Chapter 15
With the investigation and its conclusion still playing on my mind, I had difficulty sleeping. I ordered a cup of hot chocolate through the speaking tube at three AM, but when it didn’t arrive, I put on my dressing gown and headed down to the kitchen.
My candle flickered in the drafts swirling through the stairwell, creating dancing shadows on the wall. I clutched the dressing gown tightly at my throat, but it did little to block out the cold. I should have stayed in bed.
As my foot stepped onto the second floor landing, a figure emerged from the corridor.
We both stopped and stared at the other.
By the light of her candle, I could see her ruby red lips, her pink cheeks and painted eyes.
Her shawl hung loosely around her bare shoulders, revealing an extremely low-cut dress and ample cleavage.
She wasn’t one of the elegant mistresses I’d seen on the arms of gentlemen guests, treated as though she were his wife.
This woman was not of the same quality, and her benefactor was treating her like a whore, making her leave in the middle of the night.
She wasn’t the sort of woman my uncle would want coming and going from the hotel.
She pressed a finger to her lips and giggled, then passed me and rushed down the stairs.
I followed at a distance and waited at the base of the stairwell as she crossed the foyer.
There was no beak-nosed man there tonight, no Mr. Hirst, only James, the night porter.
He opened the door for the woman and she left without a backward glance.
I checked the vicinity then approached him. He swallowed heavily upon seeing me then he too, glanced around. I suspected he was looking for an escape, or someone to come to his rescue.
“Good evening, Miss Fox,” he said, a nervous hitch in his voice.
“Good evening, James. Who was that?”
“What?”
“The woman who just left. Who was she?”
“A, er, a guest.”
“A guest leaving on her own at this hour? Come now, James, I’m not a fool. I saw her in the stairwell. She is not a guest.”
He blinked rapidly, his mouth working, but no sound coming out.
“I know what she is and why she’s here,” I went on. “She and the other women have not been discreet, and I suspect that will bother my uncle more than their actual presence in the hotel.”
“You’re going to tell him?” he squeaked.
“I have to. I can’t turn the other cheek to something that affects the hotel’s reputation. Uncle Ronald would never forgive me if he found out that I knew and never said a word. But I can spare you the worst, if you tell me who is orchestrating the comings and goings of those girls.”
Even in the dim light, I could see his face blanch. “I can’t. They’ll punish me if I tell.”
As much as James needed to take responsibility for his actions, I couldn’t think too harshly of him. It was likely he was given no choice. He would have been threatened if he didn’t do as ordered.
“Then we have to catch those responsible in the act so that you can’t be blamed for tattling. Do you know where Mr. Hirst and that other fellow are now?”
He sucked in his lower lip and nibbled it. He finally released it with a nod of his head. “His name is Tucket. The girls belong to him.”
“Belong?”
He shrugged. “That’s what he says. They’re in the hotel, upstairs. There was some trouble with one of the girls in room one-twenty-four and they went to appease the guest who ordered her company.”
I had to hope they’d be there a little longer. If this was to work, I had to catch them in the act. But I couldn’t do it alone.
I raced up the staircase so quickly my candle flame extinguished. I was out of breath by the time I knocked lightly on the door to my uncle and aunt’s suite. My tap was so soft that I worried Uncle Ronald wouldn’t hear it, but he opened the door a moment later, blinking blearily back at me.
“Cleo? Something wrong?”
“Get dressed, and hurry. We have to catch Mr. Hirst and a man known as Tucket in the act.”
“The act of what?”
“Of procuring whores and smuggling them into the hotel.”
If I were my uncle, I would have pressed for more details then and there, but thankfully he didn’t question me. He trusted me.
A few minutes later, he joined me in the corridor as he threw on a velvet smoking jacket over his shirt and trousers.
We raced down the stairs to level one. Instead of knocking on the door to room one-twenty-four, we waited.
I could just make out raised voices coming from inside, a higher pitched female one and lower male ones.
When the door suddenly opened and a woman stormed out, followed by Mr. Hirst and the beak-nosed man, Uncle Ronald and I remained in the shadows until the door closed behind them.
As much as we needed to catch them in the act, we could not embarrass the guest. I expected Uncle Ronald would discreetly inform him in the morning that the Mayfair didn’t condone the presence of common whores.
The hypocrisy of not allowing those sort of women yet turning the other cheek when a mistress arrived on the arm of her benefactor wasn’t lost on me, but it wasn’t my hotel or my rules.
When Mr. Hirst and Tucket passed us, Uncle Ronald stepped out of the shadows. “Come with me. Both of you.”
The man named Tucket darted off, his footsteps thundering down the stairs. I suspected we wouldn’t see him or his women again after tonight. Mr. Hirst, however, couldn’t disappear as easily.
“I’ll escort you to your room,” Uncle Ronald told the assistant manager. “You will gather your things and leave immediately.”
Mr. Hirst’s nostrils flared. “Will I receive a reference, sir?”
“You have the gall to ask me that? You’re lucky I’m not going to tell the police.”
Mr. Hirst’s eyes hardened in the light of his lantern.
“You wouldn’t do that, sir. You don’t want the police here so soon after the murder.
The hotel’s reputation is everything.” Haughty confidence dripped from every word.
He knew he was right. He turned to me and I shivered beneath his ice-cold glare.
“Speaking of reputations, do you know that Miss Fox is undertaking an investigation?”
“Yes, and what has that got to do with anything?” Uncle Ronald demanded.
“Do you know she’s conducting that investigation with Harry Armitage? They’ve been seen together, looking very comfortable in one another’s company.” He strode off, a twisted smile on his lips.
My uncle shot me a speaking look that warned me we would be having words later, then he followed Mr. Hirst down the stairs. I headed up to my suite and didn’t sleep a wink for the rest of the night.
Despite my reassurances to James, he was dismissed too.
In hindsight, it was inevitable his participation in the scheme would be discovered by my uncle.
Without his agreement, it couldn’t have gone ahead.
According to Harmony, who’d heard it from one of the footmen, James had at least been promised a reference by Mr. Hobart, who’d overseen his dismissal when he arrived for work in the morning.
I told her what had transpired overnight but asked her not to tell anyone else. The reason for the dismissals should remain a secret. “Did you hear how Mr. Hirst took it?” I asked as she sat across from me at breakfast. “Did he say something as he left?”
“He was gone before even the maids arrived. No one saw him go but Sir Ronald.”
It didn’t matter, I supposed. He’d already said enough to damage my reputation in my uncle’s eyes. Uncle Ronald didn’t like Mr. Armitage, and he’d already made it clear he didn’t want him here, let alone want me associating with him.
That was not his decision to make, however, and I was determined to tell him as much when he confronted me about it. I could be friends with whomever I pleased. I only hoped it would not cause a rift between us.
Later that morning, I spent some time with Detective Inspector Hobart and his sergeant in Mr. Hobart’s office. He had already spoken with Mr. Armitage but needed to hear my version of the events that unfolded at the Larsens’ house. When I finished, the detective rose.
“Harry tells me you were quite extraordinary, Miss Fox.”
“Hardly. I gave up the investigation more than once.”
“But resumed each time. You were determined, and determination and persistence are nine-tenths of detective work.”
“I couldn’t have done it without Mr. Armitage’s assistance.”
“You make a good team.”
“I’m only sorry I can’t compensate him for his trouble.
Lord Rumford never promised to pay me, and he has checked out of the hotel anyway.
I’ll write to him today to inform him of events, but I doubt I’ll hear back.
We didn’t part on good terms when last we met.
I’m afraid I was somewhat judgmental of his choice to keep a mistress. ”
He gave me a flat smile. “Harry wouldn’t accept compensation for helping you anyway.” He extended his hand and I shook it. “Good day, Miss Fox. I hope to see you again soon.”
I watched him go, feeling somewhat restless.
It was disappointing that I couldn’t compensate Mr. Armitage for his time.
He deserved something, but I had nothing to give.
I was about to return upstairs, to write a letter to Lord Rumford, when Goliath signaled for me to join him by one of the large vases.
“I heard from my friend at the Savoy,” he said. “The one who overheard a guest mention seeing Lady Rumford at the opera.”
“It no longer matters now that the case is over. Lady Rumford’s reason for being in London has nothing to do with Pearl’s murder.”
“I know, but don’t you want to know why she didn’t tell anyone she was here?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “It’s a little scandalous.”
“Then I’m all ears.”
“According to that same lady that my friend overheard the first time, Lady Rumford has been seen with a man, several times.”
“She has a gentleman friend?”