She looked up as the door opened and smiled at Clive as he walked toward her.
“Here.” He held out his hand. “Let me take that down for you. You must be anxious to get back to the children.”
She pulled a face. “I don’t know about anxious. They’re so wild with excitement it will take them hours to settle down to sleep.”
He grinned. “Just tell them Father Christmas won’t come until they fall asleep.”
“I usually do.” She handed him the tray. “Doesn’t always work.”
“They’ll grow up so fast. You’ll miss these days.”
“Yeah, I know.” She looked up at him. “You like children, don’t you?”
“Yes, very much.” He gave her one of his disturbing looks. “Children are what make life worthwhile.”
“Did you never get married?”
“I was married once.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
She wanted to ask him if he had children, but was afraid it might upset him. Deciding it was time to change the subject, she said quickly, “Madam must be so grateful to you.”
Now he looked wary. “Why?”
“She told Mrs. Chubb what happened, and Chubby told me. She said you rushed in her office and punched the daylights out of that horrible man. He would have killed her if you hadn’t been there.”
Clive shrugged. “I just happened to get there first. Mr. Baxter and the doctor were right behind me, and the constable was there, too.”
“Well, I’m proud to know you, Clive Russell.” She looked up at him. “Thank you for being so good to my twins. They really like you.”
“I like them, too.” He looked at her for a long moment, then carried the tray over to the door.
“Here, I’ll open it for you.” She hurried over to him and opened the door. “Thanks for taking the tray down.”
“My pleasure.” He inclined his head, gesturing for her to go first.
She brushed past him, and stepped out into the corridor. “Happy Christmas, Clive.”
He nodded at her. “Happy Christmas, Gertie.”
She was halfway down the hallway when he called out after her. “What about you?”
She stopped and looked back. “What about me?”
“You said the twins like me.”
His grin brought a glow in her cheeks. “I like you, too, Clive.”
A few moments later she opened the door of her room to find the twins waiting for her. Her heart still ached for Dan, and probably would for a long time to come. In another week he would be gone, and she would be alone again.
Well, not quite alone. She had her babies, and the Pennyfoot family. The memory of Clive’s shy smile warmed her again. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad Christmas after all.
“That was a very narrow escape tonight,” Baxter said, sternly, as he closed the door to their suite. “Much too close for comfort.”
Cecily had to agree. Seated in front of her dresser, her legs still trembled every time she thought about that knife in Sir Walter’s hand. “Kevin said he thinks Sir Walter has a brain tumor. It makes people do all sorts of things they’d never dream of doing normally.”
“Including mass murders?”
Cecily sighed. “I must admit, it was rather extreme. I feel so sorry for Lady Esmeralda. I saw her leave with Sam Northcott. I could tell she was in a state of supreme shock.” She stared at her husband’s image in the mirror. “Speaking of Sam, how did the constable come to be here tonight?”
“The operator rang him.”
“Operator?”
“Yes. Apparently you took the telephone off its hook to ring someone, and didn’t put it back until some time later. The operator was listening to the conversation, realized something was wrong, and rang for Northcott.”
“Good heavens. There are some advantages to having a meddlesome operator after all.”
“Yes, well, Northcott rang Prestwick and asked him to bring him over in the carriage. He thought it would take too long on his bicycle.”
“Ah, so that’s why Kevin was here. But what about Clive? How did he happen to be there at just the right moment?”
“He was looking for you when he saw Northcott arrive. He came and told me and we reached your office just in time to hear the crash on your door. Northcott and Prestwick were farther down the hallway, but we all made a dash for the door. Clive was the first one to go in and he took the blighter down.”
“How very courageous of him. He saved my life.”
Baxter looked offended. “I would have done the same had I arrived there first.”
“I know you would, dear.” Cecily smiled at him. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve saved me from the hands of a killer.”
“Well, I certainly hope it’s the last.” He walked over to her and sat down beside her on the stool. “So what made you suspect Sir Walter?”
“Remember the handkerchief I found?”
“With the R.M. initials?”
Cecily nodded. “His wife must have noticed blood on his finger. He told her he cut it, and she gave him her handkerchief to cover it. The initials stand for Rosewood Manor. Ellie’s mother told me that Ellie worked there when she was in London.
“Sir Walter mentioned Rosewood when he was talking about the carol singers. That’s when I realized that Sir Walter must have been well acquainted with Ellie.”
“That wouldn’t necessarily mean he killed her.”
“No, of course not, but then I started thinking about the photographs.”
Baxter looked puzzled. “What do they have to do with anything?”
Cecily removed the string of pearls from her neck and laid them in their velvet-lined box. “Sir Walter told you his valet had forgot to pack his white tie, which is why he asked to borrow one of yours for the ball.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well, I knew he had to be wearing a white tie the night before at the banquet. I surely would have noticed if he hadn’t.
“Which made me wonder what had happened to that tie. Just to make sure, I looked at the photographs. There is a very clear image of him wearing a white bow tie. There had to be a reason why he lied about it.”
Baxter’s frown deepened. “Why
“He couldn’t wear his own tie because there was a bloodstain on it. He had blood on his hand after tearing Ellie’s necklace from her neck, and must have touched his tie. It’s a silk tie, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to remove the stains, so he asked to borrow one from you.”
“How did you know all that?”
“I didn’t.” Cecily began unpinning her hair. “I knew there had to be a good reason why he wasn’t wearing his own tie, so I thought if I could find it, I might find evidence that would convict him. So I searched his room.”
Baxter closed his eyes with a groan. “I might have guessed. So that’s where you found the tie and the necklace. Still, it wasn’t much for you to take such a chance. After all, he could have simply mislaid the tie.”
“Perhaps, but I also remembered that Samuel had a nasty streak of black on his coat. He said he got it from cleaning one of the cars. He also mentioned that the car was extremely dirty. I realized it could have been coal dust from Ellie’s body. Whoever killed her would have had to find some way of taking her into the woods.”
“How did you know it was Sir Walter’s car?”
She smiled. “A simple process of elimination. There are only three cars in the stables. One belongs to Mr. Mortimer, or rather, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle-” She broke off with a gasp. “I really must get his autograph before he leaves.”
