might help us figure out who killed him?”
Gloria lifted her shoulders and let them drop. “Nothing. I wish I did know something, but I don’t.”
“Very well.” Cecily got to her feet. “Thank you, Gloria, for telling me the truth.”
“Yes, m’m. I should have done it before, I know, but I was scared I’d be blamed.”
“That’s all right. It’s understandable, under the circumstances.” Cecily moved to the door and opened it. “But I hope you know that if you are in trouble, or need to talk to someone, you can always come to me. I’m very good at keeping confidences.”
A thin smile washed across the other woman’s face. “Thank you, m’m. You’re very kind. I’ll remember that in future.”
Cecily gave her a few minutes to reach the dining room before following her. Going over their conversation, and what she knew so far, she could now piece together the events of that night.
Ian had come to the kitchen door demanding to see the twins. Gertie had refused. Clive had arrived on the scene and removed Ian, who had then gone down the pub. Dan had come to see Gertie a little later, learned of the quarrel, and gone down the pub to have it out with Ian.
After they’d fought, Ian had returned to the Pennyfoot, followed by Gloria. Ian had met Gertie by the coal shed and she’d locked him in. Gloria had then let him out, quarreled with him, and gone home without him. Gertie had given Clive the key, but by the time Clive got to the coal shed, Ian had gone.
Where? Who had really been the last one to see Ian alive? Ian must have met up with someone else after Gloria had left. Was it Dan, come back to finish the fight? Had Clive lied about Ian being gone when he got back to the coal shed? Or was Gloria not telling the truth when she said she’d left Ian alive and well?
Cecily sighed. Her head ached with the questions, theories, and possible scenarios. All these people involved with that night, all of them with a motive. This had to be the most puzzling murder she’d ever come across.
“Mrs. B.!”
Snatched out of her thoughts, Cecily came to an abrupt halt. Archie Parker stood before her, his nose quivering. “Yes, Mr. Parker. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I’d like a quick word with you, if I may?” Archie looked over his shoulder. “I won’t keep you a minute.”
Cecily looked longingly at the dining room door, so close and yet so far. By now Baxter would be seated and impatiently waiting for her. “Very well, Mr. Parker, but it will have to be just a minute or two. I have an urgent appointment.”
“Yes, yes. I swear I won’t take long.” He looked down the empty corridor and beckoned to her. “Perhaps if we move down here no one will hear us.”
Immediately on guard, Cecily reluctantly followed him down the hallway.
Archie paused in front of the broom closet, and gave her a toothy smile. “I was just wondering… ah… how many extra people did you hire for the Christmas season?”
Cecily straightened her back. “What concern is that of yours, may I ask?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.” Archie’s face once again took on that strange transformation. “Just answer the question, please.”
Taken aback, Cecily glared at him. “I must say, I do not appreciate your tone, Mr. Parker. In fact, if anyone should be asking questions, I should be the one asking you.”
Archie drew himself up and squared his shoulders. His entire personality seemed to change from a nervous little weakling to a decisive and somewhat intimidating superior. “Ask ahead, Mrs. B. I’ll be happy to answer.”
Nervous now, she fought to keep her voice calm and unemotional. “What exactly is your interest in my staff?”
Archie glanced once more down the hallway, then lowered his voice. “I must ask you to promise that anything I say to you will not be repeated. To anyone. Is that clear?”
Cecily hesitated, reluctant to make a promise she knew she couldn’t keep.
“It is the only way you will get answers to your questions, and what I have to say may benefit us both.”
That was just too promising to ignore. “I’ll do my best to keep whatever you say to myself.”
For a moment Archie’s keen gaze raked her face, then he nodded. “Very well. I’m not a salesman. I have no knowledge of medical remedies whatsoever.”
Deflated, Cecily frowned. “I knew that already.”
“Yes, but you don’t know what I really am.” He looked both ways, leaned toward her and muttered, “I’m a private investigator.”
Cecily felt her jaw slacken. “A what?”
“Private investigator. Somewhat like yourself, I suspect, only I do it for a living.”
“Oh, my.” Cecily stepped back and leaned against the wall. “I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t. I’m good at my job.”
“Are you investigating Mr. Rossiter’s murder? I thought that was a matter for the constabulary.”
“Well, I have a certain vested interest in the case.” Archie patted his vest pocket, then pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Extracting one, he stuck it between his lips and went on talking. “Actually I’d been keeping an eye on Rossiter for some time in London. I knew he was fencing stolen goods, you see.”
Cecily uttered a shocked gasp. “Ian? Are you quite certain?”
“Oh, yes.” Archie pulled out a box of matches from his trousers pocket and opened it. Taking one out, he struck it and held the flame to his cigarette. “About a month ago, a robbery took place at a distinguished client’s mansion. I’m not at liberty to divulge the name of the client, but I can tell you he is a prominent citizen of London.”
Cecily, still grappling with the idea of Ian being a professional criminal, waited for him to go on.
Archie puffed on his cigarette, then waved the match in the air until the flame went out. “There had been a string of robberies in the vicinity, and the police hadn’t had any luck finding the culprits, so this client hired me to find the thieves and return his jewels if possible.”
“I see,” Cecily said faintly. “And you think Ian was part of the gang?”
“Not sure about that part. He might have been working independently as a fence.” Archie looked around for somewhere to deposit the spent match. “In any case, when I heard from one of my sources that Rossiter had attempted to fence a large haul of jewelry, I suspected he might be connected to the thieves. So I made the acquaintance of Mrs. Gloria Johnson, as a salesman of medicinal remedies. Luckily for me, she suffers from headaches, and I was able to convince her that my special elixir would cure them.” He smiled, preening a little. “It’s amazing what the power of the mind can do to heal ailments.”
Cecily thought of Madeline, then dismissed the thought. There was a world of difference between Madeline’s special powers and this imposter’s fake cures.
“Anyway,” Archie said, still waving the burned out match in the air, “Mrs. Johnson and I became familiar enough that she let slip a few things. Such as the fact that they were moving down here to Badgers End, and that her husband used to work at the Pennyfoot when it was a hotel.”
Spotting a large potted aspidistra, he walked over, dropped the match into the pot, and sauntered back to Cecily. “Now where was I? Ah yes. Well, according to my source, the stolen jewels that Rossiter had tried to fence were too hot to get rid of safely, so he was advised to hang on to them until things cooled down. When his wife told me they were moving, I guessed he’d decided to keep the jewels for himself, and was leaving town so that the gang couldn’t find him and get them back.”
Cecily grasped her throat. “Ian was running away from a gang of criminals?”
“That’s what I believe.” He winked at Cecily. “What better place to sell off really valuable jewelry than to the guests of the Pennyfoot Country Club? It has quite a remarkable reputation in London, you know.”
“Yes,” Cecily said, her voice still faint with shock. “I had heard.”
“Yes, well, it’s well known that many aristocrats enjoy a visit to the country club, and I believe that Rossiter decided there would be opportunities for him to get rid of the jewels. Besides, it was a good place to hide.”
“But he was working in the butcher’s shop and living in the flat above. Why would he do that if he had all that money?”
“Ah.” Archie nodded. “It’s my belief that he left London with nothing but the jewels. That way it would take longer for the thieves to realize he was gone. He had to live somewhere until he could sell the loot, so he took the job at the butcher’s to tide him over.”
Cecily passed a hand over her forehead. “I’m still having trouble believing all this. Did Gloria know her husband was involved in all this criminal activity?”
