Murder on the White Cliffs by L. B. Hathaway

Author:L. B. Hathaway [Hathaway, L. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 51481991
Publisher: Whitehaven Man Press London
Published: 2020-05-20T23:00:00+00:00

Twenty-One

‘Elsie Moncrieff was a professional, gun-toting spy,’ said Posie, matter-of-factly.

‘Tip-top. I’m not sure who exactly she was working for. But the clues were all there at the Inquest. I should have realised it then. There was no “official documentation” to be found for her; it was as if she didn’t exist. She’d covered her tracks well, and gave little of herself away. She couldn’t afford to get close to anyone, despite being a beautiful and vivacious girl who loved music, and fashion, and dancing.’

Posie was sure of her story now:

‘She’d surrounded herself with expertly-chosen people to spy for her; to hear things she might not be able to. Elsie was actively reporting to someone, and she checked in once a week, from here. She had a special call-name. It was “Burning Dog”. This hotel, and this room, in fact – by some strange fluke – was her safe place. Every Sunday afternoon.’

She indicated to the paintings on the wall. ‘These were painted by Elsie. Lovely, aren’t they?’

Lovelace looked over at them briefly. ‘Er, yes, darling. They look familiar though.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m sure I’ve seen something like them recently.’

Sergeant Fox was tirelessly eager, his policeman’s notebook open on his knee. ‘What exactly was she spying on, Miss?’

Posie frowned. ‘My feeling is that Elsie was placed at White Shaw to spy generally, mainly on the guests who would come to the lavish parties. But then, especially this year, she started to concentrate on Petronella herself. Almost exclusively. Elsie even went as far as to hire a suitable lover for the woman.’

Fox whistled beneath his breath. ‘That doesn’t come cheap! Elsie Moncrieff must have been serious about wanting information.’

‘Quite. She was especially fascinated by Petronella’s financial affairs. Elsie evidently thought there was something fishy about it all.’

Posie explained about Petronella re-mortgaging White Shaw, about the Fashion House being in trouble. The repayment of the loan by ‘Taylors’. The oddness about “Mr Tell”.

‘Do you have anything from the bank yet, Sergeant? Or from Companies House?’ she asked hopefully, but Fox shook his head.

‘I’m still waiting for pretty much everything you asked for, Miss. Sorry. It will come this morning, I’m sure of it.’

Posie looked directly at Richard, who so far hadn’t said a word. He had lit up a cigarette and was smoking it now in careful, long, slow drags, like he had all the time in the world.

‘There are still a few things I’m unclear about,’ Posie said, anxiously, consulting her list.

‘First, I feel there was a man involved in all of this, helping Elsie. Especially right at the start of the project, but I don’t know what happened to him. Or who he might be. There is a suggestion this very same man met Elsie in here again, on Sunday afternoon. It’s all jolly odd.’

She shook her head in puzzlement as Fox faithfully took notes.

‘And second, I don’t know what Petronella found in Elsie’s flat on Sunday, but it sent the Fashion Designer over the edge: caused her to write the

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