Page 39 of Murder at the Mayfair Hotel
“Mr. Hobart claims she knew nobody at the hotel,” I said. “All we know is she recognized someone.” I kept the information about Mr. Armitage being one of those men to myself. Until I knew if they would take his side or not, I wouldn’t tell them.
“You say the latest she could have been poisoned is six AM,” Edith said to me in her mousy voice.
“According to the medical expert, yes.”
“And I was there at seven.” She bit on her lower lip and looked down at her lap.
“What is it?” Harmony asked. “If you know something, Edith, you must tell us.”
“I… I’m not sure if it’s important.”
“Tell us anyway.”
Edith clasped her hands together in her lap. “I don’t want to get her into unnecessary trouble. But if it might be important…” She drew in a deep breath and seemed to decide that telling us was the best course. “After I came out of Mrs. Warrick’s room and spoke to the gentleman from the room opposite, I raced off to tell someone. I would have sought out Mr. Armitage, because I didn’t think Mr. Hobart would be in that early, and Mrs. Kettering frightens me. But I found her in the corridor on the third floor.”
Harmony gasped. “On Mrs. Warrick’s floor.”
Edith’s gaze connected with Harmony’s. “She usually checks the linen stock first thing in the morning.”
Harmony nodded. “You’re right. She shouldn’t have been there.”
No one said it out loud, but we were probably all thinking it. If Mrs. Kettering had poisoned Mrs. Warrick an hour beforehand, at six, she might have stayed in the vicinity to wait for the body to be discovered. It was a chilling thought, but not out of the realms of possibility. I’d read about murderers loitering near the scene of the crime to witness the response to their gruesome handiwork.
Edith shivered again, and this time I did too.
Victor checked the clock and pushed off from the wall where he’d been standing. He opened the door to see Mr. Armitage there.
“Sorry, sir,” he said. “My shift’s about to start.”
Mr. Armitage moved aside to let him pass then looked in on us. “Are you lost, Miss Fox? Or are you having another adventure?”
I indicated the teacup beside Edith. “Harmony and Edith were kind enough to ask me in for a cup of tea.”
“You do know you can get tea sent up to your room at any time. You simply have to talk into the speaking tube and someone in the kitchen will hear your order.”
“Thank you, the device has been explained to me. But it’s lonely drinking tea in my room by myself. I’d rather have company.”
He opened his mouth to say something but must have thought better of it. He simply nodded and walked off.
Edith rose. “I’d best return to work.”
I parted from the two maids outside the parlor and headed into the foyer, where I spotted Mr. Armitage striding towards the senior staff corridor. I raced after him, determined to have a word with him in Edith and Harmony’s favor. While I didn’t see anything wrong with having tea with them when they weren’t working, I wasn’t sure he saw it that way. He might be a stickler for societal rules and not want the staff mixing socially with the owner’s family. I didn’t want to get anyone into trouble, so if I could smooth down some ruffled feathers, I would.
I rounded the corner just as the door to one of the private chambers closed. It wasn’t his, however. I was quite sure he’d pointed it out as belonging to Mrs. Kettering when he’d taken me on the tour. Why would he go into her room? Had he overheard us talking in the parlor and thought as we did—that Mrs. Kettering shouldn’t have been on the third floor on the morning Mrs. Warrick died?
I was considering whether to wait for him to come out and confront him when Mrs. Kettering herself suddenly entered the corridor from the foyer. She walked past her office and paused upon seeing me.
“Miss Fox,” she said curtly. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m looking for you, as it happens.”
“My office is there.” She pointed behind her at the door labeled with her name.
“So it is.”
She scowled. “Is something the matter with your room?”
“May we speak in your office?” I spoke loudly enough so that someone on the other side of her bedroom door could hear. If Mrs. Kettering were the killer then it was in both Mr. Armitage’s interest and mine that he not be caught.
