‘It’s a slim box file.’ Fin opened it, and inside he found several neatly arranged folders. Kelly followed the SOCO, who removed a panel in the wall closest to the bed.
‘How did you know that was there?’
‘The owner.’
‘Tommy?’
The SOCO nodded. ‘Tommy told us that the room was booked specifically because of the legend of the place.’
‘Which is what?’
‘Skelwith Bridge is haunted by those who travelled by coach through it on the way to steal mining secrets for Queen Elizabeth the First, four hundred and fifty years ago. They bunked here for the night on their way back and their whole coach fell into the river, and they drowned.’
Kelly blinked and spread her hands. ‘Who knew? I suppose this story is on their website, luring unsuspecting tourists to pay for a tour and buy merchandise?’
‘Obviously,’ the SOCO chuckled.
‘So, what has that got to do with this room?’
‘Tommy told us that one of the mining experts got away but was tracked down by German mercenaries and shot with a pistol and buried in these walls. There you have the legend of Skelwith Bridge.’
‘So, this spy stayed in room 13?’ Kelly asked. Her voice dripped with scepticism. ‘Next you’ll tell me he consorted with witches too, who stayed in room 666.’
The SOCO shrugged. ‘Some people believe anything.’
‘OK, joking aside, Tommy told you Jamie Robbins knew about this legend when he booked?’
‘That’s what he said.’
‘And have you found anything in there?’
‘We did.’
It was said with triumph.
The forensic officer showed Kelly a bagged suitcase. It was almost identical to the one found in Jamie’s room, but she guessed this one wasn’t full of porn. Now she wondered whether the one in Jamie’s room was a decoy. If anyone went to Heron Hall looking for Jamie and his secrets, they’d find a bag full of porn instead of what they were really looking for.
‘Did you look inside?’
‘Yep. We haven’t had time to look closely. Loads of scientific papers and some letters that mean absolutely nothing to us but I’m pretty sure they’ll be valuable to you. Also, we reckon about five hundred thousand in twenty-pound notes. Oh, and some incredible artwork.’
‘Nice,’ Fin said.
‘Well done, good work. God, what a mess,’ Kelly said.
She looked around the spacious room and peered out of the window. In ordinary times, this room – except for it being haunted by a Tudor spy – would be a perfect getaway to relax surrounded by the beauty of the Lake District. Today it was a murder scene.
And they now had a potential motive.
Before she left, she went to find Tommy, who was sitting in the pretty garden at the rear of the hotel, staring across the river.
‘Hi, Tommy,’ she said gently.
He moved up and she sat next to him on the bench.
‘I hate being the bearer of bad news,’ she said.
‘Poor lass. It’s so sad.’
