Agnes Lockwood Mysteries Collection

Chapter 8

By now Agnes had joined the crowd gathering in the Reception. They were told that once the police questioned all the staff who was still on duty, they would need to speak to the guests. Meanwhile no one could leave the hotel.

The manager was horrified at the thought. He said he could not allow it; insisting no one could enter any of the hotel rooms without a key card. “It is absolutely impossible.”

Agnes felt a little sorry for him. This was certainly not good news for the hotel. She looked at the people standing near the manager, wondering whether Angela was one of them. Her eyes rested on a woman who seemed to be bursting to say something. Surely that had to be Angela.

She was about forty-five or thereabouts. It was hard to tell as her face was layered with make-up. She was wearing a closely-fitted, dark red dress. But, at the moment, Agnes"s eyes were fixed on her necklace. It looked very expensive. If the one she"d had stolen was similar, it was little wonder she was making such a fuss.

Agnes was proved to be right when the woman finally got the chance to butt in.

“That"s rubbish!” Angela said, wagging her finger at him. “We read about people hacking into computers all the time. I"m sure such a scoundrel could devise a master key card to every hotel room as simple as that.” She snapped her fingers. “I absolutely insist that every room be thoroughly searched right now.” She was so enraged her face had almost turned as red as her dress and her long dangling earrings shook violently as she spoke. “Someone here has stolen my valuable necklace given to me by my lovely husband. I want it found and the thief prosecuted.”

Agnes looked at the men standing nearby, wondering which one was the "lovely George". He hadn"t said a word during the whole episode in reception. However, for some reason after Angela"s last remark, one of the men opened his mouth to say something. But he didn"t get the chance, as Angela held up her hand to interrupt him.

“George, I am dealing with this. Leave it to me.”

Without another word, George pushed his way through the crowd and headed towards the bar.

Agnes watched him disappear into the bar. She thought he looked relieved to be out of the spotlight. Summing him up, she thought he appeared to be slightly older than his wife, quite tall, and rather slimly built. Probably a very attractive man in his youth, but at the moment he looked as though he was carrying the world on his shoulders.

Agnes understood how upset Angela must be at having a gift from her husband stolen while they were out enjoying themselves, however the woman did seem to be a bit of a dragon where he was concerned. Did she really have to act so – dominant?

She placed her hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle. Dominant! Where did that come from? But somehow it seemed to fit nicely with Angela"s personality. It was possible George enjoyed his wife being dominant in the boudoir. He did look like the tall, silent type. Maybe Angela just carried it a little too far when they were in the real world.

“I am so terribly sorry for the inconvenience.” The voice of Mr Jenkins interrupted Agnes"s thoughts. He had disappeared into his office for a few minutes, but now he was back trying to soothe the throng of guests who had gathered to see what all the fuss was about. He took out his handkerchief and mopped his forehead. “I have spoken with a police superintendent and it seems that I have little choice, but to allow a complete search of all the rooms at the hotel. However,” he held up his hand when the people standing in front of him began to protest. “However,” he repeated. “I insisted that a senior police officer is placed in charge of the investigation – someone who will respect the privacy of our guests. I am pleased to say the superintendent has agreed.” He paused. “Meanwhile, I have been asked to inform you that no one will be allowed to leave the hotel until the search has been made. But I am assured it will be carried out as soon as possible.”

By now, the reception area was buzzing with activity. Agnes looked around at her fellow guests. There was some making a fuss – most especially the ones she had previously thought might be spending the evening at a concert. Others were calling friends and relatives on their mobile phones to pass on the news of them being held inside the hotel.

“No June, we"re not being held at gunpoint,” Agnes heard one woman yell down her phone. But, the way the woman went on to describe the scene, they might well have been. However, most were making their way to the bar. To them, it seemed a stiff drink was called for.

“Does that mean we won"t be able to check out this evening?” said a man to one of the police officers.

“Yes it does,” replied the officer. “Is that a problem for you?” he added narrowing his eyes. Could this man be the culprit anxious to get out of the hotel?

“Heck, no,” said the man, his American accent showing through. “We"re on our honeymoon and would love an extra night here. That"s great, man – err, I mean, officer.”

Agnes left the reception area and went back into the Drawing Room. Despite her previous thoughts on the strategically placed mirrors, she chose a sofa where she could see most of what was going on outside in reception. For a while it was quite calm. A few people checked in at the desk, most of the new guests had already arrived earlier in the day. But, she noticed that after being given the keycard to their room, they were shown across to the Drawing Room, where complimentary drinks were offered for the inconvenience.

However, the calmness was about to be broken as Mr Jenkins, accompanied by another man, appeared from his office. They both walked across to the reception desk, where Mr Jenkins spoke to one of the staff on duty. She nodded and rang the small bell on the desk.

Some of the people sitting in the bar and the Drawing Room went out to see what was going on.

“Chief Inspector Johnson would like to speak to you all,” called out the manager, once he had their attention. “I"m sure the chief inspector won"t detain you any longer than necessary.” He nodded towards the detective, indicating he could begin his inquiry.

“I understand how inconvenient this must be to everyone staying at the hotel. However, it seems that one of the guests has had a rather valuable necklace stolen and…” the chief inspector was interrupted.

“She"s simply mislaid it.” The voice came from the back of the reception area. “She does this sort of thing all the time.”

Agnes recognised George"s voice, even though his words were very slurred. Obviously he"d had too much to drink.

“Will you stop saying that? I have not mislaid my necklace,” Angela hissed. “It has been stolen!” She paused when she realised all eyes were now pinned on her. “I"m sorry, inspector, do please carry on.”

“Chief Inspector,” he corrected her before continuing. “As I was saying we need to search each guest and also their rooms before anyone is allowed to leave the hotel. We"ll begin with those guests who need to check out this evening.” He paused when one of the officers whispered something in his ear. “I have been reminded that some people are going to the concert being held in The Sage this evening. Therefore we will try to check your rooms first.” He nodded towards his sergeant, before continuing. “I"m sure we can do this in an orderly manner and get it over with as quickly as possible. My sergeant will take the names of all those who need to leave the hotel this evening for whatever reason.”

The moment the chief inspector stopped speaking, everyone started talking, Agnes stood there wondering what to do next. Should she go into the Drawing Room and wait until she was called. She was booked into the hotel for another five days and hadn"t any plans for the evening, which meant there was no rush for her or her room to be searched right away.

She glanced across at the chief inspector. He looked rather tired. Perhaps he had just been about to go off duty when this call came through to his office. Or was it simply because he saw this as another case where some over-rich woman had hidden her necklace in a safe place in her room, but then forgot where she had put it.

Agnes couldn"t help thinking Chief Inspector Johnson was a rather attractive man, despite the lines of tiredness etched on his face. Placing her head on one side, she peered at him inquisitively and made a guess that he was about her age. He was rather tall, clean shaven and his dark hair was showing a hint of grey at the sides. Something she thought made him look rather distinguished. He was wearing a dark grey suit, white shirt and a dark grey tie. She noted that his shoes were so polished, he would be able to see his face in them should he ever be caught without a mirror.

But then she realised that all police detectives wore suits these days; it was their badge of office so to speak. She guessed that the character in the TV show, Morse probably had a lot to do with that. But this particular detective"s suit looked a cut above regular suits. Could it be handmade? She wondered whether the wages of the police force stretched to hand made suits.

MorseAgnes blushed slightly and looked away quickly when the chief inspector glanced over in her direction. She casually walked across to the window, but, out of the corner of her eye, she could see that he was still watching her. Did he think she looked guilty? She really had to stop trying to analyze people. Jim always said it would get her into trouble one day. But she couldn"t help herself. It was simply a habit she couldn"t break.

Agnes was staring out of the window at the bright coloured lights on the quayside, when the Chief Inspector spoke to her.

“Excuse me,” said the detective.

Agnes caught her breath; she hadn"t heard him approach. Rather surprising, she thought, policemen were known for their big feet. Pushing the thought from her mind, she turned around to face him.

“Yes,” she said, giving a broad smile.

“I"m sorry to bother you, but are you Agnes Harrison by any chance?”

Agnes peered at the detective. It had been some years since anyone had called her by her maiden name.

“No – yes – no,” she sighed and shook her head. Now she was beginning to sound like an i***t. “Can I start again?”

The detective grinned. His brown eyes twinkled and he nodded for her to continue.

“I was Agnes Harrison before I was married. I am Agnes Lockwood now.” She peered at him. “Should I know you?”

“My name is Alan Johnson. I think we were in the same class at school.”

“Alan Johnson,” Agnes repeated the name twice to herself before she made the connection. “Yes! I think I remember you. You were always talking about joining the army. Or was it the air force?”

“The army,” he confirmed. “Yes that was me.”

“And did you? Join the army, I mean.”

“Yes, I did.”

Agnes gave a slight grin. That would account for his smart suit and polished shoes, she thought. “But now you are with the police force?”

That would account for his smart suit and polished shoes,“Yes – long story.” He hesitated. “Look, you will have gathered that I"m rather tied up at the moment,” he said, glancing back at the commotion going on behind him. The quiet atmosphere of earlier had quickly changed into chaos as people realised that the search was really going to happen. “But would you care to meet up with me later for a drink in the bar? We could catch up with what has happened to us over the years. Ask your husband to join us,” he added, suddenly noticing the wedding ring on her finger.

“Thank you,” Agnes replied. “That would be nice. However, I"m afraid it will just be me. My husband died a year ago.”

“I"m sorry to hear that. I best get back to the investigation,” he added, changing the subject. “I"ll meet you in the bar in about an hour or so.”

Agnes watched until he disappeared into the crowd by the reception desk. His sergeant looked relieved to see him return; the guests were becoming a little more agitated. The sergeant then glanced in her direction and frowned. He was probably wondering who she was. Or, might he be thinking she was a suspect?

She turned back to the window. It seemed she had a date. It would make a nice change having someone to sit with in the bar or the lounge. She had felt the odd one out since she had arrived at the hotel. It would be fun talking about all their old friends at school and as Alan still lived in this area it was possible he was still in touch with a few of them. If that was the case, she would ask him to make arrangements for a re-union. After all, that was the reason for her visit to Tyneside in the first place.

She glanced at her watch. There was time for her to pop up to her room and freshen up. She almost skipped up the stairs and very nearly bumped into Angela at the top. Angela was wearing her glum face and didn"t even try to smile when Agnes apologized.

But, at that moment, Agnes couldn"t care less. Tonight, at fifty five years old, she had a date!