Handsome Brute: The True Story of a Ladykiller (38 page)

The chambermaid, Alice Hemmingway, looked after half the rooms on the second floor of the Tollard Royal, including Room 81. Her daily duties were to clean the rooms, make the beds and to take guests their early-morning tea at 7 a.m. Just after this time on this Thursday morning, Mrs Hemmingway took a cup of tea to Brook’s room to find him still asleep with the bedclothes drawn right up to his nose. Mrs Hemmingway apologized for being late. Brook asked what the time was and Mrs Hemmingway told him it was about ten past seven. She opened the curtains and, remembering last night’s electrical storm, chatted about the weather before leaving the room.
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Frederick Wilkinson then returned to the room, taking in Brook’s three daily newspapers. He was still sleeping and the tea which Mrs Hemmingway had taken up earlier was untouched. Wilkinson warned Brook that his tea would get cold and offered him the newspapers.

‘Here’s your papers, sir.’

‘Ah! I done [tricked] you last night,’ Brook said.

‘How did you come in? Not by the front door.’
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He did not give an answer. But Wilkinson remembered the ladder just outside the bedroom window that was being used by the builders working on the roof. Given that he knew all the ground-floor windows and the front door had been locked, Wilkinson assumed that the only way Brook could have accessed his room was via the ladder. Added to this, a day or two before, Brook had teased Wilkinson, saying, ‘I will get in one night without you knowing.’ Clearly, this is what he had done. Whilst in the bedroom, Wilkinson noticed Brook’s shoes near the bed. Round them, about half to one inch up the side, was a ridge of sand. From this, Wilkinson surmised that Brook had not taken Miss Marshall straight back to the Norfolk Hotel the night before, but had diverted their walk along the beach.

At 10 a.m. Mrs Hemmingway knocked on Brook’s door but received no reply, so she entered the room to find him still in bed, and still well covered up. ‘Can’t drag yourself out this morning, sir?’ she asked. He asked her to bring him some coffee, which she obtained from the second head waiter in the still room. He wondered if Brook had a fat head as he had ordered a bottle of champagne for dinner the night before?
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Mrs Hemmingway took the coffee to Room 81. Later that morning, she knocked on the door again, keen to clean the room. Brook was in his dressing gown standing over the washstand, scrubbing his hands. He didn’t look round, nor did he say anything. She apologized for intruding and left the room. At about half past twelve, Mrs Hemmingway had just finished lunch and passed Brook on the landing near his room. He asked her if she could bring him a piece of brown paper. She got some used wrapping from the pantry and took it to him. When she did so she felt that ‘he was deliberately keeping his face away from [her]’.
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When Brook had finally vacated the room, Mrs Hemmingway went to clean it. In the fireplace was a fitted gas fire. The hearth had only recently been painted since the hotel had reopened in June. She then noticed a burn mark on the new paintwork. The mark was round and fairly large, about 10 or 12 inches across, but there was no debris or ash from whatever had been burnt. She was certain it had not been there the day before. She got some Vim to try and clean the mark off, but there was still a faint stain when she had finished. The mark wouldn’t scrub away.

Mrs Hemmingway then swept the hearth and turned back the carpet. Underneath the carpet she found some sand and dirt. She prided herself on her work and was sure it hadn’t been there yesterday. Somebody had swept the hearth without turning the carpet back, so the dirt had gone under it. She also noticed that the sink seemed grubbier than usual.

At about this time, Ellen Bayliss, a housekeeper at the Tollard Royal, found that one of the lavatories on the third floor was blocked with what she thought was a ball of paper. She tried to clear it by flushing, but was unable to get rid of it. She called the hotel carpenter, who dislodged the blockage with a plunger, but he felt that the obstruction was ‘something hard and clean’.
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The lavatory was on the floor above Brook, but the stairs leading up to it were directly opposite his room.

Having solved the problem, Mrs Bayliss was on her way downstairs when she saw Brook on the first floor close to the ladies’ lavatories. His appearance made a vivid impression on her; his hair was disturbed, his manner agitated and he looked, according to her rather melodramatic description, like a ‘hunted animal’.
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Though manhole covers were later raised and the lavatory cisterns inspected, nothing significant was later brought to light, but it seems clear that on Thursday morning, Brook was keen to dispose of something. This was confirmed by Major Phillips, who at some point that morning was going to the garage on West Hill Road. He saw Brook carrying a brown paper parcel about 12’ by 5’ by 3’, but didn’t speak to him.
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At the Norfolk Hotel that morning, the last breakfast had been served and the head waiter noticed that Miss Marshall from Room 94 had not come down for her usual 9 a.m. breakfast. He phoned her room but there was no reply. The housekeeper confirmed that her bed had not been slept in but all her things were still in her room. She also had £20 locked in the hotel safe.

At the Tollard Royal, Heinz Abisch and his wife had gone for a walk after breakfast to Sandbanks, returning to the hotel in time for lunch. They were chatting about their walk when Brook asked which route they had gone. Abisch told him that they had walked along the cliffs and then through Branksome Chine. Brook commented that he ‘didn’t know you could walk so far’.
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Later that day Major Phillips asked if Brook had got the taxi he ordered for him last night? Brook said that he had walked Miss Marshall home and then walked back to the hotel. On the way back he had been caught in a heavy rainstorm and had got very wet.

That evening, at about 7.15 p.m., Robert Cook from East London was sitting in the gardens in Bournemouth town centre in front of Bobby’s department store and the Lyons Tea Room. He was on holiday in Bournemouth with his wife and child. As he was sitting, a man approached him and asked if he would like to buy a new book of clothing coupons? When Cook refused, the man walked away, but after about 100 yards, he turned back, arousing Cook’s suspicions.

The man was tall, blond and handsome with very blue eyes.
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Soon after he started his 8 p.m. shift that evening, Arthur White, the head night porter of the Tollard Royal, ran into Group Captain Brook.

‘Do you know another way into the hotel?’ Brook asked.

‘Yes,’ said White. ‘But the way I know was locked. How did you get in last night?’

‘I got up the ladder and got into my room that way. I thought I’d pull your leg.’
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Brook then joined Mr Abisch, Mrs Parfitt and Major Phillips in the lounge after dinner. Brook reminisced about his experiences during the war. He talked of the time he was station commander on an airfield in Belgium when the Germans made their last big raid on 1 January 1945, damaging eighty-eight British aircraft. The talk then turned to politics, Abisch noting that Brook was very conservative in his opinions. Brook then spent the rest of the evening with another young woman in the lounge before retiring to bed. White had noticed that Group Captain Brook always went to bed very late, drinking and chatting into the small hours, but on this occasion he retired unusually early. On his way up the stairs, he stopped to speak to White.

‘Will you give my shoes an extra shine tonight?’

‘We always do, sir.’

‘Yes, I know, but I have been in sea-water in them.’

Brook left his shoes outside his door for cleaning. There was no longer a ridge of sand on them.
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Next morning, Friday 5 July, Brook went to H. J. Tuson’s, a pawnshop in central Bournemouth. He was keen to pawn a ladies’ three-stone diamond ring. The pledge was taken by the shop manager, Henry Burles. Brook gave his name as Mr Brook of Loxley Road, SW19.
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When Mr Burles asked for the street number of the house, Brook said that it didn’t matter as there were only two houses in the road. Burles gave Brook a loan of £5 in exchange for the ring.
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Around the same time that morning, Frank McInnes, the proprietor of the Norfolk Hotel, reported to the Bournemouth police that one of his guests, a Miss Doreen Marshall, had not been seen since the evening of 3 July. She had disappeared, leaving all her clothing and possessions, as well as some money in the hotel safe. Mr McInnes had been away for a short while so that he was not aware of Miss Marshall’s disappearance until that lunchtime. He rang Detective Constable Suter at Bournemouth Police Station. Suter then rang Doreen’s parents in Pinner informing them that their daughter was missing.

Later that day, Mrs Phillips had returned from the shops when she bumped into Brook at the hotel.

‘What have you been up to?’ Brook asked.

‘Well, I’ve been shopping a bit and then went into the bank.’

‘Funnily enough, I’ve been to the bank myself.’

And, indeed, Mrs Phillips had noticed that Brook paid for some drinks earlier that day with cash – £3 to £4 in notes – rather than putting them on his bill, as he usually did. It was then that Mrs Phillips commented on Brook’s new shirt.

‘Lovely new shirt, Captain Brook.’

‘No, no. This is an old shirt.’

‘But it looks perfectly new.’

‘I assure you it’s an old one.’

The new shirt stood out to Mrs Phillips, as on all other occasions Brook had worn a buff-coloured sports shirt.

‘And what about your friend, Miss Marshall? Did she arrive home safely on Wednesday night?’

Brook didn’t answer and Mrs Phillips didn’t press the point. She then commented on the unusual scarf Brook was wearing around his neck. She hadn’t seen him wear it before.

‘What a funny scarf. May I see it?’

Brook took the scarf off and showed it to her – a thin silk square with a map printed on it – the ‘escape scarf ’. It was then that Mrs Phillips noticed that Brook had something on his neck, just below his right ear – three scratches: one long scratch and a couple of smaller ones. She made no comment.
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On Friday evening the manager of the Tollard Royal, Ivor Relf, took a telephone call from Mr McInnes, the manager of the Norfolk Hotel. McInnes explained that he believed that a lady – who had subsequently gone missing – had dined at the Tollard Royal on the previous Wednesday night. Relf told him he’d make enquiries and would ring him back. He consulted the head waiter’s meal book and noticed that there had been two ‘chance’ diners that evening for dinner, but at this point he didn’t connect Group Captain Brook’s guest with the missing lady from the Norfolk Hotel. Brook had introduced Doreen to Relf as an old friend and hadn’t mentioned where she was staying.

Late that evening, Doreen’s father telephoned the Tollard Royal himself. Doreen had been missing since Wednesday when she had gone to dinner at the Tollard Royal. She had not phoned home, nor had she left any messages, so her family were extremely concerned. It just wasn’t like her. Relf promised to investigate further. It’s only then that he thought of Captain Brook’s young guest in the fleecy yellow coat. He resolved to talk to Brook about the missing girl the next time he saw him.

The next day was Saturday and Relf saw Brook standing by himself in the dining room drinking coffee. Relf asked him if the guest he had entertained on Wednesday night was from Pinner and if she had been staying at the Norfolk Hotel? Brook replied, jocularly, ‘Oh no, I have known that lady for a long while, and she certainly does not come from Pinner.’
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Relf suggested that Brook should contact the Bournemouth police as the matter had become very serious. He had had a phone call from the manager at the Norfolk Hotel, and from the young lady’s father who was terribly worried.

At 11.15 a.m. Detective Sergeant Stanley Pack was on duty when he had a call at Bournemouth Police Station from Bob Brook.

‘I am speaking from the Tollard Royal Hotel. I understand a young lady is missing from the Norfolk Hotel. Can I speak to the officer in charge of the case?’
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Pack told him he’d need to speak to DC Suter who was not available at that moment but asked if he could take a message. Brook said, ‘No it doesn’t matter. I have a little information which may be of assistance. If you can tell me when the officer will be in, I will ring again.’
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At about 3 p.m., Brook joined Mrs Phillips and some acquaintances down at the beach. About a quarter of an hour later, he said he had to make a telephone call. He walked away in the direction of Poole. Half an hour later, DC Suter answered the telephone and spoke to Brook, who explained he was a guest at the Tollard Royal Hotel. Brook understood that Suter had been making enquiries about a young lady who had come to dinner at the Tollard Royal and said he might be able to help. Brook said that he was currently at Alum Chine enjoying the sun and wondered if Suter would like to join him? Suter declined and suggested that Brook come to the station at 5.30 p.m. that evening.

At around 4 p.m. Brook called into Freed’s, a second-hand jewellers in the Triangle at the heart of the town. He wondered if they bought watches as he had one to sell. Brook showed Harry Berkoff, the manager, a lady’s glass and metal fob watch. It was a quality piece – a Swiss movement with fifteen jewels. Brook wanted £5 for it, but Berkoff thought that was too expensive. He offered Brook £2. 20s. Clearly keen to sell it, Brook said, ‘If you could make it a little bit more you can have it.’ Berkoff eventually bought the watch for £3.
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Brook returned to the party on the beach, having been away from them for about an hour. Brook then went with Mrs Phillips’ party back to the Tollard Royal for tea. After tea, he left the hotel, heading for the police station on Madeira Road. He was dressed as usual in his sports jacket and was wearing his RAF sunglasses. This would be his last walk as a free man.

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