Murder at the Mayfair Hotel (Cleopatra Fox Mysteries #1)- C.J. Archer Page 0,55

the boiled eggs untouched. I was still reeling from the news that Mr. Armitage had been arrested for theft as a boy. If Mrs. Warrick knew him back then, and knew of the arrest, she would certainly be surprised to see him at a luxury hotel in a position of responsibility, surrounded by wealthy guests. If she told my uncle, Mr. Armitage would lose his job and reputation. Stopping her seemed like a very strong motive for murder to me.

What I needed to do now was find that connection between Mrs. Warrick and a young Harry Armitage. Perhaps she knew the factory where he had worked before running away. Perhaps she was a patroness of the orphanage, or she could even have been the victim of his thieving. I could check none of those things easily, however. I was at a loss for what to do next.

I ventured downstairs since I was unlikely to find answers to my questions on my breakfast tray. I greeted Peter with a smile. He responded stiffly without meeting my gaze.

First Harmony and now Peter thought poorly of me. Despite my earlier statement that I didn’t care, I found I did care what they thought of me. I cared very much.

“I was following up a clue,” I told Peter. “That’s why I was out late last night. And Victor went with me. If you don’t believe me, ask him. I wasn’t doing anything of the nature you are all thinking. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Miss Fox.”

“Kindly inform the rest of the staff. Only leave out the part about me investigating the murder and meeting Victor. I don’t want to get him into trouble.”

“I knew it,” came Goliath’s voice.

I jumped. I hadn’t seen him approach. For a big man, he had a light step.

“I knew it was something innocent,” he went on. “I’ll be sure everyone is made aware that you had a good reason for going out.”

“What good reason?” Peter asked.

Goliath tapped the side of his nose. “I’ll think of something.”

A porter emerged from the manager’s corridor and approached. “Mr. Hobart wishes to see you, Miss Fox.”

“Oh dear.” He’d heard too and wanted to lecture me about fragile female reputations. Given what I’d learned about Mr. Armitage, I wasn’t keen to see either man, but I doubted I was in any physical danger from them this morning. They didn’t know that I’d been investigating the murder.

I entered the manager’s corridor and approached Mr. Hobart’s door when movement in Mr. Chapman’s office caught my eye. It was Mr. Armitage searching through the pockets of a coat hanging on the stand. He’d angled himself so he could see the door and he quickly withdrew his hand from the pocket and brushed down the jacket sleeve. He didn’t fool me, however.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Looking for Mr. Chapman,” he said, joining me. “There was some dust on his jacket so I brushed it off. We’re very particular about presentation here.”

It was the most ridiculous excuse I’d ever heard, but I wouldn’t let him think I didn’t believe him. If he were the murderer, I must not let him know I suspected him.

It took all of my resolve to feign innocence, however. Now that I strongly suspected Mr. Armitage of the murder, I couldn’t help seeing him in a different light. The charm was all a façade. It was a very convincing façade, and one that he knew how to employ with maximum effect, but I’d seen it slip occasionally. When he thought I doubted his father’s ability as a detective, for one, and when he thought me a woman of ill repute when he caught me in the smoking room.

And now.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “I’d like a word. Please step into my office.”

“No!”

He blinked at my outburst.

“I mean, not right now,” I said quickly.

“If you won’t step into my office, then I’ll say what I have to say out here.” He placed his hands at his back. “It’s about Sir Ronald, as it happens, and the fact that he doesn’t yet know what you got up to last night.”

I wasn’t sure whether to groan or roll my eyes. What I did, however, was blush which only made it worse. I wasn’t guilty. Well, I was guilty of leaving the hotel in the middle of the night, but I had not been alone.

“If you have a secret paramour, that’s your affair,” he went on. “But meet him in the open. Don’t sneak away. The staff see everything