This is my predicament, and I must decide how to settle it. I have no doubt it will be resolved, one way or another.”
Cecily felt a pang of apprehension. “What does that mean, exactly?”
Madeline smiled. “It means I shall find a way to make everyone happy. Including you, so take that frown off your face and tell me why you summoned me here this morning.” She lifted a scone from the platter and held it to her nose. “Oh, heavens, just the smell is divine. How I wish I could bake like this.”
Still not reassured, Cecily took a scone and laid it on her plate. “Promise me you won’t do anything drastic without talking to me first.”
Madeline raised a delicate eyebrow. “Drastic? My whole life has been drastic. Why should things be any different for me now?”
“Because you are a wife and, soon to be, mother. Things have to be different.”
“You worry too much. I shall take very good care of my child, no matter who she is or what happens to her in the future.”
“It’s a girl? Really? How do you know that?”
Madeline put her fingers to her forehead and closed her eyes. After a moment she opened them again and announced, “I don’t. I’m just guessing.”
Suspecting her friend was having fun with her, Cecily gave up. “Well, do let me know what Kevin has to say. I have an idea he will be delighted.”
“I hope you’re right.” Madeline picked up the teapot and poured the hot liquid into Cecily’s cup, then filled her own. “Now, for the third time, why exactly am I here?”
Cecily sighed. “Very well.” She glanced over at the occupied tables but the other customers seemed immersed in conversations of their own. Keeping her voice low, just in case, she murmured, “I saw your reaction when I told Kevin about finding the candlestick. I confess, I did wonder if you’d had… a moment of insight perhaps. I know he doesn’t want you using your powers to help me, but frankly, I’m at a loss as to how to proceed. If I don’t solve this murder before Sam Northcott returns, I’m afraid Gertie might be taken down to the station and held there on suspicion of murder.”
Madeline gazed at her over the rim of her cup. “You’re quite sure Gertie didn’t kill Ian? After all, she has threatened to do away with him often enough.”
“I’m quite sure. In fact, I have my own ideas as to who might have been responsible, but at present I don’t have much evidence to substantiate my suspicions.”
Madeline’s eyes lit up. “So tell me, who do you think is responsible?”
“I’d rather not say at this point.” Cecily hesitated, then added, “Actually, I have more than one suspect, which doesn’t help matters.”
“Oh, my. Poor Ian. Apparently he was not a popular fellow.”
Cecily scowled. “This is not exactly a laughing matter, Madeline.”
She was immediately contrite. “Of course not, Cecily. I apologize. The truth is, I don’t remember my reaction yesterday. Except to wonder if Gertie really had killed Ian and had actually hidden the candlestick under the bed herself. I thought perhaps, when the twins found it, she was forced into lying about it. I suppose I was concerned about what would happen to the twins if she was convicted of murder.”
Cecily shuddered. “Don’t even entertain the thought. I’m as sure as I can be that Gertie didn’t kill Ian. I just have to find out who did, and as quickly as possible.” She studied Madeline’s face. “It worries me greatly that you saw dead bodies in your vision the other day. I hope and pray that doesn’t mean someone else will be killed.”
Madeline shook her head. “You know most of my visions are merely symbols. We just have to work out what it meant, that’s all. I’m quite sure you won’t find bodies scattered all over the bowling greens, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Cecily gave her a wan smile. “I was rather. Silly, I suppose, but when I’m in the dark like this it’s easy to imagine all sorts of horrors.”
“Well, put the thought right out of your head.” Madeline put down her cup and picked up what was left of her scone. “The bodies in my vision most likely represent something quite mundane, like crushed flowers, or dead spiders. You just have to work out what the connection is to your murder, that’s all.”
Dolly arrived at that moment with the Banbury cakes, and Cecily tried to put aside her worries for the moment to enjoy the delicious treats. The concern lingered, however, and she could not dismiss the sense of urgency. Time was of the essence, and she was fast running out of it.
Gertie hauled the carpet sweeper up the last of the stairs, puffing with exertion. Normally she took her time climbing them, but this morning she wanted to be done early. Dan had promised to stop by after the midday meal rush and there were a couple of things she really wanted to ask him.
Reaching the landing, she paused to catch her breath. She wasn’t looking forward to the conversation. She thought she knew Dan well enough to tell when he was lying, but he’d lied to her about the graze on his cheek, so she had to wonder what else he had lied about.
She didn’t want to even think of the answer to that one. No matter what he had or hadn’t said, she couldn’t imagine him ever killing anyone.
She briefly closed her eyes. The vision was strong. She could see Dan creeping across the lawn, candlestick raised above his head, ready to strike. There was Ian, standing by the pond with his back to him, unaware that he was about to die. Dan crept closer and closer, until he was right behind him. He raised his arm and-
A door opened suddenly, close by. It shattered the vision and Gertie started, jerking the sweeper toward her and stubbing her toe. “Bugger!” She stared at the young girl emerging from the guest room. “Mabel! What the bloody hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the dining room getting the tables ready for dinner.”
Mabel dug her hands into the pockets of her apron. “M-Mrs. Chubb sent me up here. The lady wanted different pillows on the bed. She said the ones she had were too flat.”
“Oh.” Still distracted by the horrible vision hovering in her head, Gertie waved her arm at the stairs. “Well, you’d better get down there and work on them tables. Pansy’s probably having a fit being all by herself.”
“All right.” Mabel slipped past her and bolted for the stairs.
Shaking her head, Gertie started rehearsing what she was going to say to Dan. All she hoped was that she’d ask the right questions and get the right answers.
Arriving back at the Pennyfoot, Cecily was filled with renewed purpose. If she was to solve this murder, she needed to put more effort into the investigation. She was well aware that her reluctance to act so far had been caused by her concern that the killer might well be someone close to her. She could not afford to dither around any longer.
After taking care of a few tasks waiting for her on her desk, she sent for Clive. There were questions that needed to be answered.
How she hated the thought that Clive might be Ian’s killer. She had always thought of him as being a quiet, private man, with a past that weighed heavily on his conscience. She just couldn’t imagine him being violent toward anyone, yet he had apparently removed Ian from the premises, and if Cecily knew anything about Ian Rossiter, it was that he wouldn’t have gone without a fight.
So apprehensive was she about the forthcoming exchange she jumped violently when the knock came on the door. She took a moment to compose herself before calling out, “Come in!”
Clive ambled into the room, his face a mask of tension. He obviously had a great deal on his mind, and Cecily wondered if perhaps this was the wrong time to question his recent activities.
“Sit down, Clive.” She gestured at the empty chair across from her and waited for him to comply.
His forehead was wrinkled with anxiety when he looked at her, but he remained silent, waiting for her to speak to him first.
Cecily wished now she’d rehearsed what she wanted to ask him. Her heart thumped uncomfortably against her ribs, and her mouth felt dry.
