Chapter 9

Miss Marple collected what she needed from her room and returned to the lobby. Instead of settling herself on one of the settees, she made her way across to the fireplace in the far corner . She chose her position wisely, taking a seat upon a comfy chair adjacent to the front desk. From this position, she could see all who entered the hotel and could hear all the hotel business that might be conducted at the counter behind her whilst still giving the illusion of merely enjoying the comfort of the roaring fire.

Once settled, Miss Marple pulled out her knitting. She'd brought a sweater to work on, but the pattern involved complicated cabling-not the sort of thing she could mindlessly work on whilst sleuthing. Luckily, she always travelled with sock yarn, and she pulled this out now and began casting on, the pattern so simple she could practically do it in her sleep.

A good thing, too, for no sooner had she begun than a voice sounded from behind the desk.

"Rotten weather, what? Sorry it's ruining your holiday."

Miss Marple turned and smiled up at the hotel clerk behind the counter. "True, this in not how I had intended to spend my holiday at the seaside." She shrugged, gesturing to her yarn as she continued, "Still, I plan to make the most of my time here." Of course, she was actually referring to sleuthing, not knitting, but he needn't know that.

"Well, you just let me know if you need tea or more firewood or anything."

Miss Marple nodded. "Thank you; I shall."

As she turned back towards her knitting, she saw the two girls entering the hotel. Seeing their gentleman friends at the station had seemed to do them both a world of good for they were positively glowing. In fact, young Jess' cheeks were so rosy, they practically clashed with the bright red of her hat.

As the two girls crossed the lobby, Miss Marple overheard part of their conversation. It was clear their male companions were foremost on both their minds, although their responses were drastically different.

"I still can't believe this happened," Jess said, clearly upset.

Emily, however, seemed to shrug off her friend's concern. "They are safe and well for now."

"WELL?! They're in gaol for murder!"

Emily shook her head. "You heard the inspector. There is not much evidence to link them to the crime, other than simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I doubt they shall be held much more than a day."

Jess gave an exasperated sigh. "How can you be so calm about all this?"

"Because it could have been far worse," Emily replied matter-of-factly, as if she spoke from experience. Miss Marple found the Lady quite intriguing and looked forward to learning more.

"Well," Jess began, suddenly sounding cheerier, as if she'd come to some decision, "it's clear what we need to do now."

Emily stared doubtfully at her friend. "It is?"

"Certainly! The boys described everyone who was there when the door opened. So we must go interview them."

Lady Merchant frowned. "Is that not a job for the police?"

Miss Marple had been thinking the same thing, but Jess quickly shook her head. "The police think Matt & Becker did it-we can't rely on them. So it's up to us to find the real killer so the boys can be set free." She smiled, adding, "Besides, it should be fun! I feel so Nancy Drew already."

Emily looked confused. "Who is Nancy Drew?"

"Oh, YOU know," Jess insisted. "She's like a teenage female version of Sherlock Holmes."

This explanation didn't seem to help clarify things for Lady Merchant for she asked, "Who is Sherlock Holmes?"

Jess looked astounded. "Clearly you need to watch more BBC."

Miss Marple had been following their conversation with amusement but was quite confused by this last comment-how exactly did one "watch" a radio broadcast? she wondered.

The auburn-haired girl went on. "Now c'mon. Doesn't that hotel clerk match one of the descriptions Matt gave us? Let's start with him."

Jess passed by Miss Marple without a second glance and marched straight up to the front desk, with Emily close behind.

"Pardon? Sir? May we speak to you for a minute?"

Although Miss Marple could not see the clerk's reaction, she remembered his response to the girls' revealing clothing the night before and therefore was not a bit surprised when she heard his voice reply, "Of course, ladies. How may I be of service? I hope you are enjoying your stay so far with...your uncle, I believe?"

"Oh, yes, and it's lovely here," Jess said, clearly trying to put the man at ease. "We just wanted to ask you a few questions, if we may? You see, our friends were...I mean, last night, they were mistaken for-"

Emily's deeper voice quickly cut in. "What Miss Parker is trying to say is that she and I were intrigued to learn that a crime occurred here last night before we arrived, and we are curious to learn more about it."

"Now don't you two lovely ladies go fretting none about that," the hotel clerk replied. "The man that died weren't no saint and, begging your pardons, as far as I'm concerned, he seemed to have got what he deserved."

"Goodness!" Jess exclaimed, and even Miss Marple was surprised at the venom in the man's voice.

Lady Merchant, however, seemed unruffled, for she coolly asked, "So you knew him?"

"Unfortunately," the clerk replied. "A dirty thief and a liar, and I regret the day I ever placed my trust in him."

"What happened?" Jess asked.

"He stole all my family's money, that's what happened. He and his partner Alfred Brent. They claimed to be investors, but as far as I'm concerned, real investors should know better than to invest in companies doomed to fail. But instead they went ahead and threw away all our money...and to the damn Micks! Now it's all gone, and we're liable to lose this place."

Obviously ignoring the derogatory comment about her fiance's heritage, Emily simply asked, "Your family owns this hotel?".

The clerk shrugged. "Yes and no. We own the business outright, but there's still a large loan left on the land itself. Seafront property ain't cheap, you know, even in the middle of nowhere. We've been doing alright, so we thought we'd invest so we could do some improvements in a few years. But now the money's gone and the loan is due. Who knows how long we'll be able to stay above water. I'm just hoping Mr. Horbury is able to squeeze something out of them."

"Mr. Horbury?" Jess repeated curiously.

"My solicitor."

Of course, none of this was news to Miss Marple, but it did make her think. In the clerk's mind, Katherine's company was as much to blame as the investors themselves, which explained his obvious hatred he'd expressed towards her earlier. So how must he feel seeing his own solicitor spending so much time with "the enemy"? Why would Mr. Horbury risk alienating his client so?

But suddenly Mr. Horbury's smitten smile at breakfast was replaced in Miss Marple's mind with an image of Superintendent Harper overfilling her teacup, and Miss Marple smiled. Mr. Horbury's thoughts, like the Inspector's, were clearly focused elsewhere, at least when a pretty young face was about.

"Pardon me, sir?"

Miss Marple jumped at the sudden sound of a new, masculine voice sounding at the desk behind her, and she craned her neck around the edge of her chair to see the uniformed police constable from breakfast approaching from the stairs.

The girls took this as their clue to leave, and Emily politely offered, "Thank you so much for your time, Mister...?"

"Campbell. Brian Campbell. And I hope you lovely ladies enjoy your stay here."

As the P.C. began to ask the clerk for room numbers for the various witnesses, Jess turned from the desk and, in doing so, locked eyes with Miss Marple, who was still swivelled in her chair.

"Miss Marple!" the girl exclaimed. "Why, I didn't even see you there. Nor the fire. That's certainly a good idea." The girl rushed over and took a seat on the hearth, and Miss Marple noticed for the first time that the poor girl was shivering. Of course, in her scandalously short frock, it was no wonder.

"You should go put on a cardigan," Miss Marple suggested. "You look positively frozen."

"I would if I could, but we left the reception so-"

"She did not pack one," Lady Merchant quickly stepped in to finish for her friend. "Neither of us did, I am afraid," she added, edging closer to the warmth of the fire herself.

Miss Marple frowned. She felt certain that no packing whatsoever had been done by the girls, for why else would they still be in their same eveningwear from last night? Jess had mentioned a reception-that would partly explain their clothes. But why had they left so suddenly? And why leave behind one's wrap when it was raining out? This brought to mind the rip of fabric upon the branch, and Miss Marple made a mental note to tell the Inspector about it when next she saw him.

In the meantime, she was eager to learn more from the girls. Pretending to look intently at the sock she was knitting, she tried to ask casually, "So were you able to see your gentleman friends this morning?"

"Yes," Jess answered eagerly but then said nothing further, and Miss Marple glanced up to see Lady Merchant glaring her friend into silence.

"I take it they are being treated well?" Miss Marple asked, curious to see if she could get more out of them.

But what she got instead was an excited, "Abby!" Jess stood and hurried across the lobby towards the blonde girl, who had just entered the front door carrying several shopping bags. "You're here! And you went shopping!"

Abby nodded, setting the bags down upon a coffee table on the far side of the lobby, and Miss Marple strained to catch her words. "I went out and got us some clothes. Thought we should try to fit in." She eyed Jess' hat meaningfully before sharing a look with Emily, who had also crossed to join them.

"And Connor?" Emily asked.

"He's out buying items for a detector."

"That'll come in handy-after all, we don't want to miss it," Jess said. "Now let's go try on clothes, shall we?" She picked up one of the shopping bags and eagerly headed towards the stairs.

"I picked us up some shoes as well," Abby explained as she and Emily followed. "Didn't think we'd want to be stuck in pumps day in and day out."

"Shoes!" Jess practically squealed with delight. "Ooh, I can hardly wait!"

And Miss Marple watched as the three girls disappeared down the corridor.

...

to be continued