INSPECTOR ADDISON - THE REMINGTON MURDER - Episode 7

The next morning Inspector Addison went to the Remington Hotel.  He had heard that just one evening's dining at the hotel’s restaurant cost about as much as he earned in a month at Scotland Yard, so he could only imagine how much a suite of rooms would cost to let on a permanent basis.  After the doorman ushered him into the lobby, he walked across the thick red carpet to a long, richly carved stained black oak counter and seeing no one was in sight, rang the brass bell, which was sitting alongside some writing utensils and a small stack of newspapers.  A row of cubby boxes with little brass hangers were located on the wall behind the counter; some of them containing neatly sealed envelopes and keys.  He was about to ring the bell again when an older man who had a thick head of silver hair and pencil-thin mustache appeared from a doorway and said, “Excuse me sir.  I just had something in the back that needed tending.  I’m very sorry for the delay.  How may I be of service?”

After the inspector showed the clerk his badge and introduced himself he said, “I’ve come to investigate the murder of Sir Rodney Broderick Charlesworth.  Are you the hotel clerk that was on duty when he was brutally murdered less than a block away from this establishment?”

“Yes, I was on duty that night; although I shouldn’t have been.  It seems our night clerk has been making a habit of not showing up on time these days and on that particular night, he didn’t come in at all.  I'd mention his abysmal behaviour to our employer but it wouldn’t do any good since he’s related; must be nice being born with a silver spoon stuffed in your gob!” he exclaimed rather heatedly.

“Yes, I can see that would be most aggravating.  However, before I take a look at Sir Rodney’s suite, I would like to ask you a few questions about that night.”

“But I’ve already told the other investigators all I know,” he said somewhat agitatedly.

“I realize that.  But surely you must understand that Sir Rodney was a very rich and influential man in London and the quicker we find the culprit; the better it will be for everyone involved.  I expect business at the Remington Hotel has floundered somewhat since his murder.”

“Indeed no inspector; in fact it’s just the opposite; business is flourishing.  So many people are curious and want to be as close to the murder scene as possible.”

“Ah yes, people can be such a strange breed.  But about that night, could you please tell me what you remember, anthing at all and I mean anything; sometimes it's the smallest detail that is the biggest clue.  You can start with Sir Rodney entering the hotel.”

“Let me see now; it was a few days ago and if you can imagine, I was very tired by then, what with standing on my legs for hours.  I even nodded off a few times since it’s not usually very busy late at night.  Sir Rodney came in around 8:30 I believe; I can look up the exact time if you like, since it’s necessary to sign the registry when entering and leaving.”

“That won’t be necessary; please go on.”

“Shortly after his arrival, a woman wearing a long green satin gown with a red fox shawl draped over her shoulders came in and signed the registry; said Sir Rodney was expecting her.  She'd been coming to the hotel on a fairly regular basis by this time so there wasn’t any reason to ask why she was here but the Remington has a precisce procedure which we must follow regarding our guests .”

“Then you must have got a very good look at her face; could you please describe it for me.”

“I did think it somewhat odd that she always wore the same outfit with a matching hat that had a long green veil covering her entire face.  Unfortunately sir, I regret to say, I've never seen her face.”

“Well, besides the clothing, did you notice anything else unusual about her; perhaps a scar, a mole or something else distinguishable?”

“No, nothing in that way sir and it probably doesn’t mean anything; afterall, not every woman is ravishing.”

“Let me be the judge of that; please go on.”

“Well sir, if I may be so bold, under all that rich attire, her body didn’t seem so feminine, more like that of a peasant; almost masculine looking if you get what I mean.”

The inspector cocked his brow and said, “Indeed I do.  And did the woman leave before or after Sir Rodney.”

“On that I’m not too sure.  Ah yes, I remember now, she left shortly before.  One of the heels on her boots broke off just as she was walking towards the door.  She must have been a strong woman.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because she suddenly bent over, reached down and grabbed the other heel with her hand and broke it off as easily as snapping a toothpick.  Come to think of it, she had taken her gloves off too and I noticed she had very big hands and I believe, yes…yes, they were callused as well.  How very odd; a fashionable woman with callused hands.”

Scratching his head, still concentrating on the mental image before him he said, “I can’t remember anything else sir.  I hope I’ve been helpful.”

“Yes my good man.  You’ve been more helpful than you can imagine.  And now, if I may, could you please direct me to Sir Rodney’s suite.”

Since Inspector Addison figured the suite would have been cleaned and tidied on a regular schedule by the hotel staff and members of Scotland Yard had already probed the premises, he didn’t really expect to find any substantial clues.  But just the same, he thought, one mustn’t overlook any possibilities, no matter how small they may appear.

After the desk clerk had let the inspector into Sir Rodney's suite, he left him standing in the centre of the large sitting room, which was richly decorated; the furniture functional and in good taste.  The tall, ornately carved armorie revealed nothing of importance, likewise the drawers and cupboards of the other matching furniture, which were pleasingly placed about the room.  The inspector was expecting to see the same sort of decor in the bedroom but when he opened the door, he was more than a little surprised.  The room's furnishings were certainly not Remington Hotel issue.  It had obviously been designed by the late Sir Rodney Broderick Charlseworth.  Mirrors had been mounted directly over the bed and the parts of the walls that weren't  covered with mirrors, hung very erotic paintings of naked men and women in various sexual positions, some of which, almost made the inspector blush.  He could only imagine what the round circular rings screwed into the bedboard and soft pieces of rope secured to each of the bedposts was used for.  The toilet area was neat and orderly and nothing unusual was detected.  However, the inspector mused, it doesn't take a Scotland Yard detective to deduce what Sir Rodney's suite was used for; clearly it was a boudoir designed for sexual pleasures.  I most likely should have arrived here sooner; before the cleaning staff and the bobbies poked through everything.  However, I believe I have almost enough information about our mystery woman to make a fairly substantial observation as to who she is; time to visit Sir Rodney’s gardener.  To be continued...


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