?’
‘Yes, a twin-bedded, let as a single.’
‘Had he ordered a newspaper or early-morning tea?’
‘No, sir. That’s why I didn’t go in till going on ten, to make the bed, like.’
‘And what was your first impression on entering the room?’
‘The, the stuffiness, sir.’ She put a hand over her mouth and Jackson hoped fervently she was not about to vomit. ‘Then I saw the gentleman sitting by the window, and that neither of the beds had been used. So I said “Sorry!” and started to go out again, but he looked kind of queer, so I went a bit closer, and — and then I could see —’
She sat gazing piteously at Webb, tears streaming down her face.
‘It’s all right, Maggie, you’re doing very well. Did you notice anything else — anything in the room out of place, for instance?’
‘The other chair was pulled round, like, to face the one he was in,’ she said hesitantly. ‘And it looked like someone had been sitting on the end of the bed.’
Webb leant forward. ‘Did it now? As though two people had been with him?’
‘I — I suppose so, sir.’
‘Any cups, glasses, cigarette stubs?’
She shook her head, wiping her cheek with her hand. ‘Did you touch anything? Anything at all?’
She stared at him with frightened eyes. ‘I — I might have straightened the bedspread, sir. Sort of automatic, like.’
Webb closed his eyes briefly, hoping the spontaneous gesture wouldn’t scupper the SOCOs’ chances of lifting vital fibres.
‘Anything in the wastepaper basket?’ Such as a passport, some plane tickets, a clutch of credit cards? It had been empty when he’d glanced into it.
‘I didn’t look,’ she confessed miserably. Nor could he blame her.
‘Did you go into the bathroom?’
‘No, sir. Once I saw he was — dead, I just ran out calling for Mrs Anderson. She’s in charge of our floor, sir.’
Another hazard loomed. ‘And what did Mrs Anderson do?’ he asked heavily.
‘She came in and had a look for herself.’
‘And did she touch anything?’
‘No, and she said I mustn’t neither. Then she phoned for Mr Diccon.’
‘From the phone in the room?’
‘No, the one in the housemaids’ room.’
Thank heaven for Mrs Anderson. He could leave her interview to someone else.
‘Right, Maggie, I don’t think we have any more questions for you. Thank you for your help.’
She nodded and crept from the room, closing the door softly. Webb stretched and looked at his watch. ‘You’ve been remarkably forbearing, Ken. Do you know it’s almost two?’
Jackson grinned. ‘My stomach could have told you, Guv.’
‘Let’s go along to the bar and challenge them on the pie-and-pint stakes. I need a word with the barman, anyway. He might have spotted our lad as one particular needle in his haystack.’
*
Fortunately, the barman was one of those who’d been on duty the previous day. The lunch-time rush was now over and, having heard all the excitement, he was more than ready to chat to the detectives.
‘We’re trying to discover what our chap did after arriving at the hotel,’ Webb said, having first placed his order to placate Jackson. ‘Since it was around one o’clock he could easily have come in here.’
The barman shrugged. ‘Wish I could help, sir, but the place was going like a fair. One solitary gent —’
‘We’re hoping he might have met someone.’
‘People were meeting each other all over the place. It’s what they come here for.’
Webb took a long draught of his beer. ‘Come to think of it, he might have met two people. Is that any help?’
‘Not with the conference mob in at the time.’ He paused. ‘The only bloke I remember is one who lost someone rather than met them.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, he ordered a malt whisky and went to sit down. Then a few minutes later he came back
To save themselves the trouble, more like. ‘But you knew the room was occupied?’
‘Yes, a twin-bedded, let as a single.’
‘Had he ordered a newspaper or early-morning tea?’
‘No, sir. That’s why I didn’t go in till going on ten, to make the bed, like.’
‘And what was your first impression on entering the room?’
‘The, the stuffiness, sir.’ She put a hand over her mouth and Jackson hoped fervently she was not about to vomit. ‘Then I saw the gentleman sitting by the window, and that neither of the beds had been used. So I said “Sorry!” and started to go out again, but he looked kind of queer, so I went a bit closer, and — and then I could see —’
She sat gazing piteously at Webb, tears streaming down her face.
‘It’s all right, Maggie, you’re doing very well. Did you notice anything else — anything in the room out of place, for instance?’
‘The other chair was pulled round, like, to face the one he was in,’ she said hesitantly. ‘And it looked like someone had been sitting on the end of the bed.’
Webb leant forward. ‘Did it now? As though two people had been with him?’
‘I — I suppose so, sir.’
‘Any cups, glasses, cigarette stubs?’
She shook her head, wiping her cheek with her hand. ‘Did you touch anything? Anything at all?’
She stared at him with frightened eyes. ‘I — I might have straightened the bedspread, sir. Sort of automatic, like.’
Webb closed his eyes briefly, hoping the spontaneous gesture wouldn’t scupper the SOCOs’ chances of lifting vital fibres.
‘Anything in the wastepaper basket?’ Such as a passport, some plane tickets, a clutch of credit cards? It had been empty when he’d glanced into it.
‘I didn’t look,’ she confessed miserably. Nor could he blame her.
‘Did you go into the bathroom?’
‘No, sir. Once I saw he was — dead, I just ran out calling for Mrs Anderson. She’s in charge of our floor, sir.’
Another hazard loomed. ‘And what did Mrs Anderson do?’ he asked heavily.
‘She came in and had a look for herself.’
‘And did she touch anything?’
‘No, and she said I mustn’t neither. Then she phoned for Mr Diccon.’
‘From the phone in the room?’
‘No, the one in the housemaids’ room.’
Thank heaven for Mrs Anderson. He could leave her interview to someone else.
‘Right, Maggie, I don’t think we have any more questions for you. Thank you for your help.’
She nodded and crept from the room, closing the door softly. Webb stretched and looked at his watch. ‘You’ve been remarkably forbearing, Ken. Do you know it’s almost two?’
Jackson grinned. ‘My stomach could have told you, Guv.’
‘Let’s go along to the bar and challenge them on the pie-and-pint stakes. I need a word with the barman, anyway. He might have spotted our lad as one particular needle in his haystack.’
*
Fortunately, the barman was one of those who’d been on duty the previous day. The lunch-time rush was now over and, having heard all the excitement, he was more than ready to chat to the detectives.
‘We’re trying to discover what our chap did after arriving at the hotel,’ Webb said, having first placed his order to placate Jackson. ‘Since it was around one o’clock he could easily have come in here.’
The barman shrugged. ‘Wish I could help, sir, but the place was going like a fair. One solitary gent —’
‘We’re hoping he might have met someone.’
‘People were meeting each other all over the place. It’s what they come here for.’
Webb took a long draught of his beer. ‘Come to think of it, he might have met two people. Is that any help?’
‘Not with the conference mob in at the time.’ He paused. ‘The only bloke I remember is one who lost someone rather than met them.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, he ordered a malt whisky and went to sit down. Then a few minutes later he came back
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