“Amen.” Baxter rose. “Shouldn’t say this, but I can’t say I’m sorry to see the back of that man. Nothing but trouble, that’s all he was.”
With her finger Cecily traced the Pennyfoot’s name on the cover of the ledger in front of her. “I agree Ian caused poor Gertie a lot of heartache, but I can’t forget what he was like when he worked here all those years ago. He was amusing, hardworking, and loyal. That’s the Ian I like to remember and for that reason, I feel very sad that he’s gone.”
Baxter moved over to the desk and leaned his hands on the polished surface. “That young man departed a long time ago. He’s not the same man who tried to kidnap our goddaughter and threatened Gertie on more than one occasion.”
“No, indeed. I wonder what could have happened to him to change him so?” She looked up into her husband’s face. “I wonder if there’s someone we should notify of his death? He must have family somewhere.”
Baxter shook his head. “Let Prestwick take care of all that. Try to put this out of your head, my precious. You have enough to worry about making sure your guests enjoy their Christmas. I don’t want this to spoil your favorite time of year.”
“I suppose so.”
“By the way, how’s that new footman, what’s his name, getting along?”
Recognizing that he’d deliberately changed the subject, Cecily smiled. “Sidney Barrett? All right, I suppose. I haven’t had any complaints. He seems a friendly young man, very eager to please. I was surprised how much he knew about the Pennyfoot’s staff. He obviously did his homework before applying for a position here.”
“Good.” Baxter straightened. “It’s hard to find good servants these days.”
“It certainly is. We are so lucky to have good people to work for us.” Cecily glanced at the door. “I wonder what’s keeping those men. I told Clive to report back to me once they had hidden Ian’s body in the stables.”
Just as she spoke a light tap on the door answered her. At her summons the two men entered. Clive wore a worried frown that darkened his rugged features, while Samuel, her young stable manager, kept shaking his head, as if he still couldn’t believe what had happened.
“That were a close one,” Samuel said, scratching the back of his head. “Right after Mr. Baxter left, one of the guests came into the stables and started up his motorcar. One of the horses got spooked when the motor backfired and just missed giving Clive a nasty kick in the head.”
Cecily looked at her maintenance man in alarm. “Clive! Are you all right?”
“Yes, m’m. Quite all right. Shook me up a bit, but more because I thought the bloke would see us hiding the corpse under the straw.”
Hearing Ian referred to in such a callous way made Cecily shudder. She still couldn’t reconcile a lifeless body with the lively young man who had once been so much part of the Pennyfoot family.
It was a sad business, and couldn’t have happened at a worse time. No matter how hard everyone tried to keep Ian’s death a secret, she had no doubt that word would eventually get out. Once more she would be faced with the task of maintaining a cheerful, joyous atmosphere for the guests in the midst of tragedy.
Such was the Christmas curse of the Pennyfoot country club, and it had descended on them once more.
CHAPTER 3
“So what happened? Why did madam want to see you? Are you in trouble over something?” Pansy’s eyes gleamed with speculation as she peered up at Gertie. “Go on, you might as well tell me, ’cos if you don’t I’ll ask Samuel. He knows everything what goes on here and he’ll tell me.”
Piling up the dirty dishes on the dumbwaiter, Gertie sniffed. “Don’t be too bloody sure of that. How’s that new maid, Mabel, working out, anyway?”
“Don’t change the subject.” Pansy balanced a tray of milk jugs on top of the dishes and tugged the rope. The waiter jerked, rattling the dishes, then descended out of sight to the kitchen below. “I want to know why madam sent for you.”
“It’s none of your bleeding business.”
“I thought we was friends.”
“We are, it’s just…” Gertie paused to take a deep breath, then turned to the other girl. “If I tell you, will you promise to keep your flipping mouth shut and not tell a soul? Madam will have my hide if she thinks I blurted out the news all over the club.”
Pansy’s face lit up with excitement. “What news? Is it something good?”
Gertie shook her head, wiping the smile from Pansy’s face. “What then? Tell me!”
Gertie leaned forward and whispered, “There’s been an accident.”
Now there was nothing but fear in Pansy’s eyes. “An accident? Not Samuel, is it? Please…” She tugged at Gertie’s sleeve. “Please tell me it’s not Samuel.”
Gertie puffed out her breath. “I don’t know why you waste your feelings on that man. He treats you like dirt.”
“He does not!” Pansy drew herself up, which wasn’t very far. “He’s a good man, our Samuel. He’s just not… well, he’s not…”
“Reliable?”
“Romantic!” Pansy glared at her. “What do you know, anyway? You’ve been going out with that Dan Perkins for more than a year and you still don’t know if he’s going to ask you to marry him.”
Gertie tossed her head. “Who says I want to marry him, anyway?”
“Well, don’t you?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“So did Samuel have an accident or not?”
“No. You can keep your bloody hair on. It wasn’t Samuel.”
“Well, who was it then?”
Gertie was about to tell her when Mabel staggered toward them, her tray loaded down with china tureens and bowls that looked as if they would all cascade to the floor and smash into smithereens at any minute.
“Bloody heck.” Gertie rushed over and took the tray. Mabel had plenty of flesh on her but it was flabby, while Gertie’s stocky build was toned by years of hard, physical work.
Carrying the tray over to the dumbwaiter, Gertie wondered, not for the first time, what kind of work Mabel had been doing before she got the job at the Pennyfoot. It couldn’t have been housemaid work. She was much too soft and sluggish, and it puzzled Gertie why madam had hired someone like that at their busiest time of the year.
The shelf had been raised up again and Gertie dumped the tray on it. Pansy had already disappeared, having gone back to the dining room to finish clearing the tables. Mabel, however, stood staring down the hallway as if she was in a daydream.
Irritated, Gertie spoke sharply. “Have all the tables been cleared, then?”
Mabel started, her fearful eyes focusing on Gertie’s face. Then she shook her head, reminding Gertie of a rabbit she once saw staring into the jaws of a cultivator.
The new maid’s agitation only deepened Gertie’s annoyance. “Well, get a bloody move on then! It’ll be time to lay the tables again before we’ve got the blinking dishes washed up and put away!”
Mabel uttered a little whimper then scuttled away just as Pansy hurried back with another loaded tray. “Don’t yell at her.” She glared at Gertie. “She’s not used to doing all this work. She told me she looked after her grandmother until she died, and then her nephew took all her money, leaving Mabel out in the cold. She’s used to the finer things of life, not working her fingers to the bone like we do.”
Gertie shrugged. “We all have our hard luck stories to tell. She’ll have to get used to it if she wants to keep her bleeding job.”
“Well, you don’t have to be so nasty to her.”
“You’re just cross because I wouldn’t tell you who had the accident.”
Pansy dumped her tray on the waiter. “I don’t care now, anyhow.”
“All right, then I won’t tell you.”
Pansy shrugged, then as Gertie knew she would, turned to her. “Go on. You know you’re dying to tell me.”
