She looked at him, startled. Then her eyes tightened a little, telling him he was right.
“Exactly,” she said. “Much too messy. All that blood. It was just awful.”
“There’s another reason you would not have used a knife,” Jack continued, thinking it through. “You’d have to take the risk of getting dangerously close to your target. You are not a large woman. According to your story, you were easily overpowered by the man who followed you into the stacks.”
Irritation flashed in Prudence’s electric eyes. “I was not easily overpowered, Mr.Wingate. I was taken by surprise and attacked with chloroform. There’s a difference.”
He ignored that. “And then there’s the fact that a knife does not always make for a quick kill. It takes skill and expertise to guaranteeefficiency. As a librarian you would have known about those factors because you would have done the research.”
Prudence gave him a wary look. “Skill and expertise?”
“You might get lucky with the first strike and hit an artery,” he said. “The odds are not good, though, unless you know a great deal about the human body. But mostly it’s the mess that would persuade you to use another means. From a purely practical point of view, there would be the possibility of leaving too many clues. Bloodstained clothing is difficult to get rid of. No, you might pick up a knife as a last resort, but it would not be your first choice if you had time to plan.”
Prudence was distracted by the observation. “That scene in the hotel bridal suite indicates a great deal of advance planning, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does,” Jack said. He paused as another thought occurred. “The newspapers said the gown was drenched in blood.”
Prudence frowned. “No, not drenched. There were several stains on it, and on the veil, too, but it wasn’t actually soaked in blood, if you see what I mean.”
“What about the bed?” Jack asked. “Was there a great deal of blood on it?”
“No, there wasn’t. There was a lot of blood on Gilbert’s clothes but not on the bedspread.”
“The bed had not been turned down?” Jack said.
“No.” Prudence gave him an expectant look. “Well? What does that tell you?”
“Not a lot,” Jack admitted. “Just that Dover was killed somewhere else. His body was smuggled into the hotel, probably in a laundry cart or a large traveling trunk. You must have been transported the same way.”
Prudence shuddered. “What a ghastly thought. But I see what you mean.”
“Whoever set the scene in the suite probably dressed in hotel livery or workman’s clothes,” he added.
“I suppose it would have been tricky to stab a man to death in a classy hotel like the Pentland Plaza without drawing attention,” Prudence said.
“Or without making a considerable mess in the process,” Jack said. “In a stabbing there is always a lot of blood, and it tends to stain everything in the vicinity.”
She gave him an approving look. “That is a very good observation, Mr.Wingate.”
“Thank you,” he said, aware that he was speaking through set teeth. “This is not my first murder investigation, Miss Ryland.”
“Please continue with this line of questioning,” she urged, apparently unaware of his attempt at sarcasm or Pell’s barely concealed amusement.
Best to forge ahead,Jack decided. It was either that or get into a verbal sparring match with the client. “Tell me about the wedding gown.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Did it fit?”
Prudence blinked, evidently surprised by the question. “No. It was a little too large in... certain places.” She gestured vaguely toward her bosom. “And it had been made for a woman who was somewhat taller than me.”
That would not take much,Jack thought. Prudence was a petite woman.
“Was the gown expensive?” he asked.
“For obvious reasons I did not spend a lot of time examining the dress, but yes, it was beautiful. At least it would have been if someone hadn’t splashed blood on it. There was a great deal of heavy satin in the skirts and a lot of delicate pearl work on the bodice. Itcertainly didn’t come from the sale rack at a department store. It was handmade.”
“I don’t suppose you thought to check for a label,” he said.