Part 7 (2/2)
”An encyclopedia might be more help,” Anthony suggested. ”It could be a foreign word like Qadhafi, the Libyan colonel.”
”I couldn't find any other reference books. Is it important?”
”That remains to be seen,” Rex murmured, sifting through the remaining fragments. One sc.r.a.p revealed the letters ”-yney” and ”IA”. An abbreviation for Missing In Action or Central Intelligence Bureau? ”I wish I had more to go on.”
Patrick examined the evidence. ”It must be the ma.n.u.script. I wonder who tried to burn it.”
”Someone who didn't like Miriam,” Helen speculated.
”None of us liked Miriam,” Wanda said.
”No doubt the author kept a copy, but all Miriam's notes and comments have gone up in smoke-and she worked so hard on that biography.”
Trust Helen to come up with a sensible and understanding view of the situation, Rex thought, finding more and more to like about her. ”Did anybody come across anything else of interest?” he asked the group, determined to keep on track in spite of the heart flutters she inspired in him.
”Just a mouldy collection of stuffed wildlife in a gla.s.s case in the library,” Yvette said.
”Specimens of hares, kingfishers, ducks, moorhens-that sort of thing,” Patrick elaborated.
”Aye, those would be from Rodney Smithings' hunting days.”
”Can we be of further a.s.sistance?” Anthony asked.
Rex glanced up from making entries in his notebook. ”I don't think so, but thanks for all your help.”
”Are we any closer to catching the killer?”
”Maybe.” Rex stood up and flexed the cramps out of his legs. ”I think I'll take the dog out for some fresh air-if I can find him.”
”Clifford took him into the scullery,” Anthony informed Rex. ”The old man's asleep in a chair, snoring loud enough to wake the dead.” He paused, then said, ”Sorry, didn't mean it like that.”
”I'm surprised he's not out cold after all the sherry he knocked back,” Rex remarked. ”But I'm glad he's sleeping. It wouldna be safe for him to walk back to the lodge in this weather.”
Wanda approached with a twig of mistletoe. ”Ta-da! I'm claiming my kiss. After all, I was the one who found the ma.n.u.script in the fireplace.”
Closing her eyes, she puckered her lips, which wrinkled in an unappealing way. Rex knew he must kiss her on the mouth or risk offending her. Stooping, he planted a brief kiss on her lips, whereupon she giggled. ”Oooh, you do have ticklish whiskers, Rex.”
He winked at Helen who was watching with good-natured amus.e.m.e.nt, then drew Wanda aside. ”I found a master key in your bedside drawer. Did Mrs. Smithings give it to you?”
A flicker crossed Wanda's immaculately made up face. ”No, Rosie left it in the door this morning when she was making up my room. I meant to give it back.”
”Well, perhaps you should before the girl gets into trouble.”
”I know-I keep forgetting.”
”May I ask what you were doing in Mr. Lawdry's room earlier?”
”I-I just wanted to pay my respects.”
”I see,” Rex said, unconvinced.
Wanda turned away before he could ask her anything else about her foray into the dead man's room. ”I don't suppose you still want to do my hair?” she asked Patrick, pulling a hand through her dark locks and examining the ends.
Patrick glanced over at Anthony.
”Go ahead,” his partner said. ”I'm going to take a long hot soak in a sudsy bath with a book and a snifter of brandy. I probably won't surface for hours.”
Helen began collecting the empty mugs of cocoa. ”At least it's not snowing now.” Covering her mouth, she yawned. ”I'd best get off to bed. I'm dead on my feet.”
”Bolt your doors,” Rex warned everyone as they traipsed out of the drawing room. ”Charley, a word?”
Yvette paused too.
”I'll follow you up,” her husband told her.
Wanda held back briefly and eyed the newlyweds with a look of suspicion.
Charley parked himself on a sofa and lit a cigarette. ”Should we go and check the lodge while Clifford's asleep?”
Rex took out his pipe. With the others absent, he felt he could smoke with impunity. Charley offered him his box of hotel matches.
”Even if we could get over there, I don't think it's necessary,” Rex replied. ”I believe we can eliminate Clifford from our list of suspects.”
”Why?”
”For one thing, he's not dexterous enough to have interfered with the iced tarts.”
”True. His hands are all gnarled up.”
”For another, I don't see what motive he could have for murdering Miriam Greenbaum. She was the only person who tipped him. In any case, he was totally sozzled.”
”He could've hit her in a drunken rage.”
”Clifford wasn't angry when I saw him-he was scared out of his wits, terrified Mrs. Smithings would find out about the sherry.”
”So we strike him off our list?”
”Aye, for now. And I'd like to be able to strike you off the list too. I don't know if Yvette told you, but I found a cameo brooch in your suite.”
”Yeah, but she said she explained why I told her to hide it.”
”I need more convincing, lad.”
Charley blew out a circle of smoke. ”The old man was fond of my wife, they played Tiddlywinks together. When he kicked the bucket, I thought suspicion might fall on her if it came out that his death wasn't from natural causes. Everyone knew he was very wealthy.”
”Anthony found out about the brooch.”
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