Inspector Colbeck's Casebook (18 page)

BOOK: Inspector Colbeck's Casebook
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He was standing behind the reception desk. On the wall behind him were rows of hooks on which keys were dangling. They caught Colbeck’s eye.

‘How many master keys are there to the rooms?’ he asked.

‘There are only two, sir. I hold one and the housekeeper has the other. She went off duty at six o’clock this evening.’

‘The theft occurred while we were having dinner. That would seem to eliminate the housekeeper – unless she sneaked back here unseen, of course.’

‘Mrs Garritty is above reproach, sir. She’s been with us for years.’

‘Then somebody else gained access to our room. The puzzling thing is that the intruder chose to take my wife’s sketchbook. Why? It’s of no use to anyone else. There were far more valuable items in the room yet they are still there.’

‘I’ll do my very best to trace the missing book, sir.’

‘Why didn’t you offer to trace the brooch belonging to the lady we overheard complaining to you earlier on?’

‘That was a different matter, Inspector.’

‘Not necessarily – its disappearance may well be the work of the same thief who took the sketchbook. Have many other things have vanished from rooms here?’

‘Two or three,’ admitted the manager, uneasily.

‘Do you have a hotel detective?’

‘We don’t, Inspector.’

‘Well, you’ve got one now,’ said Colbeck, looking him in the eye, ‘and I mean to get to the bottom of this. I’ll speak to the housekeeper the moment she arrives tomorrow. In the meantime, I suggest you look closely at every member of your staff to assure yourself that none of them could have been responsible for this spate of thefts. Don’t be misled by feelings of loyalty,’ he warned. ‘There’s a thief under this roof and you are paying his wages.’

The manager was clearly shaken. Recovering his composure, he manufactured a soothing smile and spoke with quiet determination.

‘Mrs Colbeck will get her sketchbook back,’ he said. ‘I give you my word on that, Inspector.’

 

Madeleine was not content to leave the detective work to Colbeck. When he went off to speak to the manager, she explored the building. At the end of the corridor was a servants’ staircase with bare stone steps. She descended to the ground floor. Facing her was a door with the word
HOUSEKEEPER
painted on it in bold capitals. She knocked hard but got no response. When she tried the handle, she found that the door was locked. Madeleine was about to go back up the stairs when a young man in the uniform of a hotel porter came into the passageway. He was very surprised to see her.

‘That’s the servants’ staircase,’ he said, deferentially. ‘Guests use the main one. Shall I show you the way, madam?’

‘I know the way, thank you.’ He turned to leave. ‘No, wait a moment …’

He faced her again. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’

‘How long have you worked here?’

‘It’s almost a year now.’

‘It’s a very comfortable hotel.’

‘For the guests, it is,’ he said, ruefully. ‘Staff quarters are a little different.’

‘Have there ever been reports of theft here?’

‘I’ve never heard of any – unless you count the gentleman whose spectacles vanished. He got very angry about that, by all accounts. The manager said that he was so forgetful that he probably didn’t even bring them to the hotel.’

‘My husband and I heard a lady complaining about a missing brooch.’

‘I don’t know anything about that.’

She looked at the steps. ‘Who’s allowed to use this staircase?’

‘The housekeeper and her staff,’ he replied. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I just wondered.’

‘Is there anything else, madam?’

‘No, no – thank you for your help.’

After shooting a wistful glance at the staircase, the porter turned on his heel and walked away. Madeleine went slowly back up the steps. When she reached the first floor, she went into the corridor that led to her room. She then heard the tap-tap of feet and turned to see a well-dressed woman going down the steps. It was a momentary encounter because, once she realised she’d been seen, the woman spun round and dashed back upstairs.

 

Colbeck and Madeleine compared their respective findings and they talked well into the night. He eventually dozed off, wondering why anyone would steal a sketchbook that they could buy fairly cheaply; and she fell asleep, asking herself who the mystery woman had been. Colbeck and Madeleine slept in each other’s arms. Neither of them heard something being pushed under their door.

 

When they awoke next morning, they had a pleasant surprise. The sketchbook had magically reappeared with Madeleine’s drawings of
Puffing Billy
intact. She was so determined not to lose it again that she took it down to breakfast and tucked it behind her on the chair. Now that they had it back in their possession, there was no need to talk to the housekeeper. As soon as the meal was over, therefore, Colbeck went to the reception area to challenge the manager.

‘Why were you so certain that the sketchbook would be returned?’

‘It was just a feeling I had, sir,’ said Whitchurch, glibly. ‘When the thief realised that he would get next to nothing for it, he decided to give it back.’

‘I’ve spent my career dealing with thieves,’ Colbeck told him, ‘and I’ve never met one who would even consider returning stolen property. If it’s no use to them, they simply toss it away or destroy it. You
knew
, didn’t you?’

Whitchurch feigned bafflement. ‘I don’t understand, Inspector.’

‘You understand me all too well. You knew who took it from our room and you probably knew who took that lady’s brooch as well. I believe that a pair of spectacles was also
taken. I daresay that the same thief took those.’ He locked his gaze on the manager. ‘What’s his name?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said the other, briskly.

‘I think you’re lying.’

‘Why on earth should I do that, sir?’

‘That’s what I’m trying to find out.’ Colbeck remembered something. ‘When that other guest complained about the loss of her brooch, you promised to reimburse her. Couldn’t you have arranged for that item to be returned as well?’

‘I’m very sorry, sir, but I don’t follow.’

‘Then let me put it more bluntly. I suggest that you are either a conjurer who can pluck things out of the air or you are in league with the thief. How else can you predict the return of a sketchbook?’

Whitchurch squared his shoulders. ‘I really don’t see what all the fuss is about, Inspector Colbeck. Your wife’s property was lost and now it’s been returned. I would have thought it was a cause for celebration and not an excuse to accuse me of crimes that I didn’t commit.’ His smile was icy. ‘If you have incontrovertible evidence that I was an accomplice, please arrest me and I will defend myself robustly in court. If, however, you are unable to furnish any proof in support of your insulting allegation, I’ll ask you to let me get on with my job.’ He brushed an imaginary crumb off his lapel. ‘You and Mrs Colbeck are just two of a large number of guests that I have to look after. I apologise for any inconvenience caused but, as far as I’m concerned, the matter is now settled.’

At that moment, an elderly couple came into view. They had come to check out of the hotel and the manager
switched his attention to them. Colbeck was irked. Certain that the man was hiding something, he was unable to interrogate him in the presence of others. When more guests converged on the manager, Colbeck decided to postpone his questioning until later.

 

Madeleine was as eager as her husband to find out what had really happened. While he was talking to the manager, she was ascending the servants’ staircase. Instead of leaving it at the first-floor level, however, she carried on to the floor above then walked slowly along the corridor. Madeleine was startled when a door ahead of her suddenly opened and an old woman crept out before closing and locking the door. She was of medium height and wore an elegant dress. Although she looked like a guest, she headed towards the servants’ staircase. When she saw Madeleine in front of her, she gave an apologetic giggle and went off to the main staircase at the other end of the corridor. There was an almost childlike glee in the way that she scurried along. Madeleine wondered if it was the same woman that she’d seen on the staircase the night before. The other one had looked younger but, then, the gaslights had shed an uncertain light. Madeleine could have been deceived. The similarity in their build and attire inclined her to decide that it had been the same woman. Why was she so intent on using the wrong staircase?

When she returned to her room and told him what she’d seen, Colbeck provided a possible answer to the question.

‘Perhaps the lady you saw is the thief,’ he said, thoughtfully. ‘It’s not the manager who’s the accomplice, it’s that porter who was about to go up a staircase which was
barred to him. If he took luggage up to the guest rooms, he’d be able to advise the woman what she could steal.’ He checked himself. ‘But why pick on a sketchbook and a pair of spectacles?’

‘There was something odd about the woman,’ recalled Madeleine. ‘She was in what I can only call a state of excitement.’

‘That’s easily explained,’ he said, fondly. ‘Whenever I look at you, I’m always in a state of excitement.’

She smiled at the compliment. ‘Be serious, Robert.’

He kissed her. ‘I
am
serious.’

‘I’m going back up there,’ she decided.

‘Then I’ll come with you.’

Once again, Madeleine took the sketchbook with her. There was no way that she was going to part with
Puffing Billy
again. They went up the main staircase to the second floor and found it empty. Halfway along it was an alcove so they were able to conceal themselves from view. It was a long wait and they were tempted to abandon their vigil as an act of folly. Then they heard footsteps coming up the stone steps. A face peered into the corridor. Thinking that it was safe to do so, a young man crept into view and knocked four times in quick succession on a door. It was opened almost immediately and he went inside. After the door was shut, they heard the key turn in the lock.

‘It’s that porter I met last night,’ said Madeleine.

‘He’s obviously gone to visit the thief to see what her latest haul is.’

‘But she didn’t come out from
that
room, Robert. She came out of one on the other side of the corridor.’

‘Did she lock it afterwards?’ he asked.

‘Yes, she did.’

‘Then she must have a master key. She’s posing as a guest at the hotel so that she can let herself into rooms that she knows are unoccupied. That young porter has given the game away,’ he said, stepping out of the alcove. ‘Thanks to you, we’ve caught them red-handed.’

He led Madeleine to the room that the porter had entered and rapped on the door with his knuckles. When there was no sound from within, he banged with his fist. A woman’s voice called out that she would be there in a moment. In fact, it was over a minute before the door opened a few inches and an attractive face peeped around it. Madeleine knew at once that it was not the old lady she’d seen earlier. This one was much younger and – though they only got a glimpse of it – was wearing a silk dressing gown. Before he could speak, Colbeck felt her grab his arm.

‘Do excuse us,’ said Madeleine to the woman. ‘We’ve obviously come to the wrong room.’ She pulled her husband away. ‘I think it must be at the other end of the corridor.’

The woman didn’t linger. Closing the door firmly, she locked it behind them.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Colbeck, bemused.

‘We were misled, Robert.
That
was the woman I saw on the staircase last night and she wasn’t letting an accomplice in.’ Madeleine smiled uncomfortably. ‘I should have noticed how handsome that young porter was because I fancy that one of the guests certainly did.’

‘Oh, so it was an assignation,’ he realised. ‘When her young friend didn’t turn up last night, she came down the servants’ staircase looking for him, and fled when she spotted you. Oh dear!’ he exclaimed. ‘I can’t pretend to
condone what may be going on in that room but it’s no business of ours and I’m embarrassed that we interrupted them.’ He scratched his head. ‘What do we do now?’

‘I’ll stay here in case the older lady comes back.’

‘Then I’ll tackle the manager again. Something very strange is going on in this hotel – and I don’t mean the secret liaison that we just stumbled upon. The manager is involved somehow and I intend to discover exactly how.’ He glanced at the sketchbook. ‘Would you like me to look after
Puffing Billy
for you?’

‘No,’ replied Madeleine, hugging the sketchbook more tightly. ‘I’m not letting go of him until we get safely back home.’

When he got back downstairs, Colbeck saw that the assistant manager was handling enquiries from guests. Andrew Whitchurch had retired to his office. Thinking that the man was deliberately avoiding him, Colbeck went across to the office and bunched his hand to knock. Before he could do so, he heard sounds of a heated argument on the other side of the door. He returned to the assistant manager.

‘Mr Whitchurch appears to have company,’ he said.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Is it yet another guest complaining that something has been stolen?’

‘I don’t think so, sir.’

‘I distinctly heard a woman’s voice raised in accusation.’

‘That would be Mrs Whitchurch,’ said the other. ‘It’s the manager’s wife.’

 

Hidden in the alcove, Madeleine did not have long to wait this time. The old woman she had seen earlier made a
second appearance, creeping stealthily along the corridor. She then let herself into a room and shut the door silently behind her. Madeleine came out of her hiding place at once. The woman had gone into a different room to the one she’d earlier left and her furtive manner confirmed that she had no right to be there. Madeleine had found the thief at last.

It was less than a minute before the woman came out of the room, clutching a pair of slippers. When she saw Madeleine waiting for her, she giggled. Making no attempt to run away, she held up the slippers as if they were some kind of trophy. Madeleine showed her the sketchbook.

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