Miss Naismith’s forehead wrinkled with pain at this lapse of etiquette. “Miss Wardstone, it is not yet twenty- four hours since Mrs Selsby’s…passing-on.”
“I don’t care. I want to get into that room. It’s mine now.”
“Yes, but –”
“I tried to get into the room this afternoon, but it was locked,” said Miss Wardstone in a tone of accusation.
“Yes. Of course it is locked at the moment. I thought that was appropriate until Mrs Selsby’s relations or solicitor should arrive to take charge of her possessions.”
“You can put them in a box-room or somewhere.”
“No, Miss Wardstone. Mrs Selsby had certain items of considerable value – jewellery in particular. I do have to think of the matter of security. It would be most inappropriate if anything were found to be missing when her possessions came to be claimed.”
“Well, I want to get into that room.” Miss Wardstone’s reptilian jaw-line set hard and firm. “You said I would definitely be the next to go into it.”
Miss Naismith refrigerated another smile. “I know that, Miss Wardstone. And I can assure you that I have no intention of going back on my word. The changeover will be made, but I do not think that it would be suitable to make it before Mrs Selsby’s funeral.”
This was said with such finality that it reduced Miss Wardstone to only a sniff by way of riposte. Colonel Wicksteed and Mr Dawlish took advantage of the change of mood to rise and, murmuring ‘We hope you will excuse us, ladies’, to go off and watch what was left of
Miss Naismith swept out after them.
Mrs Pargeter looked at the expression of fury on Miss Wardstone’s face. The spinster did want that sea-front room with an intensity that was almost obsessional.
But enough to kill for it? Of that Mrs Pargeter was not yet sure.
? A Nice Class of Corpse ?
11
Mrs Pargeter rarely spoke of the late Mr Pargeter, except in the most general terms. It was clear from her conversation that he had been a devoted husband, and also a wealthy one, who had left his widow exceptionally well-protected against the financial buffetings of the world. But, as Lady Ridgleigh had found out, enquiries into the sources of the late Mr Pargeter’s wealth were deflected by enigmatic answers.
Mrs Pargeter, however, retained a deep and lasting affection for her late husband. Though his life had been unconventional, though their marriage had been interrupted by his occasional long absences, their love for each other had never faltered.
And Mrs Pargeter had cause to be grateful to him for the many, many useful things that he had taught her.
She thought this once again as, at two-thirty in the morning of the 6th of March, she slipped the relevant blade of the late Mr Pargeter’s skeleton keys into the lock of the sea-front room that, until the previous day, had been occupied by Mrs Selsby.
She was acting on intuition. Various ideas were connecting in her mind, but she needed more information to convert those connections into a solid chain of logic.
It was Mrs Selsby’s pearls that had put her on the track, and something Miss Naismith had said during the evening that had kept her going in the same direction. In Mrs Selsby’s room she hoped to find out whether she was proceeding on the high road to a solution or up a blind alley.
The lock gave and the door opened with the silent deference that characterised all the fittings of the Devereux. Inside the room the curtains were drawn, perhaps as a mark of respect to the deceased, but Mrs Pargeter did not risk switching on the lights. Instead, she produced a small pencil torch, another invaluable legacy of the late Mr Pargeter’s working life.
She moved straight to the bureau in the bay window. In the front of the hotel she was much more aware of the insistent wash of the sea.
She wore gloves (another of the useful things the late Mr Pargeter had taught her), and the well-oiled drawers of the bureau slid obligingly open at her touch. No need to use the skeleton keys again.
Mrs Pargeter quickly found what she was looking for. Two drawers were full of slim black jewellery boxes. Screwing into her eye the jeweller’s glass that the late Mr Pargeter had also always found so useful, she expertly opened each box and examined its contents in the thin beam of her torch.
As she closed the last box, she smiled with satisfaction. She couldn’t be sure about the settings, but every one of the precious stones confirmed her suspicions.
Mrs Pargeter was silent as she left the sea-front room, and silent as she relocked the door with the skeleton key. She moved silently back up to her second-floor back bedroom, was quickly in bed, and quickly asleep.
Which was why she did not hear the sounds of someone else breaking into Mrs Selsby’s room later that night.
? A Nice Class of Corpse ?
12
After breakfast on the morning of the 6th of March, Miss Naismith asked Mrs Mendlingham whether she would mind stepping into the Office for a brief word. The expression in the old woman’s wild eyes suggested that she would mind a lot, but she obediently followed the proprietress out of the Admiral’s Dining Room.
“I wonder what that was about…?”
Miss Wardstone voiced her conjecture to no one in particular. Apart from her, only Eulalie Vance and Mrs Pargeter remained at their breakfast tables. Colonel Wicksteed had made his morning quip about time and tide, and soon been followed out by Mr Dawlish and Lady Ridgleigh. Mrs Pargeter sat relishing the last of her kipper, and Eulalie Vance stayed ostentatiously rereading a letter that had arrived by the morning post.
“I’ve no idea,” said Mrs Pargeter, politely picking up the conversational baton.
“A matter of personal hygiene, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Miss Wardstone sniffed vindictively, though whether this was an illustration of her words or the product of mere habit was not clear.
“Oh?” asked Mrs Pargeter innocently.
“Come on. You must have smelled it. I’m afraid dear Mrs Mendlingham is beginning rather to…lose control.” Miss Wardstone emitted a little bark of unamused laughter and then added grimly, “I think she may be on the transfer list.”
“Transfer list?”
“Miss Naismith is very insistent that the Devereux is for
“And where might she be transferred
“The South Coast isn’t short of Old People’s Homes, Mrs Pargeter. Private hotels like the Devereux are considerably rarer. And Miss Naismith is absolutely right to apply her rules with the maximum stringency.”
Meaning, Mrs Pargeter presumed, that Mrs Mendlingham was being asked to find herself alternative accommodation. That could be a nasty shock for a person of her age, who might be driven to desperate courses to avoid such action being taken against her.
Mrs Pargeter wondered idly whether Mrs Selsby had possessed any firm evidence of Mrs Mendlingham’s incontinence or other disqualifications from residency at the Devereux.
¦
After her excursions of the day before, Mrs Pargeter decided to stay in the hotel that morning. In her enquiries into Mrs Selsby’s death, she still felt that listening was going to be the most productive approach.
