Chapter Three

 

Soon Emma was parked up outside the motel. Even at lunchtime on a sunny day it was a depressing place. The traffic from the main road droned in the background and she could see across the car park to the petrol station, with the café set off to the right. She walked towards the motel and joined a group of people standing outside reception. She glanced in – it had a slightly worn dark carpet, small lobby, and white chipboard reception desk.

She was greeted by the uniform, who was strangely subdued, even worried. All thoughts that he was somehow winding up CID evaporated.

'Good that you're here. I've summoned everyone else – the coroner and scene of crimes. But you should have a look first. There's the manager over there, he'll sort you out. It's room one two seven, end of one of the ground floor corridors.'

Emma's disquiet increased when the manager gave her a passkey and directions but refused to accompany her to the room. She went through the reception and suddenly understood why everyone was stood outside. Someone, presumably the chambermaid who'd found the body and then wet herself, had sat down in the only chair and then thrown up on the carpet. Given that reception was a small room with a glass front and one door into the rest of the hotel, the smell was intolerable on a hot day. She went through into the motel, which was now strangely quiet. It was the period between checkout and in so it should've been busy with the sound of hoovers as the rooms were turned around. But she'd seen all the other chambermaids outside.

What had she walked into? Finally she got to the room and slid the passkey through the lock. At first, it was just a normal room, bathroom off to the left making a narrow corridor. But when she got into the room and looked at the bed, she had a shock.

A head was fixed to the wall, looking at her.

She blinked, and then forced herself to examine the rest of the room. The body was lying across the bed, one arm hanging down to the floor. There was some sort of bracket screwed into the wall to support the head. And the air conditioning had been turned on to full cold. The head was at the height it would have been if the man had been sat on the bed, bent at the waist and leaning against the wall. And the feet were in the right place too – that was obviously the position he had fallen from.

She nodded slowly to herself. There was no point in trying to explain this over the phone. And no doubt whatsoever that it was anything but a murder.

She didn't dare move, for fear of contaminating evidence, so she stayed stock still and let her eyes roam over all the details. Not much blood on the bed or wall, so he was killed elsewhere and brought here. There was a bright red and white poster on the small desk below the television. That stood out, as the only other belongings in the room were the usual – an open overnight bag, a jacket over the chair and a laptop on the desk, half under the poster.

Not theft then, she thought. And she could smell blood, and death in the air. She stepped back into her footsteps and looked into the bathroom. The smell was stronger there and she could see small flecks of reddish brown here and there.

She carefully backed out of the room and removed her gloves and overshoes [No mention of her putting these on?]after locking the door. First job would be to find out if the victim was the occupant. If so, then he was most likely killed in the bathroom and dragged to the bed.

She walked back down the corridor to be met by the pathologist and the scenes of crimes.

'Watch yourselves, lads,' she said. 'It's a bit of a weird one. Proper spooky.'

They all looked at her funny, but nodded and muttered thanks.

'So, you've seen him then,' the manager asked. Emma nodded. 'Eileen, the chambermaid, said that he turned to look at her, but he can't have done, can he?'

'No, he's definitely dead. No doubt about that.' She looked at the group of chambermaids who were chatting and smoking, a bit off to one side. 'Is Eileen here? Can we interview her?'

'No, I'm sorry, she was obviously in a state. I called her a taxi to take her home and get cleaned up if nothing else. I'll give you her details. But there would've been no point anyway. She hasn't said a word except to give us the room number.'

'Okay. Well if you give us her details, we can take it from there. Can we also have the details of who had room one two seven last night?'

Emma and the manager went back through the reception and into his office where he gave her all the information she needed.