Although Madeline was used to walking what seemed to Cecily to be impossibly long distances, carrying her rapidly growing daughter around with her had somewhat limited her stamina. Besides which, flakes of snow had begun to float in on the wind, and Madeline had no desire to trudge through a snowstorm.
Cecily had suggested her friend hire a nanny, or at least purchase a perambulator, neither of which Madeline seemed inclined to do. She preferred to use the methods nature dictated, she’d told Cecily. Even if it impaired her ability to travel as much.
She was therefore in Cecily’s suite when Baxter returned from his trip into town. He greeted Madeline with a guarded nod, then turned to his wife. “What the devil is that fool Northcott doing here?”
Cecily rose, dreading having to impart the bad news. “I’m sorry, my love, but I’m afraid one of our footmen has met with an accident.”
“Accident?” Baxter’s brows drew together in a fierce line. “What happened?”
Cecily explained what she knew. “We’re waiting for Kevin to arrive. P.C. Northcott insisted on viewing the body, even though I tried to tempt him with Mrs. Chubb’s mince pies. He seemed most determined.”
“I thought he was off on his annual Christmas visit to relatives.”
“He won’t be going this year. Apparently the relatives have decided to stay with him and his wife for a change.” Cecily sighed. “He’s none too happy with the idea.”
“I can imagine.” Baxter raised his chin and stared at the ceiling. “I leave for one morning and all hell breaks loose. We seem to have been through all this before.”
“I don’t think this had anything to do with your absence, dear.” Cecily laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, Bax. I know it’s terribly distressing, but it does seem to have been an accident this time. Poor Charlie was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s all.”
“If you ask me, it’s a clear case of carelessness on the roofers’ part. They should be held accountable.”
“Yes, dear. I plan to have a word with them just as soon as Kevin has given us his report.”
Baxter stared at her for a moment. “Very well. I have some reports to study. I’ll be in your office if you need me.” He nodded at Madeline again. “Mrs. Prestwick. Beautiful child you have there.”
He was gone before Madeline could respond with more than a surprised, “Thank you!”
“Your husband,” she added, after the door had closed behind him, “can be quite charming when he chooses.”
Staring after him, Cecily murmured, “Quite. He even surprises me sometimes.” Baxter rarely brought work home from the office, and never at Christmastime. Perhaps whatever was worrying him had to do with his business. She would be sure to ask him at the earliest opportunity.
Just then a light tap on the door startled her. “I hope that’s Kevin.” Cecily hurried to open it, and stepped back as a short, stocky man in a constable’s uniform dragged his helmet from his head.
“It’s me again, m’m.”
“Yes, so I see.” She beckoned for the constable to enter, then followed him into the room.
He waited for her to sit down before taking a seat himself. “I ’ave h’examined the body,” he said, adopting the pompous tone he used to deliver official business. “It seems clear to me what happened.” He paused with an expectant look, waiting for her reaction.
Knowing he would not continue until she had practically begged for information, Cecily took a deep breath. “Do tell me,” she said, trying not to sound irritated. “Exactly what do you think happened?”
The constable looked immensely pleased with himself. “Well, it went like this, m’m. The gargoyle was either blown off the roof by the wind, or it slipped off of its own accord and fell, where it landed on the head of Charles Baker, who, I believe, was one of your footmen ’ere at the Pennyfoot.”
“That’s correct,” Cecily said solemnly.
“Right. Ah…” He paused, fumbled in the breast pocket of his uniform, dragged out a notebook, and flipped it open. “The blow most likely killed him, so I’m putting this down as h’an accident. Should the doctor find anything untoward, which I’m not expecting, I shall investigate further. Otherwise the case is closed.”
Relief caused Cecily to rush her words. “Thank you, Sam. I shall make arrangements to have the body collected by Charlie’s next of kin just as soon as Dr. Prestwick arrives. Now, if you’d like to have some refreshment in the kitchen, I’m sure Mrs. Chubb will oblige.”
The words were hardly out of her mouth before the constable had spluttered his good-byes and disappeared out the door.
“Well,” Cecily murmured, “we do know how to get rid of him when needs be.” She turned to Madeline, expecting to see an answering smile, and instead, encountered an expression on her friend’s face she knew well. Madeline sat staring into space, her features transformed into stone.
Cecily sank down on her chair, knowing there was nothing she could do until Madeline came out of her trance. For long, anxious moments she waited, until Angelina, apparently unnerved by the tense silence, let out a howl of protest.
Madeline blinked, focused for a moment on Cecily’s face, then leaned over to pick up her squalling baby. “Hush, now, little one,” she murmured, rocking Angelina back and forth until the crying subsided.
“You saw something,” Cecily said, as peace was restored to the quiet room.
Reaching into the bag at her side, Madeline pulled out a soft cloth and dabbed at her daughter’s wet cheeks. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I did. I’m sorry, Cecily, but I’m afraid P.C. Northcott is wrong. Your footman’s death was no accident. He was murdered.”
CHAPTER 4
Cecily briefly closed her eyes. “I knew it. The moment Gertie walked into the room this morning I felt certain it would turn out to be murder. What did you see? Do you know what happened?”
Madeline straightened the baby’s bonnet, which had slid sideways over her face. “Not much that would be of help, I’m afraid. All I could see was the figure of a man standing on the roof, with his hands raised over his head. He was holding a gargoyle.”
“That could have been one of the roofers working up there. Perhaps the gargoyle slipped out of his hands and he’s afraid to tell anyone.”
“It didn’t slip, Cecily.” Madeline rested her baby’s head on her shoulder. “It was deliberately thrown, and in great anger, I would say.”
Cecily collapsed against the back of her chair. “Well, that’s it, then. For heaven’s sake, don’t tell anyone else. Not yet, at least. The last thing I need is Sam Northcott snooping around here again.”
“We’ll have to see what Kevin says.” Madeline settled the baby more comfortably on her lap. “If he so much as smells foul play, you know he’ll go straight to the constabulary.”
She had barely finished speaking when a knock on the door brought up their heads. Putting a finger to her lips in warning, Cecily walked over to the door and opened it.
The tall, handsome man framed in the doorway smiled at her. “Cecily, my dear. How very nice to see you, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Do come in, Kevin. Your wife and daughter are waiting for you.”
“Ah, I wondered if they would still be here.” Kevin Prestwick strode into the room, dropped a kiss on his wife’s forehead, and patted his daughter’s cheek. Turning to Cecily, he added, “Jolly bad luck about your footman. He must have been passing under the roof when the gargoyle fell. A second or two earlier or later and he’d still be alive. Must have been his time to go.”
Avoiding Madeline’s gaze, Cecily concentrated on the doctor. “Dreadful shame. His family will be devastated.”
“Well, these things happen, unfortunately. This is an old building, and there’s bound to be pieces falling off it now and then. Especially if you have workmen scrambling all over the roof. I’ll be happy to take care of the arrangements for the body, if you like. I assume you have the address for the lad’s family?”
“Oh, would you?” Cecily clasped her hands together in front of her. “That would be such a help. I’d like to keep this from the guests if possible.”
“Of course. I understand.” Kevin turned to his wife and plucked the baby from her lap. “Now, I have to get back
