have to wait until he returns.”
Baxter looked ready to explode into tiny pieces. “And what, pray, are we supposed to do about this dangerous killer in our midst?”
“Well, I suggest you all lock your doors at night.” Northcott nodded at Cecily. “Goodnight, m’m. I will be contacting you just as soon as I’ve heard from the inspector.” He exited, leaving Baxter purple in the face.
“One of these days,” he said, through gritted teeth, “I’m going to take great pleasure in throttling the life out of that idiot.”
“Don’t say that!” Cecily shuddered again. “Not even in jest.”
“Who’s jesting?” Baxter came up to the fireplace, rubbing his hands. Holding them out to the dying embers, he added, “Did you show him that note?”
Cecily gave a guilty start. “No, I didn’t. In all the upheaval, I completely forgot about it.” Seeing Baxter’s skeptical frown, she added, “Since you brought it up, I really didn’t appreciate you telling Kevin about it. Or, for that matter, your tone of voice when you mentioned it.”
Baxter sighed. “My apologies. I was out of sorts.”
“We are all out of sorts, but I manage to remain reasonably civil.”
His expression softened. “You are quite right, my dear. I’m sorry.” He sighed again. “I seem to be apologizing a lot lately.”
“Yes, you do.” She eyed him warily. “Are you ready to tell me what it is you have been keeping from me?”
He put an arm about her shoulders and gave her a light squeeze. “All in good time. Right now we have more than enough to worry about. I must say, I am greatly concerned about that note. I really do think we should have given it to Northcott, if only to escape the inspector’s wrath should he find out we kept it from the constable.”
Appeased by the hug, Cecily leaned into him. “Sam would most likely lose it before it got to Cranshaw. In any case, even if I had given it to him, it wouldn’t have changed anything. He would still have insisted on contacting the inspector first.”
Baxter sighed. “You’re right, I suppose. How that man can call himself a policeman, I don’t know.”
“I do think he’s rather out of his depth this time.”
“He’s always out of his depth, which is the reason my wife takes extreme risks to ferret out these criminals.”
“I’m being very careful, dear.”
“That was before these other two deaths.”
“I’ll still be careful.” She moved closer to the fire. “I take it you no longer believe this is the work of the Mayfair Murderer, either.”
“I don’t know that I ever thought so. I do know that if the chap in room nine wrote the note that Pansy found, he was either clairvoyant or he’s the one who stabbed that poor chap in the neck. Just as he said he would.”
“There is a problem with that theory.”
“How so?”
“The note said he would leave by the window. To do that he would have to leap four floors to the ground.”
Baxter pursed his lips. “Unless he had a ladder.”
“That’s a possibility.” She frowned. “I’ll have Clive take a look under the window tomorrow. Though I still can’t believe a murderer would be foolish enough to write down his plans to kill someone and leave them lying around for anyone to see.”
Baxter studied her face. “You don’t believe this Mortimer chap is the killer.”
“I didn’t say that. I just can’t imagine why he would kill two members of our staff, and then two guests who have absolutely nothing in common with them.”
“The murders certainly don’t appear to be connected in any way.”
Cecily sighed. “Well, there is the kissing bough and that message on the wall. I happen to know that all four victims at some point in time kissed under that bough. As far as I can see, that’s the only connection. Maybe our killer has something against people kissing in public.”
“It’s certainly a consideration. Though again, why didn’t he leave that message with the other bodies?”
“Exactly, which leads me to believe that the message was an afterthought, most likely to throw everyone off track and make it look as if it was the work of the Mayfair Murderer.”
“Clever.” Baxter frowned. “And utterly cold-blooded. Killing innocent people just to throw the constables off the scent? Diabolical.”
Remembering something, Cecily murmured, “I found something else outside the Danvilles’ door.”
Baxter frowned. “And you neglected to mention it?”
“I forgot about it until now.”
“What is it?”
“A lady’s handkerchief.” She was about to tell him about Madeline’s prediction, but thought better of it. Baxter had no time for what he called Madeline’s hocus-pocus. She pushed her fingers into her sleeve and, after a moment of hunting, pulled out the handkerchief. “Look, it has the initials R.M. embroidered on it. Who do we know with those initials?”
Baxter frowned in concentration, then after a moment or two, shook his head. “The only one whose last name starts with
“Exactly what I was thinking. Though why he would carry around one of his wife’s handkerchiefs is beyond me. I must admit, though, he is beginning to look most suspicious. I suppose I should have mentioned all this to Sam Northcott, though he still would have done nothing until his dratted inspector gets back to town.”
“We shall just have to try and keep an eye on the chap until this is over. I’ll have the footmen keep watch on him from now on.”
“As if they don’t have enough to do.” Cecily sighed. “Has Kevin finished his examinations?”
“Yes. He promised he’d ring tomorrow. He was anxious to get his wife and baby home. The baby was making a horrible noise.” He glanced at her. “Are you certain you want the child in the library during the carol singing ceremony? I can’t imagine how anyone can possibly sing carols with that racket going on.”
“Madeline wants to be there. She’s going to be here all day anyway. She’s coming in the morning to bring fresh greens for the ballroom decorations, and she has offered to help us get ready for the ceremony. So she’ll stay here the rest of the day and Kevin will meet her here tomorrow evening.” Cecily headed for the door. “We could certainly use her help, and if that means I have to spend the evening keeping a baby quiet, well, it won’t be the first time.”
He wore such a soulful expression she felt a pang of remorse, though she wasn’t sure why. She paused, looking up at him when he reached her side. “What is it, dear? What did I say?”
“Nothing.” To her pleasant surprise he bent his head and kissed her. “It’s just that I wish we could have had a child of our own.”
She smiled, touched by the sentiment. “We have two wonderful godchildren,” she reminded him. “And they will be home tomorrow, so I hope you have finished all your Christmas shopping.”
He patted her on the shoulder, then opened the door for her. “You know I always leave it until the last minute. After all, that’s why we have Christmas Eve, is it not?”
Cecily shook her head. “You men are incorrigible.”
“Which is precisely why you adore us. Come now, let us get to bed. You have a long day tomorrow, and something tells me it won’t be a pleasant one.”
“Indeed. Four families devastated by loss at Christmastime. How awful. I suppose there’s little hope of keeping all this from the rest of the guests.”
“Unlikely. We shall just have to reassure them as best we can.”
“The only way to do that is to find the killer.” Cecily sighed. “And every moment that feat seems to get farther out of reach.” She led the way down the hallway, deep in thought. If her theory about the killer proved correct, the best way to prevent more murders would be to advertise the fact that the Mayfair Murderer was responsible, thus leading the killer to believe his ruse had worked, and therefore there would be no need for any more deaths.
The problem with that line of thought was that everyone in the building would think a serial killer was on the loose and they could well be the next victims.
It seemed that whichever way she turned, she was doomed. Christmas Eve was tomorrow. All she could do was see that her guests had the best Christmas she could give them, and hope with all her heart that there would
