Decked with Folly (17 page)

“Yes, well, that weren’t the worst of it.”

Eyeing her warily, Cecily waited for her to continue.

“She said Dan was fighting with Ian down the pub that night,” Gertie burst out at last.

“Oh, I see.” Cecily paused, wondering how much to tell her. “Actually, I had heard that from someone else.”

“Who?” Gertie leaned forward, eyes blazing. “Well, they was wrong. My Dan wouldn’t—” She broke off, her eyes growing wide. “Oh, bugger.”

Cecily waited.

Gertie fidgeted around for several seconds, before saying carefully, “If I tell you something, m’m, can you promise not to tell the constable?”

“I wish I could.” Cecily sighed, “I’m sorry, Gertie. We are dealing with a murder here. After all, someone brutally hit Ian over the head and killed him. I can’t promise to keep important information from the police. I think you’d better tell me what you know, or you could end up in a great deal of trouble.”

“If I’m not already.” Gertie stared gloomily at her knees. “It’s just that, well, I was out with Dan last night and he had this graze on the side of his face. He said he had an accident in the car, but I couldn’t see no mark on the car but he said he’d rubbed it out, but then Gloria said he was fighting and . . .” She paused for breath.

“You think he might have got the graze from the fight,” Cecily finished for her.

Gertie nodded, her face a sea of misery. “That doesn’t mean he killed him, though, does it. I saw Ian later that night and he had a black eye. Gloria said Dan gave it to him. But then if I saw him after the fight was over it could have been anyone what killed him. It doesn’t have to be Dan.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I just can’t help wondering why he didn’t tell me about the fight.”

“Most likely he didn’t want to upset you.”

Gertie was silent for a moment, then muttered, “Yeah, that was probably it.”

Cecily folded her hands on the desk. “How did Gloria know that Dan and Ian had been fighting?”

Gertie looked startled. “What?”

“Or that Ian had a black eye? Gloria told me that when Ian left her at the cottage to go to the George and Dragon, she went to bed. She said that was the last time she saw him. So I’m wondering how she knew he’d been fighting with Dan and received a black eye.”

“I don’t know.” Gertie pondered the question. “She must have been lying about going to bed. Perhaps she went down the pub to look for him and someone down there told her.”

“That’s possible. But then why would she lie about it?” Cecily glanced at the clock. “While we’re on the subject, is there a reason why you didn’t tell me earlier that Ian came back again later that evening?”

Gertie looked surprised. “I didn’t?” She thought about it. “Oh, well, I was going to, but Gloria walked in while we was talking and I never got a chance to tell you the rest.”

She was right, Cecily realized. Gloria had interrupted their conversation. “Well, why don’t you tell me the rest of the story now.”

Gertie heaved a sigh. “All right. I might as well. Nothing is a bloody secret around here, anyway. Sorry, m’m.”

Cecily smiled. “Go on.” She settled back, eager to hear Gertie’s side of the story. Perhaps now she’d get some of the answers that kept eluding her and they’d help clear up some of her suspicions.

“Well, it was like this,” Gertie said. “As I told you before, Ian came to the back door demanding to see the twins. I told him he couldn’t see them. He got nasty and that’s when I picked up the knife. I was hoping to scare him off. Then Clive turned up and took him away.” Gertie shuddered. “I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t got there right then.”

“Then it’s just as well that he did. So what happened after that?”

“Well, like I said, Dan came over and we talked a bit. I told him what happened and he was pretty cross.” Gertie shook her head. “He must have gone down the pub after that and had it out with Ian.”

“Well, then—” Cecily broke off as something popped into her mind. Her conversation with Mrs. Chubb.
I went back about half past seven to send Gertie down to the wine cellar.

Gertie looked worried. “Yes, m’m?”

“I was just thinking about something.” Cecily paused, then said abruptly, “I understand Mrs. Chubb sent you down to the wine cellar that night.”

Gertie’s frown deepened. “Yes, m’m. She wanted me to bring up a case of wine.”

“Did you happen to see Clive down there while you were there?”

Gertie looked surprised. “No, m’m. I didn’t.” She fidgeted her feet, staring down at them as if she’d never seen them before.

So Clive had lied about where he was that evening. Cecily was getting a very bad feeling about the maintenance man. So far she had resisted the possibility of him being involved, but there were just too many lies and evasions about that night for her to rule him out.

Much as she hated to admit it, the circumstances seemed to point rather strongly in his direction.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Gertie sounded worried, and Cecily forced her mind back to the subject at hand. “It’s nothing important. Now, where were we? You said that Ian came back here later that night, after you went to the wine cellar?”

“Yes. It was just before nine o’clock. I went out to fill the coal scuttle ’cos I knew Michel was coming back to take his puddings out the oven at nine and he’d raise merry hell if he saw the scuttle was empty.”

“Yes, Michel told me he came back here to take out the puddings.”

Gertie raised a hand to sweep the stray hair from her eyes. “Yes, well, I was opening the coal shed door when Ian came up behind me. I could smell his breath from where I stood. I knew he’d had a bellyful of beer. I could see the black eye and I thought he’d been in a fight, and I could tell he was really angry and upset.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“He grabbed my arm.” Gertie rubbed a spot above her elbow. “I got a bruise there now.”

“So what happened next?”

“Well, he was snarling at me, threatening me with all kinds of terrible things if I didn’t let him see the twins. I could see he was in a rage and he scared me. I tried to tell him they was asleep and he’d frighten them if he woke them up, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Gertie shuddered, and Cecily waited while she struggled to compose herself. “Anyway,” she went on, “I got angry, too, and I shoved him. Hard. Being drunk and all he staggered a bit and tripped over the step. He fell backwards into the coal shed and I locked him in. I thought I’d leave him there until he cooled down a bit.”

Cecily raised her eyebrows. “You locked Ian in the coal shed?”

“Yes, m’m.” Gertie looked anxious. “Only for a few minutes. I went back to the kitchen and I was going to ask Michel to let him out when he got here, but then Clive came to the door. He’d heard the shouting from across the yard and wanted to know if I was all right.”

Cecily took a moment to digest Gertie’s tumbling words. Clive had not mentioned one word of this to her. She had to wonder why.

“So I asked him to let Ian out,” Gertie went on, with just a slight tremor in her voice. “I gave him the key, but when he came back he said Ian had climbed out the window and was gone.” She looked up, her eyes glistening with tears. “He always comes to my rescue, Clive does. He’s a good man.”

Cecily felt a cold chill run down her back as she met Gertie’s gaze. She knew what she was thinking. What they were both thinking. It wouldn’t have taken too much time for Clive to go into the foyer and take the candlestick. Perhaps thinking to protect himself.

He could have opened the shed door, and when Ian charged at him, hit him over the head. Then dragged him to the pond and left him there before bringing back the key.

Cecily cleared her throat. “How much time do you think passed after giving Clive the key, until he brought it back?”

Gertie dropped her gaze. “I don’t know. I took the clean serviettes up to the dining room after I gave Clive the key. I wanted to save time in the morning. By the time I got back to the kitchen, Clive had put the key on the table and left.”

She frowned. “I was gone quite a while. I went by the library and saw a strange flickering light under the door.” She flicked a nervous glance at Cecily. “It was Mabel. She’d lit every candle on the Christmas tree.”

Cecily felt the shiver all over her body. “Oh, good heavens.”

“I know. She wanted to see how it looked. I helped her blow them all out, and then . . . I . . . went . . .”

Cecily looked at her in surprise as her words gradually trailed off. Her face seemed to be set in stone and there was such horror in her eyes Cecily felt a jolt of fear herself. “Gertie?”

The housemaid swallowed, and seemed to make an effort to focus on her face. “Dan,” she whispered. “He came back here. I never saw him, but he must have come back here. He told me he saw the candles in the window. That must have been about the time Ian was—” She gulped, unable to finish.

Cecily clenched her fingers. “All right, Gertie. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

Gertie’s frightened eyes pleaded with her. “Why would he come back here that late? Why didn’t he come to see me? Why didn’t he tell me he came back? Why didn’t he tell me about the fight?”

“I wish I had the answers.” Cecily got up and walked around the desk. “I do know one thing. It doesn’t help to try and guess what happened. We just have to have faith in the people we know and trust, and eventually the truth will come out.”

Gertie shook her head. “I don’t know who to trust anymore, m’m. Honest I don’t.”

Cecily patted her shoulder. “Try not to worry about it all now, Gertie. You have two little ones who are really excited about Christmas, and we don’t want to spoil things for them with all our questions and suspicions, do we. I promise you I will look into everything and try to get some answers, but in the meantime, you go and enjoy what little time you have with the twins, and try to put all this out of your mind.”

Gertie heaved a heavy sigh and shoved herself up from the chair. “I’ll do me best, m’m, but it ain’t going to be bloody easy.”

Cecily smiled, though it was the last thing she felt like doing. “I know you’ll manage just fine. You’re bringing them to the pantomime tonight, aren’t you?”

“Yes, m’m. They’re really excited about it. Though the way things are going I wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs. Fortescue blows up the ballroom or something.”

Cecily winced. “Don’t even think it.”

“No, m’m. Thank you, m’m.” Gertie dropped a curtsey then trudged to the door. She had almost reached it when she paused, then spun around. “Oh, I almost forgot, what with everything else going on.” She paused again, looked as if she was about to say something, then apparently changed her mind. “Never mind, m’m. I’ll take care of it.”

Sensing that something else was troubling her housemaid, Cecily felt compelled to pursue the matter. “Take care of what, Gertie?”

“It’s . . . well, I don’t like to tell tales and all, but . . .”

With infinite patience, Cecily waited.

“Well, it’s that Sid Barrett.” The rest of her words came out in a rush. “He’s making a nuisance of himself, m’m. I mean, he keeps getting in our way, chatting us up, trying to get a rise out of us. I think he’s bothering the other girls, too, from what I hear.”

Cecily sighed. She had suspected as much. She might have known the new footman was too good to be true. “Thank you, Gertie, for letting me know. I’ll see that Sidney behaves himself in future.”

“Yes, m’m. Thank you, m’m.” She looked anxious. “I don’t want to get him into trouble or anything. I just want him to stop bothering us.”

“I’ll take care of it, Gertie.”

“Thank you, m’m. Then I’ll get back to me work.” Reaching the door, she looked back. “I just hope we get all this sorted out in the next day or two, or this could be the worst Christmas I ever spent at the Pennyfoot.”

As Cecily watched the door close behind her, she was inclined to agree.

 

 

 

Gertie walked slowly back to the foyer, her brain buzzing with questions. She needed to see Dan in the worst way. She needed answers, reassurance from him. Yet there was no way of knowing if he would tell her the truth.

What would she do if she found out that he’d killed Ian? She’d just about die, that’s what. She couldn’t imagine going on without him. Yet she’d have to, for the sake of her twins.

How could she get through Christmas, pretending to be happy and excited when all the time all this turmoil was going on inside her mind?

They had to find out what really happened. Even if it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. It was the not knowing that was killing her.

Deep in thought, she reached the foyer, then jerked to a halt as a short, bald-headed man stepped into her path. Recognizing Archibald Parker, she did her best to look pleasant. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes, yes, I hope so.” Archie glanced around the foyer, as if looking for someone, but the only person visible was Philip, the clerk, half hidden behind the reception desk. “I . . . had a word with Mrs. B. about this, and I thought I’d mention it to you, as well.” His nose twitched violently, and his mustache seemed to dance in unison as he gazed at her. “I would like a bed warmer in my bed tonight.”

Gertie frowned, wondering if he was being fresh, or simply meant that he wanted a warming pan.

Archie looked worried. “Mrs. B. said it would be all right. Perhaps you could bring it up after the pantomime? I can’t go to sleep when my bed is so cold.”

Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, Gertie nodded. “I’ll see to it, Mr. Parker. I won’t be bringing it up myself as I’ll have other duties to attend to, but I’ll make sure that one of the footmen warms your bed for you tonight.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank you.” Archie beamed at her. “I shall look forward to a good night’s sleep, then.”