The morning passed swiftly, and in no time, it seemed, Kevin returned to the Pennyfoot. Cecily had invited Madeline to join her and Baxter in the dining room for the midday meal, and Kevin arrived just as they were finishing the last crumbs of delicious apple dumplings with brandy sauce.
When Cecily offered to have a meal sent in for him, he declined, and instead asked that they adjourn to her office. “There is something of grave importance that we must discuss,” he said, filling her once more with cold dread.
She rose at once, signaling Madeline and Baxter to follow her and together they made their way to her office. As Baxter closed the door, she let out a long sigh. “It’s bad news, isn’t it.”
Kevin waited for the women to seat themselves before following suit. “I’m afraid so.” He paused, waiting for Baxter to also take a seat.
Unable to wait a moment longer, Cecily blurted out, “Ian’s death wasn’t an accident after all?”
Baxter looked startled, while Madeline merely nodded.
Kevin glanced at his wife, then folded his hands across his chest. “I decided to take my wife’s advice for once. I examined the wound on the victim’s head. It couldn’t have been caused by a rock. It had a distinct shape. A hexagon, obviously the result of being struck by a heavy object.”
“A candlestick,” Madeline said.
Both men stared at her, while Cecily, realizing at once what was coming, sank back in her chair.
“Candlestick?” Kevin’s voice was sharp again. “How do you know that?”
“There’s one missing,” Madeline said calmly. “Out there on the hallstand. It was part of my display and someone has removed it. I think it might have been used for a much more malicious purpose.”
She gave Cecily a look of apology. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but when Kevin mentioned the hexagon-shaped wound I knew it had to be the candlestick. I sensed the aura of malice when I touched them, and besides, they have a six-sided base.”
“Good Lord.” Baxter leaned forward, his jaw tense with shock. “Are you telling me someone murdered Rossiter?”
“It would appear that way.” Madeline sighed. “I’m so sorry. I know this must be a shock to you both.”
“Why?” Cecily covered her face with her hands for a moment. “Why here? Why now?”
Baxter groaned. “Not again.”
Kevin got up from his chair and pulled a watch from his vest pocket. “If the candlestick was used as a weapon, then we should try to find it.”
“It’s such a beautiful Christmas candlestick,” Madeline said mournfully. “I do hope you get it back.”
The loss of the candlestick did not concern Cecily at all. Nor was she as shocked as Madeline might think. Ever since Clive had burst into the lobby with the news, she’d had an uneasy feeling that Ian’s death might not have been an accident.
What’s more, she was thinking about Gertie’s reaction when she told her that Ian had died. It hadn’t been the first time Gertie had threatened dire harm to Ian if he didn’t leave her and the twins alone. Not only that, Gertie hadn’t seemed in the least surprised that Ian had returned to Badgers End. Which suggested she already knew that he was in the vicinity.
She needed to have a word with that young lady, Cecily decided. As soon as possible.
Gertie pushed the sweeper back and forth across the carpet, angling in between the dining room tables to get underneath them. Pansy was across the room polishing the sideboard, and Gertie had to raise her voice above the squeaking wheels of the sweeper.
“Where’s that Mabel got to? She’s supposed to be in here helping us.”
Pansy shrugged. “Dunno. She went down to the kitchen and she hasn’t come back yet.”
“Bleeding useless, that girl.” Gertie dragged a chair out of her way. “You’ll never guess what she did last night. Lit all the flipping candles on the Christmas tree.”
Pansy spun around. “Go on! What’d she do that for?”
“She said she’s never seen candles lit on a Christmas tree and wanted to know what they looked like.” Gertie paused to get her breath. “Can you imagine what madam would have done if she’d seen them? Ever since that year when the tree caught fire and nearly burned down the hotel she’s never lit another candle on there. I could have screamed when I saw them all flickering away like that.”
“Did you make her blow them all out?”
“You bet I did. I bloody helped her, too.” Gertie shook her head. “It’s a bloody good job it was after nine o’clock and madam had gone to her suite. I told that little twit she’d better not tell anyone what she done or she’d be out on her ear. If I hadn’t seen the flickering light under the library door and gone in there gawd knows what might have happened.”
Pansy’s eyes opened wide. “She could have burned down the hotel!”
“Well, she didn’t, so don’t say nothing. She might not be much of a worker, but we need her help and it’s too late to hire anyone else for the Christmas season now.”
Pansy turned back to her polishing. “I won’t say nothing, but I just hope she doesn’t do anything else stupid.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Gertie started sweeping again. “So how are you and Samuel getting along now? Is he still not talking to you?”
Pansy shrugged. “I haven’t seen much of him lately. He’s been busy with the horses and the motorcars, what with all the guests coming in for Christmas.”
“You two are always arguing.” Gertie pulled another chair out of the way and shoved the sweeper under the table. “I don’t know why you bother.”
“I like Samuel. And he likes me. He just doesn’t want what I want, that’s all.”
“You mean he doesn’t want to get married.”
“He keeps saying I’m too young to know me own mind.” Pansy spun around to face her again, scrunching up the polishing cloth in between her hands. “He won’t believe me when I say I know down deep in me heart he’s the one for me.”
Gertie leaned on the handle of the sweeper. She felt sorry for the young girl, but someone needed to tell her the truth. It would be better coming from a friend, than for her to find out the hard way. “It’s just an excuse, Pansy. Find someone else. Someone what will bleeding appreciate you. Stop wasting your time on Samuel. The truth is, he’ll never marry you, no matter how old you get. His heart belongs to someone else.”
Pansy’s face crumpled. “But I love Samuel. He’s the only one I want. I can make him forget his old girlfriend, I know I can. Doris is in London now and I’m right here.”
“Doris might be in London but her twin sister is still here in the Pennyfoot. Daisy has to remind Samuel of Doris every time he sees her.”
“I know that. I wish she’d gone to London with her sister. I really do.”
Gertie sighed. “I’m sorry, Pansy, but Daisy is a good nanny and I’d hate to lose her. I’d never find another one to live in a room in a country club and look after the twins the way she does.”
Pansy dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. “I know. I just don’t know what to do.”
Gertie sighed. “Men. Who’d have ’em. I’ve had more than my share of ’em and, I tell you, half the time they’re not worth the trouble.”
“Well, what about Dan, then? I thought you were really sweet on him.”
“Dan’s all right. But he’s another one what’s bleeding afraid of getting married. Can’t say as I blame him, though. Taking on another man’s kids is not everyone’s cup of tea. The twins can be a handful at times, and it’s hard to tell them off when they’re not yours.”
“But Dan loves James and Lillian. You said so.”
“Yeah, well, loving them and taking care of them is two different things, ain’t it.”
“It’s a shame.” Pansy turned back to her polishing. “Children should have a father to take care of them.”
“Yeah, well, my kids haven’t had much bloody luck in that department, have they. They never really knew their real father.”
Pansy shook her head. “I still can’t believe Ian’s dead. I only met him once, but you’ve talked about him so much I feel like I knew him. He-” She broke off as a voice spoke from the doorway.
“’Allo, then! Look who’s here! If it ain’t the bold and beautiful Gertie McBride.”
Gertie froze. She’d know that voice anywhere. It was that bloke she bumped into earlier that morning. Sid Barrett, that was it.
Pansy was staring across the room at him, but Gertie refused to turn around. She jumped when his voice sounded right behind her, almost in her ear.
“How about that pint at the pub, then?”
“I told you, sir, I’m not supposed to be mixing with the guests.”
“He’s not a guest,” Pansy piped up. “He’s one of the footmen madam hired for the Christmas season.”
Gertie swung around to face Sid, eyes blazing. “Why the bleeding heck didn’t you tell me that?”
He shook his head. “Tut, tut. Such language from a lady. You didn’t ask me, luv. Besides, I liked the way you called me sir.”
“Don’t you luv me, you lying bugger.” She frowned at him. “How’d you know my name, anyhow?”
Sid grinned. “Made it my business to, didn’t I.” He tapped his nose. “I can find out anything I want if I really put my mind to it.”
Pansy giggled, and Sid winked at her, then set his gaze firmly on Gertie.
He made her nervous. Gertie gripped the sweeper’s handle. Something about his eyes. Shifty, that’s what he was. “I have to get on with my work,” she said stiffly. “So bugger off. You’re not supposed to be in here anyhow.”
“Right.” He glanced at Pansy then, who was staring at him all starry-eyed. “So how about you, then, luv? You’ll have a pint with me, won’t you?”
Giggling again behind her hand, Pansy nodded.
“No she won’t,” Gertie said, sending Pansy a warning look. “She’s already got a boyfriend.”
Looking back at Gertie, Sid tilted his head to one side. “Well, I really just came in to say I’m sorry for the loss of your husband.”
Gertie stared at him. “You knew Ross?”
Something flickered in Sid’s eyes. He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, then said slowly, “I thought she said his name was Ian Rossiter.” He nodded his head at Pansy. “I thought I heard her say as how he’d died and that he was the father of your twins. Sorry if I was mistaken.”
Gertie took a moment to collect her thoughts. How long had the bloke been standing there listening to their private conversation? No wonder he had shifty eyes. He was a bleeding Peeping Tom. “Ian Rossiter did die last night, but he was never my husband,” she said shortly.
“But he was the father of your twins, right?”
Gertie tossed her head. “Not that it’s any of your bloody business.”
“Ah well, anyway, I’m sorry.” Sid laid a hand on her shoulder. “That’s a terrible tragedy, to lose your husband. Especially when you’ve got two little ones to look after.”
Gertie shook off his hand and moved farther away from him, putting the sweeper between them. “You needn’t feel sorry for me. I’m glad he’s dead. So there. He never was no good so good bleeding riddance to him, that’s what I say.”
She was hoping to shock the man into leaving her alone, but Sid seemed unaffected by her bitter outburst. He looked about to say something, but another voice interrupted from the doorway. A gruff voice, with an officious tone that Gertie knew well.
“Well, well,” P.C. Northcott said, moving into the room. “I find that h’interesting. Very h’interesting indeed.”
Gertie sighed as she turned to face the constable, but it was Sid Barrett’s reaction that surprised her. With a muttered “Strewth!” he darted past the constable and practically ran from the room.
If she wasn’t so upset by the man’s rudeness she would have laughed. Constable Northcott was the last person on earth to reprimand anyone for annoying one of the servants. The only servant the constable had any time for was Mrs. Chubb, and that was because he enjoyed the sweets she gave him every time he visited her in the kitchen.
As for the rest of them, they was dirt under the constable’s feet, not worth any consideration. Which was a laugh, since he weren’t no better himself, having been brought up by a dust-man and a wife what took in laundry to keep food on the table.
One of these days, Gertie thought fiercely, she’d let him know she knew about his humble beginnings. That would put an end to his preening about with his fancy talk and all.
“I was looking for Mrs. Baxter,” Northcott said, puffing out his chest. “I ’ave urgent business with her. She’s not in her h’office, so where is she?”
Gertie raised her chin. “I don’t know where madam is. I’m not her bleeding keeper. She’s probably in her suite and won’t want to be disturbed.”
The constable’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no need to take that tone with me. Kindly go to her at once and tell her I need to speak with her. I’ll wait in the lobby.” He twisted around so fast he almost lost his balance.
Gertie waited until he was out of earshot then poked out her tongue. “Bloomin’ ninny he is,” she muttered. “Thinks he’s so clever. I wonder what he’d say if he knew everyone laughs at him behind his back.”
“Well, I hope you’re not the one to tell him that,” Pansy said, looking nervous. “It doesn’t do to upset the bobbies. You never know what they might do.”
Gertie uttered a short laugh. “That silly fool don’t know how to keep his helmet on straight. I’m not afraid of him.” She picked up the sweeper and tucked it under her arm. “I’d better go and tell madam he’s here, before he eats all the tarts Mrs. Chubb made for supper. I never seen a man with a sweet tooth like that one.”
“Give me the sweeper.” Pansy held out her hand. “I’ll finish in here for you.”
Pleasantly surprised, Gertie beamed at her. “That’s blinking good of you, Pansy. Ta ever so!”
Pansy gave her a weak smile and took the sweeper from her. “I ain’t got nothing else to do until we get ready for supper, so I might as well do the carpets.”
Gertie felt another twinge of sympathy. “You’re not seeing Samuel, then?”
“Nah.” Pansy’s shoulders sagged. “He said he was going to be busy this afternoon.”
“Well, look. Wait until I get back and then we’ll go for a walk with the twins. It’s their nanny’s day off so I promised to take them and I’ll be glad of the company.”
Pansy brightened. “Really? I’d love to go for a walk. I haven’t been out walking in ages.”
“Good. I’ll be back in half a mo.” Hurrying off, Gertie cursed Samuel under her breath. What was the matter with men that they couldn’t make up their minds what they wanted?
Samuel should do the right thing and tell Pansy he was never going to marry her, instead of stringing the poor girl along with hopes and dreams that weren’t ever going to come true. Men. The world would be a lot happier place without them. Even Dan. She never knew where she was with him.
One day she’d be thinking he really did love her and want to be with her, then he’d go and say something that would make her think he regretted ever coming back to Badgers End.
Maybe he should have stayed in London. Then he wouldn’t have raised her hopes again, just when she was starting to get over him. He’d been back a year, and never a word about his plans for the future. Their future. Or maybe there was no future for either of them. At least not together.
Thoroughly disgruntled, she stomped up the stairs to madam’s suite and rapped on the door. Mr. Baxter answered, and he didn’t look too happy, neither.
“Yes, what is it?”
Gertie pinched her lips together. Usually when he spoke like that he was arguing with madam. Which meant she’d better be bloody careful what she said to him.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said, bobbing a curtsey, “I’m sorry to disturb you but P.C. Northcott is here and he says he has urgent business with madam. He’s waiting in the lobby.”
Mr. Baxter gave her a curt nod. “Thank you, Gertie. I’ll inform Mrs. Baxter. Please tell the constable she’ll be down in a moment or two.”
“Yes, sir.” Relieved to have escaped without incurring the master’s wrath, Gertie fled down the hall to the stairs. Next time she came back, she vowed silently, she’d come back as a man. So help her, she would.