Murder at the Mayfair Hotel Page 10

  “Oh, but I want to. Had you met poor Mrs. Warrick?”

  “Who?”

  “The victim.”

  “No, I don’t think so. I might have exchanged words with her at some point, in the lift or the foyer. I don’t know. How is the duck?”

  Try as I might, Mr. Duffield refused to talk more about the murder or himself, unless it was to tell me how large his estate was, how many tenant farms were on it, and his long-deceased grandfather, the earl.

  I was going to have a story to rival Flossy’s for dullness by the end of the evening. I’d readily swap places with her and be forced to converse with an archaeological enthusiast over this self-important bore.

  I was relieved when he excused himself after the meal. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

  He left before I could tell him I had somewhere to be. A few minutes later, he returned to the dining room. I made a study of the tablecloth and silverware while he stopped to speak to Mr. Chapman. Mr. Chapman’s glance in my direction left me in no doubt that I was the subject of their conversation.

  When he returned, Mr. Duffield did not sit down. “Thank you for your company tonight, Miss Fox.”

  “You’re going?” I wasn’t sorry to see him leave, but I was surprised the evening was ending so suddenly. I thought he’d enjoyed talking about himself.

  “I have a headache.” He touched his temple. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” I said to his retreating back.

  Mr. Duffield exchanged a look with Mr. Chapman as he passed.

  I followed him out, smiled at Mr. Chapman, and made my way to the foyer. It was still early, but I was tired. It had been a long day. Even so, I wanted to look for a book in the library. The library was located through the sitting room, however, and the sitting room doors were closed.

  I opened one and peeked in. It was dark. If I wanted to reach the library without knocking into tables and chairs, I’d need to turn on the light, and that would probably draw the attention of a staff member. Very well, so be it. I was doing nothing wrong.

  I felt beside the door for the switch, but couldn’t find it. It must be on the other side.

  The lights suddenly went on. “Can I help you, Miss Fox?”

  My stomach sank. Of all the ill luck, I’d caught the attention of Mr. Armitage. Going by the frostiness of his tone, he was still cross with me.

  “I’m just going to the library,” I said. “Thank you for turning on the light. I couldn’t find it.”

  “The switch is beside the door, as it is in all the rooms.”

  I bristled. “I checked the wrong side first.” I waited but he did not leave. “I’ll turn it off when I’m finished.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “I could be a while. I like to browse.”

  “As I said, I’ll wait.” If his tone got any cooler, I’d need a coat.

  “Afraid I’ll steal a teacup on my way out?” I spun around and marched off towards the library.

  The room wasn’t large, but it was packed with books and periodicals of all kinds, even sensational novels. I skipped past those and scanned the non-fiction section. Very aware of the imposing figure of Mr. Armitage watching me from the sitting room, I read the spines without really taking them in, and had to read them a second time. Finally settling on two titles, I clutched them to my chest and rejoined him.

  He stood with crossed arms, leaning against the doorframe. The casual pose was at odds with his usual straight-backed formality. The alert gaze was not.

  “Found what you wanted?” he asked.

  “Unfortunately you foiled my plan to steal the teacups, and I had to settle for books instead.” I strolled past him and did not look back.

  The news of Danny’s release reached me mid-morning via Harmony. She was thrilled to report that he was back at work already.

  “He’s quite the sensation among the staff,” she said as she tidied up my already tidy room. “He has some interesting tales to tell about his arrest and time in the holding cell, but he does like to embellish things, so I wouldn’t trust a word he says.”

  “Did he say why the police released him?” I asked.

  “Two reasons, apparently. The poison wasn’t in the pot or cup of chocolate, and the time of death was estimated by the pathologist as occurring between three and six in the morning. Danny was with someone at that time.”

  I turned to face her. “He has a lover?” I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. I might have led a sheltered life, but I wasn’t so naïve to assume that people didn’t have lovers. Perhaps it was because I suspected Harmony held a tendre for him, and that was why she’d advocated for his release so vehemently.

  She didn’t look upset to learn about his lover, however. She hummed a tune as she dusted a dust-free table.

  “Why didn’t he mention the lover to the detective at the time of his arrest?” I asked.

  “He was probably protecting him.”

  “Him?” I blurted out. “Oh. I see.” I turned back to the correspondence I’d been reading on my desk, my face hot.

  “Only his closest friends know. Promise not to tell a soul,” she said urgently. “Not even your family. You know what happened to Oscar Wilde, don’t you?”

  The homosexual playwright had been imprisoned for gross indecency a few years ago. The law was not on the side of men like him. “Why didn’t the detective inspector arrest Danny for that once he revealed his alibi?”

  She shrugged. “He must be a good man, like his brother, Mr. Hobart.”

  “Mr. Hobart knows about Danny?”

  “Mr. Hobart knows everything about everyone in the hotel.”

  “Have the police returned this morning?” I asked.

  “The detective inspector came and spoke with Sir Ronald, Mr. Hobart and Mr. Armitage first thing, then left again.”

  It was a relief that Danny was no longer a suspect; however, the sense of urgency to find the killer still ate at me. My uncle must be beside himself with worry. Having someone arrested had eased the minds of the guests, both those already here and those yet to check in. But once word got out that Danny had been released, fear would lead to cancellations. All it would take would be for the newspapers to report it, and the hotel’s reputation would be in tatters.

  Harmony joined me at the desk, her duster flicking back and forth over the lampshade. “Will you continue with the investigation now?”

  “I feel as though I’ve come too far to stop.”

  “True. And there’s always the danger that they’ll arrest another innocent staff member.”

  “What makes you think they’re all innocent? Perhaps one of them is the murderer.”

  She winced. “I don’t want to consider that possibility. I don’t even want Mrs. Kettering to be guilty of such a terrible crime. She’s a dragon and a bully, but she has a moral compass as straight as an arrow. If she did it, it means my judgement of character is far off course.”

  I touched her hand. “You’ve proved to be an excellent judge of character so far. You were certainly right about Danny.”

  Harmony and I parted ways outside my suite. I headed downstairs while she went to clean Floyd’s room. John the lift operator was in a good mood as he repeated what I already knew about Danny’s release.

  As I passed Goliath in the foyer, pushing a trolley laden with trunks towards the door, he whispered, “Did you hear? Danny’s free.”

  I caught Peter’s eye as he stood behind the counter, attending to a guest. He nodded and gave me a fleeting smile. The staff were certainly in a buoyant mood this morning. It didn’t seem to cross any of their minds that one of them could be arrested next.

  I wasn’t sure who I hoped to find, only that I wanted to speak to someone more knowledgeable than Harmony. I’d considered talking to my uncle, but to be perfectly honest, I wished to avoid my uncle and aunt as much as possible. With him so busy, and her keeping to her room, it wouldn’t be difficult.

  Or so I thought. The last person I expected to
bump into was Uncle Ronald as he emerged from Mr. Hobart’s office.

  “Cleo!” he said, sounding as surprised as I felt. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to ask Mr. Hobart something. Something about the hotel.”

  “What is it? I can probably answer. I do know quite a bit about my hotel.”

  “Er, yes. But this is about the ball.”

  He drew in a breath. “The ball,” he muttered. “If it goes ahead, then you’re right to ask Mr. Hobart. He’s making all the arrangements.”

  “Do you think it will be canceled because of the murder?”

  “I’m hoping not, but it will require many telephone calls to friends and invited guests, reassuring them it’s quite safe.” He sighed heavily. “The police released the footman. While I’m pleased we haven’t hired a murderer, if the real culprit isn’t arrested soon, the ball will be in jeopardy. Perhaps even the hotel itself.”

  Was the hotel so financially unstable that a shake of its reputation could bring it down?

  “I’m sure the murderer will be found soon,” I assured him.

  “Does your interest in the ball mean you’ll be attending if it goes ahead? Flossy will be pleased.”

  “I’m still undecided,” I said. “I hoped Aunt Lilian could guide me.”

  His thick moustache settled into a frown. “It’s best not to trouble your aunt today,” he muttered. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”

  He headed off through the foyer. I knocked on Mr. Hobart’s door and entered upon his word.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you,” I said.

  “Not at all.” He indicated a chair opposite his desk. “How may I help you?”

  There was no subtle way of getting answers to my questions so I decided to be direct. “I have a terribly curious nature,” I began. “I hoped you would satisfy my curiosity about Danny’s release.”

  He removed his spectacles and folded the arms with slow, precise movements. “Murder is not the sort of subject that should interest a young lady,” he said carefully.

  “I am not an ordinary young lady.”

  That brought a smile to his face, one that seemed unguarded. It was the first time I’d seen a chink in his professional armor.

  Still, he required more encouragement. “I’m used to having my mind engaged, you see. In Cambridge, I would attend lectures at the university, and I belonged to several societies where members would discuss the latest theories on all sorts of matters. Moving here has cut me off from all my former activities.”

  “You’re bored. Is that what you’re saying, Miss Fox?”

  “I suppose I am.” It wasn’t far from the truth. Since arriving in London, my days had been occupied with learning about my new home and the murder. Once it was solved, I would need something else to do.

  “There are societies in London that you can join. Harry will give you a list, if you like.”

  “He knows which societies accept women?”

  There was that smile again. “He will find out for you.”

  “That’s very kind, but I’m sure Mr. Armitage has a great deal of work at the moment, with preparing for the ball. Uncle Ronald says it’s still going ahead.”

  Mr. Hobart picked up his spectacles. “We’re proceeding as if it is.”

  “So, may I ask you some questions about the murder?”

  “What makes you think I know anything?”

  “I suspect your brother confides in you.”

  “Don’t be so certain. At this point, I’m probably a suspect too.” He smiled as he put on his glasses. “Very well. Go on, Miss Fox, I’ll see if I can answer your questions. We can’t have your brain shrinking from lack of use.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hobart. All of my questions relate to poison. Since none was found in the chocolate pot or cup, does the inspector know how Mrs. Warrick ingested it? Did the police test the teacup delivered the following morning by the maid?”

  “It was also negative for poison. Tests are also being undertaken on a bottle of tonic, tube of toothpaste, and a pot of face cream removed by the police from Mrs. Warrick’s room.”

  “What type of poison was used?”

  “Mercuric cyanide.”

  Mercury was commonly used in agriculture and industry, and wasn’t difficult to obtain. That was the extent of my knowledge.

  “Nothing else was delivered to Mrs. Warrick’s room that night?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I checked with the staff myself. Mrs. Warrick received nothing else from the hotel kitchen between the time Danny delivered the hot chocolate and Edith brought Mrs. Warrick’s tea at seven the following morning.”

  “She died between three and six, so the doctor said. Does your brother have faith that it’s an accurate estimation?”

  “He claims the science for estimating the time of death is quite good. It means Danny’s delivery was too early, and Edith was too late. I admit I’m relieved it’s neither of them.”

  “Does your brother suspect anyone else on the staff?”

  “He hasn’t confided that to me, and nor would he. He knows I’ll advocate for them. At least, he knows now, after arresting poor Danny.”

  If he advocated loudly for his staff, how loud would he be if he discovered his nephew were guilty? Then again, Mr. Armitage’s own father wouldn’t arrest him.

  “So the poison must have been in the tonic, toothpaste or face cream,” I said.

  “The tests will prove which.”

  Someone must have added poison to the bottle, tube or pot, either when Mrs. Warrick wasn’t there or directly under her nose. If she wasn’t there, then someone must have let themselves in with a key, and that pointed to one of the staff. If Mrs. Warrick was present, but turned her back on the poisoner, then almost anyone could be guilty. They didn’t need a key. They simply needed to know her so that she would allow them into her room.

  “Did Mrs. Warrick have friends at the hotel?” I asked.

  He frowned as he thought. “She dined alone and sat in the sitting room by herself. I don’t recall her speaking to any of the other guests.”

  So the only person she did know was the man she’d recognized in the foyer on the day of her death. That narrowed the list to three suspects.

  I rose. “Thank you, Mr. Hobart. You’ve given me some things to think about.”

  He put on his spectacles and peered over the top of them. “If you think of something that might be relevant, you will tell my brother, won’t you?”

  “Of course. If I learn something that would be of interest to him, I most certainly will.” No doubt the inspector wouldn’t be interested in learning something that would incriminate his own son, so I wasn’t precisely lying.

  “And Miss Fox? Don’t ask anyone else questions about the murder. It’s possible the killer has checked out of the hotel, but it’s equally possible he has not. Trust only Sir Ronald, myself and Harry if you have anything else to ask.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Hobart. It’s very kind of you.” I closed the door behind me, and touched my tingling nose. His fatherly words had brought tears to my eyes. Clearly I was still feeling raw from Grandmama’s death.

  Peter signaled for me to approach as I passed his counter. “Harmony wants to speak to you,” he said. “She’s in the parlor with some of the others.”

  The “others” turned out to be Victor and Edith. Victor hadn’t yet started his shift for the day, and Edith had just finished cleaning some of her allocated rooms and was waiting for more to be vacated before she returned to work. Harmony didn’t explain her presence there. Either she was finished altogether and didn’t want Edith to feel bad, or she shouldn’t have been in the parlor at all.

  “Did you discover anything further?” Harmony asked as she closed the door behind me.

  I told them how the police found mercuric cyanide in Mrs. Warrick’s body. “They’ve taken away a few items from her toilette for testing. The poison must be in one of those.” />
  “What does mercuric cyanide taste like?” Victor asked.

  “How would any of us know?” Harmony cried.

  He drummed his fingers on his thigh and shrugged.

  “Metallic, I imagine,” I said.

  “Probably not very pleasant,” Edith added with a shudder.

  Victor continued to drum his fingers, as if he needed to do something with his hands. He would probably like to be handling one of the knives housed in the belt slung around his waist, but it was likely Harmony had already scolded him for doing so before my entry. “It causes vomiting, that much we know,” he said.

  “Victor,” Harmony hissed with a jerk of her head at Edith.

  Edith had gone quite pale. “It was a horrible scene,” she whispered through trembling lips. “I hope never to witness the like of Mrs. Warrick’s face again.”

  Harmony took her hand and clasped it between both of hers. “We’ll just have to wait for the results of the tests to know if the poison was in her personal items.”

  “What else could it be in?” I asked.

  “Her dinner?” Edith suggested.

  I shook my head. “She ingested the poison between three and six AM.”

  Harmony perched on the edge of the table and her gaze met mine. “That would imply the poison was in the tonic. Nobody puts on face cream or cleans their teeth in the early hours of the morning.”

  “Unless they just returned to their room,” Victor added.

  Harmony frowned. “Did Mrs. Warrick seem like the type to have a midnight rendezvous?”

  Victor shrugged.

  “Mr. Hobart claims she knew nobody at the hotel,” I said. “All we know is she recognized someone.” I kept the information about Mr. Armitage being one of those men to myself. Until I knew if they would take his side or not, I wouldn’t tell them.

  “You say the latest she could have been poisoned is six AM,” Edith said to me in her mousy voice.

  “According to the medical expert, yes.”

  “And I was there at seven.” She bit on her lower lip and looked down at her lap.

  “What is it?” Harmony asked. “If you know something, Edith, you must tell us.”