Chapter 5 #3
If she realized she called me Cleo instead of Miss Fox, she gave no sign, and I didn’t correct her. I didn’t want to. It felt right that we were on a first name basis. “I still think we need to rule it out if it will prove Mr. Culpepper was lying and deliberately putting the idea into my head.”
She slipped her shoes on and bent to tie the laces. “And how are we going to do that?”
“I’ll enter Lord Rumford’s room when he’s not there and look for clues. There might be some correspondence from Pearl or details about this holiday they’re going to take together in the autumn.”
The idea didn’t shock her in the least. She finished tying her shoes and looked up.
“We’ll need his key. I don’t do his room and I don’t want to ask the maid who does.
The fewer people who know what we’re up to, the better.
We could get Peter to let us into Mr. Hobart’s office and use his spare key. ”
I’d learned in my last investigation that Mr. Hobart kept spare keys for all the rooms, as did the housekeeper.
I’d also learned that the keys were kept in a locked drawer in Mr. Hobart’s office and he kept that key on his person, and another with the assistant manager.
Mrs. Short’s spare keys were also kept in a locked box in her office.
There was only one person I knew who could get into all those locks.
Victor. There was also just one door that needed to be unlocked.
“We’ll bypass Mr. Hobart’s office and his spare keys and break into Rumford’s room,” I said. “Victor will do it.”
“And be glad to, knowing him.” She frowned. “What do you think he did before he came to work here?”
“I’m not sure. I thought you knew.”
“Something wild, I expect. He’s a no-good character, that one.”
“What makes you say that?”
“It’s written all over his face.”
“If you mean his scars, that’s a little unfair. Without them, he’d have quite a sweet, babyish face.”
She stood suddenly and peered down at me. “Victor is neither sweet nor good, and you should remember that. He’s trouble.”
I smiled.
“What’s so amusing?”
“Nothing,” I said innocently. “Now, you go and get some rest. I’ll see what I can learn about Lord Rumford’s movements.”
She gathered the teacups onto the tray and picked it up. “I’d better speak to Victor before I go and let him know our plans for him.”
“That won’t be necessary. You don’t have to speak to him if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t want to, but it must be done.” She indicated the tray. “Besides, I’ve got to return this to the kitchen.”
She strode towards the door, back straight. I smiled, until she suddenly turned around when she reached the door. She scowled at me, and I expected to be scolded for smiling again. But she simply opened the door and marched out.
According to Peter at the check-in desk, Lord Rumford had ordered a hotel carriage to take him to the theater then on to his club. He’d asked for the coachman to collect him there at three AM. It gave us plenty of time.
I went in search of Victor in the kitchen and spotted him at one of the long central benches.
The chef de cuisine stood at a stove, breathing down the neck of a red-faced youth stirring a pot.
The head chef had a fierce reputation and I didn’t like venturing into his domain, but this time it was necessary.
I darted into the kitchen and was immediately enveloped by the heat.
It pulsed around me like a living, breathing thing, as if it were trying to warn me to get out.
Chefs eyed my progress; some shook their heads in warning.
The operatic one momentarily stopped singing until I signaled that he should continue.
Victor glanced up from his station and raised his brows.
I mouthed “midnight.” Hopefully he’d spoken to Harmony and understood me.
“YOU!” The bellow, spoken with a French accent, cut through the hot, dense air of the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
“I just lost my way,” I said.
The chef de cuisine barreled towards me like a bulldog. He was a short man with a ridiculous curled mustache, but I wouldn’t dare mock him for it. He looked as though he’d throw one of the knives from his belt at me. “I do not care who you are! Get out! Get out!”
I turned and fled.
I dined with Flossy and Floyd in the dining room that evening.
Aunt Lilian kept to her suite, and Uncle Ronald had gone out to a gentleman’s club with friends.
It made for a relaxing evening, despite having to keep up appearances for the guests.
Some still approached our table and greeted my cousins by name, but their number was fewer than when my uncle was present.
For once, Floyd didn’t rush off after dinner. He ordered a glass of port while Flossy and I drank coffee, and sighed with contentment as he sipped. “Good stuff, that.”
“Did you order the most expensive?” Flossy asked.
“Who knows how much it costs?”
“Father.”
“He doesn’t check the accounts that closely, so he’ll never know it was me who ordered it. If he does see it, he’ll assume it was one of the guests.”
Her gaze lifted to the steward, standing by the lectern where he noted down the names of guests as they entered. “Mr. Chapman will know.”
“But he’ll never tell Father.”
“Why not?”
Floyd gave her a smug smile. “Because I’m going to take over one day and Chapman might like to keep his job.”
“That’s a long way off. Father could live for years.
Sometimes I think he’ll be here forever.
” She said it without much feeling, as if discussing the demise of a mere acquaintance.
“And anyway, who’s to say he won’t leave his majority share to someone else?
Someone he thinks is more capable of running the show. ”
“I am bloody capable.”
“I know that, Floyd, but you know what Father’s like.”
Floyd hunched morosely over his glass while Flossy looked as though she regretted mentioning it at all.
“That was an excellent meal,” I said to break the tension. “I enjoyed your company this evening. To what do we owe the pleasure, Floyd?”
“I’m staying in tonight. I’ll entertain some friends in my suite later.”
“Who?” Flossy asked.
“The usual set.”
Her gaze narrowed, and I thought she’d press him further, but she simply said, “Make sure they’re quiet when they leave. Don’t wake Mother.”
“They’ll be very discreet. Don’t worry about me, Floss. I’m an expert in sneaking in and out of the hotel at all hours.” He finished his glass of port and rose. “Think I’ll rest up before my guests arrive. Goodnight, ladies.”
We watched him go. He seemed cheerful tonight, which I suspected had a lot to do with his father’s absence.
Floyd had a carefree manner, much to his father’s consternation.
Uncle Ronald wanted a son like himself, serious and business-like with the hotel always at the forefront of everything he did, every friend he made.
But Floyd just wanted to have a good time.
“I wish I could entertain friends in my suite whenever I wanted,” Flossy muttered.
“It’s not fair that he can and I have to be stuck here until Mother or Father let me out, and even then I have to go out with Mother or a hotel maid as chaperone.
I want to be free, Cleo. I want to see whomever I want whenever I want.
You’re so lucky your parents are dead.” She winced. “Sorry, but you know what I mean.”
“You ought to tell them you’d like a little more freedom. Start small. Ask if you can meet a friend for lunch or coffee.”
“They’ll tell me to meet my friend here. The Mayfair has the best afternoon tea and lunch in London, after all.” She sighed. “Don’t mind me. I’ve just got a touch of melancholy. It’ll pass.”
She might not look like her mother, but in that moment, she reminded me of Aunt Lilian in one of her low moods.
I wondered if Flossy’s parents ever saw the likeness, or if they were too keen for her to live the same sort of life they’d had at her age—one where she was expected to associate with the right sort and only under the watchful eye of a parent.
The fourth floor corridor was quiet at midnight. I heard the distant thud of a door closing on another level, but otherwise the building was silent. I didn’t even hear Victor’s footsteps on the stairs, and I only saw him emerge from the stairwell because I was watching it.
“Harmony said you had a task for me up here,” he whispered. “Am I right in assuming I’m picking a lock?”
“Lord Rumford’s suite.” I led the way along the corridor and stopped at the door numbered four-fifteen.
Victor dropped to his knees and went to work with the slender tools he’d brought with him. He didn’t have his knife belt on him, nor did he wear his chef whites. He must have returned to the staff residence hall and changed after his shift.
He hadn’t asked me why I needed to look through Lord Rumford’s suite. Indeed, he took the exercise in his stride, as if this were no more unusual than turning up to work.
The lock finally clicked, and Victor opened the door.
I entered while he kept watch. I flicked the light switch on and headed straight for the sitting room.
I looked through the desk but there was no personal correspondence among the hotel stationery.
I looked through his belongings in the bedroom, but also found nothing.
After a half hour, and a thorough search, I slipped out of the suite and rejoined Victor.
He crouched down to relock the door. At the same time, a door further along the corridor opened and Floyd all but fell out of his suite along with two women in bare feet, their hair in disarray and their clothing askew. One of the girls giggled and Floyd shushed her with a finger to his lips.
Then he spotted me standing beside Victor, still crouched in front of Lord Rumford’s door.