“I told you that Mabel was up to no good.” Gertie pointed to the clock on the kitchen mantelpiece. “I had a feeling when I got up this morning that something was going to go wrong. It’s seven o’clock and she’s still not here.”
Mrs. Chubb sighed. “That’s all we need. The busiest days of the Christmas season and we’re short a maid. Well, you and Pansy will just have to work a bit harder, that’s all.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ll go and tell madam that Mabel’s not here.”
“Well, now you can’t ask her what she was doing in Lady Roslyn’s room.” Gertie slapped a handful of polished forks onto the tray in front of her. “So we still don’t know for sure if she took the jewels or not.”
“You just can’t trust anyone these days, and that’s a fact. You’d better get upstairs and help Pansy with the serving.” Still grumbling to herself, Mrs. Chubb swung open the door and left.
Standing with Pansy at the dumbwaiter a few minutes later, Gertie waited for the load of dishes to arrive, her mind more on the coming evening than on the food waiting to be served. The day stretched before her like an endless ocean, hours to go before she had any hope of seeing Dan. He’d promised to come to the carol singing, and after that, she was supposed to help him distribute the toys to the orphanage.
She had no way of knowing if he would turn up, or if he would want her to help him with the toys. In fact, she didn’t even know if she would see him again, after the way he left her last night.
A sharp nudge in her side made her jump. Pansy was staring at her, her head to one side.
“What?” Gertie swiped a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Did I grow another nose or something?”
Pansy grinned. “I was just wondering what you were thinking. That Sid Barrett walked right past you and you never even blinked an eye.”
“Don’t talk to me about Sid Barrett.” Gertie leaned into the waiter and peered down the shaft. At the bottom someone was loading dishes, and she pulled back. “He’s a shifty one. Up to no good, if you ask me.”
“Go on.” Pansy laughed. “He’s all right. I’ve been thinking about going out with him. He was really nice to me this morning and asked me to go out with him, so I just might do that.”
Gertie gave her a dark look. “If I were you, Pansy Wat son, I’d stay far away from him. There’s something nasty about him, you mark my words.”
Pansy shrugged. “You’re just jealous, that’s all.”
Gertie’s derisive laugh echoed down the hallway. “Jealous? Of that smarmy snake? I wouldn’t trust him farther than my little finger. He’s always snooping around, listening to what everyone is saying. Remember when he was listening to us in the dining room? We didn’t even know he was there.”
Pansy frowned. “Yeah, I do remember. You know, I always thought that was really strange.”
Gertie looked at her. “What was strange?”
“Well, you know, how Sid knew Ian’s last name. When we were standing there talking about Ian dying and everything, we never said his last name. But then Sid came in and called him Ian Rossiter, like he already knew him.”
Gertie stared at her a moment longer. Just then a loud rattle stole her attention and she turned to see the dishes sitting in the dumbwaiter. “Well, we’d better get a move on and get this food served up before it gets cold.”
She grabbed a tray and headed for the dining room. She didn’t want to think about Ian or Sid Barrett. She didn’t even want to think about Dan, because when she did she got an awful ache in her stomach just thinking about what she’d do if he didn’t turn up for the carol singing.
Cecily had risen early that morning, eager to get the day started. The first order of business was to talk to Gloria, and the best way to catch the woman was to wait for her in the hallway outside the dining room.
Baxter was a little put out when Cecily informed him she would meet him at the breakfast table, instead of going down together as they usually did, but when she explained why, he reluctantly agreed.
She was halfway down the stairs when she met Mrs. Chubb panting and puffing on her way up them. The housekeeper looked agitated, and Cecily felt a pang of apprehension, sensing more trouble.
“It’s Mabel,” Mrs. Chubb said, gasping for breath. “She didn’t come in this morning. What’s more, we think she’s the jewel thief.”
Cecily grasped the handrail a little tighter. “Mabel? That’s ridiculous.”
“Well…” Mrs. Chubb paused, her hand on her chest while she fought to steady her breathing. “Gertie saw Mabel up on the landing. She was coming out of Lady Roslyn’s room. She told Gertie I sent her up there to change the pillows, but I never did. So what was she doing in there, that’s what I’d like to know? She had to be the one that took the jewels. She must have known we were on to her and that’s why she didn’t come in this morning.”
“Oh, dear.” Cecily glanced down the stairs, relieved to see they were quite alone. “I’m sorry, Altheda. Manage as best you can without her and in the meantime I’ll do my best to find her and bring her back here.”
“Yes, m’m.” The housekeeper clicked her tongue. “She seemed such a quiet little thing. Who would have thought she was a thief.” She turned and clambered back down the stairs, while Cecily followed more slowly.
She had to agree, Mabel certainly didn’t fit her idea of a jewel thief. She was a sad little thing, not too bright and certainly not very industrious. Not at all the kind of person one would think of as a criminal. Cecily shook her head. How could she have been so gullible? She should have better judgement when hiring her staff.
Stationed outside the dining room at the first clang of the breakfast bell, Cecily tried to shake off her melancholy as she greeted each guest as they arrived.
Gloria was one of the last to appear, and she didn’t look at all happy, which was not really surprising considering she had just lost her husband.
Cecily stepped in front of her as she reached the door and gently took her arm. “I won’t keep you more than a minute or two,” she murmured, as she led the surprised woman away from the dining room. “I would like to have a word with you in my office.”
Gloria offered no resistence, but meekly allowed herself to be ushered into Cecily’s office and onto a chair.
“Now,” Cecily said, as she sat down opposite her, “I want to talk to you about the last time you saw your husband.”
Gloria’s expression grew wary. “What about it? I told you all I know.”
“I don’t think you have.” Cecily leaned forward, fastening her gaze on the other woman’s face. “You told me you went to bed after Ian left the house that night, and that you never saw him again.”
Gloria started fidgeting on her chair, but didn’t answer.
Cecily tried again. “According to Bernard McPherson, the owner of the George and Dragon, you went to the public house to find your husband, isn’t that so?”
Gloria stared down at her feet and mumbled, “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I dunno.”
Cecily sighed. “One more thing, how did you know Ian was fighting and received a black eye if you didn’t see him again?”
Gloria jutted her lower lip. “Someone told me.”
“I don’t think so, Gloria. I think you saw Ian later that night, after the fight.”
Gloria shrugged, but remained silent.
Cecily softened her tone. “I want to help you, but you need to tell me everything. What really happened that night?”
Tears squeezed out of Gloria’s eyes and drifted down her cheeks. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t been so horrible to him he might have come home with me and then he would still be alive.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Gloria lifted her chin, misery dulling her eyes. “When they told me Robert had left the pub, I guessed he’d come here. He wanted to see his children and Gertie wouldn’t let him. So when I heard that he’d been fighting I knew he was in a really bad mood and that he’d probably try to bully Gertie into letting him see the twins.”
“Well, you were right about that.” Cecily leaned back on her chair. “Ian did come here to see Gertie.”
A fierce light glowed in Gloria’s eyes for a moment. “I know. I came here to find him. I came in the back way and I heard him arguing with Gertie. Then I saw her lock him in the coal shed. I waited until she was gone then I went to let him out. She’d taken the key with her, so I had to open a window and Ian climbed out.”
“Ah, so it was you who helped him get out.”
Gloria nodded. “He was spitting mad. So was I. I told him I knew he was trying to get back with Gertie, even though deep down I knew he only wanted his children. We had a terrible argument, and I kept asking him to come home with me, but he wouldn’t. He said he was going to see the twins and nobody was going to stop him.”
She shuddered, and fell silent.
“And that was the last time you saw him?”
After a moment Gloria spoke again, her voice thick with pain. “He stormed off toward the door, and I went the other way, to go home, without him. I never saw him again.”
Cecily waited a moment or two for her to regain her composure. “Why didn’t you tell me all this in the very beginning?”
“I thought I might get blamed for killing him.” Gloria rubbed her upper arms, as if she were cold. “We were arguing, really loudly. I didn’t know if someone might have heard us, and everyone would think I was the one that hit him.”
“I see.” Cecily clasped her hands in front of her. “Did you see anyone else in the yard that night?”
“No, m’m. Only Gertie and Ian.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me? Something you might have forgotten? Something that Ian said that might help us figure out who killed him?”
Gloria lifted her shoulders and let them drop. “Nothing. I wish I did know something, but I don’t.”
“Very well.” Cecily got to her feet. “Thank you, Gloria, for telling me the truth.”
“Yes, m’m. I should have done it before, I know, but I was scared I’d be blamed.”
“That’s all right. It’s understandable, under the circumstances.” Cecily moved to the door and opened it. “But I hope you know that if you are in trouble, or need to talk to someone, you can always come to me. I’m very good at keeping confidences.”
A thin smile washed across the other woman’s face. “Thank you, m’m. You’re very kind. I’ll remember that in future.”
Cecily gave her a few minutes to reach the dining room before following her. Going over their conversation, and what she knew so far, she could now piece together the events of that night.
Ian had come to the kitchen door demanding to see the twins. Gertie had refused. Clive had arrived on the scene and removed Ian, who had then gone down the pub. Dan had come to see Gertie a little later, learned of the quarrel, and gone down the pub to have it out with Ian.
After they’d fought, Ian had returned to the Pennyfoot, followed by Gloria. Ian had met Gertie by the coal shed and she’d locked him in. Gloria had then let him out, quarreled with him, and gone home without him. Gertie had given Clive the key, but by the time Clive got to the coal shed, Ian had gone.
Where? Who had really been the last one to see Ian alive? Ian must have met up with someone else after Gloria had left. Was it Dan, come back to finish the fight? Had Clive lied about Ian being gone when he got back to the coal shed? Or was Gloria not telling the truth when she said she’d left Ian alive and well?
Cecily sighed. Her head ached with the questions, theories, and possible scenarios. All these people involved with that night, all of them with a motive. This had to be the most puzzling murder she’d ever come across.
“Mrs. B.!”
Snatched out of her thoughts, Cecily came to an abrupt halt. Archie Parker stood before her, his nose quivering. “Yes, Mr. Parker. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I’d like a quick word with you, if I may?” Archie looked over his shoulder. “I won’t keep you a minute.”
Cecily looked longingly at the dining room door, so close and yet so far. By now Baxter would be seated and impatiently waiting for her. “Very well, Mr. Parker, but it will have to be just a minute or two. I have an urgent appointment.”
“Yes, yes. I swear I won’t take long.” He looked down the empty corridor and beckoned to her. “Perhaps if we move down here no one will hear us.”
Immediately on guard, Cecily reluctantly followed him down the hallway.
Archie paused in front of the broom closet, and gave her a toothy smile. “I was just wondering… ah… how many extra people did you hire for the Christmas season?”
Cecily straightened her back. “What concern is that of yours, may I ask?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.” Archie’s face once again took on that strange transformation. “Just answer the question, please.”
Taken aback, Cecily glared at him. “I must say, I do not appreciate your tone, Mr. Parker. In fact, if anyone should be asking questions, I should be the one asking you.”
Archie drew himself up and squared his shoulders. His entire personality seemed to change from a nervous little weakling to a decisive and somewhat intimidating superior. “Ask ahead, Mrs. B. I’ll be happy to answer.”
Nervous now, she fought to keep her voice calm and unemotional. “What exactly is your interest in my staff?”
Archie glanced once more down the hallway, then lowered his voice. “I must ask you to promise that anything I say to you will not be repeated. To anyone. Is that clear?”
Cecily hesitated, reluctant to make a promise she knew she couldn’t keep.
“It is the only way you will get answers to your questions, and what I have to say may benefit us both.”
That was just too promising to ignore. “I’ll do my best to keep whatever you say to myself.”
For a moment Archie’s keen gaze raked her face, then he nodded. “Very well. I’m not a salesman. I have no knowledge of medical remedies whatsoever.”
Deflated, Cecily frowned. “I knew that already.”
“Yes, but you don’t know what I really am.” He looked both ways, leaned toward her and muttered, “I’m a private investigator.”
Cecily felt her jaw slacken. “A what?”
“Private investigator. Somewhat like yourself, I suspect, only I do it for a living.”
“Oh, my.” Cecily stepped back and leaned against the wall. “I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t. I’m good at my job.”
“Are you investigating Mr. Rossiter’s murder? I thought that was a matter for the constabulary.”
“Well, I have a certain vested interest in the case.” Archie patted his vest pocket, then pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Extracting one, he stuck it between his lips and went on talking. “Actually I’d been keeping an eye on Rossiter for some time in London. I knew he was fencing stolen goods, you see.”
Cecily uttered a shocked gasp. “Ian? Are you quite certain?”
“Oh, yes.” Archie pulled out a box of matches from his trousers pocket and opened it. Taking one out, he struck it and held the flame to his cigarette. “About a month ago, a robbery took place at a distinguished client’s mansion. I’m not at liberty to divulge the name of the client, but I can tell you he is a prominent citizen of London.”
Cecily, still grappling with the idea of Ian being a professional criminal, waited for him to go on.
Archie puffed on his cigarette, then waved the match in the air until the flame went out. “There had been a string of robberies in the vicinity, and the police hadn’t had any luck finding the culprits, so this client hired me to find the thieves and return his jewels if possible.”
“I see,” Cecily said faintly. “And you think Ian was part of the gang?”
“Not sure about that part. He might have been working independently as a fence.” Archie looked around for somewhere to deposit the spent match. “In any case, when I heard from one of my sources that Rossiter had attempted to fence a large haul of jewelry, I suspected he might be connected to the thieves. So I made the acquaintance of Mrs. Gloria Johnson, as a salesman of medicinal remedies. Luckily for me, she suffers from headaches, and I was able to convince her that my special elixir would cure them.” He smiled, preening a little. “It’s amazing what the power of the mind can do to heal ailments.”
Cecily thought of Madeline, then dismissed the thought. There was a world of difference between Madeline’s special powers and this imposter’s fake cures.
“Anyway,” Archie said, still waving the burned out match in the air, “Mrs. Johnson and I became familiar enough that she let slip a few things. Such as the fact that they were moving down here to Badgers End, and that her husband used to work at the Pennyfoot when it was a hotel.”
Spotting a large potted aspidistra, he walked over, dropped the match into the pot, and sauntered back to Cecily. “Now where was I? Ah yes. Well, according to my source, the stolen jewels that Rossiter had tried to fence were too hot to get rid of safely, so he was advised to hang on to them until things cooled down. When his wife told me they were moving, I guessed he’d decided to keep the jewels for himself, and was leaving town so that the gang couldn’t find him and get them back.”
Cecily grasped her throat. “Ian was running away from a gang of criminals?”
“That’s what I believe.” He winked at Cecily. “What better place to sell off really valuable jewelry than to the guests of the Pennyfoot Country Club? It has quite a remarkable reputation in London, you know.”
“Yes,” Cecily said, her voice still faint with shock. “I had heard.”
“Yes, well, it’s well known that many aristocrats enjoy a visit to the country club, and I believe that Rossiter decided there would be opportunities for him to get rid of the jewels. Besides, it was a good place to hide.”
“But he was working in the butcher’s shop and living in the flat above. Why would he do that if he had all that money?”
“Ah.” Archie nodded. “It’s my belief that he left London with nothing but the jewels. That way it would take longer for the thieves to realize he was gone. He had to live somewhere until he could sell the loot, so he took the job at the butcher’s to tide him over.”
Cecily passed a hand over her forehead. “I’m still having trouble believing all this. Did Gloria know her husband was involved in all this criminal activity?”
“I don’t believe so.” Archie frowned. “Hard to tell. Anyway, it’s my belief that the gang found out where he was, and sent someone to get their goods back.”
“Do you think this someone killed him?”
“It’s possible, I suppose, which is why I’d like to know who did it. It could lead me back to the gang. My main concern is finding the jewels and getting them back.”
“Ian could have hidden them. I doubt he carried them around with him all the time.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Archie puffed on his cigarette. “I searched his flat, of course. Nothing there.” He gave her a sly look. “I don’t suppose you have any ideas where they might be?”
“None at all.” She hesitated. “I can tell you that someone here in the Pennyfoot is stealing jewelry. One of my guests reported some missing, as well as one of my staff.”
Archie frowned. “Interesting. Any ideas who it might be?”
A vision of Mabel’s sad face popped into Cecily’s mind. “I’m afraid not. We have only just found out about it.”
“So the robberies happened after Rossiter was killed?”
“Yes, we believe so.”
“Hmm.” Archie puffed smoke into the air. “In that case, I’d say our thief hasn’t found Rossiter’s jewels yet, and is still here, looking for them.”
“Oh, dear. I should probably warn the guests.”
“I wouldn’t do that, Mrs. B. Give him a free hand, that’s what I say. We’re more likely to catch him in the act.”
Cecily wasn’t at all comfortable with that idea. She could only hope the detective knew what he was doing.
“In the meantime,” Archie said, “I’ll have to see what Mrs. Johnson can tell me. She still thinks I’m a salesman. I told her I decided to try the Pennyfoot after she told me about it, but I think she’s suspicious of me anyway.”
“Well, I certainly hope you find the jewels soon, and the thief.”
“So do I, Mrs. B. So do I.” He turned to leave, then paused, looking back at her. “Have you considered the possibility that your chief housemaid might have killed Rossiter? I heard her threatening him the night he died. As I told the constable, anyone making threats like that was capable of carrying them out. She’s a strong lady, I don’t doubt she could have killed him. I told the constable that, too.”
Cecily stared at him. “So you were the one who told P.C. Northcott about Gertie’s threats.”
Archie nodded. “I certainly did. I let him in on what I was doing here, just in case there were any repercussions later. It’s always best to come clean with the law.”
“How did you happen to hear Gertie threaten Ian?”
Archie laid a finger against his nose. “I was out in the yard, wasn’t I. Watching Rossiter. I thought he might be trying to unload the loot, but he was picking a fight with the housemaid.”
“I see. So you overheard them inside the kitchen shouting at each other.”
“Loud and clear. Got a voice on her, that woman.” Archie took the cigarette out of his mouth and stuck it behind his ear. “Got to run, Mrs. B. Glad we had this little chat, and remember, not a word to anyone.”
Still bemused by the unexpected revelation, she watched him stride down the hallway until he reached the end, where he once more adopted the slouch that hid his true bearing.
She had to admit, she was more than a little intrigued. Not that she particularly liked him any better, but Archie Parker was so much more than she’d realized, and she would have liked to talk with him about his experiences. Perhaps later, when all this upheaval was over and the dust had settled.
In the meantime, she had to decide what to do about the jewel thief. The temptation to warn all of her guests was strong, but she understood that Archie would have a better chance of catching the thief red-handed if he had no idea he was under suspicion.
That’s if it was a man. She couldn’t ignore Mrs. Chubb’s suspicions about Mabel. The girl had been seen coming out of Lady Roslyn’s room with no good reason for being there.
She should have mentioned it to Archie Parker, but she didn’t want to make trouble for the girl without at least talking to her and getting her story.
Right after breakfast, she promised herself. She had Mabel’s address in her files, she would pay the girl a visit and find out exactly what was going on.
“Cecily! Where the devil have you been?”
Hearing her husband’s voice, Cecily felt a stab of guilt. Baxter was striding toward her, his eyes sparkling with temper. “I’ve been waiting for over half an hour for you. I’m about to faint from starvation.”
“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.” She linked her arm in his and drew him back toward the dining room. “I’ve been delayed by a small problem with one of our guests, but it’s all taken care of now.”
He gave her a suspicious look. “Not anything to do with this murder business, I hope?”
“Of course not, darling.” She smiled up at him and walked with him into the dining room, where the aroma of bacon and sausage tempted her appetite.
It would be really nice, she thought wistfully, if all these problems were cleared up before the evening. Tonight the carol singing ceremony would be held in the library. It was her favorite part of the Christmas celebrations and it would be so much nicer if Ian’s killer was apprehended and Archie Parker departed with his recovered jewels. Nevertheless, no matter what happened, she told herself, she would not allow anything to spoil her enjoyment of the ceremony. As for right now, she would put aside all her worries and enjoy a nice breakfast with her husband.
“I’m going into Wellercombe for an hour or two,” Baxter announced, as he walked with Cecily down the hallway to the lobby. “I still have some Christmas shopping to do.”
Cecily felt a stab of relief. She could visit Mabel while her husband was gone. It would save a great deal of explanation. “Just like a man,” she said lightly, “leaving everything until the last minute.”
Baxter leaned over and pecked her cheek. “I don’t get in the mood for shopping until the last minute. It’s not one of my favorite pastimes.”
“I know. Which makes it all the more special.” She glanced at the clock. “I have plenty to do to keep me busy while you are gone.”
“I’m sure you do. Don’t wear yourself out.” He strode off toward the door, and she watched him leave, thinking how fortunate she was to have married such a thoughtful, generous man.
Turning toward the stairs, she was unsettled to see Sid Barrett hovering close by. She hurried over to him, wondering if he was lying in wait to pounce on yet another of the maids.
Sid seemed uneasy as she approached, and looked as if he might leave. She called out to him before he could do so. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in the stables, helping Samuel groom the horses?”
“I needed to have a word with someone first, m’m.”
“A word with whom? One of our guests?”
“No, m’m. It doesn’t matter. I can take care of it later.” Touching his forehead, he turned and hurried across the lobby, almost colliding with Archie Parker, who had just entered through the front door.
Shaking her head, Cecily was just about to mount the stairs when two childish voices called out from behind her. Smiling, she turned to greet her two godchildren.
Lillian and James rushed across the carpet toward her, arms outstretched for a hug, while Daisy followed at a more leisurely pace.
Cecily crouched down as two small bodies hurled themselves at her. Holding a child in each arm, she kissed them both on the cheek. “How are you, my little darlings?”
Daisy reached her, and straightened the scarf holding down her hat. “They are beside themselves with excitement, m’m. I can’t keep them down, so I thought I’d take them for a walk.”
Lillian looked up at her. “Is the elf coming, too?”
Daisy rolled her eyes at the ceiling.
Cecily tilted her head to one side. “Elf? What do you mean?”
Daisy clicked her tongue. “For the past three or four days she’s been talking about this elf.” She frowned at the child. “I keep telling you Lillian, there isn’t any elf. It’s all in your imagination.”
“It’s not! It’s not!” Lillian tugged on Cecily’s sleeve. “I saw him just now. I did! I did!”
“Shut up, Lillian!” James gave her a shove.
Cecily straightened, and patted Lillian’s head. “It’s all right, my precious. If you say you saw an elf, then I believe you.” She smiled at Daisy. “Lots of children have imaginary friends. I don’t think it will do any harm.”
“He’s not a friend.” Lillian sounded belligerent. “He’s a Christmas elf and he brought us a present.”
At that moment a small group of guests entered the lobby, their voices raised in laughter. Cecily bent over to hear the child better just as James gave Lillian another shove, sending her into Cecily. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone. Now Father Christmas won’t come!”
“James!” Daisy stepped forward and grabbed the boy by the collar of his coat. “How many times do I have to tell you? Do not push your sister like that. You’ll hurt her.”
Lillian began to whimper, and Cecily pulled her close. “Daisy’s quite right, James. It isn’t nice to be so rough with your sister. Now tell her you’re sorry.”
James kicked the carpet and mumbled, “Sorry.”
“There.” Cecily gave Lillian a little push away from her. “You see? James is sorry.”
For answer, Lillian gave her brother a hefty shove, and received an ear-splitting howl of protest. Heads turned, and Daisy hastily grabbed the hands of her charges. “I think it’s time we got out in the cold fresh air.”
“Good idea.” Cecily hugged each of the children again. “Have a good walk, my dears. You need to be really tired so that you can go to sleep early before Father Christmas comes.”
“If he comes,” James muttered.
“He will. I promise.” Cecily watched them leave, thinking wistfully of how magical Christmas was to children. How wonderful it would be if everyone, young or old, could feel that same magic.
It was a little hard, she thought as she climbed the stairs, to keep up the Christmas spirit with so much on her mind. If only she could get everything resolved before the end of the day. That didn’t seem very likely at present.
In fact, she was really beginning to worry about Gertie. If something didn’t turn up in the murder case soon, her chief housemaid might very well find herself escorted down to the police station under suspicion. Somehow she had to find out what happened, before the last hours ran out.