Tom Hoke - Murder in the Grand Manor

Mr. and Mrs. Tribble exchanged a troubled look. The man in the seersucker suit, for some reason or other, began to take on dimension.

He seemed to be looking over the motley crew, holding back a question. Maybe all the characters that chose the Grand Manor didn't just happen into its doors for shelter.

Lena brought up the rear guard. Jim tapped her on the shoulder. "Could I have a word with you?" he said into her ear. She faced him and nodded. "Yes?" Suddenly he felt she was very much on guard.

"You knew Mrs. Benning pretty well, didn't you?"

She shrugged. "I suppose so, but that was years ago. She hasn't had much to do with me for some time."

"What about the picture in Mrs. Benning's room, Lena, the one on the east wall?"

"I think it's a very good likeness of Edith Benning," she asserted firmly in exactly Aunt Annie's words. "You've seen it?" she asked, staring at Jim.

"Let's get on with the plural. I've seen THEM,"

Jim said erroneously. "There's another portrait in Mrs. Benning's room beside the door. What about it?"

She frowned. "Oh. Maybe that's a portrait of her late husband. I wouldn't know." But who would want to destroy Mr. Benning's portrait?

If it was all that bad, somebody should have done it long before.

Lena's voice showed her impatience. "We have windows to tape." She grabbed up half a dozen candles from the table and marched to the lobby. Jim followed without an answer.

Aunt Annie was peering at her weather radio in astonishment. "I am sorry to say my radio is out of batteries. It isn't the kind you can plug in," she said apologetically. "Pure carelessness on my part, but I will call the local weather bureau immediately. Then we can learn exactly where Bertha is going to make landfall." She moved with majesty to the desk.

Her radio wasn't the only thing on the blink.

The telephone was also definitely out of order.

Aunt Annie rallied bravely. "Lena, hand out the masking tape. We haven't a minute to lose." She turned to say something to Leddon, who was still standing resignedly behind the desk, when Jim caught up with her. He led her protesting away from the desk to a corner.

He could have mentioned Jerry Duprey, whom he hoped was still hidden under his bed, the bellboy parked in the deep freeze, or the guy digging up the floor of the shed. However, Aunt Annie looked a little too frail for such a barrage. He only said, "I understand a doctor declared Mrs. Benning was dead. It must have been of natural causes or he would have called for an autopsy?"

She took her eyes away from the occupants of the lobby. "My dear Charlie, the only available doctor at the time was old, quite blind, and has been known to take on spirits even in the morning. Does that answer your question?"

Jim must have looked surprised, because she added, "The other two doctors in this community were attending ladies who took it upon themselves to produce babies at that time."

Jim had one answer, but it didn't make him feel happy. He came up with another question before she took off. "The only thing I do understand is Mrs. Edith Benning had one healthy sweet tooth. Did it ever occur to you somebody or other poisoned the lady with candy? There was a large box on the dresser in her room."

Aunt Annie didn't have to answer. Lena arrived at her side and announced, "Somebody left the candy on her dresser, Charlie. But it was somebody who didn't know Edith Benning."

"What do you mean?" Jim asked.

Lena set her pith helmet straight on her head.

"My dear Charlie, Edith Benning was a diabetic. She couldn't touch anything sweet!"

The man in the seersucker suit took on more dimension. He ceased to be negligible right at that moment. Suddenly he was standing at Jim’s elbow staring at Aunt Annie and Lena.

"You are saying Mrs. Benning WAS a diabetic!

I asked the gentleman at the desk for an appointment with her. He said nothing about her…her demise. Is Mrs. Benning dead?"

Both of the old girls nodded their heads. Aunt Annie, who seemed to know everyone's name said gently, "Mrs. Benning died a few days ago, quite suddenly, Mr. Reese."

He blinked. "But I had correspondence with her. I had business with her," he blurted.

"Unseemly as it may be, did she have any heirs?"

So Reese just didn't happen to arrive to seek shelter. Jim had surmised as much. He was part of the picture puzzle growing more complicated by the hour. He could have answered his question in one sentence. "One heir, Jerry Duprey, parked under my bed!" but he thought it better to hold his tongue.

Aunt Annie looked at Lena, then volunteered an answer, "Mrs. Benning does have one heir, a nephew." She didn't explain further because she didn't have time. Suddenly, every light in the hotel went out!

As the lights went out, a great deal of Aunt Annie's determination went with them. She was too flustered to answer any more questions. And Reese was too flustered to care. Aunt Annie's voice sounded a little quivery for the first time.

She said, "Lena, reach over on the desk and find a candle and light it." She was trying to sound firm. Lena, of course, announced she had a candle but no match. Jim flicked on his lighter, groped over to Lena who was holding up her candle, and lit it.

Leadership was changing hands fast. He guessed he was self-elected. Nobody else showed any signs of wanting to head up the hurricane detail in the Grand Manor. A look at the groom showed he had ideas, but not about hurricanes. Obviously he was willing to take charge…of his wife, that is. Jim lit a couple more candles, stuck them on the desk, and eyed the bride. Until now she hadn't had a chance to tell her husband about the body in the freezer. He had to think up a good answer for that one when she told him. But now he was the General!

"Where's the lantern, Aunt Annie?" She looked relieved to give up her job, and pointed to the lantern on the floor behind a chair. "I put it there to keep it from being knocked off the desk," she replied. He nodded and Aunt Annie picked up the lantern, took a newly discovered book of matches from Lena, and lit it.

As long as boiling water was out, there were always the windows to tape. Jim was not so sure taping windows didn't fall into the category of boiling water…keeping everybody busy. He was for it after he stalked through the inner doors into the vestibule and peered through the windows.

What was going on outside their shaky old refuge was unbelievable. Sure it had stood up to the forty-seven storm. That was all very well, but what about now? He wouldn't have believed it before, and he hardly believed it now. The wires on the poles outside were flapping against each other in the crazy gusting wind, putting on a show of fireworks unequaled by any Fourth of July celebration anywhere. Water was dashing up on the lawn of the Grand Manor. He turned back into the lobby.

The lantern light eerily illuminated everybody in the room. The man in the shorts seemed to have shrunk. The newest part of the puzzle, Reese, still appeared to be dumbfounded. Mr. and Mrs. Tribble were holding hands. George, the bartender, acted like he was guarding his premises, holding a tall glass in his hand, which was probably NOT a soft drink. The bride and groom were holding hands too. Jim bet hers were icy. The salesmen had sunk into a wobbly couch. Apparently they were sobering up and not too happy about it.

Leddon seemed to be looking for something, perhaps a way out. Lena and Aunt Annie stood at attention bravely. They acted like they were facing an advancing enemy. They were, and there was not a sound out of any of them.

Suddenly the outer door flew open and somebody began beating on the inner door.

Whoever wanted in had a problem, because Jim had locked the inner door to keep it from opening. Nobody in the room made a move.