with relief one of the footmen rush in through the front door. It was Sid Barrett, and he appeared to have been running, since he was gasping for breath.
He pulled up with a start when he saw Cecily and Archie Parker. “Oh, excuse me, m’m. I was just coming in to see if you needed me for anything. I’ll be taking my two hours off in a few minutes.”
Cecily had the distinct impression that Sid’s hurried entrance was due to something far more personal than any desire to offer his services. She was vastly relieved to see him, however, whatever the reason for his haste.
“As a matter of fact, Sidney,” she said, giving him a bright smile, “I do have an errand for you.” She turned back to Archie Parker, who once more looked like the fussy little man with whom she was accustomed. “If you will excuse me, Mr. Parker, I have to take care of some business matters.”
“By all means, Mrs. B. Good day to you.” Nose twitching and shoulders hunched, he clambered up the stairs.
Cecily turned back to Sid, just in time to see resentment burning his face.
His expression quickly smoothed out when she looked at him. “What can I do for you, m’m?”
Cecily shook her head. “Oh, that’s all right, Sidney. It’s a small matter and I can take care of it myself. Go on and enjoy your afternoon.”
“Yes, m’m. Thank you, m’m.” He touched his forehead with his fingers, but instead of leaving again by the front door, he headed for the kitchen stairs.
Cecily frowned, wondering for the first time why he hadn’t used the tradesmen’s entrance through the kitchen when he came in.
She had far more worries on her mind, however, and now she was in a hurry. She couldn’t wait to get to her suite and discuss the latest developments with her husband.
Baxter looked up as Cecily threw open the door of their suite a few minutes later. “That was a long moment.” He narrowed his gaze, peering at her over the top of his newspaper. “Is something wrong?”
“Everything.” She crossed the room and flung herself onto her favorite chair. “Lady Roslyn informed me that someone has stolen jewelry from her room, and I have just had a most disturbing discussion with Archie Parker.”
Baxter’s newspaper rustled as he slapped it down on his lap. “Stolen? Are you telling me there’s a thief here in the Pennyfoot?”
“I’m afraid so.” Cecily sighed. “Worse, I think it’s one of our staff.”
“Good Lord. Why do you think so?”
“Mrs. Chubb told me that she’d also lost a ring. She thought it had fallen down the kitchen sink, but I’m wondering now if it was stolen. It’s not like her to be so careless.”
Baxter groaned. “That’s all we need. A murderer and a thief running around the Pennyfoot. This place is fast becoming a den of iniquity. I think it’s high time we moved back to London.”
She gave him an unhappy look. “You think that London is free from crime?”
“Of course not. But if we’re living in a decent neighborhood there’s much less chance of it being committed right under our noses.”
Cecily stretched out her legs and regarded the toes of her shoes peeking out from under her skirt. “I used to be so good at solving these puzzles. I must be getting old. I don’t seem to be getting anywhere with Ian’s murder, and now we have something else to worry about.”
“We’ll have to make sure that everyone locks their doors.” Baxter folded his newspaper and stood up. “I’ll arrange for a thorough search of the staff rooms.”
Cecily looked up in alarm. “Oh, I really don’t want to do that. Besides, it could be any of the staff who don’t live in. We hire all this extra help at Christmas and we really don’t know any of them very well. Take that Sidney Barrett, for instance. There’s something about him I just don’t like.”
“Barrett? What about him?”
“I don’t know.” Cecily thought about it. “For one thing, he thinks he’s a lady’s man. I’ve seen him pestering one of the maids, and Gertie has complained about him. I warned him to leave the girls alone. I’d get rid of him if we weren’t so busy.”
“Well, he won’t be here for much longer. Only until the guests leave after New Year’s Day.”
“Then there’s Mabel.” Cecily shook her head. “I feel sorry for that girl but she’s really not a very good worker. I won’t be sorry to see her leave, either.”
“She’ll be gone in a week or two. Then you won’t have to worry about her anymore.”
“Not only that, I found out that Gloria lied about the night Ian was killed, and I need to talk to her about that. I just can’t seem to make any headway on this dratted murder.”
Baxter walked over to her and took her hand. “Poor Cecily. This is turning out to be a trying time for you. I meant what I said, you know. Maybe it’s time we started thinking about going back to London.”
She looked up at him. “You know how I feel about that. The Pennyfoot is our home, the staff is our family. With my sons abroad I have no other family here. I’ll be too lonely in London. We tried it once and I was miserable.”
Baxter sighed and lifted her fingers to his lips. “Yes, I suppose you were. But all the upheaval and misadventures are not exactly making you happy, either.”
She smiled. “They are keeping me alive. In London I was merely existing. Besides, in spite of everything, I do enjoy the challenge.”
He let go of her hand and walked back to his chair. Sitting down, he murmured, “I confess, Cecily, there are times when I just don’t understand you.”
“Perhaps that’s just as well.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”
She laughed. “Only that it makes things interesting, don’t you think?”
He grunted a reply, then retreated behind his newspaper.
Cecily remained silent for a moment, wondering if she should tell him about her encounter with Archie Parker. The more she talked to that odd little man, the more strangely he acted. If it wasn’t for a complete lack of motive, she might have suspected him of killing Ian.
Impatient with herself, she shook her head. She had reached the point where she suspected everyone she met of being a murderer. Yet none of her suspects had convinced her that any one of them was a killer. Perhaps she hadn’t, yet, met the real murderer. It could be someone totally unconnected to the Pennyfoot. One of Ian’s unsavory companions, perhaps.
Still there was the matter of the candlestick, taken from the hallstand and left in Gertie’s room. That suggested an intimate knowledge of the country club.
What she really needed to do, she decided, was find out if anyone else in the Pennyfoot had a motive to attack Ian. How she would go about it would take some thought, and judging from the silence from behind her husband’s newspaper, she had plenty of time to do that.
“What’s the matter with you? You look like you’ve swallowed a bowl of lemons.”
Gertie lifted her head and frowned at Mrs. Chubb. The housekeeper stood on the other side of the kitchen table, busily kneading pastry for the Cornish pasties.
Wary of Michel stirring his vegetable soup at the stove, Gertie murmured, “I was just wondering if I should tell madam something, that’s all.”
“Tell her what?”
Gertie went on folding the serviette, fitted it into a silver holder, then laid it on top of the neat pile on the tray at her side. “Tell her about Sid Barrett.”
Knowing she had aroused Mrs. Chubb’s curiosity, Gertie waited.
Sure enough, after a long pause, the housekeeper raised her voice. “Gertie, I’m going to need some more lard from the pantry.”
“Right away, Mrs. Chubb.” Gertie dropped the next serviette and headed for the pantry.
Seconds later, Mrs. Chubb appeared in the doorway. “What’s taking you so long?” she demanded loudly, then stepped inside and closed the door. Lowering her voice, she muttered, “All right, now what’s all this about Sid Barrett?”
Rapidly Gertie relayed most of what Sid had said to her earlier. “Then Clive came along and chased the bugger off,” she said, when she was done. “That man always manages to turn up at the right time.”
