Murder at the Mayfair Hotel (Cleopatra Fox Mysteries #1)- C.J. Archer Page 0,74

what he’d ordered. It was two of everything.

Mr. Hookly was either a hungry man or he’d entertained a guest in his room.

I returned the sheet to the wallet and placed it back in the drawer and hurried for the door, only to suddenly stop.

Goliath whistled the Pirate King’s song, from The Pirates of Penzance, loudly and clearly. I switched off the light, hoping it hadn’t been visible beneath the door.

“Mr. Hobart asked me to check on Mr. Armitage’s office from time to time,” I heard Goliath say. “I’ve just come from there.”

There was a pause in which I could just make out Mrs. Kettering’s shrill tone, if not her words.

“Yes, I’ll move on. Goodnight, Mrs. Kettering.”

I waited a moment before opening the door a crack. The coast was clear. I slipped out of the office and quickly locked the door behind me, racing into the foyer.

I didn’t draw breath until I reached the front desk. “Thank you, Goliath,” I said to the porter as I handed the keys back to Peter.

“So?” Goliath asked. “What did you find?”

I could hardly contain my excitement. The stalemate in the case had finally been broken. “Mr. Hookly ordered enough for two on Christmas Eve, yet he’s here alone.”

“Hookly?” Peter echoed. “The gentleman just back from Africa? The one who gave his address as Berkshire?”

“I think Mrs. Warrick recognized him. I overheard her say as much that afternoon and comment that he shouldn’t be here.”

Goliath leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “So she confronted him, he got worried and decided he had to kill her to stop her telling someone that he shouldn’t be in the hotel. He invited her up to his room for dinner, poisoned her food, and she returned to her room where she died.”

It didn’t quite make sense. Apparently she was poisoned between three and six AM. Either the pathologist was wrong about the time of death or she took some food back to her room with her and consumed it later. But where was the evidence? There were no plates or cups that shouldn’t have been in her room, and no leftovers.

“Why did she think he shouldn’t be here?” Peter asked.

Goliath rubbed his jaw. “What if she thought he should still be in Africa? Perhaps that’s why she was surprised to see him here.” He clicked his fingers. “What if he got into trouble there, maybe murdered someone, and came back to England to escape justice, and Mrs. Warrick knew it.”

And I thought my imagination was vivid. “I like your theory, Goliath. It makes sense.”

Peter shook his head. “It’s a mad theory. You’re both mad.” He suddenly stopped and bit his lower lip. “Forgive me, Miss Fox, I don’t mean it.”

I leaned forward a little. “It’s quite all right, Peter. I’m not going to get you into trouble with my uncle when you’re simply being honest.”

He looked relieved. “In that case, I don’t think you’re right. It can’t be Hookly. He’s got a letter of recommendation from Lord Addlington.”

“It could be falsified.”

“It’s on our hotel stationery. How could he falsify it on our stationery if he hadn’t checked in yet?”

I didn’t think it was a watertight argument. Blank hotel stationery wouldn’t be easy to obtain outside the hotel, but it wasn’t impossible. “Pass me the keys to Mr. Hobart’s office again.”

“Why?” Peter asked.

“I want to make a telephone call to Mr. Hookly’s address. We can ask someone there when Mr. Hookly is expected to return home and if they know why he came back from Africa.”

“How will you discover that?”

“Lie, of course. I’ll pretend I’m working for the police on the murder case and am just following up on all the guests’ addresses. ” I put out my palm but Peter shook his head.

“No one will believe a woman works for the police. Let me make the call from here. There’s no one about now.”

There were a handful of people leaving the vestibule and heading to the lift, smoking room or billiards room, but none approached. Peter flipped the pages of his register until he came to Mr. Hookly’s entry.

After a few brief conversations as he was passed from one exchange to the next, he finally had a longer conversation with the person on the other end. His frown deepened. He thanked the other speaker then hung the receiver on the cradle.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Goliath said.

“That’s because I have.” Peter swallowed. “Mr. Hookly is dead.”

Chapter 11

“I got through to the police station nearest Mr. Hookly’s address.”