hard to believe. ‘Everett Runcie?’
‘The chambermaid found him.’
‘Has Philippa been told?’ It crossed my mind that Marcus must want me to break the bad news.
‘A detective inspector is on his way to speak to Mrs Runcie.’ He looked at his watch. ‘He’ll be with her round about now I should think.’
‘Poor woman. What a shock.’
Marcus nodded. ‘I don’t envy the inspector, having to break that kind of news.’
‘I don’t understand. Everett only lives a few miles away. Why was he staying here?’
‘The manager tells me that he stays here when he has female company. Someone was with him but has disappeared. Usually the pretence is that his lady friend has a separate room and is signed in under her own name, all very discreet.’
‘Caroline Windham?’
‘Yes. You know her?’
‘She was at the races. You will have noticed her, a well-made aristocratic-looking woman, nicknamed the Viking Queen. She’s been Runcie’s mistress for years, long before he met Philippa. I can’t see her running out on him.’
‘The hotel staff know Miss Windham. Last night Mr Runcie was here with a different woman, passing as his wife.’
My thoughts raced. A new mistress, or was this liaison to provide Philippa with grounds for divorce?
‘How did he die?’
Marcus took a deep breath. ‘He was murdered, strangled in his bed. The local police surgeon just gave me his report.’
‘That’s horrible.’
‘I think we can say he probably did not suffer. It would have been quick. He had been drinking heavily. My guess is that he was sound asleep. There was no sign of a struggle. Whoever killed him knew what they were doing.’
Marcus raised his hands to his throat and touched his thumbs to his shirt collar. ‘He or she put pressure on the carotid arteries, enough force to kill him and no more. The bruising was either side of the windpipe.’
The news shocked me, but what surprised me was Marcus’s frankness in giving me details of the death.
‘Poor Everett.’
‘The manager reported the death to the local CID and they knew I was here.’
‘You’re taking over the investigation?’
‘Yes. Leeds CID put in a call to the Yard. I’ve spoken to my boss. The paperwork is on its way. The local men are going over the scene now. Photographs, prints, inch by inch inspection. It’s a room on the second floor.’
At the races, I had resented the fact that Marcus did not confide in me. Now he was doing so, and I could think of nothing to say.
Marcus looked at me steadily, as if judging whether to say more. ‘I’m hoping you might help me. You’re friends with Mrs Runcie. You knew the pair of them, and perhaps their friends and associates. Do you have any thoughts, however wild, as to who may have done this?’
Now I understood why Marcus had given me details of the murder. He was asking me if I knew anyone who might be an enemy of Runcie, and a competent strangler.
My mind went blank. I felt slightly sick and was glad to have stuck to toast for breakfast.
I shook my head. ‘There must be people who hated him for losing them money, with his schemes. He sold shares in an abandoned mine, abandoned because it was worked out. I’m not sure whether it was intentional, or whether he was duped himself. But surely someone who wanted revenge, or was angry, would want to confront Everett Runcie, not kill the man while he slept.’
‘That would seem logical.’
‘So, not a crime of passion?’
‘Before I do any theorising, I have a lot of information to gather.’
‘But Marcus …’
‘What?’
‘You have a once-suspected murderer staying in the hotel, the New Yorker. Could there be some connection? Isn’t it too much of a coincidence that Hartigan chose this hotel? Perhaps there were American investors who lost money in one of Everett’s schemes.’
Marcus frowned. ‘How do you know Hartigan was suspected of murder?’
I felt my cheeks redden. ‘I didn’t ask anyone, someone at the racecourse saw him and told me, a friend who works on a newspaper. They get to know everything.’
Marcus nodded. ‘I’ve thought about Hartigan. He would not have known that Mr Runcie would stay here.’
‘But Everett Runcie stays here if he stays anywhere. You said so yourself.’
‘Because it is the best hotel. The same reason that Hartigan chose it.’
There was a tap and the door opened.
Marcus called to the person to wait.
I took that as my cue to leave and stood. ‘Is that it, Marcus? Sorry not to be more help, but if I think of anything I’ll