Murder at the Mayfair Hotel (Cleopatra Fox Mysteries #1)- C.J. Archer Page 0,24

you find the killer, the sooner I can get back to work.”

“And the better we can avoid scandal.” Harmony squeezed his shoulder again.

It didn’t cheer Danny up. “Will this affect the ball?”

“It might, if we don’t find the killer soon. No one will want to stay here with a murderer roaming about, like Miss Fox said.”

We went to leave, but I paused at the door. “Did you notice anyone in or near the kitchen last night who shouldn’t have been there?”

Danny shook his head.

Harmony and I left, giving the constable smiles of thanks as we walked towards the stairs. Instead of going up, we went down.

When Mr. Armitage had taken me on a tour, we’d not stepped very far into the kitchen. Today, Harmony and I ventured beyond the door into the hot, pulsing, noisy space. Chefs dressed all in white worked at long counters or by the stoves, some shouting orders with others hurrying to carry them out. A robust man with red cheeks sang an operatic tune as he chopped potatoes, while the sweating chef next to him downed the contents of a tankard in one gulp. Shelves stacked with pots and pans ranged against the back wall and electric bulbs hung from long wires over the benches to better cast their light in the windowless basement. A short fellow with curled moustache ends strolled between the other staff, hands at his back, inspecting the work of each man and sometimes tasting the contents of a pot.

“The chef de cuisine calls it the heart of the hotel,” Harmony said with a nod at the short man, “but I think it should be called the bowels, seeing as it’s located in the basement and all the food is processed here.”

“He’s the kitchen manager?” I asked. “We should speak with him.”

She grasped my arm and held me back. “Lord, no. He’ll order us out.” She waited until he’d moved further into the kitchen, his back turned, then she beckoned to one of the other chefs. “Victor is one of the junior cooks. He’ll talk to us.”

Victor’s soft features would have given him a baby-faced appearance if not for the white scar across his cheek. He sauntered over, carrying a large knife, and greeted Harmony with a curt nod. He gave me a very thorough inspection as Harmony introduced us and I too received a nod.

“Were you working last night?” Harmony asked.

Victor tossed the knife and caught it by the handle without taking his gaze off Harmony. “Aye.”

“Miss Fox wants to ask you some questions.”

He tossed the knife in the air again, catching it deftly, before repeating the motion over and over. He didn’t once look at the knife whereas I couldn’t take my gaze off it. “Who’re you, Miss Fox?” he asked in a Cockney accent.

“Sir Ronald’s niece,” Harmony said through a clenched jaw. “Honestly, Victor, you should get out of the kitchen sometimes.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Harmony thrust a hand on her hip. “Will you stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

She indicated the knife as he tossed it again. “It’s very distracting.”

“No, it ain’t. It’s calming. A properly made, well balanced knife is real soothing to handle.” He threw the knife up again, but this time caught it on the back of his hand, horizontally. It didn’t so much as wobble. “Want me to show you a trick?” he asked me. “Put your hand down on the table and spread your fingers wide.”

Harmony gasped. “Do not show her that trick! Put your own fingers at risk if you want to show off.”

Victor twirled the knife with his fingers then thrust it into the knife belt slung around his hips. Now that his hands were still, I could see the burn scars on his right and the missing tip of his index finger on the left. “So what do you want to know?”

“Did you make the hot chocolate for Mrs. Warrick last night?” I asked.

“Nope, that was Jack, but I was next to him the entire time.” He indicated another man by one of the stoves. “The police have already asked me this, but I’ll tell you too, Miss Fox. No one came near the pot and Jack ain’t the type to poison someone.”

“Did anyone else go near Mrs. Warrick’s pot of chocolate after he filled it and before Danny collected it?”

“Not that I saw, but I wasn’t watching the entire time. After Jack filled it, he wrote the name and room number on a card and placed it on