Murder at the Mayfair Hotel (Cleopatra Fox Mysteries #1)- C.J. Archer Page 0,31
tree? There was another man also nearby, reading the newspaper.”
“Just after you and Miss Bainbridge came out of the sitting room?” Peter nodded. “I remember.”
“He doesn’t miss anyone,” Goliath said with a smirk at Frank.
Frank looked like he wanted to retort, but he pursed his lips and hunched his shoulders. Goliath chuckled into his teacup.
“The man Mr. Armitage spoke to is Mr. Hookly, room five-oh-five,” Peter said. “Nice fellow, cheerful, receives a lot of parcels from various shops. The one reading the newspaper was Mr. Duffield, second son of a second son of an earl, or something like that. Bit of a snob but doesn’t give us any trouble. He’s staying on the third floor.”
The same level as Mrs. Warrick. “Do you know what they’re doing in London?”
Peter shrugged. “They came for the ball, I suspect. They must have decided to come a few days early. The unmarried ones without family like to spend Christmas Day here.”
“Do you know anything about where they’re from? What they do for a living?”
“No, but I can find out their addresses. Everyone has to leave one when they check in. It’s recorded in the reservation book.”
“If you could get them for me, that would be marvelous.”
“Why?” Goliath asked. “What have these men got to do with Mrs. Warrick’s murder?”
“She recognized one of them, but I don’t know which.” I didn’t tell him that she could have been referring to Mr. Armitage. If I did, would these staff defend their superior’s honor? “It could mean nothing,” I went on. “It’s just a line of inquiry I want to follow.”
“You’re very thorough,” Harmony said, taking my empty cup and placing it on the tray.
Edith suddenly got to her feet with a gasp. “Look at the time. I’d better return to work.”
Harmony glanced at the small clock beside a stack of periodicals on the shelf. “I thought you’d finished for the day, like me.”
“Mrs. Kettering asked me to do something for her.”
“Or are you really going off to see your beau?” Goliath asked with a wink.
Edith blushed and lowered her head.
“Leave her be,” Harmony scolded.
Frank plucked the empty teacup from Goliath’s fingers. “Just because no one loves you, Goliath, there’s no need to be jealous of those of us with paramours.”
“Those of us?” Goliath snorted. “I don’t see women lining up outside the hotel to get a look at your ugly mug.”
Frank placed the teacups down with a loud clatter. “Nor yours.”
Edith opened the door to go, but I laid a hand on her arm. She jumped. “Speaking of Mrs. Kettering,” I said gently, “remember not to breathe a word of my investigation to her. Or to anyone.”
“I won’t, and certainly not to that dragon.” Edith put more spirit into the word than she had the rest of her words combined.
“That was unexpected,” Harmony said with a laugh after Edith departed.
Victor threw one of his knives in the air and caught it. “Calling someone a dragon seems normal to me. From the way Mrs. Kettering talks to you girls, I’m surprised someone hasn’t poisoned her. I’d wager you’ve dreamed about it on more than one occasion.”
“You are a strange man.” She picked up the tray and shoved it into his chest, choosing the moment between him catching the knife and tossing it again. “Take this back to the kitchen. This girl has finished for the day.”
Victor steadied the tray as Harmony marched out of the parlor. “What’d I say to deserve that?”
I spotted Mr. Hookly while I sat in one of the chairs in the foyer, pretending to read a book. He emerged from the lift and headed for the smoking room. I followed five minutes later, the book tucked under my arm.
There were only three gentlemen in the smoking room and all looked up upon my entry. The two elderly smokers held cigars while the third, Mr. Hookly, stood side-on to the fireplace, a slender cigarette dangling between his fingers. One of the cigar smokers gave me such a look of disgust that I wanted to run from the room. The second shook his head, as if my presence saddened him. Only Mr. Hookly welcomed me.
“May I try one of those?” I asked, setting my book on the mantelpiece and pointing to his cigarette.
“Of course.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a silver case.
I removed one of the cigarettes and held it between thumb and forefinger while he lit it for me. He watched, smiling, as I placed it between my lips.