Decked With Folly

Shivering, she drew her scarf tightly about her neck. “Hurry, Samuel,” she called out. “We must reach town before closing time.”

“Right away, m’m.” Samuel cracked the whip and the horse started forward, jerking her back in her seat.

Their journey was slowed by the gray fog that swallowed up the view ahead. In a fever of impatience, Cecily leaned forward, as if by doing so she could will them to go faster, although she knew how dangerous that would be. Samuel was an experienced driver, and she respected his judgement.

At long last they reached the town, where the vehicles had thinned out considerably. Ordering Samuel to stop in front of a men’s clothier store, she climbed down before he had a chance to leap to the ground and assist her.

The manager was about to close the door as she reached it, and she gave him her warmest smile. “I shan’t be but a minute,” she promised, and, with reluctance, he allowed her to enter.

It actually took her ten minutes to find what she wanted, a burgundy velvet waistcoat. She waited for the assistant to wrap it for her, then hurried out of the shop and back to the carriage.

More relaxed now, she had time to think about Bernard McPherson’s words as they sped back along the Esplanade. Gloria had lied about the evening Ian died. Instead of waiting for him at home, as she told Cecily she had done, she must have gone to the George and Dragon to find him, but arrived after the fight and after Ian had left.

Since Bernard hadn’t seen the fight, he could not have told her that Ian had a black eye. Nor, apparently, did she speak to anyone else. Which meant that Gloria must have seen her husband later that night.

Now what Cecily wanted to know was why Gloria lied about that and what it was she was trying to hide.

“Where the heck did they find this?” Gertie snatched up the candlestick and held it out to Daisy. “Where did they get it?”

Daisy dropped her book and sat up. “I dunno. I never saw it before.”

Gertie swung around to face her children. Lillian looked scared, while James stared at her in defiance. “Where did you get this?” She shook it in James’s face and Lillian burst into tears.

“It must have been in the room.” Daisy jumped off the bed and fell to the floor on her knees. “They haven’t been out since you left.” Putting an arm about Lillian’s shoulders, she said gently, “Tell us where you found the candlestick, there’s a precious girl.”

“We found it under the bed,” James said, jutting out his bottom lip. “The stupid thing was just lying there. We didn’t do nothing wrong, Mama!”

Realizing her hand was still shaking, Gertie clutched the candlestick to her chest. “Under the bed? Are you telling me the truth, James? Lillian! Is he telling me the truth?”

Lillian simply cried harder. Daisy looked up at her, accusation blazing in her eyes. “What is the matter with you, Gertie? It’s just a silly old candlestick. It’s not even real silver.”

Instead of answering her, Gertie turned up the base of the candlestick. On the bottom was a brown stain, with a half dozen hairs sticking to it.

Fighting a sudden urge to be sick, Gertie put a hand over her mouth. “I have to talk to madam. Look after them until I get back.”

“What’s wrong? Gertie, whatever is the matter?”

Ignoring Daisy’s anxious cries, Gertie fled out the door and ran headlong down the corridor. She reached the stairs before she thought to hide the candlestick under her apron. Clamping it against her hip, she raced awkwardly up the stairs and across the foyer.

Just as she reached the foot of the stairs, Sid appeared in the hallway. “’Allo,” he called out. “What’s yer bleeding rush? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Maybe I have.” She paused on the bottom step. “Is madam in her office?”

“Nah, I just come from there. I don’t know where she’s gone.”

Without bothering to answer him, Gertie leapt up the stairs, taking them two at once. By the time she reached the first landing she was fighting for breath and had to slow down.

Climbing the second flight more slowly, she tried to sort out her jumbled thoughts. The twins had found the candlestick under the bed. She had no doubt it was the murder weapon, but what in blazes was it doing under her bed? She certainly hadn’t put it there.

Which meant someone else must have. The same someone who had hit Ian over the head with it? With a cold stab of fear she remembered the tumbled contents of her dresser, the clothes dragged to the side on her wardrobe.

Had there been a killer in her room? When? How?

The thought of it made her feel faint. A killer in the room with her twins. He could have killed them, too. From now on, she would make sure that the door would be locked all the time, whether anyone was in there or not.

At last she reached the top landing. Breathless and afraid, she raced down the hallway to madam’s suite and rapped on the door.

Baxter’s muffled voice answered her, sounding irritated. “All right, all right, hold your horses. I’m coming.” The door opened, and his disgruntled face peered out. “Oh, it’s you, Gertie. What is it now?”

“I’m looking for madam. Is she here?” Gertie heard the tremble in her words and swallowed.

“No, she’s not. She’s out on an errand. What is it?” He must have noticed her distress, and he peered more closely at her. “What’s happened now? Oh, great heavens. Don’t tell me someone else has been murdered?”

“Not as far as I know, sir.” Gertie drew the candlestick out from under her apron and held it out to him.

For a long moment he stared at it as if he’d never seen anything like it before, then his frown cleared, to be replaced by shock. “Good Lord! Don’t tell me that thing is what I think it is?”

Gertie nodded. “I think so, sir. I think it’s the candlestick that killed Ian Rossiter.”

CHAPTER 15

Instead of answering Gertie, Baxter opened the door wider, grabbed her arm, and dragged her inside the room. Slamming the door shut, he took a deep breath. “All right. Now tell me where you found it.”

Gertie blinked hard. “It was under me bed, sir.”

“Under your bed? What the devil was it doing there?”

“I don’t know, sir. My twins found it. They were playing with it when I walked in there just now.”

Baxter took the candlestick out of her hand and walked over to the dresser, where he carefully set it down. “Are you quite sure they found it under the bed?”

“Yes, sir. Daisy was with them all afternoon and they never went out of the room.”

“And you’ve not seen it before now?”

Gertie shuddered. “No, sir.”

“Then how did it get under your bed?”

“I don’t know sir, but last night when I got back to me room I thought the twins had been messing around with my things. Now I think someone was in the room, and put the candlestick under my bed.”

Baxter’s eyebrows shot up. “Why?”

“Perhaps he was looking for a place to hide it.”

“And in the entire building, all he could find was your bed?”

“Yes, sir. Or…” She hesitated, reluctant to put her thoughts into words.

“Or what, girl? Spit it out!”

“Or p’raps he wanted it to be found in my room, so’s people would think I killed Ian.”

“Oh, good Lord.” Baxter ran a hand through his hair. “I suppose that could be.” He thought for a moment, then said briskly, “All right. Leave this with me.” He put an awkward hand on her shoulder, gave her a gentle pat, then dropped his hand again. “Try not to worry, Gertie. Mrs. Baxter and I will sort all this out.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” She bent her knees, then twisted around to reach for the door handle. “I didn’t kill him, sir.”

“I know that, Gertie. Now run along and do try not to worry.”