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Start of book
Book Murder at the Regal Hotel continued:
"I thought you'd be interested because the story is so much like the one in your thesis. On Saturday I went to the Regal Hotel but I couldn't get in. The only thing I could get was the name on the outside, the man with the pub licence. H.V. Smethhurst. Bill Butcher looked it up in their morgue."
"Of course, it might not be the same H V Smethhurst.." she said.
I agreed. "I'll need to check the Electoral Register to find out what H.V. stands for in this case. But it's probably just a red herring. I had to come back with something."
"Well, what else have you got to report?" She assumed I'd been doing more that examining the outside of the hotel during that Sunday.
I told her about our visit to Greg, and what he'd said.
She was very interested in his answer-phone message. "So Dubois knew Greg's home phone number."
I didn't think that was strange, "They worked together in the same office. Even on the same case, so they naturally would know things like that."
"Yes, but it has implications. For example, it suggests that unless somebody else went to Greg's flat, nobody else heard the message, so whoever killed Dubois didn't go there because he heard that taped message."
I agreed, "Perhaps he and Dubois went together to the Hotel."
"Yes, that's a possibility."
"Or perhaps it was a chance meeting. Perhaps a burglar in the hotel."
Sian decided to take a pragmatic view, "Yes, that's true too. But we eliminate all other possibilities before we give up and look for a chance meeting. The likelihood of proving that are much more difficult. So our lines of enquiry have to be based on either someone went there with Dubois, or had arranged to meet him there."
I nodded, "That takes us back to the most likely place. Wyatt's agency and his office. We need to know what Frenchie was working on."
"The possibilities are Wyatt himself, and the other agents he had working for him," Sian was working out a programme for me, " Who are the other agents who were working for him?"
"Greg will know some of them, but it's no good asking Wyatt himself. We're competitors and he hates our guts. He wouldn't tell us anything. And he'll tell all his people not to cooperate with us."
"If Jane is representing him legally, she could subpoena his list of employees."
I told her I had already discussed that angle with Jane.
"Well, let's do first things first." said Sian, "Get a letter of authorisation from Jane and go to Wyatt's office and ask for the information you want. It will put him on the back foot, and we'll see if he's got anything to hide."
I went to see Jane. She was sitting in her office, looking dejected.
"I need a letter from you." I said.
"What kind of letter," she asked.
"One which says you're Greg's legal representative, and I am acting on your behalf."
"Certainly," she said, "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to Wyatt's agency to ask about the cases that Frenchie was working on."
"Oh, good," she appeared to brighten up a bit, "In that case I'll come with you. I need something to do."
"All right." Let's go."
She quickly typed out a letter and signed it. Then we drove to the drab street where Wyatt's office was. It was in an old multi-storey building, not very well upgraded and the fittings and doors were made from the cheapest materials you could get. On the third floor, we went along a long corridor. As instructed by the sign on the door, we knocked and went straight in.
Wyatt's receptionist Mandy, called a secretary on a little sign on her desk, looked up and recognised me. She certainly wouldn't have admitted to her real age, which close-up I could tell was nearer forty-five than thirty-five. Her clothes tried valiantly to say that she was thirty, but failed. My mother would have called her a bottle-blonde and said 'mutton dressed as lamb' . Very censorious about other women, my mother. Mandy was over-made up and no amount of carefully-applied paint and powder could hide the hardness of her eyes and the thin lips. Holmes had once let slip, quite accidentally, that she had a criminal record for some minor crime, petty thefts or something, although she had never been to jail. She appeared resentful and belligerent most of the time and, I guessed that she knew too much about Wyatt's business for him to let her go.
"Oh, it's you, is it?" she said rudely. "Mr Wyatt said I should expect you. And who is this?" she enquired, indicating Jane with her pencil.
I tried to turn the other cheek, "Hello, Mandy, This is Jane Baker. She's Greg's solicitor. We're working for her."
She didn't acknowledge Jane, which irritated me, but I kept my cool.
"In pursuit of Greg's defence, to which of course he has a legal right, it's necessary that we get certain information. Perhaps you or your boss could answer some questions?"
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