FINDING WHERE MILLY AND MR. DOUGLAS had gone wasn’t difficult. They were in the same millinery shop on the corner they’d been going to when I went to look for Mr. McSwain, and from Mr. Douglas’s glazed-over expression, I suspected they had been there ever since I’d left them.
“Cassie, which hat do you like better?” Milly modeled a large, floppy green thing and an equally large wide-brimmed straw hat, both several years out of date. “They’d need a little work, but the shape is good. If I shorten the brim and changed the ribbons and...”
I was tempted to point out that if she was willing to do that much work, she had similar hats already, but that would most likely trigger a search for something unlike anything she already owned, and that would take hours. At least she wasn’t asking for details of my meeting with Mr. McSwain. I glanced at Mr. Douglas, but he didn’t seem to have an opinion on anything. “The green,” I said, only because it seemed less work to alter it. Milly cheerfully went off to pay for it, and Mr. Douglas quickly suggested a return to the hotel so she wouldn’t have to carry it around. It seemed a morning in town with Milly did not go quite as he’d imagined it would.
On the way back, Milly proceeded to tell me all about what they had seen, which seemed to have been limited to the contents of the hat shop. Whenever she asked Mr. Douglas to give his views on something, he became very concerned about finding his way back to the hotel. As I could imagine exactly how Milly’s morning had gone without hearing her description, I listened with half-an-ear in case my name was mentioned in a way that required a response and considered what I had learned.
Mr. McSwain did not seem to be a good suspect. I didn’t think he was making up the difficulties with his back, or even exaggerating it for sympathy. Not if he paid a local boy several shillings a week to move what had clearly been light boxes and sweep up. And if his back prevented such simple tasks, it was unlikely he would be able to swim up to Miss Caldwell unnoticed, pull her under as we’d seen, and then swim away again underwater, which was the only way I could see the murder being committed. And his views on why Dr. Gaines hadn’t assisted seemed consistent with Mr. Langley’s assessment and with the man I’d met. That meant neither of the people from town were involved; it had to be one of the guests.
I knew I ought to be pleased by that. Ruling out any suspect made investigating easier, and it was certainly easier to run into another guest at the hotel and strike up a conversation and hope they said something unintentional than to go into town and find a reason to speak to strangers. But if it had been someone in town, that would have been a connection, a reason for her to have come here. And it might have led me to the reason she was killed.
~ * ~ * ~
When we arrived at the hotel, I expected Milly to suggest tea with Mr. Douglas, or at least a walk in the garden, but she seemed to be in a hurry to get her new hat safely put away, and I didn’t see any reason to stay without her. Mr. Douglas gave the barest token of disappointment at our departure, further confirming the idea that he had had more than enough talk of hats and ribbons for one day.
We’d barely made it through the door to our room when Milly said, “You were very quiet on the way back.”
“Noticeably so?” I hoped I hadn’t been rude, or worse, tipped off Mr. Douglas that he was a suspect. He did seem to be taking an interest in my investigation.
“Oh, not to Mr. Douglas. I kept talking to cover for you, so he didn’t notice a thing.”
I smiled a little. “And since I didn’t complain, you knew something was going on?”
Milly grinned back. “Something like that.”
“Now that I think I know how it was done, and I’ve ruled out the people who were there from town, I was just wondering which of the other guests could have held her under.”
Apparently, Milly had developed an interest in the case again. “Did she come here to meet someone? That would be a place to start.”
“If she was, Miss Morrison doesn’t think she’d seen him yet. But the reason for the trip is all very murky. I wonder where she got the idea to come here. I mean the hotel, not Bath in general. It doesn’t seem to be one of the more popular places. How did you and Randall choose this place?”
“There was an article on it in one of Randall’s newspapers. Or maybe it was an advertisement. In any case, it said that it had all the romance of Bath, but more privacy as it wasn’t in the main tourist area, and with the convenience of on-site bathing. It sounded just what we wanted. And the price was quite reasonable. I thought we’d have trouble booking rooms on such short notice, but they assured us they could accommodate any requests we had.”
“I can see how that would be appealing, both to a murderer and to Miss Caldwell if she was planning to meet a gentleman here.”
“I suppose.” I could tell Milly wasn’t quite certain what I meant about what appealed to the murderer being what would have appealed to Miss Caldwell for her secret rendezvous, and most likely what had appealed to her and Randall.
I didn’t bother to explain the appeal of privacy to a murderer. “It doesn’t help us find a connection, though, either to the place or one of the other guests. They all probably read about it in a similar sort of advertisement, which could have been in any sort of newspaper.”
“Maybe there isn’t a connection. Maybe they just picked this place at random. Or she picked it, and the murderer had to go along with it. Or maybe she wasn’t the right victim. Why would anyone want to kill her?”
“I’ve been assuming the motive was money. Her father is rich; I assume she has some from him, but we don’t know that’s the reason.” I leaned against the bed. “I wonder who would know.” As it was Milly, I added, “Aside from the killer, of course.”
“I suppose you can’t ask him, can you? Would Miss Morrison know?”
“She seems the best hope, but I don’t think they were particularly close at all. She didn’t really know why they came here to begin with. I wonder who made the reservation, Miss Caldwell or the person she was meeting?”
“Is it important? They ended up here either way.”
“It could tell us what the connection is. And it would be interesting to know whether the murderer chose this spot to meet or Miss Caldwell did. Still, it’s better than what we have, which is nothing.” I pushed myself away from the bed. “I’ll see if Miss Morrison is in her room.”
Miss Morrison was not in her room, which wasn’t a terrible thing. I was beginning to feel badly that I was bothering her so often with questions about her friend’s death. Even if they weren’t close, it was still a terrible and shocking occurrence. I was considering who else might know of a motive—the Bates sisters seemed to know most of the gossip, but Miss Caldwell wasn’t someone they’d known before and hadn’t really spoken to them while she’d been here, and Miss Grangeway was someone who might have been a companion here, but she didn’t seem to have been able to get away from her own chaperone long enough for a really good gossip—when I heard my name called. I turned and saw Mr. Fredrickson coming up the hallway with what seemed to be a large number of items from the shop in the lobby. As Mr. Fredrickson was alone, I paused to greet him.
“Miss Pengear, how are you feeling after the unfortunate incident?”
I didn’t want him to think he shouldn’t talk to me about it. “Quite well, thank you. I was just checking on Miss Morrison.” No sense in telling him I was investigating. “I helped her sort out some of Miss Caldwell’s things this morning. It’s a very difficult time for her, I’m sure.”
“I’ll have to tell Caroline, Mrs. Fredrickson, then. She was wondering if she should offer to help pack up, but then the girls started running around the grounds, and we had to try and stop them from running anyone down. She’ll be glad to know someone helped.”
He didn’t seem opposed to talking about the incident, and I had more or less ruled him out, so I asked, “Did you see anything when it happened?”
“So you are looking into it, then. Caroline heard the Bates sisters talking about you.” Seeing my expression he added, “I’m afraid you’re rather the talk of the place. Not gossip, mind you, just a sort of buzz under everything that one of the guests doesn’t think things are quite as the police see them.”
“Oh, I suppose I am poking around a bit.” I hoped I didn’t sound too disappointed. I never liked people to know I was investigating. It colored their answers, and it let the killer, if there was one, know to be careful of me at best, and want my silence at worst. Still, it wasn’t his fault people couldn’t keep their mouths shut, and I hoped hedging a bit would make it sound more like curiosity than a full-blown investigation, which it was quickly becoming if it hadn’t already fallen into that category.
Mr. Fredrickson didn’t seem to notice my concern, or if he did, he was polite enough to ignore it and answer my original question. “I’m afraid I won’t be any help. I was watching the baby, and Caroline had her hands full with the others, and when we realized what had happened, well, all we could think of was hurrying the children out of there as quickly as possible. Bribed them with the promise of sweets, I’m afraid.”
“Quite natural, though. You didn’t see anyone around, then?”
“Other than the children, no, we weren’t watching for anyone else.”
From what I remembered of the children, they needed a great deal of watching. “Thank you. And tell Mrs. Fredrickson it was very nice of her to think of Miss Morrison.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Mr. Fredrickson’s account made perfect sense and fit what we had observed, so I decided to tell Milly it was safe enough to remove him from our list of suspects unless some new evidence presented itself. At least I’d learned that one bit of information. And if I ruled out enough suspects, perhaps one of the remaining ones would reveal something incriminating if watched closely enough.
When I got back up to the room, Milly had gone, but she had left a note telling me she was planning to take tea in the garden with “the gentlemen.” I wasn’t certain which gentlemen she meant, but clearly she didn’t think she needed a chaperone anymore, although whether that was because she wasn’t interested in them or because she was, I didn’t like to think too hard on. I took the opportunity of having the room to myself to sort through what I’d learned so far. I sat at the desk with some Fellcroft Hotel notepaper from the drawer and a pen and noted down everything I had learned so far and then sat there, staring at what I’d written.
I was still staring at the list when Milly came in. “Have you solved it yet?” she asked as she dropped her hat on the desk beside my notes, inadvertently covering my writing with the ribbons.
I didn’t bother to move the ribbons aside. “No. I haven’t even made any progress. And it is so frustrating. We saw the murder committed. We know how it was done. There should be some clue to who did it.”
Milly sat down on the bed. “Doesn’t one of your police friends always say that eyewitness reports are the least reliable?”
“All of them do. But it still seems like we should have something.” Or perhaps I simply didn’t want to believe I was as bad a witness as everyone else.
Milly shrugged. “You always solve them in the end. Mr. Gibson was saying how dull everything’s become now. No one wants to do anything. I think he was trying to propose a trip somewhere, but Mr. Armstrong pointed out that most of the guests were already spending time in town. And then Mr. Longridge came over and...”
I stood up. The last thing I needed at the moment was a long list of all of Milly’s gentlemen and their opinions on the entertainment.
“Where are you going?”
“You were right about eyewitness accounts. I’m going to have a proper look at the scene of the crime.”
“Oh, but Mr. Fellcroft has the baths blocked off. Mr. Gibson said it was until the current group of guests leaves. I suppose he thought it would be insensitive to keep it open.”
I wondered how much of it was sensitivity and how much was knowing that, as none of the current guests would use the baths now, it would be expensive and rather pointless to keep the heat and fragrances going if there was no one there to appreciate it. Then I chided myself for being overly suspicious. Mr. Fellcroft was a nice man; he probably was upset by the incident. “That will make it easier to poke around, then. Do you need anything while I’m down there?” It seemed safe enough to ask since she’d just eaten, and it would forestall any offers to accompany me.
“No, I’m going to rest a bit. Good luck.”
“Thank you, I think I’ll need it.”