Chapter 17 #3
“I was coming back upstairs when I heard that damned typewriter. I went in, and he was as shocked to see me as I was to see him. He thought I’d left with Dorcas.
I realized he’d heard us talking. It was written all over his face.
I told him not to tell anyone, but he didn’t reassure me that he’d keep quiet.
Why didn’t he tell me he’d keep my secret? ”
“So you grabbed the closest thing at hand, and stabbed him,” I said.
“The letter opener was just there, lying about. If it hadn’t been there, he’d still be alive today. It’s not my fault.” His capacity to blame everyone and everything except himself was as astounding as it was pathetic.
“You burned the notebook,” I said.
“I was about to leave when I saw it on his desk. He’d written our conversation down, word for word.
I threw the whole thing into the fireplace and set it alight.
Then I went upstairs to clean up and change, and that’s when I heard Mrs. Jeffry come home.
I slipped out of the house via the back door when she was looking at the body. ”
The clang of a handbell announced the arrival of the police vehicle in the street, but it was Mrs. Jeffry’s sudden arrival that caused the most commotion in the drawing room.
“Hello, everyone,” she said cautiously from the doorway. “What are you all doing here?”
We all turned to her, except for Mr. Symond.
He lunged for the fire irons. “Get out of the way,” he snarled, brandishing a long-handled fork.
Mrs. Jeffry dropped her basket of groceries and screamed.
Harry grabbed the long-handled brush from the fire tools set and struck the fork, but didn’t dislodge it from Mr. Symond’s grip. Mr. Symond stabbed the fork at Harry’s middle, but Harry deftly skipped to the side, parrying the fork with the brush as he did so.
The Newman brothers could have stepped in to assist but chose to remain with their sister and watch on as if it were a fight they’d bought tickets to see.
Outside, the clang of the handbell grew louder then stopped altogether.
“The police are here,” Harry told Mr. Symond. “Put your weapon down.”
Mr. Symond’s face crumpled. With a low wail, he fell to his knees. Harry removed the fork from his grip and stepped back, just as the constables streamed into the drawing room. D.I. Latimer and D.S. Fanning followed.
“The murderer, Inspector,” Harry said with a nod at the forlorn figure of Mr. Symond.
Two constables hauled him up between them. Harry returned the fire tools to their stand near the fireplace while the inspector nudged his sergeant and indicated Mrs. Jeffry’s groceries, strewn over the floor near her basket.
D.S. Fanning bent to gather her things, but not before casting me a frown.
Mrs. Jeffry sat down heavily on the sofa, a hand to her heaving chest. “I can’t believe it.
He’s so nice. He always pays his rent on time, and is polite and cheerful.
” She spoke as if Mr. Symond wasn’t there.
He reacted as if he couldn’t hear her. Hands cuffed behind him, he moaned like a wounded creature.
“It must be that Miss Newman leading him astray,” Mrs. Jeffry went on. “I never did like her.”
Somehow, the Newmans had already slipped out during the commotion.
“Is Miss Newman involved?” D.I. Latimer asked Harry.
D.S. Fanning snorted. “’Course she is, if she’s related to those two thugs. I recognized them, sir. They’re the sons of Jonah Newman. The whole family’s bent.”
“I recognized them too, Sergeant. Well, Armitage? Do I need to send men to their shop to arrest them?”
Harry told them how Mr. Symond had killed Mr. Bradbury, and why, and how he’d managed to cover up his crime with the help of an alibi supplied by the Newmans. If the Newmans wanted to deny any involvement, good luck to them. I doubted they’d get away with it.
Poor Mrs. Jeffry seemed to be suffering from shock after hearing Harry’s account. She followed me into the kitchen and watched me without really seeing me as I made tea. As I handed her a cup, I suggested she call on Ida Gainsborough for company. It might be wise for her not to be alone.
When I returned to the drawing room, Harry was waiting for me. The police had all left.
“I asked the inspector to notify the press immediately so that the tall man can come out of hiding,” Harry said. “He told me it had already been done after Mrs. Jeffry changed her statement this morning. His innocence will be printed in this evening’s papers.”
“Thank goodness for that,” I said on a breath. “Let’s inform Goliath now.”
* * *
Not only was Goliath immeasurably relieved to no longer be a suspect, he was very grateful to both Harry and me for believing him from the very beginning. “Not everyone would,” he said as the three of us left Harry’s flat and headed down the stairs.
“Those who know you would,” I assured him. “That includes the hotel staff. Not a single one went to the police, even though they must have recognized you from the newspaper description.”
He blinked furiously as he battled to control his emotions.
Once we reached the foyer at the base of the stairs, he slapped his cap on his head. “I want to go home to change, and then I’m coming to the hotel. I want to see my friends and thank them in person.”
I clasped his forearm. “They’ll be pleased to see you, too.”
“I’m going to take them out for a drink tonight. Will you come, Harry?” So, it was Harry now? That was an advancement. Harry having been his superior at the hotel for so long, Goliath had always referred to him as Mr. Armitage.
Harry grinned. “Tell me where and when.”
“The Coach and Horses, six o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.”
“And you, Miss Fox? I want to buy you a drink, too.”
“I’d best decline,” I said. “Perhaps another time.”
“Right you are.”
He waved as he opened the door and walked off, shoulders hunched and cap pulled low. Until the newspapers printed a statement from the police about his innocence, he may still be recognized and stopped.
I turned to Harry and realized he’d been watching me. It didn’t take much to guess why. “I declined because I don’t want to rock the boat with my family at the moment. It’s sensible to give the impression of a dutiful niece.”
We were alone in the small foyer of his building, so I felt quite safe letting Harry place both hands on my waist. I rested mine on his shoulders and met his gaze with a challenging one of my own, daring him to tell me I ought to have accepted Goliath’s invitation.
“There’s no doubt that you’re dutiful, Cleo. You do as much for the hotel as either of your cousins. Goliath’s freedom is proof of that.”
“I investigated for his sake, not the hotel’s. Even so, being seen in the pub with the staff will create another obstacle I prefer not to leap over.”
“I understand.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “We’ll raise our glasses to you in celebration of all you did for Goliath.”
I pulled back. “Don’t you dare give me all the credit. Solving this case was a dual effort.”
I let him kiss me, even though I was well aware he hadn’t responded. That was quite all right with me. I would see the staff before he did, and I was going to make sure they knew the role he played.