Andrea Frazer - Holmes and Garden 01 - The Curious Case of the Black Swan Song (11 page)

Chapter Twelve
Tuesday

Holmes could barely contain his embarrassment the previous evening, had gone to his room to eat there in solitary confinement, and had woken up on Tuesday morning, his mind split in two. One half cringed away from the thought that he had been completely taken in by John H., and had even found his female persona attractive. The other half roiled like the waves of an angry storm-tossed sea.

With such a versatile partner, it would be like working with two completely different people, so far as the outside world was concerned, and the possibilities of what they might be able to get away with were almost endless, although he couldn’t see as far as Garden actually attending a meeting of the Ladies’ Guild and getting away with it without being rumbled.

At breakfast the next morning, he could barely contain his discomfort as he watched what a small part of him considered the hermaphrodite Garden enter the room and approach the table, but Garden acted as if nothing untoward had happened and, not being a mind-reader, he had no idea about his partner’s delicate and unusual feelings towards the figure he had presented the previous evening.

He merely said, ‘I am rather good, aren’t I? I bet you thought I’d look like a drag queen in my female gear.’ Holmes gulped, and nodded silent agreement. ‘I think I do a convincingly good job though. I bet you couldn’t tell me from the real thing, and to be quite honest, I have had a pass made at me a few times, but I’d hate to give some poor unsuspecting man a heart attack, even in the name of innocent fun.’

Holmes swallowed noisily and nodded again. ‘Er, um, yes, very good indeed. Well done, old boy.’

‘Think how useful I could be going undercover in some of our future cases. Everyone will know you have a male partner, so I could be a real secret weapon.’

That made Holmes sit up straight in his rather uncomfortable chair. ‘What a thought! We’d be a really unique Holmesian duo, wouldn’t we? Holmes and the cross-dressing Garden. Watson was never so interesting.’ In the excitement of the possibilities of this side of his new partner, Holmes had completely forgotten his discomfiture at what had taken place the previous evening, and was looking forward to many occasions when he could send Garden into situations in which he himself would stand out like a sore thumb.

‘We’d have to keep me under wraps, as it were,’ replied John H., ‘but I don’t think I’d like to bruit abroad such a delicate flower in the confines of this small town,’ he replied. ‘To date I’ve usually done this in complete privacy. Apart from investigations, I think I’d like to come out gradually, and still keep my other self under wraps.’

‘Suits me down to the ground, John H. Secret weapons work much better when they are kept just that – secret.’

‘But you’d never be at a loss for a partner if we ever had to go to a function together.’ That gave Holmes pause for thought. ‘You could always describe me as one of your distant cousins. I mean, people must know, if they know about your inheritance, that you have far-flung relatives.’

That made Holmes feel much better. If he could describe the ‘woman’ on his arm as a distant cousin, it wouldn’t feel so damned weird, knowing it was not only a man, but his business partner. ‘I think you may be on to something there. You and your frocks and make-up might be the secret of our future success, as long as mum’s the word.’

‘As long as it’s not my mum, I don’t mind at all,’ said Garden, giving a rueful smile at this sideways reference to Mummy Dearest. ‘So, do we have a round-up of what we learnt yesterday after breakfast, then decide on the plan for today?’

‘Right on, Garden,’ agreed Holmes, being more right on than he realised.

‘And just where did you get the clothes and make-up for yesterday’s little stunt?’ the older man surprised himself by asking.

‘I sort of picked them up when we went round to my old address. My, but it felt good to put on my other skin and be somebody else again. Haven’t done that for a while.’

‘Well, please warn me when you’re going to be doing it again,’ requested Holmes, looking down ruefully at the splotch of egg yolk on his shirt front. He had never been a messy eater, but today was different, and his appetite had diminished with the mental state in which he found himself.

Garden was also similarly in a heightened mental state. He had been so slapdash taking off his make-up the night before that he had woken this morning with decidedly panda-like eyes, but Holmes didn’t notice anything amiss. He had a few points about which he was still curious, and now cleared his throat preparatory to enquiring.

‘Hrmph! There are a few things I’m quite curious about, but I shall understand perfectly if you’re a little chary of answering them,’ he began.

Garden gave him a wary glance, and told him to go ahead. He’d answer as best as he could.

‘Well, what do you do with your, um, er … your, ah, undercarriage?’ Holmes blushed furiously on the last word of this question, and cast his eyes down towards the tabletop, not wishing to look Garden in the eye in case he had caused him undue embarrassment.

‘That’s an easy one,’ Garden answered with ease. ‘Everything just tucks up inside, out of the way. There’s a sort of cavity. I first learnt about it when I saw an interview with the drag queen Danny la Rue, and I find it gives a much more realistic outline in trousers.’

‘Jolly good. Jolly good,’ replied Holmes, and cleared his throat loudly again. ‘And what about your, um, Adam’s apple? That’s very difficult to disguise, isn’t it? Nowhere to tuck that, eh?’

‘No, but I always wear a scarf round my neck. You probably didn’t notice last night, but I had one on then. Not only is it a stylish touch of colour, but it covers the offending article, so that no attention is brought to it.’

‘Ingenious, old chap. And the stubble? I didn’t see a hint of five o’clock shadow when I, er, saw you last night.’

‘A very close shave with a wet razor normally does the trick. But, mind, it has to be very close, but careful as well. I can’t go around wearing make-up with little cuts all over my face, now can I?’

‘Not at all. Well, how, er, fascinating. Thank you for sharing your little tricks with me.’

‘Not at all. If you ever fancy finding out what your feminine side looks like, just let me know, and we can do something with a loose shift and make-up bag, plus a suitable wig.’

‘Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass for now,’ Holmes replied, suddenly feeling slightly nauseous at the thought of being in full female rig, with warpaint and false hair to boot. There was no way on God’s earth that he was ever going to try that!

Garden had left his cigarettes upstairs and, as Holmes strolled outside for an after-breakfast pipe, he trailed off, once more in search of where they had put his room this morning. On his rather roundabout route, he once again came across the little boot cupboard, and could hear sounds of distress coming from inside.

Being a soft-hearted man, he knocked discreetly on the door and opened it a crack to peek in to see if he could be of any assistance. Inside was Pippa Berkeley, squatting on the mean wooden bench against one wall, cuddling the tiny body of Sinatra to her chest, and sobbing as if her world had come to an end.

‘Whatever’s the matter?’ he asked in soft tones. ‘Or it your grandfather?’ At the sound of his voice, she looked up at him with drowned eyes, and said, ‘It’s just everything. I can’t cope any more.’

Entering the room proper, Garden crouched down beside her, put an arm round her shoulder, and made to offer words of comfort, but not before Sinatra had made a successful attempt to nip him on the wrist. Ignoring this spiteful gesture, he patted Pippa on the back and said, ‘Come on, you can tell me. Once you pour it all out, things won’t seem half so bad, and I may be able to help in some way.’

‘I’m doing everything I can to make changes to this place and make it more of a success, but there are people staying here who were enemies of Granddad, and now they’re out to get
me
,’ she declared, somewhat melodramatically. ‘I have enemies in the hotel.’

‘Surely not. Who do you think means you any harm?’

‘There are a couple of guests who said that my family acquired certain portions of the hotel in a somewhat underhand manner, and that they’re going to law to sort the matter out. They say I can expect to lose parts of the business, and have it back in little bits that are unconnected.’

‘Really? How far does this go back?’ Garden asked, although he already knew the answer.’

‘Generations,’ she nearly spat. ‘How am I expected to cope with consequences of things that probably happened before Granddad was born? And there’s something else.’

‘What?’

‘There’s a bloke staying here who says that Granddad seduced his wife when they stayed here ages ago, and that they carried on an affair together which resulted in the end of his marriage. He really had it in for Granddad, and I’m scared that it’s him who murdered him.’ At this, tears began to trickle down her cheeks, and she gave a mighty sniff which seemed to express the unfairness of all this, on top of her responsibility for the whole business now.

‘I was supposed to go to college to study hospitality and, although I wasn’t very keen on the idea, and wanted to get more into the everyday running of things, being catapulted into total responsibility is very hard to cope with.’

‘I’m sure it is. Have you thought of hiring a temporary manager just until you get the hang of things?’ asked Garden hoping that this idea may be of some comfort and support to her.

‘No way, José!’ she snorted. ‘If I’ve got to run the whole shebang, then I do it on my own.’ The vehemence of her answer made him move away from her in alarm.

‘Have you sought any legal advice?’ asked her would-be comforter. ‘Do you know who your grandfather’s solicitor was?’

‘I never had reason to ask him, but I’m sure there must be some record of who dealt with all his legal work in the office.’ She was a little calmer now.

‘You go and look it out and give whoever it is a ring: tell them about the trouble you’re having. Then get on to the people who are threatening you with legal action, and get their solicitors to contact yours, and let them work on it together. There’s nothing you can do on your own – I mean, you don’t have a law degree, so it’s not worth wasting stress on until the experts have had a chew on the actual evidence, is there?’

‘No,’ she replied with a watery smile. ‘You’re right. I’ll go and look through his papers right away.’

‘The details should be somewhere with his will, if nowhere else,’ suggested Garden helpfully, ‘And, as for the guy whose marriage has broken up, I suggest you give his details to the police, so that they can investigate whether he was the one who killed your grandfather. They may know nothing about that rather personal beef with him.’

‘You’ve been very kind,’ she said, kissing Sinatra on the head and rising to her feet. ‘Thank you for your time and concern Mr, er …’

‘Garden. John Garden.’

‘John Garden, you are a very kind man,’ she stated without a trace of embarrassment, and leaned forward and hugged him, much to his discomfiture. Before he left, however, he did have the foresight to ask one more question. ‘Could you let me have the names of the three people who have been causing you distress, and I’ll see if there’s anything I can do.’

‘Of course. Mr Staywell is the one whose marriage broke up, Mr Carrington and Ms Harrison are the ones who want to dispute ownership. And just to put the tin lid on things, first thing this morning, I got a call from a local estate agent saying that one of his clients is staying here and would like to purchase the property. I feel like all the hounds of hell are after me at the moment.’

‘I’m sure you do. You certainly have a lot on your plate, but leave it to me and my partner.’ Here, Garden’s chest actually swelled a little with self-importance. ‘He and I have a private investigation bureau, and I can assure you that, as of now, we are on the case for you.’

‘Wow! Private detectives? How unusual. I can’t pay you much, though.’

‘I wasn’t looking for payment. Take it as a complimentary opening offer from our bureau.’

‘Fine words butter no parsnips’ never even entered his mind. ‘And the name of the person who wishes to purchase the hotel? This is just for investigative purposes, you understand?’

‘Josephine Hughes. But she can’t force me to sell to her if I don’t want to. If the others get their way, though, and get their hands on part of the hotel, then I suppose there would be nothing else I could do. I couldn’t afford to pay the other two off, whereas she might have enough to do just that.’

Holmes was hopelessly enchanted by the tale that Garden told of the encounter he had had with the hotel’s young owner on his daily search for his room, and beamed at Garden as if he had just won the lottery. ‘You know what that means, don’t you?’ he asked, somewhat enigmatically.

‘No idea, Holmes, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’

‘It means we have a whole new nest of suspects to look at, and with a fine variety of reasons for them to have turned murderer.’

‘Do we?’

‘But of course. Property disputes, like neighbourly disputes, bring out the worst in people, and Berkeley Bellamy was the first likely victim with such things. If two people say he doesn’t own all of this property, which we already knew but didn’t realise the significance of, it could be either one of them. Similarly, if someone wants to get hold of this as a business opportunity, the first move would be to destabilise the management somehow, and how better than to murder the owner? Then there’s our cuckolded husband. Now, there’s a motive for murder, if ever I saw one.’

‘But how do the other two deaths fit in, though?’

‘All in good time. If we can sort out who committed the initial murder, it may answer the question of why the other two had to go as well.’

‘If you say so,’ muttered Garden, with little conviction. ‘I’ll believe you, but thousands wouldn’t. But just before you go off on a tangent, what about all those suspects we painstakingly interviewed yesterday?’

‘What about them?’

‘Do you think they’re all innocent?’