Page 57 of Murder at the Mayfair Hotel
The detective inspector’s words about all types being capable of murder rang in my head like a bell.
“And I didn’t think it a strong enough reason,” Mr. Chapman went on.
“What reason?”
He glanced behind me at the door again. “I overheard Mrs. Warrick having words with Mr. Hobart in his office. The door was closed but she spoke loudly and I could clearly hear her mention Mr. Armitage’s name.”
I knew from experience that one had to press one’s ear to the door to overhear conversations coming from within. Accidentally overhearing something was impossible. “In what context?” I asked.
“I don’t know. All I heard her say was that Mr. Armitage should be spoken to severely, that she expected better from The Mayfair.”
If she had recognized Mr. Armitage and remembered his past as a thief, the first person she’d tell would be his immediate superior. Not knowing Mr. Hobart was his uncle, she would have told him everything. She expected better from The Mayfair because she did not expect a thief to be employed at a luxury hotel.
It fit neatly. Very neatly. Perhaps Mr. Hobart had tried to deny it or brush it off, and she had then threatened to speak to my uncle. That would have worried Mr. Hobart and Mr. Armitage greatly. With Mr. Hobart knowing Mr. Armitage’s past, he should never have hired him at the hotel. Their subterfuge would be exposed and they would both be ordered to leave the hotel immediately.
That night, before she had a chance to speak to my uncle, one or both of them had silenced her.
I wasn’t sure what bothered me more. That Mr. Hobart was complicit in the crime, or that Mr. Armitage had murdered someone. I’d liked them upon first meeting them. Not to mention that my uncle trusted them implicitly. To think them capable of poisoning Mrs. Warrick to ensure her silence was sickening.
Mr. Armitage had proved to be someone other than what he pretended, however. His coldness towards me could be indicative of something even colder, darker, within him.
“I see I’ve done the right thing in telling you,” Mr. Chapman said, straightening.
My mind reeled and my stomach rolled. The implications of this were enormous. I needed to be very careful and very sure before proceeding.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice thin. “You will be discreet about this, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
I left the dining room and caught the lift to the fourth floor. I hardly heard John as he chatted about the weather. There was just too much to think about. Too much at stake. I needed to be absolutely certain of my theory.
But how?
I stepped out of the lift and saw my uncle about to enter his office. He greeted me warmly.
“How have you settled into the hotel so far, Cleo?”
“Very well, thank you.”
“Flossy and Floyd treating you well?”
“Like a sibling,” I said, meaning it.
“God, I hope not.” He chuckled, but it vanished suddenly. “The death of Mrs. Warrick has dampened the mood here, somewhat. Usually at this time of year everyone’s excited about the New Year’s Eve ball.” He sighed heavily. “Nasty business, and the police aren’t being helpful. The detective refuses to tell me what he’s uncovered so far. Wish he was more like his brother, our Hobart. Good fellow, Hobart.”
I bit my lower lip.
“At least the newspapers haven’t reported any vicious rumors today. Hobart sent Armitage down to the office of that rag,The Evening News, and he threatened legal action on behalf of the hotel. Seems to have done the trick. Can’t have The Mayfair’s good name dragged through the mud, and the Bainbridge name along with it.”
He opened his office door and stepped over the threshold. I stood there, wanting very much to confide in him and yet not wanting to at the same time.
“Is there something else, Cleo? Is it about your allowance?”
“No, it’s not that.” I bit my lip again.
“You’d better tell me or you’ll do yourself some damage.” He smiled as he indicated my lip.
Perhaps there was a compromise, a way of finding out more but not naming names. If he didn’t know about Mr. Armitage’s past, then my theory was viable. If hedidknow then there was no reason for Mr. Armitage to kill Mrs. Warrick.
