Room With a Clue (Pennyfoot Hotel Mystery) (11 page)

Phoebe shook her head. “I am not one to gossip, Madeline, you know that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. All I have to do is stand outside the door and concentrate. I’m quite sure I shall have his name before too long.”

“No, no! You can’t do that! I’ll tell you.” Phoebe looked over the rail, then standing on tiptoe whispered a name to Madeline.

To her immense disappointment, Madeline seemed unimpressed. With a shrug she turned and resumed climbing. “Well, if you don’t want to tell me, you don’t,” she said over her shoulder. “So let us see if we can find Henry.”

Without much hope Phoebe trotted behind Madeline to the end of the hall on the third floor where the small cupboard housed the housemaid’s supplies. Standing well back, just in case, she watched as Madeline pulled the door open and peered inside.

After a moment Madeline withdrew her head. “I’m sorry to say there’s nothing in here but brooms and dusters and what appears to be a handmade sign.”

Phoebe wrinkled her brow. “What kind of sign?”

In lieu of an answer, Madeline reached inside and dragged out the square board nailed to a wooden beam. In large scrawling letters the words read, “Danger! Keep off! Wall under repair. Extremely dangerous.”

CHAPTER

11

“What do you think this is doing here?” Phoebe said, staring at the sign in Madeline’s hands.

“I have not the slightest idea.” Madeline frowned. “I heard Cecily mention this morning that she had made a sign for the roof garden. This must be the one.”

“But what is it doing here in the broom cupboard? I’m sure it can’t be of much use there.”

“Well, assuming that Henry didn’t carry it in here, I have to suppose someone else must have done so.”

Phoebe didn’t like the look on Madeline’s face. She didn’t like it at all. “Perhaps Cecily put it there,” she suggested knowing how absurd that sounded.

Whatever Madeline had been thinking, she obviously had no intention of sharing it. “Well,” she said, as if the whole thing was of no importance, “I think we should just put it back, and I’ll mention it to Cecily when I see her.”

“Yes, but—”

Madeline looked at her with the potent expression that always made Phoebe feel uncomfortable. “If you want to find Henry before your dancers arrive, perhaps we should go down to the next floor.”

Reminded of her own personal crisis, Phoebe nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes. We must hurry. Time is slipping by so fast.” She rushed to the top of the stairs, already forgetting about the sign.

Cecily was consumed with fury. After everything that Daphne Morris had told her, it would seem her suspicions had been well founded. Not only had someone chosen her hotel in which to carry out this terrible crime, but also he had tried to make it look like an accident, thereby placing her and the Pennyfoot in jeopardy.

Most important of all, he had deliberately taken another person’s life. It surely was the most heinous of crimes. If there was a murderer taking refuge in her hotel, it was up to her to see that he was caught.

Somehow she would see that he paid for what he had done. And if Daphne Morris had information that would help her do that, she must be made to reveal it.

She looked across at the companion sitting stubbornly quiet on her chair. “Tell me,” she said, “was Mr. Danbury wearing his uniform when he left the room to search for the dog?” She felt fairly certain he wasn’t, but it seemed prudent to confirm it.

The companion seemed startled by the question. “Why, no, he couldn’t have been. He didn’t have it to wear. When I went down to get the costumes from the steam room, only milady’s fancy dress was ready. Mr. Danbury’s uniform was still waiting to be pressed.”

“And what time was that?”

Daphne Morris frowned. “It would have been about half-past six. I took milady’s costume up to the boudoir for her to begin dressing while I took Chan Ying for a walk. When I lost the dog I came back to the room, and Mr. Danbury left to search for him.”

She plucked at a fold of her dress, apparently struggling to remember. “It usually takes me fifteen minutes to dress Lady Eleanor’s hair, after which I went back to fetch Mr. Danbury’s uniform.”

“And it was ready then?”

“Yes. It was hanging on the rail outside the steam room with the other costumes.” A small sigh escaped. “I came back to the suite with it and hung it in the wardrobe. Lady Eleanor wasn’t there. I assumed she’d gone on to the ball. I left right away to help search for the dog. I was worried about him.”

“And what time was that?”

“About a quarter to eight.”

Cecily leaned forward. “I don’t suppose you could think of anyone who might have wanted to meet Lady Eleanor, someone milady would prefer to keep a secret from her husband?”

She could tell the companion was becoming increasingly distressed. Daphne Morris looked left and right as if seeking some escape from the question, and her fingers began twisting at the handkerchief as if any moment she would rip it into tiny pieces.

“It might be easier to tell me about it than P.C. Northcott,” Cecily added, hoping to jolt the woman into responding.

Daphne Morris’s eyelids fluttered rapidly, then she said in a muffled undertone, “I suppose it could have been Mr. Torrington.”

“Keith Torrington?” Cecily echoed in some surprise. She had seen the tall blond man arrive earlier that day. It had been his car she’d watched rumble down the slope to the cove.

Daphne Morris nodded. “Lady Eleanor is most friendly with Mr. Torrington’s intended, Lady Luella Maitland. In fact, Lady Eleanor was to have been a member of the wedding party next month.” She paused, a shadow crossing her face. “I don’t know what Lady Luella is going to say about this, I’m sure. It will be a dreadful shock to her.”

“But why would Mr. Torrington and Lady Eleanor wish to meet in secret?” Cecily persisted, feeling she already knew the answer.

She wasn’t really surprised when Daphne Morris answered, “Lady Eleanor was very fond of Mr. Torrington. She would
have married him many years ago if he had asked her. But Mr. Torrington was not ready to settle for a wife at that time, and so Lady Eleanor married Mr. Danbury. I think she did so to spite Mr. Torrington.”

“And now Mr. Torrington has decided to marry after all?”

“Yes. It distressed Lady Eleanor very much when she discovered that Mr. Torrington was to marry her best friend. She actually introduced them in this very hotel.”

“And you think Mr. Torrington wanted to meet Lady Eleanor for a last farewell?”

Daphne Morris’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “No, I don’t think that at all. You see, milady discovered today that Mr. Torrington had arranged a rendezvous with another woman this weekend. He is most likely with her this very minute. Lady Eleanor was outraged and threatened to inform Lady Luella of her intended’s betrayal. Mr. Danbury himself warned Mr. Torrington of milady’s intention.”

Cecily’s interest sharpened considerably. “How did Mr. Torrington receive that news?”

“I understand he was extremely put out.”

“Yes, I imagine he would be.” Cecily considered that for a moment. “I wonder, did Lady Eleanor mention the name of the young lady?”

Daphne Morris shook her head. “I don’t know if she had knowledge of it.” She looked up, straight into Cecily’s eyes. “I can’t imagine why Mr. Torrington should arrange an illicit rendezvous at this hotel. He knows very well that milady and Mr. Danbury visit here often. It seems very foolish to me to take such a risk.”

“It would seem so.” Cecily rose, anxious now to investigate further the information she’d received.

Daphne Morris stood, then walked over to the door to open it. “I hope it won’t be necessary to repeat everything I’ve told you.”

Following her, Cecily said quietly, “I’ll be as discreet as possible.”

“Though I suppose it’s of no consequence now. In any case, Lady Eleanor will not be able to inform Lady Luella, and Mr. Torrington’s secret is safe.”

“Yes,” Cecily said as she stepped out into the hall. “Those were my thoughts exactly.”

The steam room was empty when Cecily arrived there a few minutes later. Whatever clothes had not been picked up by half past eight were delivered to the rooms by the housemaids.

Hoping that the day’s list had not yet been destroyed, Cecily hurried over to the blackboards on the wall above the pressing tables.

Obviously Ethel, the laundry maid, had been in a hurry, since the list for that day’s orders for cleaning and pressing was still chalked up on the boards.

Fridays were always much busier in the steam room, since many of the guests had their costumes pressed for the ball.

Cecily skimmed down the list, noting that a half-dozen military uniforms had been brought down for pressing. Keith Torrington’s name was not among them, however.

When she did discover Torrington’s name, she saw that he had sent down a sheikh’s costume to be pressed, as well as a Cleopatra ensemble. Interesting, Cecily thought. Considering the need for secrecy, Keith Torrington was remarkably indiscreet.

A thought occurred to her, and she hurried out to the reception desk. If Torrington wanted his visit to remain undetected, he most likely had signed the register under an alias.

The night clerk was apparently resting in the tiny office behind the desk, and Cecily felt no need to disturb him. The register lay on the desk, and she turned it around to read it. What she saw there surprised her a great deal. The signature scrawled across the middle of the page read, Mr. and Mrs. Torrington.

Replacing the register, Cecily frowned. He certainly hadn’t gone to any great pains to hide the fact he was accompanied by a woman. Yet Daphne Morris had stated that Mr. Torrington was most put out when Robert Danbury warned him of his wife’s intention to inform his bride-to-be of his tryst.

Deciding it was time she had a word with Keith Torrington, Cecily glanced at the grandfather clock in the foyer. She wasn’t
at all certain as to how she could broach the delicate matter of his companion, but somehow she had to find out if Torrington had sent the note to Lady Eleanor.

While she continued to ponder the problem, she heard her name called. Looking up, she saw Madeline hurrying down the stairs, her pale lilac gown billowing out behind her.

Cecily could tell from the set look on Madeline’s face that all was not well. She waited until the other woman reached her before asking, “Have you found Henry?”

“No, Phoebe is still searching for him.” Madeline took her arm and drew her into a corner, though there were no ears to overhear their conversation. “I found something else,” she said in a dramatic whisper.

“What is it?” Cecily whispered back, without quite knowing why.

“I found a hand-painted sign warning people about the danger to the wall.”

Cecily forgot to whisper. “Where is it?”

“On the third floor. It was in the broom cupboard. I was looking for Henry in there, and it fell into my hands.” Madeline looked pleased at Cecily’s stunned expression. “I thought you’d be surprised.”

She leaned forward, dropping her voice to a whisper again. “Who do you think put it there?”

That was something she’d dearly like to know, Cecily thought wryly. She wasn’t ready to discuss the matter with Madeline right now, however. Conscious of the woman’s sharp gaze, Cecily said casually, “Baxter, I expect. Now that the wall has a huge hole in it, I imagine he decided the sign would be unnecessary and put it away.”

“Oh” Madeline said, obviously disappointed. “I thought perhaps there might be dirty deeds afoot.”

“Dirty deeds?” She was altogether too quick, Cecily thought, doing her best to seem confused at the thought. The last thing she needed was for rumors to be spread that Lady Eleanor’s death might not be an accident.

Though she was very much afraid that once P.C. Northcott arrived and heard what she had to say, he would most likely
send for the inspector. There didn’t seem to be any way to avoid a full-scale scandal now.

“Well, Cecily,” Madeline said, looking up and down the hall to make sure no one could overhear, “it does seem awfully odd that Lady Eleanor would venture near a dangerous spot in the wall, leave alone actually lean against it. But if by some chance the sign weren’t there, well that would explain it, wouldn’t it?” Madeline lifted a finger and laid it along her cheek. “Now just suppose someone had deliberately hidden the sign, before Lady Eleanor went up there. I have to wonder what that would suggest to you.”

Her train of thoughts so closely matched Cecily’s own that she became most concerned. “It suggests that you are being even more fanciful than usual,” she said, introducing an edge of disapproval into her voice. “I do hope you are not expressing such thoughts to anyone else.”

Madeline looked hurt. She wagged a slender finger in Cecily’s face. “I warned you this morning,” she said, dropping her voice to a husky whisper. “Murderers murder on the night of the full moon.”

“I would appreciate it if you’d keep those thoughts to yourself, Madeline. If you have time to spare, perhaps you could help Phoebe with the tableau? I’m afraid this business with Henry has put her all behind.”

Madeline signed. “I was intending to go home. I have nothing but a sausage roll inside my stomach, and it’s beginning to make the most dreadful noises. If you insist, however, I will see what I can do to help her.”

She turned to go, then apparently changed her mind. “You know,” she said, “I do believe Phoebe has found someone of interest in one of your suites.”

Surprised, without thinking, Cecily asked, “Who?”

Madeline shrugged. “She wouldn’t tell me his name and went to great pains to deny it, but he’s the gentleman staying in suite three.” She fixed her odd stare on Cecily’s face. “I don’t suppose you’d know the name of the gentleman occupying suite three?”

It was difficult to keep a blank expression under that intense
gaze, but Cecily managed it. “I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea. Who did Phoebe say it was?”

Madeline told her with a laugh that said she wasn’t entirely convinced that Phoebe wasn’t telling the truth. “I offered to make up a potion for her, but of course Phoebe would never agree to that.” She shook her head with a mournful sigh. “I feel so sorry for the disbelievers. They deny themselves so much, instead of trusting in the spirits.”

Cecily had the uneasy feeling that the remark was directed at her as much as Phoebe. Madeline knew full well that Cecily did not share her friend’s beliefs in the spiritual world she inhabited for so much of her life.

“Anyway,” Madeline added, “I’d better continue the search for Henry. The poor dear must be quite upset by all this trauma. I shall have to whisper in his ear to settle him down again when I find him.”

She floated off down the hall, leaving Cecily staring after her, a thoughtful frown on her face.

Actually, the mystery surrounding suite three was the least of her worries, she reminded herself.

It had become increasingly clear that the sooner this little matter of Lady Eleanor’s death was cleared up, the better. Far too many people were becoming involved, and it would only be a matter of time before word leaked out that Lady Eleanor had met with a fatal accident.

From then on, speculation would be rife, and the ugly rumors could do more damage than the truth. Though Cecily was very much afraid the truth could be quite devastating, if her hunches proved to be correct.