Page 17 of The Dead Come to Stay
“Wedohave a website, as all businesses must these days. But we still do our booking by phone—and occasionally, email.” He gave a presuming little smile. “Our guests prefer thepersonaltouch.”
Didn’t they just, MacAdams thought. The good and the great, meaning the rich and the richer, of course expected such treatment. A place like Abington Arms handpicked its guests almost more than the guests picked the rooms. Of course, he reminded himself, he shouldn’t make assumptions.
“And who takes these calls?”
“The phone is answered by the host on duty.” Evans said, smoothing his sideburns. “Someone is always on duty; names and notes are recorded here.” He jogged the computer mouse to wake up the screen and brought up a spreadsheet. “Emails go to a general inbox that all hosts can access.”
“Good.” MacAdams flipped open his notebook. “I need to see if you received an email or call from one Ronan Foley on Friday. Part of a murder investigation.”
Evans suddenly looked like he might fall through the floor.
“Youcan’tmean the gentleman found dead at the festival?”
“He wasn’t found at the festival,” MacAdams corrected. “And he wasn’t a guest here, as far as we know.”
“Oh thankGod—”
“But,”Green interrupted, wisely keeping up the tension, “he could have been. He apparently tried to get rooms around town; the Red Lion was full. We want to know if he called here, when and why.” Her delivery was perfect, given that this was MacAdams’s hunch they were following up. Evans pursed his lips and called up the records on his computer. He wasn’t enjoying any part of this, but neither did he want them to say the wordmurderagain.
“Three email requests on Friday, all accounted for, but none from that name,” Evans said, inviting them to view the subjects over his shoulder.
“And phone records?” MacAdams asked. Evans toggled back to the spreadsheet and scrolled to Friday.
“Eleven outside calls,” Evans said. “Ireallydon’t like sharing details, Detective, our guests have a right to privacy—”
MacAdams ignored this milk-and-water protest and took over the mouse. The first ten calls had been received before five in the afternoon. The eleventh at five thirty. Name: Ronan Foley.
“Got him,” MacAdams said. “I don’t see his number registered, though. Green—call up Andrews and have him request records for Abington Arms.”
“Detective!” Evans protested. MacAdams turned around swiftly, taking him enough by surprise that the man took a step back.
“Who took the calls after five on Friday?” he asked. “You or someone else?”
“Ms. Templeton,” Evans stuttered. “She took the late shift due to a call-off.”
“Templeton,” Green repeated with a head tilt.
“Yes. She’s overseeing the Sunday brunch, just now—”
MacAdams didn’t wait for more. He walked directly through to the dining room, where several dining couples in luxurious Sunday best raised curious heads. Evans had chased after, but MacAdams had already spotted a likely candidate. Tall, ropy-limbed and wearing another management-level green suit. She turned as they approached, and he watched her expression take three leaps: confusion, professionalism—recognition.
“If it isn’t Sheila Green,” she said, shaking her sleek ponytail over one shoulder.
Green returned a laconic smile. “Hello, Arianna. We have a few questions about a call you received here Friday night.”
The woman cast a glance at Evans, but she remained unperturbed, and invited them to sit with her at an empty table.
“Tea? Or perhaps coffee?” she asked, as if they had been ushered into her own very grand living room.
“Two coffees. With cream,” MacAdams said, and enjoyed watching a rankled Evans dart off to fetch it. With him gone, Arianna’s smile iced over slightly.
“What can I do for you, Sheila?”
“DS Green,” Green corrected, coolly composed. This was apparently her act and scene, so MacAdams gave her the lead. While he and Green knew most details of each others’ pasts and histories, Arianna was a new name, and was curious to read their dynamic. “Friday night, you took a shift as host, is that right?”
“Yes. We were busy helping our guests—twenty arriving almost at once. You know we’re a premier venue; weddings, events. Our clients expect the best.” She said this with evident pleasure. MacAdams steered her back to the questions at hand.
“And five thirty, you took a call from a man named Ronan Foley.”
