Room With a Clue (Pennyfoot Hotel Mystery) (17 page)

“Thank you, madam.”

She could have sworn she saw a smile forming as she swept past him.

Wandering around the gardens some time later, Cecily saw John Thimble weeding the flower beds by the rock pool. Kneeling among the hollyhocks and Canterbury bells, he started when she spoke to him. He scrambled to his feet, pulled off his cap, and stood twisting it in his hands.

Cecily looked at the carefully tended beds and smiled. “It all
looks so beautiful, John. I don’t know how you manage it all single-handedly. I admire your dedication to it. This is such a large place to take care of.”

“Yes, mum.”

She shaded her eyes with her hand to look across the croquet lawn. “I hope the rockery didn’t suffer too much from yesterday’s awful tragedy?”

“No, mum. I took care of it all right.”

“Thank you, John. I appreciate you working so late last night.”

“Yes, mum. I be happy to do it, I’m sure.” He followed her gaze, deep furrows carved in his tanned forehead. “Can’t think how them plants came to be torn up like that, though. Mystery to me, that were.”

“Well, as long as they didn’t suffer because of it. That’s the important thing, isn’t it?”

He looked at her, his face breaking into a smile at her understanding. “It is indeed, mum. It is indeed.”

She smiled back. “Oh, as long as I’m here, I just thought I’d mention that the grass on the tennis courts looks a little long.”

“Yes, mum. I’ll be getting to that this evening. I were going to do it yesterday evening, but then that Mrs. Carter-Holmes had me looking for that there snake.” He blinked anxiously in the sunlight. “Did they find the snake, mum?”

Cecily nodded. “Henry is safe and sound, back with his trainer. Mr. Sims collected him very late last night.”

“That be a big relief, mum. Wouldn’t want no snake wandering around these gardens, here. Could do no end of damage to plants, that he could.”

Not to mention people, Cecily thought, amused by the groundskeeper’s priorities. “Oh, indeed, John,” she said gravely. “He could indeed.”

Gazing past her, John pointed his cap at a spot behind her. “Here come Mr. Baxter, mum. Looks like he might be looking for you.”

Cecily spun around and saw Baxter hurrying across the lawn. Even from that distance she could tell by his gait and the set of his shoulders that he had something urgent to tell her.

Excusing herself, she walked to meet the manager, wondering what new catastrophe was about to erupt.

Baxter slowed his pace when he saw her coming, smoothing his hair back with his hand as she approached.

“What is it?” she demanded as he got within earshot.

“The police have finished with their investigation,” he said, a trifle out of breath.

Cecily peered at his face. “And?”

“I thought you should know right away, madam. They have taken Robert Danbury in for questioning for the murder of his wife.”

CHAPTER

17

“I still find it so hard to believe,” Cecily said as she walked back across the still-damp grass with Baxter.

“I don’t know why, madam. I thought it was a foregone conclusion. You suspected Lady Eleanor had been murdered, and everything pointed to him as the culprit. Who else had reason to kill her?”

Cecily shrugged. “You are right, of course. And yet my instincts tell me he wasn’t responsible.” She looked up at him. “Did he confess, do you know?”

“No, madam. He didn’t. He emphatically denied it, of course. According to Northcott, he looked quite threatening when the inspector arrested him.”

“P.C. Northcott told you?” Cecily inquired innocently.

Baxter gave her a disparaging glance. “The constable can be most informative at times. He enjoys being in a position of importance, and was anxious to talk about the case.”

“Not that you were at all anxious to listen, of course.”

“I thought you’d want to know as many details as possible.”

“Ah, so you did it for me.”

“Yes, madam.”

He paused for so long she grew impatient. “So tell me, then,” she demanded.

“There isn’t much more to tell. From what I understand, Gertie identified Mr. Danbury’s uniform as being the one worn by the man who gave her the message last night. She saw that a button was loose, and remembers thinking that it would be another one to add to Mrs. Chubb’s button tin.”

“Really. How odd.”

Baxter looked down at her. “I do not see what is odd about that, madam.”

Cecily stepped onto the crazy paving path. “Never mind, Baxter. Was there anything else P.C. Northcott told you?”

“Well, there were the ashes in the fireplace. And I understand a paper knife was found in Mr. Danbury’s room badly scratched. The inspector believes it was used to work the bricks loose in the wall. Apparently, upon close inspection, he discovered that the wall had been tampered with.”

“Really? Then it wasn’t the fault of the storm at all.”

“No, madam.”

She sighed. “I would so have liked to know how Robert Danbury managed it. That is the real mystery here, Baxter. How did he do it? How did he have the time to do it?”

“He is a young man. Under duress people can do extraordinary things.”

They had reached the steps leading up to the main doors, and Cecily mounted them, still brooding over the news. Reaching the top step, she paused. “You know, Baxter, there’s something else about this that I don’t understand.”

He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised in question. “And what is that, madam?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No, I need to think about it for a while. In the meantime, I think I should have a word with Daphne Morris. She will have to take care of
everything on her own, and I feel I should offer our services should she need them. I presume she’s still here?”

“Yes, madam. Miss Morris informed me she would be staying until tomorrow, as originally intended, in order to take care of the packing. Since Mr. Danbury will not be returning to London for now, Miss Morris will have to see that the Danburys’ trunks are packed and returned to their home.”

He pulled open the heavy door and held it for her. “Northcott asked that the suite be locked until he can return to pick up what evidence he needs. He has given Miss Morris permission to pack everything except Danbury’s uniform, but he wants no one else in the room until he has cleared it.”

Cecily nodded, only half-listening.

“I pity that poor lady,” Baxter said, surprising her. “She will have a difficult time of it, I’m afraid.”

“Yes,” Cecily murmured as she stepped into the foyer. “I’m quite sure she will.”

Having found Daphne Morris’s room empty later, Cecily went up to the Danburys’ suite. When she tapped on the door, Miss Morris opened it with an alacrity that surprised her. The companion’s eyes still looked a trifle puffy, as if she had spent a good deal of the night weeping.

Accepting her invitation to enter the suite, Cecily walked in and looked around. An open trunk sat in the middle of the room, half filled with clothes.

Gesturing at it, Miss Morris said wearily, “As you can see, I am packing everything to take back to London.” She walked over to an armchair and dropped down on it. “I must say,” she added, passing a hand across her eyes, “I shall be quite thankful to get back to the city. I really don’t think I can manage any more of this dreadful business.”

Cecily took the chair opposite her and leaned forward. “I am sure it must be a great relief to you to know that Mr. Danbury has been taken for questioning.”

Daphne Morris’s face hardened. “Well, of course, I did not enjoy seeing him led away in that fashion, but, yes, I do admit to a certain easing of my mind. At the very least, Lady Eleanor
will now rest easy in her grave, knowing that justice will be done.”

“And we can all rest easy in this hotel, knowing that the murderer has been apprehended.” Cecily paused. “What will you do now, Miss Morris? Have you considered your future? Have you any plans?”

“I have given it a great deal of thought.” The other woman sighed. “I will have to begin looking for another position, of course. I am hoping that Lady Eleanor left me a small sum to manage on until I find something.”

“I’m sure she must have.” Cecily straightened her back. “I am here to tell you, Miss Morris, that if there is anything we can do, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Miss Morris nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Sinclair. You have been most kind. I am indeed grateful.”

Cecily rose. “I shall be dining in the dining room this evening, if you would care to join me. There is no reason for you to have dinner alone.”

The younger woman gave her a weak smile. “Thank you. I am not interested in food at the present, but if I have found my appetite by tonight, I shall be pleased to join you.”

“In that case,” Cecily said, moving toward the door, “I shall hope to see you tonight.”

Outside in the hall, she paused when Miss Morris said suddenly, “Mrs. Sinclair, there is something you could do for me, if it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition.”

Looking back at her, Cecily gave her a polite smile. “Of course, Miss Morris. What is it?”

The companion hesitated. “It’s Chan Ying. I shall have to find a home for him. He is getting old, and his temperament leaves much to be desired, but I was wondering …”

She left the question unfinished, a hopeful expression on her face as she looked at Cecily.

Oh, Lord, Cecily thought. “By all means, Miss Morris. Don’t worry, I’m sure I can arrange something.”

“Thank you. I would be so grateful.” The door closed quietly, and Cecily grimaced. She had nothing against dogs, but that yappy little pest did not belong cooped up in a hotel.

Maybe she could ask Madeline, Cecily thought, as she headed back down the hall. She could add it to her menagerie.

Madeline was in the library when Cecily walked in there later. Her arms full of John’s bright red snapdragons, she was replacing the drooping roses, which had lost more petals during the night. To Cecily’s relief, she readily agreed to take the Pekingese.

Cecily rescued a pink rosebud and stuck it through a buttonhole in her blouse. “They look nice and bright,” she remarked as she watched Madeline’s quick, capable hands create design out of disorder.

“Not much smell though,” Madeline said, standing back to take a look. “I do like a flower with a heavy perfume. I’ve been trying to talk John into growing wildflowers. Some of them have the most exquisite fragrance. But you know John, he is so set in his ways.”

Cecily smiled. “He has very definite ideas on how to take care of the grounds here. And he does an excellent job. He has practically landscaped the entire area.”

“Oh, I’m not saying he doesn’t do a good job. I agree, he has a wonderful green thumb. It would be nice if he were just the tiniest bit adventurous, that’s all.”

The thought of John Thimble being adventurous made Cecily smile. “He is a very quiet man,” she murmured. “A very private man.”

“That’s because he has some deep, dark tragedy in his past. He has buried it away in a place where it can’t gnaw at him.”

Cecily looked up in surprise. “How do you know that?”

Madeline looked mysterious. “I can sense it. Whenever I am near him. It’s like an aura floating around him. Something happened to make him stop living inside. That’s why he stays away from people.”

She plucked a long stem, heavy with blossom, from the bowl and broke off a piece of it before replacing it. With her head bent to one side, she murmured, “He doesn’t like people, you know. Not really. I don’t think he trusts them.”

Cecily felt uncomfortable, as if they were prying into the man’s deepest, most private being. She was about to say so
when Madeline added quietly, “We all have them, you know.”

Startled, for some reason Cecily felt a chill. “Have what?”

“Secrets. All of us have something hidden away inside of us that we don’t wish anyone to know.”

Cecily wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She was quite relieved when a light tap on the door announced a visitor. The door opened, and Phoebe poked her head around it, bumping her hat as she did so and setting the huge brim askew.

“Oh, there you are, Cecily.” Phoebe stepped inside the room and pulled the hat pin out of her hat. “I have the invoice for last night’s ball. I couldn’t see Mr. Baxter to give it to him, so I’ll give it to you.” She straightened her hat and stuck the pin back in.

Cecily stretched out her hand. “Thank you, Phoebe, I’ll see that he gets it.”

Phoebe handed over the slip of paper and shivered. “My, this place still has the feel of death, doesn’t it? To think that poor woman lay here all night. I shall never feel the same about this room.”

“It doesn’t seem possible that someone should be murdered right here in this hotel,” Madeline murmured, standing back to admire her handiwork.

Phoebe let out a shriek. “Murdered? Surely not?”

Cecily sighed. “I’m afraid so. It will be common knowledge before too long.”

“Oh, dear great good heavens.” Phoebe flapped a hand in front of her face. “I think I’m going to faint. I must sit down. What a dreadful thing.”

“It’s already common knowledge in the hotel,” Madeline said, rearranging an errant stem. “Everywhere I went this morning, people were talking about it. Apparently someone saw Robert Danbury being led away by the police, and in a matter of moments just about everyone knew.”

Phoebe’s eyes grew as round as croquet balls. “Robert Danbury … killed his wife?”

“He has been taken in for questioning, yes,” Cecily said, a little sharply. “But he has not been charged as yet, as far as we know. Even then, it is up to the courts to prove him guilty, not the likes of us.”

Madeline looked at her in surprise. “You talk as if you think the police made a mistake.”

Cecily shrugged. “I simply do not believe in condemning a man without knowing the entire story, that is all.” In an effort to change the subject, she added, “Baxter assures me that no one was hurt last night, Phoebe. I do trust the dancers are uninjured?”

Phoebe nodded gloomily. “What a disaster. Such an embarrassment. Why I did not look in the chair I really can’t imagine. I simply assumed Henry had gone exploring, when all he’d done was find a better place to sleep. The cushions were the same color as his own, so he must have thought they had been provided for him.”

She looked across at Madeline. “Are snakes capable of recognizing colors?”

“Not really. But I don’t know why you are so concerned. I thought it was quite exciting. All those women swooning into their lovers’ arms? It caused the biggest sensation you’ve achieved so far.”

Phoebe groaned. “That kind of sensation I can well do without. That poor girl up on the chair. I am really surprised she didn’t break a leg or something.” She smoothed a wrinkle out of her glove. “If I had hired a man the way I intended in the first place, none of it would have happened. A man might have received a fright, it is true, but he would never have let out that dreadful caterwauling which set off such a panic among the ladies in the audience.”

Madeline smiled. “Just think how much pleasure you gave all those gentlemen. How often do they get the opportunity to watch a delectable young maiden in a state of undress flee across the floor right in front of their very eyes?”

Phoebe tossed her head. “I might have known, Madeline, that you would see the debauched side of things. The poor thing could have been quite badly hurt when the silly girls dropped the chair.”

“Well, she wasn’t,” Cecily said in an attempt to soothe ruffled feathers. “Thank goodness. We had quite enough trauma last night as it was.”

“Yes, indeed.” Phoebe rose from her chair. “Well, I must
get home. Algie is waiting for me to sew a button on his shirt. I don’t think that foolish woman who does for me has ever held a needle and cotton in her life. Every button she sews on comes right off again. I have decided that it would be far more simple if I were to sew them on myself.”

She reached the door and looked back. “Oh, Cecily, I have a marvelous idea for the ball next week. A circus theme. I know where I can hire a dancing bear—”

Madeline let out her gurgling laugh and clapped her hands. “Wonderful! I adore the idea. A dancing bear. Will I get a chance to have a turn around the floor with him?”

Cecily frowned. “Perhaps we should wait until the meeting on Monday before we decide,” she said to Phoebe. “We’ll discuss it then.”

Phoebe sighed. “Oh, very well. But I do think it is such a good idea.” She closed the door quietly behind her.

Madeline threw her hands up in the air. “She is such a wonderful tonic. I wish she would just learn to relax.”

“Well, perhaps you can have a word with the spirits next week,” Cecily said, bending her head to sniff the rose in her buttonhole. “Maybe you can ask them to look upon us a little more kindly for Phoebe’s next effort.”

“It isn’t the fault of the spirits, Cecily,” Madeline said, walking toward the door. “It takes something special to summon them. What happens after that is out of our control.”