The Corpse Wore Tartan (16 page)

For once, Liss didn't even think of objecting to having a big, strong man along to protect her. But as they headed upstairs, it suddenly dawned on her that Sherri didn't really believe that Dilys had killed once and might kill again. More than that, Sherri expected Dilys's hotel room to be the
last
place she'd be. Sherri was humoring her! Still, she went through the motions and, as she'd anticipated, there was no one in the room Dilys had slept in for the last two nights. Liss came away from there still carrying her two plastic bags.

“Does Dilys have a locker?” she asked Dan on their way back downstairs. “Someplace to store her purse when she's working?”

“All the employees do. I can open it, but I think we'd better leave that to Sherri, don't you?”

Liss jiggled the plastic bags. “I just want to leave Dilys's clothes there.”

“Sure you do.” But he led the way to the locker room and opened the one that had Dilys's name taped to the front.

Like the hotel room, it was empty. Disappointed, Liss deposited Dilys's possessions inside. Then, while Dan went to report their lack of success to Sherri, Liss took the other bag to Rhonda. The matriarch of the Snipes family had been in the dining room when they left it to go in search of Richardson Bruce. She was still there, sitting in a corner by herself, hunched over a cup of tea.

“Have you seen Dilys?” Liss asked when she'd given Rhonda the change of clothing and received a surprised “thank you” in return.

“Not since before lunch. Was everyone okay in town? My family?”

“Uh, sure. The place was nice and warm from the woodstove.”

Rhonda stared hard at Liss's face, then sighed. “Let me guess—guzzling beer and playing cards, all three of them?”

“Uh—”

“Never mind.” She started to get up.

“Wait, Rhonda. Sit, please. Can I ask you about Dilys?”

“What about her?” Reluctantly, Rhonda resumed her seat.

“She's your cousin, right?”

“Distant.”

“Did you see much of her before she moved into your spare room?”

“Once in a while. Not often.”

“Did she ever say why she wanted to move to Moosetookalook?”

“Said she had a fancy to work at a grand hotel.” Rhonda shrugged and took a sip of her tea. “Lot of nonsense, that was. A job's a job, and cleaning up strangers' messes is the same no matter how ritzy the surroundings are.”

“What about the group staying here, the Scottish Heritage Appreciation Society? Did she ever mention them to you?”

Rhonda shook her head, but she eyed Liss with increased wariness.

“Did Dilys have a purse with her?”

“A purse? What kind of question is that?”

“Her locker is empty. We just wondered if—”

At that, Rhonda gave a screech and sat up straight. “What were you doing snooping in her locker? Those are supposed to be private.”

“Now, Rhonda, you know management reserves the right to open employee lockers. I assume that's why Sadie hid her cigarettes elsewhere.”

But Liss's words had no effect. Instead of calming down, Rhonda became more agitated. She shoved her chair away from the table and came to her feet in a rush. Her teacup overturned, spilling the dregs onto the snowy white tablecloth. “What's going on here? Why are our civil rights being violated?”

Liss gaped at her. Civil rights? Where had
that
come from? “We're trying to discover who killed Phil MacMillan, Rhonda. That's all.”

“MacMillan?” A stricken look on her face, Rhonda abruptly plopped back down in her chair. “That's who was killed? MacMillan? I didn't know. No one ever said a name.”

“You know, then, that Dilys was once engaged?”

Face pale, hands trembling as she automatically righted her empty teacup, Rhonda nodded. “Dilys was going to marry some guy named MacMillan, but he called it off at the last minute. She was bitter about that. Who wouldn't be? Is he the one Sadie found?”

“No. Dilys was engaged to Phineas MacMillan. It was his brother, Phil, who was killed.”

“Phil. That's right. I remember now. Dilys blamed the brother—Phil—for breaking them up. He faked some pictures. Made it look like Dilys was running around on her fiancé. She told anybody who'd listen that she'd like to kill that sonofabitch.”

Realizing too late what she'd just said, Rhonda's eyes went wide, but she could not call back the damning words.

So, Liss thought, maybe the murderer didn't make a mistake, after all. Maybe it was Phil Dilys had intended to kill all along.

S
herri had mixed feelings about bringing civilians into the search for Dilys and Phineas, but she didn't see that she had much choice, especially after Liss repeated her conversation with Rhonda. If she didn't look for the woman, Liss would go hunting for Dilys on her own. On the other hand, two officers of the law simply couldn't canvass the entire hotel by themselves. That being the case, Sherri felt justified in gathering her troops together in the conference room—herself and Pete, Liss, Dan, and Joe, and Sam and Margaret, who had come back from town at the same time as Liss and Dan.

“I'm trying to locate Dilys Marcotte,” Sherri announced. “It looks as if Phineas MacMillan, upon discovering that Dilys, to whom he was once engaged, was in the hotel, went looking for her. Now they're both missing.”

“Phineas could be dead,” Liss said.

Sherri scowled at her, but she supposed they all had a right to know the rest. “It's possible Dilys is the one who killed Phil.
Possible
. So be careful.”

“Maybe she didn't kill anyone. Perhaps Phineas realized he made a terrible mistake by breaking up with her and you can't find them because they're off somewhere having spectacular make-up sex.”

Everyone turned to stare at Margaret Boyd, showing an interesting variety of facial expressions.

“What? It could happen.”

Sherri cleared her throat. For all she knew, Margaret was right. “Whatever the reason for their disappearance, I want them both found, especially Dilys, and the sooner the better. If that means knocking on every door, so be it.”

Dilys had lied about knowing Phil. She might well have held back other information in an effort to protect herself. Sherry really needed to talk to her.

“At least we don't have to worry about her leaving the hotel,” Dan said.

They all looked out the window. Sleet battered the glass. The second storm had blown in as predicted and showed no sign of letting up any time soon.

They started with the basement—storerooms, the break room and locker room, the health center, and the room that contained an indoor pool. Most of the doors were locked and they had to use the passkeys Joe Ruskin provided to open them. Dilys had a passkey, too, Sherri reminded herself. She could be anywhere.

“It's too cold to spend much time down here.” Liss shivered in spite of the warm sweater she'd brought from home. Sherri had on her uniform jacket to ward off the chill.

“But this is where Phil was killed,” Dan said, joining them. The rest of the search party was right behind him. Over by the crime scene tape, Simon the bartender watched them, curious to know what they were up to, but too far away to overhear what they were saying.

“Why was Phil down here?” Margaret asked.

“To meet somebody?” Liss suggested.

“Why would he agree to meet anyone, particularly Dilys, in the basement?” Sherri wondered aloud. “I could see it if it were Phineas, but—”

“No, that won't wash, either. They all had rooms. There's no good reason for any guest to be down here. Not Phil. Not Phineas. Not even Dilys. Certainly not Eunice.”

Sherri sent a quelling look Liss's way. “Who besides you heard Phil say that he was going to check out the pool?”

Liss's brow knit as she tried to remember. “It was after Will MacHenry scurried off, so only Russ and Tory were still with me.”

“Will had gone? You're certain?”

“Yes, I'm sure of it. And anyway, we all knew by then that it was Phil, not Phineas.”

“But Phineas thinks Will MacHenry is the killer,” Sherri confided. “He came right out and told me that I'd let a murderer escape when I allowed Will to accompany his father to the hospital.”

Dan weighed in. “Taking a swing at someone because he upset your elderly, ailing father is a far cry from killing him for it.”

“It would make more sense if Phil had been murdered by mistake for Phineas
after
Harvey MacHenry collapsed,” Pete said. “But he wasn't.”

Margaret cleared her throat. “I hate to speak ill of anyone, but Will has had his…problems in the past.”

Once again, they all turned to look at her.

“What kind of problems?” Sherri wasn't sure she wanted to know. She had too many suspects already.

“Oh, you know—brawling, drunk driving, resisting arrest. The usual kind of thing a young man with too much money and not enough sense will do. But all that was ages ago. He hasn't been in a bit of trouble since that time he spent six months in the county jail.”

“Exactly how long ago are we talking about?” Sherri asked.

“Oh, let me see. It must be a good twenty years by now. The whole experience was probably good for him. What do they call it—scared straight?”

Sherri wondered if Phineas knew about that incident. She decided he did not. Otherwise it would have been featured in his before-supper speech.

Back on the main floor of the hotel, they opted to search in the west wing first: the lounge that overlooked the pool, the music room, the library, the game room, the gift shop, and the business center, where computers and printers—none of them working at the moment—were available to guests. On the other side of the lobby, in the east wing, they searched the offices, the restrooms, the restaurant, and the kitchen. No one they encountered had seen either Dilys or Phineas.

The mezzanine contained function rooms, including the small, private dining room that had been used for the Burns Night Supper, and a ballroom. It was eerily quiet on that level. No one had any reason to be there. The search went quickly and turned up nothing.

“How many guest rooms?” Sherri asked as they reconvened at the stairwell next to the elevators and headed up to the next level en masse. Without power, using the stairs was their only option. Lanterns and flashlights still provided the only illumination.

“One hundred and forty,” Dan said.

“That many?” Sherri repressed a groan. This was impossible. It would take forever to go through all the rooms, and for what? She had no proof of any wrongdoing. Besides, what was to say that their quarry wouldn't go down another flight of stairs while they were climbing up this one?

“It's not so bad,” Dan said. “We're not using the rooms in either wing. Those sections are closed off from the rest of the hotel on the second and third floors to save on heat.”

“What about the tower rooms?” One at each corner contained a fourth-floor suite, and there were fourth and fifth-floor suites in the tower at the center of the hotel.

“Two of the corner towers are closed off, too. So we have fifty-six fewer rooms to search—only eighty-four doors to knock on.”

But Liss didn't buy the math. “A killer isn't likely to obey a
KEEP OUT
sign.”

“Suspect,” Sherri corrected her. She glanced at Dan. “Exactly how are those sections closed off?”

“Wooden pocket doors. Locked.”

“But they can be opened with a passkey, right? And Dilys is on the housekeeping staff, so she has a passkey. We'll have to take a look at the rooms in those wings, too, if we don't find Dilys and Phineas elsewhere first.” Sherri decided to leave them till last, though. If there was no heat in those areas, no one with any sense would try to hole up there.

Determined to be organized and thorough, even though she still wasn't convinced that Liss's theory was correct, Sherri checked to make sure that each of her searchers had a walkie-talkie before she gave them their assignments. “Margaret, I want you watching the stairwell at the east end. Joe, you take the west stairs. The rest of us will go door-to-door. If someone answers a knock, ask to come in. If no one's there, go in with a passkey. Don't forget to look in the bathrooms and closets of empty rooms.”

“What about under the bed?” Liss asked.

Sherri wondered if that was sarcasm. She decided it was not. Liss was a straightforward person and rarely managed to be subtle.

The hunt continued to be time-consuming and frustrating. A few people were in their rooms, but most were empty. Nowhere did anyone spot any sign of Dilys or Phineas, and no one they encountered recalled seeing either of them since well before lunch. The searchers moved on to the third floor.

 

Liss rapped on the door of Eunice MacMillan's suite. She knew that Sherri had not abandoned her theory that Eunice had killed her husband, and she certainly hadn't exonerated the woman of complicity in Phil's scheme to defraud his insurance company. If Eunice wasn't in, Liss decided, maybe she would take the opportunity to search the premises. After all, she had Joe Ruskin's permission to enter any room in the hotel. She hardly needed Eunice's okay, let alone a search warrant. At least she didn't think she needed one. Sherri probably knew exactly what constituted illegal search and seizure. She wouldn't approve of Liss's plan. Then again, she didn't have to know about it, not unless Liss found something. She was just about to stick her passkey in the lock when Eunice opened the door.

“Oh, it's you,” Eunice said in voice icier than the storm outside. “What do you want?”

“I'd like to come in, Ms. MacMillan.”

“Why?”

“I have a few questions for you about Dilys Marcotte.”

Eunice jumped back as if she'd stuck her hand in a electrical socket. Her voice rose to a shriek. “Dilys Marcotte? What the hell does that little tramp have to do with anything! That conniving gold digger is long gone.”

“I'm afraid that's not quite true,” Liss said. “Do you want to discuss this in the hall?”

Reluctantly, Eunice waved her inside. The blanket abandoned on the sofa told Liss that Eunice had been huddling under it for warmth. Reluctant to go back downstairs where Sherri could get at her? Since she'd told Sherri that she wouldn't answer any more questions until she'd consulted a lawyer, that seemed a logical conclusion.

Without waiting for an invitation, Liss plunked herself down in a comfortable armchair and waited for Eunice to sit. Instead, the other woman scooped up the blanket and flung it around her shoulders.

“What's this nonsense about Dilys Marcotte?” she demanded.

“Dilys works at the hotel.”

Eunice's expression was one of disbelief. “Surely not. I'd have recognized her.”

“Her appearance has changed in the last few years and she's been careful to keep a low profile.” How much more, Liss wondered, should she tell Eunice? It had to be enough to provoke her into talking. Suddenly inspiration struck. “Dilys may have been the one who entered your suite while you were meeting with me before the Burns Night Supper.”

A fascinating sequence of emotions played across Eunice's features, but chief among them was confusion. She'd lied about the brooch being stolen. Had she also made up the story about someone searching the suite?

“I'm told,” Liss said, repeating what she'd learned from Rhonda, “that it was your husband who caused Phineas to break his engagement to Dilys.”

Eunice tugged the blanket more tightly closed and settled herself on the sofa with her legs curled beneath her. “Dilys Marcotte,” she said, “was only after the trust fund.”

“Go on.”

“There's not much to tell. Phil and Phineas inherited a trust fund from their father. It was split evenly between the two of them, and the principal was sufficient to allow both of them to live comfortably on the interest. However, the way it was set up, there was a big payout when each of them married. That, of course, reduced the principal. Phil and I benefitted from that provision. Phin's engagement meant he'd get his share, after which the interest on what was left would be much less.” She shrugged. “Phil didn't want to take a cut in pay, so to speak, so he started rumors about Dilys. Attacks on her moral character. Her associates. You know the sort of thing.”

“Lies?”

“I don't know if the stories were true or not, and I don't care. Phil came up with some photographs—Dilys leaving a motel room with another man. He said he'd hired a private detective to follow her. Whatever the truth of the matter, Phineas believed Phil's story, and the pictures. That was all that counted. In fact, Phil's plan worked even better than he'd hoped. After that, Phineas stopped trusting anyone and he vowed never to marry, which suited Phil very well.”

A shrink would have a field day with this family, Liss thought, and even a layperson like herself could see that Phineas had probably been taking out his bitterness on innocent bystanders in that speech at the Burns Night Supper.

“What happens to the trust fund now that Phil's dead?” she asked.

“I inherit Phil's share,” Eunice admitted.

Sherri would like that—more motive for Eunice. Time to leave, Liss decided. She thanked Eunice for her time and headed out, intending to go straight to Sherri. Perhaps her friend had picked the right suspect, after all. That trust fund gave Eunice an excellent reason to kill her husband.

 

Sherri had just come out of one of the rooms on the third floor when she recognized the man walking toward her. It was Phineas MacMillan. Surprise had her going completely blank for a moment. He seemed even more startled to see her.

“Ah, were you looking for your sister-in-law?” Sherri asked when she could string words together coherently. Eunice's suite was just a few doors down. Liss was just leaving it.

“Oh, er…yes.” He didn't sound very certain.

Liss saw them, recognized Phineas, and for once contained her impatience when Sherri sent her a warning look. She gave a little wave, then headed in the other direction, but she went no farther than the stairwell, where Margaret Boyd was standing guard.

Sherri pulled herself together and ignored the two women. “Could I talk to you a minute, Mr. MacMillan?”

He flashed her a bright, toothy smile at odds with his usual surly manner. “Certainly. How can I help you, Officer?”