The Scent of Death--A Sukey Reyholds British police procedural (2 page)

They stood for a few moments in silence, looking down at the dead man. His eyes stared blankly through half-open lids; it seemed to Sukey that they held a vague expression of bewilderment, as if he was trying to make sense of what had happened to him. Traces of duckweed clung grotesquely to his forehead and the side of his face; a froth of bubbles clung to the mouth, only partially wiped away during the efforts at resuscitation.

‘Who found him?' asked Sukey.

‘A hotel employee, a young woman called Rosie. He was lying face down in the water and she went back to the house in a state of panic, screaming for help.'

‘We'll let the paramedics take him away and then we'd better contain the scene until we can establish exactly what happened,' said Vicky. ‘Will your chaps see to that, Rob?'

‘Sure,' said Drury.

‘We'll go in and get some statements.' They followed the directions to reception. A tall man with receding grey hair and a neatly trimmed beard was at the desk talking to a uniformed police constable whom neither Vicky nor Sukey had met before. He moved forward to greet them.

‘PC Bond,' he said, adding with a wry smile, ‘James Bond. And there are no prizes for guessing why I'm known as double-oh-seven.'

Sukey gave a sympathetic chuckle but Vicky remained straight-faced. ‘DS Armstrong and DC Reynolds,' she said briskly with a questioning glance at the man beside him.

‘This is Mr Justin Freeman,' Bond went on. ‘He's the organizer of the event Mr Rainbird was attending. All the other participants are waiting in the Orchard Room, which is where they were assembled when the news of the tragedy reached them.'

‘I thought that was the best thing to do,' said Freeman, who had not spoken during the introductions. ‘Forgive me, but I don't understand why members of the CID should be here. Surely this is nothing but a dreadful accident.'

‘There's no need for alarm,' said Vicky. ‘It's normal for the CID to be informed in any case of an unexpected death and we have no reason at this stage to assume there's anything suspicious about what happened to Mr Rainbird.' Freeman appeared re-assured, but he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his fingers. ‘Perhaps you could go and see them,' Vicky went on, ‘tell them we're here and say we shall need to take some details from them.'

‘Is it OK to let them leave the Orchard Room?'

‘Provided they don't leave the building.'

‘They'll be relieved at that. My guess is quite a few will be heading for the bar. I could do with a drink myself.'

‘That's fine.'

Vicky turned to the receptionist, a woman of about thirty with straight, neatly cut hair, wearing a blue blazer with a DM monogram on the pocket. ‘We need to speak to the person who found the body. Is there a private room we can use?'

‘Of course.' She raised the counter and beckoned them to go behind the desk. ‘The girl who found Mr Rainbird is already waiting in the manager's office. The manager's wife is with her; they're both pretty upset and Mr Chapman has given them a nip of brandy to calm them down.' She opened a door and ushered them into a room with a desk, a computer and two filing cabinets. A young woman was seated in front of the desk and an older woman sat beside her, holding one of her hands. She stood up when the detectives entered, but without releasing the younger woman's hand. ‘This is Mrs Chapman, our manager's wife,' said the receptionist. ‘These ladies are from the police and they'd like a word with Rosie.'

‘Thank you, Maxine,' said Mrs Chapman, a good-looking woman of about forty. Like Rosie, she was trembling; her eyes were wet and her voice was unsteady. ‘I'm Lily Chapman,' she explained. ‘I'm afraid we're both very upset – especially Rosie, of course, as she's the one who actually found him … that is to say –' at this point she drew a deep breath before saying – ‘found Mr Rainbird.'

‘It's understandable that you're upset,' said Vicky. ‘It's a dreadful thing to have happened and we'll try to make this as easy as possible for you.'

‘Thank you. Would you like to sit down? I can ask Maxine to fetch some chairs for you.'

‘No thank you, we're fine,' said Vicky. She looked down at the younger woman, whom Sukey judged to be in her mid-twenties. Her eyes were red and swollen and she clutched a handful of damp tissues, but appeared fairly calm. ‘Are you OK to answer a few questions, Rosie?' She nodded. ‘We understand you're the one who first saw Mr Rainbird's body in the water and came back to raise the alarm.'

‘I didn't realize it was Mr Rainbird,' said Rosie. ‘I just saw a shape in the water and when I looked I could see it was a man. I couldn't see his face but he was very still and I …' Her voice threatened to break but she controlled it with an effort and went on, ‘I think I must have screamed; anyway, I ran back into the house and asked for help and a couple of people ran out and … you said “Mr Rainbird's
body
”. He really is dead, then?' She looked up at Lily Chapman, who bit her lip and nodded. She too appeared not far from tears.

‘I'm afraid so,' said Vicky. ‘Would you mind telling us what you were doing by the lake?'

Rosie jumped as if she had been stung. ‘I was just out for a stroll. Surely you don't think that I …?'

‘I didn't say that,' Vicky interrupted with a hint of impatience. ‘Would you mind answering the question?'

‘But I hardly knew the gentleman … why would I …?' She appeared on the point of breaking down and Lily Chapman patted her shoulder and shot a slightly reproachful glance at Vicky.

‘Please, don't distress yourself,' said Sukey gently. ‘We're just trying to find out what happened, and we simply want to know if you saw anything – anything at all that attracted your attention and made you walk towards the lake.'

Rosie shook her head. ‘No, I saw nothing unusual. I often take a stroll down there after I've had my evening meal.'

‘What time would that be?'

‘The kitchen staff give us our meal about eight o'clock, after the guests have been served, so I suppose it was soon after half past eight – maybe a quarter to nine.'

‘You didn't hear anything, like a shout, for example, or the sound of anyone running?'

‘No.'

‘Was there anyone else around?'

‘I didn't see anyone.'

Sukey glanced at Vicky, who nodded and said, ‘Well, thank you, Rosie, that will be all for now.'

They went back to reception, where Maxine was sitting at the computer. Sukey noticed that her hands were shaking; evidently she too was affected by what had happened. ‘Most of the guests are in the bar,' she said, ‘but a few have gone down to the lake to try and view the scene of the crime. Morbid curiosity I suppose.'

‘I assure you, there's no suggestion of foul play,' Vicky snapped.

‘Sorry, just a figure of speech,' said Maxine. Her tone was civil but Sukey sensed that she found Vicky's manner irritating. ‘Anyway, your officers have been shooing them away.'

‘Quite right too.' Vicky was about to speak again when her phone rang. She took it from her pocket and moved away, spoke briefly and then beckoned to Sukey.

‘That was the doctor,' she said in a low voice. ‘He's at the morgue … says Rainbird suffered a blow to the back of the head before falling into the water.'

‘So we might have a murder on our hands,' said Sukey.

For the first time since their arrival at the hotel, Vicky's face showed a trace of amusement. ‘That'd spoil DI Rathbone's weekend, wouldn't it?'

V
icky called DI Rathbone and gave him the news. After a brief conversation she said, ‘Right, Guv, see you shortly.' She winked at Sukey as she ended the call. ‘He's not best pleased!' she said gleefully.

‘I take it he's joining us here.' Sukey glanced at her watch. ‘It's gone eleven. I'm surprised he didn't tell us to go through the formalities and say we'd all be back here first thing in the morning.'

‘It so happens he was having a drink with DCI Leach when I called, so he could hardly get out of it. My guess is it'll just be a token appearance, to make it known that there's a senior officer in charge.' She frowned suddenly. ‘I wonder why he feels he has to show up here now. When he was a mere sergeant he'd have taken charge at this stage and given out team orders, reporting directly to Mr Leach when he needed instructions how to proceed. Oh well,' she went on with a shrug, ‘he'd had years of experience as a sergeant – maybe I'm too recently promoted to be allowed to handle this on my own.'

‘Or Sir is conscious of his own status,' said Sukey. ‘Don't you think we ought to tell the manager and Mr Freeman that he's on his way?'

‘Yes, of course. You speak to the manager and I'll go and find Mr Freeman. We'll need statements from all the staff and the people attending the conference; we'll have to see what Sir says, but I don't think they'll take kindly to being questioned at this hour. Some of them may have already gone to their rooms. And ask Sergeant Drury to set up a round-the-clock guard on what is now a murder scene.'

‘Will do.' Sukey had a brief word with Maxine before going back to the lakeside. When she returned, Vicky was already in conversation with the manager, a stocky man in his fifties with florid features.

‘I've told Mr Freeman and Mr Chapman of the latest development,' she said. ‘Mr Freeman has full details of everyone at the conference; he's gone to his room to collect the list and Mr Chapman will have it photocopied for us.'

‘That'll be a great help,' said Sukey.

Moments later Freeman appeared and handed a folder to Vicky who passed it to Chapman.

‘I'll get Maxine to photocopy these for you right away,' the manager promised. ‘I'll be with you in a moment.'

‘I thought you'd like to have a copy of this weekend's programme,' said Freeman. He gave a folder to Vicky. ‘There are notes about the works we'll be listening to and it also includes the timetable and some background information about our courses in general.'

‘Thank you,' said Vicky. ‘Please sit down, Mr Freeman,' she went on, indicating a circle of armchairs in front of an open grate, on which the remains of a log fire were still glowing. ‘This must have come as a great shock.'

Freeman made a helpless gesture with his hands. ‘I just can't believe there's a murderer in our group.'

‘Let's not jump to conclusions,' said Vicky. ‘At the moment we're treating this as an unexplained death.'

‘I don't understand. What's the—?'

‘Never mind that now!' Vicky interrupted. ‘We need to ask you some questions.'

Seeing that Freeman was beginning to show signs of agitation and that Vicky's patience was wearing thin, Sukey hastily intervened. ‘I'm afraid we're not allowed to reveal any further information at this stage,' she explained. ‘It's against the rules.'

He shrugged. ‘OK. I suppose you have to follow procedure.'

‘I've just spoken to Detective Inspector Rathbone, who will take charge of this case from now on,' Vicky resumed. ‘He'll be with us shortly, so meanwhile perhaps you'd tell us something about this event you're running. How would you describe it?'

‘It's one of a number I organize during the year for music lovers. I call them musical weekends, but this one is rather special. It lasts a bit longer than most of the others and we end with a party on the last night.'

‘You're a music teacher?'

‘I lectured in music at Branwell College until my retirement five years ago. It was then that I started organizing these events.'

‘So you've been running them for five years?' Freeman nodded. ‘Are they always held at Dallington Manor?'

‘No, at various locations, but we always come here for the March one.'

‘What about the people who attend? Are they the same ones each time?'

‘Oh no, they tend to vary according to what's on the programme and how far they have to travel to the venue. We do have what you might call a nucleus of regular attendees.'

‘Was Mr Rainbird one of them?'

‘Oh yes, very much so.'

‘How did he get on with the other people in the party?'

Freeman thought for a moment before speaking. ‘Well enough I suppose, but I wouldn't describe him as a social animal – a bit of an oddball in some ways. He was very knowledgeable about music and always ready to talk about it or anything connected with it. I'm afraid he tended to flaunt his expertise and experience and some people were made to feel a bit – well, almost like novices you might say. He sometimes brought the score of a work such as a symphony or a piano concerto with him and I noticed him moving his hands as if he was conducting the piece. Some people may have found that distracting but it didn't bother me – I just looked the other way. He also had a habit of waffling on at length about a particular work we were studying and how he'd heard better performances by this or that orchestra or soloist.'

‘You must have found that irritating.'

‘Not particularly. He was entitled to his opinion.'

‘Would you describe him as a heavy drinker?'

‘On the contrary – I've never seen him drink anything stronger than mineral water or fruit juice.'

‘You mentioned “performances”. Do I take it you sometimes arrange live performances?'

‘Occasionally. Most of the time I use CDs from my extensive collection and play them on my own audio equipment. I do sometimes invite a friend – a professional pianist or a singer for example – to give a solo recital, but that would be impossible with orchestral works.'

‘Yes, I can understand that,' Sukey remarked. ‘I can't imagine there are many among your venues with a concert hall on the premises.'