The Lipstick Killers

said, quizzically.
    ‘Yes. A group of gentlemen who had a business meeting here recently.’
    The blonde punched something into her computer,’ and said. ‘Oh, that would be the Haywood party. Regulars. Yes, they had a private room. Dinner for five.’
    Gotcha, thought Margaret. It must be them. ‘That’s right. They were very complimentary of the food.’
    ‘The chef will be pleased,’ said the blonde. ‘He came from The Savoy, you know.’
    ‘Well that’s it,’ said Roxie. ‘Sounds just right for my friends.’
    ‘How many would there be?’ asked the receptionist, smiling.
    ‘Six or seven,’ said Margaret. ‘And of course we’ll need rooms.’
    ‘Excellent.’
    ‘Could we see the private room?’ said Margaret.
    ‘I’m afraid the manager’s not available at the moment, and I’m all on my own. If you could just wait for a few minutes…’
    ‘Just for a second,’ said Margaret. ‘We’re in a bit of a rush. Work, you know. We’ve got to get back to the city before the traffic hits.’
    The blonde looked perplexed. ‘Please,’ said Roxie in a wheedling tone. ‘It’s so important to find the right ambience .’
    ‘OK,’ said the blonde. ‘I’ll have to be quick though.’
    ‘Thank you,’ said Roxie.
    The blonde came out from behind her desk. ‘It’s upstairs,’ she said, pointing at an imposing staircase. ‘Then just down the corridor. There’s a spectacular view of the river. It’s all lit up at night, looks beautiful.’
    ‘Lovely,’ said Roxie, all smiles, warming to her role.
    ‘Can I just use the loo?’ said Margaret.
    ‘Of course. There’s one through there in the bar,’ said the blonde indicating a door in the corner.
    ‘I’ll catch you up,’ said Margaret.
    ‘Top of the stairs, turn left, third on the right,’ said the blonde, and headed for the staircase, Roxie in tow.
    Margaret went to the door of the bar, opened it, and stood behind it for a moment whilst she waited for them to disappear. As soon as the coast was clear she headed back to the desk, spun the computer screen round and saw the booking for Haywood. No address, just a phone number. It wasn’t a mobile number, so not the one on the card, and the notation ‘paying by cash’.
    She pulled a pen from her pocket and added the number to the one on the card, then swung the computer back and made her way up the stairs to the room where she was sure Monty had had his last meal.
    After a brief look round, with Roxie showing the appropriate enthusiasm for the room, they returned to the foyer where Josie gave them menus and room prices – and Margaret gave her a false phone number. They left the building and went back to the car. ‘What do you reckon?’ asked Roxie.
    ‘That must be it,’ said Margaret. ‘I got a number for Haywood, whoever he is. It’s a London number.’
    ‘Can you trace it?’
    ‘I’ve still got some friends,’ said Margaret. ‘No problem. Let’s go back, and I’ll make some calls.’

25
     
     
     
    On the way back the two sisters stopped off for lunch in an Italian restaurant in Guildford. Roxie wanted to tell Margaret everything that she’d left behind in Spain but still wasn’t sure how her sister would take it. She was a copper, after all. So instead, she asked. ‘So what’s the plan?’ when they were seated at a quiet table by the window, a bottle of red wine between them.
    ‘Like I said,’ said Margaret. ‘I’ve still got some friends. One in particular. He’s an IT wizard.’
    ‘Good looking?’
    ‘Don’t you ever think of anything else? No. He’s like that scientist in The Simpsons – you know, the one with the stutter and Coke bottle glasses – and has unfortunate hygienic habits. Still after getting into my pants though.’
    ‘Lucky you.’
    ‘I’m going to get him to trace these two numbers for me.’
    ‘Will he do it?’
    ‘If I’m nice to him. Trouble is, Mahoney’s got Monty’s BlackBerry. Christ knows what numbers are in it.’
    ‘Did you have to give it to him?’
    ‘I had no choice.’
    ‘You didn’t have a chance to check it out?’
    ‘Didn’t think it would matter. It was an accident, or so we thought. Then there’s his office computer. They’re bound to impound that, if there’s any suspicion that Monty was murdered.’
    ‘Do you think there is?’ Roxie drew a sharp breath at the mention of murder.
    ‘According to Mahoney. We’ll find out for sure at the inquest tomorrow. Open verdict I reckon.’
    ‘What