Read The Rotary Club Murder Mystery Online
Authors: Graham Landrum
The Rotary Club Murder Mystery (3 page)
And that was why she had turned up the TV so loudâso she could hear it above the racket of that sweeper. And it was loud, I tell you. Why, I heard it clear as day across the pool and above the Muzak!
According to my watch, it took her a little over ten minutes to run the sweeper, make the bed, and put out the towels. Then she closed the curtains, turned off the TV, dumped the soiled linen in her hamper, took the wedge out of the door so it would close, and went on to the next room, where she went through the same thing.
I noticed that every time she went into the rooms on that side of the pool, she would leave the cart with the hamper outside, right there in front of the window of the same room where she was working. That meant she could easily see everybody that might come along and stand anywhere near that cart.
But you see, if she got to the end of that row and then pulled her cart back to the corner where the two wings of the building came together, she would be starting out differently on that row because the first door she would come to would be right at the corner. So when she went to the next room, she would most likely drag the cart behind her and leave it in front of the window of the room she had already cleaned. And that was what I wanted to see her do.
So I just waited. I had three cups of coffee. I was almost embarrassed from being there so long, and it takes a lot to embarrass me. But finally, she got to the end of that row of rooms. And sure enough, she did just what I thought she would.
I paid my bill at the desk in the dining room and went on out the front door. Then instead of getting into my car and driving home, I turned to the left and walked down to the corner of the building and came all the way up the outside to that passage between the two wings of the motel. I just stood there until the maid had gotten to room 106. I could tell when she went from one room to another by the way the TV would be shut off. So I knew the minute when it was right for me to come out.
Sure enough, there was the cart parked outside the door of 106, but it was in front of room 107, in a position where I could easily have gotten hold of that key without being seen from 106. There was not a soul around except the lady in the bathing suit, and her chaise longue was positioned so that I was completely out of her sight.
Well I stood there for three minutes by my watch, which was plenty of time to take an impression of the keyâin a bar of soap or a ball of waxâI think that's the way they always do it in detective stories. So that was one way someone could have gotten the key. But it would be riskyâbecause if you were seen doing it, that would just let the cat out of the bag. Still, there might be other ways to get the key.
Then I heard the TV in room 106 go off, which meant that the little cleaning woman would come out.
I put on a big smile and said, “Good morning! Isn't this a perfect day! I was just standing here looking at that beautiful pool with the lovely blue water and all the bright colors of the umbrellas and the pretty furniture around.”
She gave me a look as if to say, What is that old bat talking about?
“Have you worked here long?” I asked. Anything to get a conversation started!
“'Bout five years.”
“I bet you never had as much excitement as you did last week.”
“Lord, no!” she said. “And I hope I don't never have nothing
like it again. I come around here about nine, nine-thirty and knocked on that ther' door, see. Didn't nobody answer, so I thought it musta been empty an' unlocked it. But then I seen it was on that chain thang. So I jist said,' âScuse me,' and went on to the next room, not thinkin' aâtall how that ther' man was a laying in ther' a corpse.
like it again. I come around here about nine, nine-thirty and knocked on that ther' door, see. Didn't nobody answer, so I thought it musta been empty an' unlocked it. But then I seen it was on that chain thang. So I jist said,' âScuse me,' and went on to the next room, not thinkin' aâtall how that ther' man was a laying in ther' a corpse.
“See, I go off work when I get through all these here rooms. So I warn't here when they broke that ther' chain and found that pore soul a laying thar in his blood.
“Lord, Lord! That ther' piller was jist soaked in it.”
My informant's voice became awed. “Ther' was parts of his brains in hit, too.” She tilted her head back and a knowing look came into her eyes. “Hit was this here room, an' while I don't mind so much going in and doin' around in the daylight, I pities the pore folks that has to sleep in thar.”
“I don't suppose they would know,” I suggested.
“An' a blesset thang it'd be, ma'am.”
“Could I just peek in and see it?” Oh, I sounded very timid when I said that.
The woman was as full of pride as if she were showing off her first grandchild. She almost bowed me into the room.
“Did you see the body?” I asked.
“Lord, no! I reckon I woulda been skeered to death. But I know wher' he was a layin', fer I taken the sheets and the piller and all that offen the bed. There was some blood got on that ther' mattress, but Miz Attwood said it warn't bad enough to have to change the mattress, 'cause folks wouldn't know.” Suddenly, my informant put her hand over her mouth. “I ain't suppos' to talk about hit,” she mumbled.
I assured her that I certainly would not repeat anything she had saidâand here I have given it word for word! You just can't trust an old woman.
I took a good look around while I had the chance. They had not put back the door chain. But I could see how the screws that had attached it to the door and the doorjamb had been
pulled out and splintered the wood. That chain struck me as being the real problem. I could figure out ways to get the key, but what good would that do if the murderer couldn't put the chain on the door from the outside?
pulled out and splintered the wood. That chain struck me as being the real problem. I could figure out ways to get the key, but what good would that do if the murderer couldn't put the chain on the door from the outside?
“I seen my granny die,” the woman said. “An' I was thar when my man died, but I ain't never seen nobody that kilt their self before. Hit's skeery, I tell ye. Hit's all right in the daytime, but hit's skeery at night.”
“I know what you mean,” I said sympathetically. “I do appreciate your letting me see the room. Now you take care of yourself.”
I suppose some of my readers might think I should have given the woman a tip. But she is one of our mountain women and, aware that she is every bit as good as I am, she would have been offended if I had offered. So I simply took myself off.
It gave me a lot to think about. There is, of course, as I have already observed, no such thing as a locked-room murder mystery. That door has to be open for the murderer to get in and to get out again. Even though there might be several ways a murderer could get in, I did not see how anybody could get out again and put that chain thing on the door.
I did not believe that Mr. Hollonbrook had committed suicide. And that left me with a puzzle that I knew I would not get out of my mind until I knew the answer.
My sleuthing that morning had gotten me absolutely nowhere except that I realized, as I should have realized in the beginning: A murder so cleverly committed had to be the result of careful planning. The best bet was that the planning had been done in Stedbury, North Carolina. But there was also a Borderville element, and that would have to be looked into right away before things could change too much.
You see, it was now exactly one week since Charles Hollonbrook had checked into the motel. And it was beans to doughnuts that the same personnel would be on duty that night at the Inn as had been on duty the week before. I needed to pay a little
more attention to the Borderville end of my problem before I could hunt for an explanation at the North Carolina end.
more attention to the Borderville end of my problem before I could hunt for an explanation at the North Carolina end.
So I went home and called Lona Champion and asked her to be my guest that evening for dinner at the Inn. She simply wouldn't have it that I was to pay for her dinner. Well, if she felt like that, I wasn't going to stand in her way.
We ate in the dining room, and it's very different at night from the way it is in the morning. We got there about 7:30 and ordered a nice dinner. I had lamb chops, a nice chefs salad, English peas, and a baked potato, with peach melba for dessert. It cost $7.50. Toward the end of the meal, it was quite dark outside, and the young man came around and lit the candle in the little glass cup on the table. They had turned on the underwater lights in the pool, and we could look out over the pool and see the young people with the lights on their young bodies as they swam about. How I used to love to swim! Well, Lona and I just had a good time.
When we were ready to leave, I told Lona to stay in her seat while I went to pay my bill. I left my pocketbook with her and told her to bring it along but not to get up for at least ten minutes.
I went to the cash register in the dining room and said to the cashier, “I just can't find my pocketbook. I don't suppose anyone has turned it in?”
She didn't look too well pleased with the idea that I didn't have the money to pay her; and no, she didn't know anything about my pocketbook.
“Maybe I ought to ask at the desk out there,” I said with a big smile, like I had just thought of it.
She said, “Well, all right,” or something like that.
So I went to the desk in the lobby. There was this good-looking girl there. I would say she was eighteen or twenty. She had lovely auburn hair that must have had a natural wave to it. She was tall and had a good figureâand great big blue eyesânot greenâbut just a little bit on the green sideâand those big,
long lashes. She was using more makeup than a girl that pretty needs to put on, and the clothes were just a shade too dressy for the job she was doing. But then, I could remember when I was like that. I had a slim figure when I was her age. I had blond hair and a lot of it. Oh, I thought I was something, and the boys did, too. What a time I gave my mother! I always was a lady, but I did everything a lady can do and still get away with it.
long lashes. She was using more makeup than a girl that pretty needs to put on, and the clothes were just a shade too dressy for the job she was doing. But then, I could remember when I was like that. I had a slim figure when I was her age. I had blond hair and a lot of it. Oh, I thought I was something, and the boys did, too. What a time I gave my mother! I always was a lady, but I did everything a lady can do and still get away with it.
Anyhow, I said, “Honey, I don't suppose that somebody could have turned in a red leather purse, could they?”
She knew right away that nobody had brought in a red purse.
“Oh,” I said, looking so distressed you would have thought I didn't know what on earth to do. “Oh, are you sure?”
She was sure. And so was I, because Lona had it, and I could just see Lona out of the corner of my eye, paying her check at the cash register.
I said, “What
will
I do?” and one or two other things that weren't any more sensible than that, until Lona could come up to me with my purse. Then I put on a big show about how happy I was to find my purse and how silly I had been to think it was lost and what would people think of me? Well, I hoped they would think I was harmless. That was what I was getting at with the whole show I was putting on.
will
I do?” and one or two other things that weren't any more sensible than that, until Lona could come up to me with my purse. Then I put on a big show about how happy I was to find my purse and how silly I had been to think it was lost and what would people think of me? Well, I hoped they would think I was harmless. That was what I was getting at with the whole show I was putting on.
So I walked over to the cashier and paid my bill, and the woman there looked happier. I walked back to the table and left a tip. Then I came back again to the desk in the lobby.
“Darling,” I said to the young woman, “you were so sweet to me when I thought I had lost my purse. What is your name?”
“Teddy.”
When I was young, teddies were women's underwear. But nothing is the same now.
“How unusual!” I said. “Is it short for Edwina?”
“Theodora,” she said.
“What a lovely name, Theodora!” I said. “And what's the other name?”
“Brazille.”
“Theodora Brazilleâyou ought to go on the stage or get into movies with that name and your good looks. Why, I think it is just lovely.”
Praise is one thing people have no judgment about. They just never get enough of it. In that respect, Miss Brazille was no different from the general run of folks. And what I said was near enough to the truth that she didn't suspect a thing.
I tried the same thing I had tried on the little cleaning woman. “Have you worked here long?”
“Almost a year now,” she said. I could tell she liked my compliment.
“Do you like the work?”
“Oh, it's all right.”
“Well, working at this motel, you surely wouldn't want for excitement. Were you here at the desk when that man who killed himself checked in?” A look came into her eyes that said this was an uncomfortable topic.
“Oh,” I said, “I suppose they don't want you to talk about it. But it was written up in the paper. There was such a long piece about itâwhen was it? Friday? But I didn't see your name there.” Then I just looked at her and waited for her to say something.
“Oh, I checked him in, all right,” she said after an awkward pause. The child could not avoid an answer, don't you see.
“I know the poor man must have seemed anxious and blue, with his mind made up to kill himself that way. I suppose you would notice.”
“I didn't notice anything.” She was just as nervous as a cat.
“Don't let it bother you,” I said. “You're a darling child.” I reached over and patted her hand.
I tried, but I couldn't get her to tell me whether there was anything unusual about Hollonbrook when he checked inâlike agitation or melancholy. Her mind seemed to be occupied merely with the fact that one of the guests had taken his own life.
There is a reaction that young people have to death that is hard to remember when most of the folks you have known have long since passed on.
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