Foxden Hotel (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 5) Madalyn Morgan (ebook smartphone .txt) 📖

had stood in something unpleasant, was Lowarth’s sour-faced Sergeant McGann.

The Detective Inspector introduced himself to Bess and Margot, thanked them for waiting and asked if they would bear with him a little longer. He looked at Sergeant McGann who, breathing through flared nostrils, led the inspector into his office.

Margot began to giggle and Bess elbowed her in the ribs. ‘Shush, they’ll hear you.’ Margot mouthed sorry and did her best to keep a straight face. But when Bess made a show of reading notices on the Police Public Information board, she burst into laughter. Bess, seeing the funny side, laughed with her.

‘Haven’t seen you do that for a long time,’ Margot said, when she had stopped giggling.

‘What?’

‘Laugh.’

‘No, well there hasn’t been much to laugh about recently. But after today, things should start getting back to normal. Ena’s coming up at the weekend, which will be nice. And the hotel’s full at Easter.’

‘Bill and me are looking forward to coming to Foxden at Easter. I wish we could come over more often, but with the school…’

‘I know. I don’t expect you to run the dancing school, look after Bill, and--’ Margot started to laugh again. ‘What now?’ Bess asked.

‘You, saying I look after Bill. It’s him who looks after me.’

‘Of course he does, what with you being a princess an’ all.’

‘Miss Dudley?’ the Detective Inspector called, taking Margot and Bess by surprise. They both stood up as he approached.

‘Sorry,’ Bess said, ‘we are - were - both Dudley before we were married.’ She put out her hand. ‘I’m Bess Donnelly now and this is my sister, Margot Burrell.’

Detective Inspector Masters gave the sisters a sparkling smile. ‘Pleased to meet you both. Thank you for coming in at short notice. Now,’ he said, looking at Margot, ‘I believe it was you, Mrs Burrell, who had the most to do with David Sutherland in London?’

‘Yes. I worked with his girlfriend at the Prince Albert Theatre.’

‘Then perhaps if you wouldn’t mind, Mrs Donnelly, I’ll interview Mrs Burrell first?’

‘My sister and I both spoke to David Sutherland at the hotel on New Year’s Eve, Inspector, and we were interviewed together by Sergeant McGann.’ Margot looked nervously at Bess.

‘Don’t worry, Margot, I’ll be here if you need me,’ Bess said, and sat down. Margot wrinkled her nose and followed the inspector into Sergeant McGann’s office.

Detective Inspector Masters pulled out a chair from beneath Sergeant McGann’s desk. ‘Take a seat, Miss Dudley.’

‘Thank you.’

Margot sat down and the Inspector walked round to the other side of the desk. Before sitting down in Sergeant McGann’s chair, the London policeman heaped together an assortment of papers that were spread over McGann’s desk, stacked them into a rough pile, and put them on the window ledge. When the desk was clear, he took several large brown envelopes from his briefcase. ‘Sergeant McGann’s notes,’ he said and, smiling, lined them up side by side across the width of the desk.

There was something familiar about the London policeman. Perhaps it was his accent. Margot returned his smile. He was friendly and courteous where Sergeant McGann was remote and self-important. The inspector opened the first of the envelopes, took out a handful of photographs and smiled again. Something McGann never did.

‘These photographs were taken on New Year’s Eve by a local newspaper man. Would you look at them and tell me if you recognise anyone from the time you lived and worked in London?’

London? It had been four years since she was last in London for any length of time. ‘Do you mean from the time I knew David Sutherland?’

‘Yes. Anyone who might have been around when Sutherland was walking out with Miss Trick?’

Desperate to find someone, to save Bess from being questioned, Margot scrutinised each photograph. ‘Sorry, there’s no one from those days other than myself and Sutherland.’

‘How about someone who hadn’t been invited to the New Year’s Eve party? A stranger perhaps, or someone who is somewhere that they shouldn’t be?’

Margot shook her head. ‘I don’t know who had an invitation, who had called in because it was the opening of the hotel, or who were guests staying there. Sorry not to be of more help.’

‘That’s fine, Miss Dudley. I mean, Mrs Burrell. Thank you. It isn’t often the police are lucky enough to have a photographic record of the events leading up to a crime. It was a long shot, but worth asking.’ The inspector took a notebook from the second envelope. ‘You and your sister gave statements to Sergeant McGann about the disagreement between David Sutherland and Sir Gerald Hawksley on New Year’s Eve - and the events afterwards,’ Margot nodded. ‘Do you have anything to add? Has anything come to mind since that night that could help us with our enquiry?’ Margot shook her head. ‘The smallest thing, something that you might think is insignificant, could be very important.’

‘No. Nothing,’ Margot said.

‘Then thank you for your time, Mrs Burrell.’ The inspector stood up, took a card from his pocket and gave it to Margot. ‘If you remember anything, anything at all, that you think could help us find David Sutherland’s killer, would you telephone me?’

Killer? Sutherland was killed? Margot got to her feet, but was too shocked to move. She watched the inspector walk across the room to the door and open it. She heard him ask Bess to come in and take a seat. His voice sounded distant and it echoed, as if he was speaking in a tunnel.

‘Mrs Burrell?’ The inspector calling her name brought Margot out of her daze. She began to walk to the door, but halted half way across the room. She needed to warn her sister, tell her the shocking news that Sutherland’s death had not been an accident. She started to walk again. Although she had found her feet, she