Chapter 12 #3
“Thank you both.” I leaned across the counter and pecked Peter’s cheek. Even when I stood on my toes I was still too short to kiss Goliath’s cheek so I settled for patting his arm. “You’ve been a marvelous help.”
Peter blushed and smiled.
Goliath followed me to the door. “Where are you going now?”
“I can’t confront Lord and Lady Wrexham with this information. They’ve told me very little so far and are hardly going to tell me anything more now. I’m going to call on Detective Inspector Hobart at Scotland Yard. It’s time for the police to take over.”
He looked disappointed. “But it’s your case. You should get the glory of solving it.”
“I’ve progressed as far as I can on my own.”
“So you’re just going to waltz into Scotland Yard and hope he’ll see you?”
I chewed my lip. It did sound somewhat silly to think he’d see me immediately. And what if he wasn’t there? I didn’t want to speak to a different detective. I wanted to talk to someone who knew me.
“I’ll ask Mr. Armitage what to do,” I said as he held the door open for me. “After all, who knows his father better than him?”
I found Mr. Armitage in his office, painting the wall. Dressed in overalls with his sleeves rolled to his elbows and a dash of paint on his cheek, he somehow looked even more handsome, something I thought entirely impossible until now.
“What was wrong with the previous color?” I asked.
“It was too plain.”
I looked around at the walls, nearly finished in the off-white color he’d chosen. “As opposed to this vibrant shade?”
“There was an old water stain in the corner that needed touching up.”
“I didn’t notice it.”
“Then you’re not very observant. It was an eyesore.”
“Or are you just bored?”
“I’m very busy. I have inquiries coming in all the time from my newspaper ad.”
I opened the appointment book on his desk while his back was turned. “You don’t have a single appointment listed.”
“I don’t have a single appointment yet.” He rested the paint brush on top of the can and wiped his hands on a rag. “Have you come to criticize the way I spend my time or do you need my help?”
“The latter. You can spend your time in any way you like. Although you should spend a little more time contemplating paint choices. You know, Flossy’s got a good eye for color. You should have asked her advice.”
He laughed. “Next time I want to paint a wall, I’ll ask the daughter of my former employer who dismissed me. Thanks for the advice, Miss Fox.”
I scowled. “She’d be happy to help you. She has a lot of respect for you.”
He arched his brows in a challenge.
In truth, I didn’t know what Flossy thought of Mr. Armitage. We’d never discussed him.
“Do you have clothes on under those overalls?” I asked.
He gave me a lopsided grin. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation so early in our friendship.”
“Very amusing. I’d like you to accompany me to call on your father at Scotland Yard. I want to tell him about my theory for Pearl’s murder. I think either Lord or Lady Wrexham killed her but neither will reveal their secrets to me. Your father will know how to get answers.”
“Why do you need me?”
“I thought your presence might be a persuasive influence.”
“Why do you need a persuasive influence? Does your theory have holes?”
“It’s a very good theory. Do you recall that Lord Wrexham has sores on his face? I believe they’re caused by syphilis which he may have caught from Pearl.”
“I thought they ended their relationship years ago. If he has the sores now, he caught it more recently.”
“Perhaps they resumed their relationship.”
“Perhaps? Do you know for certain?”
“Well, no.”
“And do you know if Pearl had syphilis?”
“No. But there are doctor’s bills in her flat.”
“For doctors specializing in syphilis?”
“I didn’t know, but—"
“So you have no evidence, only speculation.” He unbuttoned the front of his overalls, revealing a shirt underneath. “Jumping to conclusions again, Miss Fox?”
It wasn’t fair of him to dredge up the time I’d accused him of murder and thereby inadvertently cost him his job at the hotel. I tried to look defiant, but I suspected I failed. Indeed, I must have because he gave me a sympathetic look.
He stepped out of the overalls and folded them up. He wore only trousers, suspenders and a shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His tie and waistcoat were hanging on the stand by the door.
“Miss Fox? Are you listening?”
I realized I’d been staring at his forearms, admiring the way the muscles moved beneath the smooth skin on the underside of his arms. “Of course I am.” I cleared my throat. “Refresh my memory.”
He smirked. “I was saying that you need evidence if you want my father’s help.
For one thing, Pearl Westwood’s death was deemed suicide, and you don’t have enough evidence to suggest otherwise.
For another, my father didn’t oversee the investigation.
If you want him to overturn a ruling made by one of his colleagues, you’ll need something solid. ”
I sighed. “Which I don’t have.”
He gave me a flat smile. “Sorry.”
“And I’m also unlikely to get it. Lord and Lady Wrexham are a closed book and I have no authority over them.”
He sat on the edge of the desk near me. “Sit down.”
I sat, curious as to why he was looking rather serious.
“I’m going to tell you a secret.”
“You have my attention.”
“I’m going to give you the secret as to how I earned the respect of the staff at the hotel, even though I didn’t have the seniority of my uncle nor the status of Sir Ronald.”
“If you tell me it’s arrogance, I already know that from observing you.” When he gave me a withering glare, I muttered an apology then pressed my lips together.
“To command respect, you don’t actually need to have any authority at all. You have to pretend to.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You have to talk and act like you’re above them.
You even have to think you are, at times.
When you’re intimidated, don’t show it. When they talk down to you, stand above them, metaphorically speaking.
I think you’d be rather good at it. You have a certain confidence about you already. You just need a little more composure.”
“If you’re talking about keeping a lid on my temper, I’m afraid that might be impossible. I got quite angry with Lady Wrexham yesterday.”
He rolled down the sleeve on his left arm. “It’s something to practice, anyway.”
I stood. “Thank you for the advice, but I don’t think it will work on the Wrexhams. No matter how much pretending I do, I’m not at their level, and they know it.”
“Nonsense. You’re Sir Ronald Bainbridge’s niece. If that doesn’t open doors here in London, little else will.” He stopped unrolling the sleeve and looked at me, a crease connecting his brows. “You do know that, don’t you?”
I gave a small shrug of my shoulder, but wasn’t really listening. I couldn’t see how mentioning my uncle’s name was going to encourage Lord Wrexham to talk to me about his illness. I’d barely got him to talk about his relationship with Pearl. Syphilis was a subject too far.
I left Mr. Armitage’s office feeling less assured of myself than when I’d arrived. He was right. I had no proof. Even worse, I didn’t know how to get it.
The investigation was at a dead end. It was time to tell Lord Rumford that I was giving up, that I couldn’t say definitively whether Pearl killed herself or not. I wasn’t looking forward to letting him down.
But what I really wasn’t looking forward to was telling him that his lover not only had a child by another man, but she quite possibly had syphilis too, and may have given it to him.