On Deadly Tides Page 5

  * * *

  By mid-morning, Penny had set up her easel on the green facing the Georgian terrace. As she sketched, Colin wandered along the waterfront in the direction of the pier, watching the little boats bobbing along in the sparkling blue waters, and photographing black and white oystercatchers wading about in the shallow water, poking the shoreline mud with their strong, red-orange bills.

  As Penny set down her pencil and compared her half-completed sketch to the building in front of her, a shadow fell across her easel. She turned her head slowly, expecting to see an interested passerby, but when a flash of red flannel appeared in the corner of her eye, she realized who was standing behind her.

  Before she could respond, Bill Ward placed a hand on her shoulder, gave it a little squeeze, and leaned over to examine her sketch. As the side of his chest brushed against her upper arm she shrank away from him.

  “I heard you were out here, so I just came to see how you’re doing,” he said. As he leaned in for a closer look at her sketch, she caught the unmistakably sour smell of stale alcohol on his breath and immediately sprang up off her stool. She took a step back and folded her arms. He darted a questioningly sharp look at her, gave her a sly smile, and then turned back to the sketch. “You’ve made a good start. You’ve got the angles of the receding planes of the roof extended to the horizon line exactly right. I’ll be very curious to see how it looks when you’ve finished painting it.” He pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, took out a cigarette, but didn’t light it. “Why did you decide to paint this terrace?”

  “I love Georgian buildings,” said Penny.

  “I know a little about this terrace,” Ward replied. “Built in 1833, Grade 1 listed. Designed by architects Welch and Hansom. Yes, he of the Hansom cab.”

  “I imagine it must be beautiful inside,” said Penny, with a hint of wistfulness in her voice. “If the houses haven’t had all the charm modernized out of them.”

  “Yes, that’s often the terrible fate of beautiful old buildings. They don’t suit modern living. Originally the terrace consisted of ten townhouses, but in the 1930s, I believe it was, they were converted into eighteen apartments. Smaller, more manageable, to better suit the way we live now. Not many of us have the benefit of servants anymore.”

  He turned his attention back to Penny’s sketch and gestured at it with a stubby finger. “Now just here, what were you thinking of doing about the windows? By the time you come to paint these in, the light will be completely different.”

  They discussed her artwork for a few more minutes, and then Ward asked if he might take her to lunch. “And we’ll see where that leads. Who knows? I have friends with art galleries.”

  Where that leads? Nowhere, thought Penny. That’s where all this is leading. She scanned the promenade in both directions and was relieved to see Colin Campbell had finished his expedition and was ambling back to her.

  Walk faster, Colin, she thought. And as if he heard her, he sped up, and she put off answering Ward as long as she could, pretending to give his invitation to lunch the careful thought it deserved.

  “Oh, thank you, that’s very kind,” Penny said as Colin joined them, “but I, er, promised Colin here that I’d give him lunch today. My treat.” She threw a pleading look in his direction. “Fish and chips, we thought.”

  “That’s right,” he replied without missing a beat. “Fish and chips. Been looking forward to it all morning.”

  “Well,” said Ward, following Penny’s awkward introduction of the two men, “Enjoy your fish and chips, and I’ll see you later at the critique session, but unless you get a lot more done this afternoon, I doubt I’ll have much to add to what I’ve just told you. And don’t forget it’s our artists’ dinner tonight. I’ll save the seat beside me for you. And now I’ll leave you two Americans to enjoy your fish and chips.”

  “Canadians,” they muttered together as he left, and then turned to each other and laughed.

  Penny folded up her easel, tucked her sketch in her bag, and slung it over her shoulder as Colin picked up the easel.

  “I suppose we should get some fish and chips, after all that,” said Penny.

  “Yes, we definitely should.”

  “And it is my treat, just like I said. We could make a picnic and eat them in the little square across from the castle beside the courthouse. There are lots of benches there.”

  “Good idea.”

  And half an hour later, lunch on their laps, that’s exactly where they were.

  “How well do you know that guy, Bill Ward?” asked Colin as he broke a piece of crispy batter off the end of a piece of deep-fried cod.

  “Not well at all. Friday night was only the second time I’d met him.”

  “There’s something kind of creepy about him.”

  “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

  He picked up a chip. “After you left the bar on Friday night, he got into an argument with Sarah Spencer. I recognized her when she gave you the hotel voucher last night. She was working as the barmaid on Friday night.”

  Penny took a sip of water. “Oh, that’s right. I heard about that.” This was the argument the Thorpe couple had made a point of mentioning to the police officers on Saturday afternoon. “Were you able to catch what they were saying?”

  “It didn’t last very long. She lit into him about drinking too much, and then he said something about clearing her stuff out, and then a man stepped in and spoke to them, and Ward left. It was almost closing time anyway.”

  “So this would have been about eleven?”

  “Yes, right before the bar closed.”

  It had been midnight when Penny had observed Ward from her bedroom window, standing in the hotel parking lot below, shouting at an unseen person in the hotel. When she had placed herself yesterday where Ward had been, Penny had realized that that person must have been in the coffee shop. And a person in the coffee shop, long after it had closed, must have been an employee.

  She wondered where Ward had been and what he’d been doing between eleven, when he’d been seen in the bar, and that midnight encounter.

  Chapter Eight

  “I think you should stay for a few more days,” said Alwynne on Monday morning. “This little break is doing you a world of good.”

  Penny finished buttoning a red cardigan, folded it neatly, and set it on top of the pile of clothes already arranged in her suitcase.

  “Maybe the room isn’t available.”

  “Oh, it is. I asked at reception.”

  “Now why would you do that?”

  “I just told you. Because I think you should stay. I’ve never seen you like this. Your eyes are positively sparkling, and you seem so happy.”

  “I am happy. I like it here.”

  “I think it’s the company of a certain gentleman you like.”

  “Certainly not Bill Ward’s company. It was really good of you to switch places with me last night so I didn’t have to sit beside him at the dinner.”

  Alwynne laughed. “The look on his face! He sat there and scowled for the rest of the evening, like a spoiled brat who’d just been told he couldn’t have any ice cream. Barely said a word to me. I must say, he’s been rather a disappointment. Personally, I mean. You’d think he could have made more of an effort to dress for the dinner last night; the rest of us certainly did. I thought you looked very smart, by the way. Still, his critique sessions have been helpful, and I’ve picked up some good painting tips, but he doesn’t come across as a particularly likeable man, does he?”

  “No,” said Penny. “Not in the least. I suspect he’s used to being admired and getting his own way, and he finds it difficult to cope when he doesn’t.” She sat on the edge of the bed, her hand resting on top of the clothes in her suitcase. “If I did stay, would you still go home today?”

  “Yes. Medwyn’s decided he’s been on his own long enough, and he’s coming to fetch me just after lunch, as planned. Of course, you’re welcome to come home with us, if
that’s what you want to do.”

  Penny pinched her bottom lip and glanced out the window.

  “What’s the matter? I thought you liked him,” said Alwynne. “He’s obviously interested in you.”

  “I do like him. But the thing is, Alwynne, I’m worried that he might be married.”

  “Well, he isn’t,” Alwynne said with a hint of triumph in her voice.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I bumped into him in the lobby about an hour ago, and he was wondering the same thing about you. He asked me if you’re spoken for, and I told him you aren’t. And then I asked him if he’s got a partner, and he said, ‘There was someone, but we broke up some time ago.’ Those were his very words. So you see, if you …”

  But Penny was already reaching for the telephone beside the bed, and after exchanging a few words with the hotel receptionist she stood up and replaced her red cardigan in the bureau drawer.

  “Two more nights. I’ll stay two more nights.”

  * * *

  After waving Alwynne and Medwyn off, Colin turned to Penny. “Anything special you’d like to do this afternoon?”

  “Let’s talk about that over a drink.”

  When they reached the bar, Colin gestured to a table and asked Penny if she wanted a white wine.

  “I do,” she said, “but I’d like to get the drinks in. I need a word with the barman. What can I get you?”

  “Better make it something non-alcoholic in case we decide to drive out somewhere. A diet cola would be fine, thanks.”

  The barman was in his early twenties, with neatly combed black hair and wearing a smart striped waistcoat over a white shirt. When he set the drinks she had requested on the bar, Penny asked if he was “young Llifon,” the person Sarah had mentioned as the one who had been scheduled to work Friday night. “It’s just that Sarah was working and she seemed really put out that the regular barman—and I’m guessing that’s you—wasn’t there.”

  “Yeah, it was meant to be my shift,” he said, “but I couldn’t make it in. Wasn’t feeling well, if you must know.” He folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head back.

  “Oh no, no,” said Penny. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not implying at all. Nothing against you. It’s just that she was busy—the bar was very crowded, and she was run off her feet—but a man, Martin I think she called him, stepped in and said he’d be glad to help her out, but she declined his offer. She seemed rather short-tempered about it all. Not usually what you think of when you think of people serving behind bars, who are usually so friendly. And in the hospitality industry, things happen all the time, and you just have to roll with them, don’t you?”

  The young man’s face relaxed. “You do. I’m surprised to hear that she was put out, actually, because she’s really good at springing into action. Or maybe I’m not so surprised. She was flexible—until recently, that is. She changed.”

  “Oh? How recent was that, would you say?”

  “The last month or so, maybe. Lately, she’s been impatient and hard to please, where she used to be quite easy going. We used to like working for her. Now, not so much.” He took a swipe with a white towel at a couple of water rings on the highly varnished surface of the bar. His face seemed on the verge of crumpling, but he gathered himself up. “I really shouldn’t have spoken about her like that with a customer.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Penny with a reassuring smile. “Anything you tell me goes no further.”

  “Well, I’m not surprised that Martin stepped in and offered to help her. That sounds like something he’d do.”

  “And who’s Martin?”

  “Oh, Martin Hewitt, the hotel manager. He’s a really decent sort. Always takes the time to speak to the staff, and if you need anything, you can go to him. Kind. I’d say he’s a kind man. Nothing flashy, but just, well, steady and decent. I never heard a staff member say a bad word about him, and as far as I know, everybody likes him.”

  “I’m sure you’re thinking that I’m asking an awful lot of questions,” Penny said, “but it’s just that I’m the one who discovered that young woman’s body on Saturday morning at Black Point. I’m curious about what was going on at the hotel in the time leading up to her death.”

  “Oh, it was you who found her body, was it? I heard it was someone staying in the hotel, but I wasn’t sure who.” He thought for a moment. “So maybe that explains why Sarah spoke to you on the Saturday night when you were in here.”

  He glanced around the room, as if to make sure no one could hear him, and then leaned forward and in a conspiratorial tone added, “Things are a bit up in the air here, and I think that’s one of the reasons why Sarah’s been taking it out on the staff lately. On Thursday afternoon she and Mr. Hewitt had a closed-door meeting. It didn’t last too long, but she looked really upset when she came out, and she went home right after that. To be honest, I thought she’d been fired.”

  Another guest approaching the bar was a signal that their conversation was over, and Penny held out a bank note to pay for the drinks. Llifon made change, handed it to her, and moved away to serve his waiting customer.

  “That was rather a long chat you had with the barman,” said Colin when she rejoined him. “Did you learn anything useful?”

  Penny set the drinks on the table and slid into the chair beside him. “Sorry it took so long. I wanted to see if I could find out a little more about the hotel operation. Apparently, things haven’t been going great here lately, and something happened last week. The bartender’s called Llifon, and he said Sarah left the manager’s office on Thursday afternoon looking so upset he wondered if she’d been fired. But he doesn’t know for sure what happened in there.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not. But it seems a little unsettling somehow.”

  “Well, it could have been anything—a customer complaint; they didn’t meet a sales target.” He reached for his cola. “Of course, the big work problems usually involve incompetence, harassment, or money.”

  “Money as in fraud? Embezzlement? That kind of money?”

  “Yeah.”

  They each took a sip of their drink and said nothing until the sound of Penny’s ringing mobile broke their thoughtful, melancholy-tinged silence.

  “It’s Bethan Morgan,” she said. “The police officer in charge of the Jessica Graham case. Also a friend of mine. I should take it.” She kept her eyes on Colin while she listened, making little noises every now and then to indicate she was listening, and wrapped up with, “Right. I’ll be home on Wednesday. Talk to you then, if not before.” After thanking Bethan, she ended the call.

  “The postmortem analysis confirms that Jessica suffered massive blunt force trauma to the back of the head and neck, consistent with a fall from a considerable height, and that fall was responsible for her death,” she said. “The report makes no mention of any other abrasions or cuts to the skin pre-mortem.”

  “Pre-mortem. So that means no defensive wounds?”

  “Correct. No fibres or skin were found under her fingernails, which would indicate there’d been a struggle. The police are waiting for lab results and forensics, but at this time, they believe that Jessica died where her body was found. And they’re treating her death as accidental. Bethan said they have no reason to think otherwise.”

  “Can I ask why she would reveal all that to you? It seems like a lot of information for a police officer to share with someone who just—”

  “Who just found the body? Well, yes, I can see how it would look like that. But the thing is, there’s a bit more to it than that. I’ve helped her with a few cases in the past.” Penny closed her eyes and tilted her head back.

  “What’s the matter?” Colin asked. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just trying to picture what I saw on the beach that morning.” She opened her eyes. “When I found the body, it was half immersed in water, and I’m no expert, of
course, but it seems to me it was further away from the base of the cliff, where presumably it would have been if she’d fallen off the cliff.”

  “So what are you suggesting? That someone placed the body where you found it?”

  “I’m not really sure what I’m suggesting. This whole thing has got my brain tied up in knots.”

  “But the tide was going out,” said Colin. “If the tide was in when she fell off the cliff, her body could have been further up on the beach, and as it started to go out, it would have taken the body with it, just as we discussed at breakfast yesterday. So the tide could have moved the body.”

  “Yes, that’s definitely possible, said Penny. “That’s pretty much what the pathologist suggested.” She took a sip of her drink. “I had a terrible time getting down to the beach on that rough, dangerous path, so I can’t see anyone managing to carry a body down it, even a small person like she was. So yes, I guess it could have happened the way the police think it did.”

  “But just for the sake of argument, let’s say it didn’t happen that way. Is the path you took the only way to the beach? Maybe there’s another way that isn’t so steep and rough. Maybe you took the hard way down, but further along there’s an easier way. A better path that a local would know.”

  “There could be,” said Penny. “I didn’t see one on Saturday morning, but I wasn’t looking for one. My only thought was to get down to the beach as quickly as possible, to see if there was anything I could do to help.”

  “Well, we could go back this afternoon and look for another access point to the beach, if you want to.”

  “No, I don’t think I want to revisit that place right now, thanks all the same.

  “Of course not. I’m sorry. It was insensitive of me to suggest it.”

  “No, you’re all right. It’s just that I’d rather we do something fun.”

  “Apparently there’s an interesting gaol in the town that we could visit. Or we could make it a double. Visit the court house and then the gaol.”