senior staff. Naturally, I can’t go to Mr. Hobart, and I prefer to speak to you rather than Mrs. Kettering.”
Although his mouth didn’t move, this last comment seemed to please him. He was a handsome man, tall and slim, with dark-hair and a cleanly shaved jaw and upper lip. His snobbish superiority did him no favors, however. It instantly put me off.
“What do you know about Mr. Armitage’s past?” I asked. “Before he came to work here.”
A small crease appeared between his eyebrows. “Very little. He was taken in by Mr. Hobart’s brother, and Mr. Hobart found him a position here. He was promoted to assistant manager over some more eligible candidates.” He sniffed. “No doubt Mr. Hobart wants to keep the line of succession in his family.”
His jealousy took me by surprise. While it was interesting, it wasn’t relevant to the investigation. Except that it might give Mr. Chapman a reason to divulge more than he ought about his rival.
“Has Mr. Armitage ever used his position here to his advantage?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said. “I have to admit he’s very good at what he does. He takes a great load off Mr. Hobart’s shoulders.” So much for jealousy.
I needed to be even more direct if I was going to establish a connection between Mr. Armitage’s past and Mrs. Warrick. “Has Mr. Armitage ever been seen somewhere he shouldn’t be? In the office of one of the other senior staff without them being present, or in a guest’s room, perhaps?”
He glanced past me towards the door then bent his head to mine. “What do you think he has done?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why the questions?”
“So he has never abused his authority?”
He gasped. “Is this about Mrs. Warrick’s murder? Do you suspect him?”
“Everyone is a suspect at this point in time.” I’d gone too far to back away now. Mr. Chapman wasn’t a fool and wouldn’t believe me if I pretended my questions weren’t related to the murder.
“Do you know, it did occur to me that he might have done it,” Mr. Chapman said. “But I dismissed the notion. He’s not the type to poison someone.”
The detective inspector’s words about all types being capable of murder rang in my head like a bell.
“And I didn’t think it a strong enough reason,” Mr. Chapman went on.
“What reason?”
He glanced behind me at the door again. “I overheard Mrs. Warrick having words with Mr. Hobart in his office. The door was closed but she spoke loudly and I could clearly hear her mention Mr. Armitage’s name.”
I knew from experience that one had to press one’s ear to the door to overhear conversations coming from within. Accidentally overhearing something was impossible. “In what context?” I asked.
“I don’t know. All I heard her say was that Mr. Armitage should be spoken to severely, that she expected better from The Mayfair.”
If she had recognized Mr. Armitage and remembered his past as a thief, the first person she’d tell would be his immediate superior. Not knowing Mr. Hobart was his uncle, she would have told him everything. She expected better from The Mayfair because she did not expect a thief to be employed at a luxury hotel.
It fit neatly. Very neatly. Perhaps Mr. Hobart had tried to deny it or brush it off, and she had then threatened to speak to my uncle. That would have worried Mr. Hobart and Mr. Armitage greatly. With Mr. Hobart knowing Mr. Armitage’s past, he should never have hired him at the hotel. Their subterfuge would be exposed and they would both be ordered to leave the hotel immediately.
That night, before she had a chance to speak to my uncle, one or both of them had silenced her.
I wasn’t sure what bothered me more. That Mr. Hobart was complicit in the crime, or that Mr. Armitage had murdered someone. I’d liked them upon first meeting them. Not to mention that my uncle trusted them implicitly. To think them capable of poisoning Mrs. Warrick to ensure her silence was sickening.
Mr. Armitage had proved to be someone other than what he pretended, however. His coldness towards me could be indicative of something even colder, darker, within him.
“I see I’ve done the right thing in telling you,” Mr. Chapman said, straightening.
My mind reeled and my stomach rolled. The implications of this were enormous. I needed to be very careful and very sure before proceeding.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice thin. “You will be discreet about this, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
I left the dining room and caught