IMPERFECTION by Ray Clark (e novels to read online TXT) 📗

the unfortunate death of Mr White. He was by himself, and spent approximately two hours in the room. Alone.” Sparrow spoke as if he severely resented the police and their business, whilst continually moving his hands and arms as if to express those feelings. “And they told us we were not allowed to rent the room out to anyone until the investigation had been closed. And furthermore, he covered the bloody door with Scenes of Crimes tape, so that everyone else staying here would know.”

“Did he ask you for a current guest list?”

“No. Should he have done?”

Gardener glanced around. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“Well, I am rather busy at the moment.”

“So are we, Mr Sparrow. And we are real police officers, and we would like a current guest list. I also want someone to take over the reception desk while you tell us everything you know. What he looked like, his name, where he went, where he said he was from...”

Sparrow’s expression became grave. To his credit, he arranged for Gardener’s requests to be carried out immediately. Two minutes later they were sitting in the hotel bar, which was equally as quaint but with an interior design slightly different to the rest of the building, wooden ceiling beams, red velvet curtains, and carpet. Classical music played low in the background.

“What was his name?” asked Gardener, seated comfortably in a leather Chesterfield chair.

“Inspector Burke.”

Gardener glanced at Reilly, who simply shrugged.

“What’s wrong?” asked Sparrow.

“Can you give us a description?”

“He was tall, well built. Stocky, but not fat. His hair was grey, combed back, and he had long sideburns. He had quite big ears, and the most appallingly wrinkled skin. The man had clearly never seen a tub of moisturizer. He was dressed in a suit that was almost as wrinkled as his face, probably came from an Oxfam shop. There’s enough of them in the town.”

Sparrow sighed more than necessary, glanced at his manicured hands frequently before making another comment. “His nails were disgusting – bitten to the quick. To be perfectly honest, he reminded me of a 1930s film star.”

How interesting, thought Gardener, that Sparrow’s comment should be linked to the film world. Gardener was beginning to feel the killer had not only left them a bunch of puzzles and clues to follow, but he was clever enough to stay a step ahead of them.

“We will need to see the room,” said Gardener. “But for now, let’s concentrate on Leonard White. Who picked him up last Friday?”

“Well now, he was something. Very smart chauffeur, peaked cap, blond hair, good looking, slim, he should have been in films.”

“Did he say where he was from?”

“I think the company was called Executive Cars.”

“Did he give you a card?”

“No. Now there’s the strange thing, you see. It wasn’t Leonard’s usual choice of limousine. Different company altogether.”

Gardener noticed the first name terms, and the fact that Sparrow’s attitude had changed somewhat. “Who were the usual company?”

“Star Limousines in Leeds.”

“Did he offer an explanation for the change of companies?”

“He most certainly did, Mr Gardener,” said Sparrow. “After I phoned his room, Leonard came down. He was quite confused at being picked up a day early. With no engagement on the Thursday night, all he wanted to do on Friday was relax in the hotel and go for short walks in the countryside. The driver told him that his wife had had a serious accident and the car had been laid on to take him all the way back to a hospital in the Lake District. Despite the driver being quite calm, there was an edge to his manner.” Sparrow paused, and then added, “Lovely fingernails, I have to say.”

“Which hospital?”

“I don’t believe it was mentioned.”

“Did you notice the registration of the car?” asked Gardener.

“I’m afraid I didn’t, but at that point I didn’t suspect anything.”

“So, what happened next?”

“Well, Leonard seemed quite concerned. He wanted to go back to his room to use the phone and to pack. The driver said there wasn’t enough time. The old man was beside himself with worry. I told him to keep calm, when I had the time I would pack his things and send them on. Leonard is a regular of ours, you see.”

“And have you?” asked Reilly.

“Not yet. Inspector Burke arrived first thing yesterday morning and told me not to disturb the room. And I had to leave it exactly as it was, after he’d left.”

“So off they went, just like that, Leonard and the chauffeur?” questioned Reilly.

“Yes. The driver said Leonard could use the phone in the car to check on his wife’s condition.”

“Did you think to phone anyone?” asked Reilly. “The limo company, any of the hospitals? Leonard White’s agent?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t. I do have a hotel to run.”

“So, you just let them go without asking for identification? Afterwards, you did no checking?” pushed Reilly. “If he was such a regular customer, I would have expected a little more courtesy towards him. Surprising, really.”

“What is?” asked Sparrow.

“The fact that you didn’t,” said Reilly. “You don’t seem to have missed much else, Mr Sparrow.”

The receptionist didn’t answer, preferring instead to study his nails.

“Let’s see the room,” said Gardener.

“Of course.”

The three of them left the bar and walked up a wide, sprawling staircase with a well-polished banister and a luxurious wool carpet. A door opened into a small square lobby, the entrance to three of the hotel rooms.

Gardener took a pair of gloves from his jacket pocket and removed the scene tape. He opened the door. An entrance hall led to the bathroom on the right. The main room – beyond glass doors – was enormous, possibly the largest Gardener had ever seen for a hotel.

“Jesus Christ!” said Reilly. Obviously the biggest he’d