Page 92 of Murder at the Mayfair Hotel
Mr. Armitage stared at him for a long moment. “She—”
“No, I didn’t help,” I said before he could tell the truth. “Mr. Armitage returned to the hotel earlier and spoke to Mrs. Kettering alone. I saw him come out of her office with an odd look on his face, and that’s when he told me he’d solved the crime.”
Mr. Armitage turned his glare onto me. I lifted my chin and glared back.
“So how did you discover it was her?” Uncle Ronald asked Mr. Armitage.
I opened the door and ushered Mr. Armitage out. “There’s no time to explain now. He has work to do.” I closed the door, but not before I noticed the amused gleam in my uncle’s eyes.
“You can’t come with me,” Mr. Armitage said. “Two of us watching her will be too obvious.”
“I don’t plan on coming with you. The theft is your mystery to solve, not mine.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to attempt to solve the murder alone, are you?”
“I believe we agreed to leave it to your father. Peter really did just telephone Scotland Yard.”
We parted ways at the staircase. He headed up and I went to my suite. But I didn’t stay inside for long. I couldn’t stop thinking about the murder and Edith’s involvement. Had she been complicit? Did she willingly hand over the key to her lover so that he could poison Mrs. Warrick in the night? Or had he stolen it from her? Had she known Hookly intended to kill Mrs. Warrick, or had it come as a shock?
Despite promising I wouldn’t investigate, I felt compelled to. After all, there was someone close by who could give me a clue as to Edith’s reaction on the morning she discovered the body. The guest opposite Mrs. Warrick had seen her both before she went in and immediately after. If anyone could speak about her initial reactions, it would be him. And he was just one floor below.
* * *
Mr. and Mrs. Sellendidn’t have a suite with a sitting room, and since Mrs. Sellen was getting ready for the ball inside, her husband agreed to talk to me in the corridor, but only after I introduced myself and explained that I was assisting hotel management and Scotland Yard to find the murderer. Mr. Sellen said he was happy to help as he was worried the murderer had not yet been caught. He and Mrs. Sellen had decided to stay on for the ball because Sir Ronald spoke to them personally and offered them a free night’s accommodation.
“It was definitely seven,” Mr. Sellen said in answer to my question. “I checked the clock as I got out of bed.” I was pleased to see he wasn’t an old man, nor did he wear glasses. He should have been able to see the clock face as well as Edith’s expression.
“You told the police that you saw the maid with the cup of tea for Mrs. Warrick as you collected your newspaper,” I said, recalling what Edith herself had told me. “Is that true?”
“Yes. She was standing right there.” He nodded at the door numbered three-two-four. The room had remained unoccupied ever since the police removed Mrs. Warrick’s body. “She saw me, nodded, and turned away.”
“Did she seem nervous to you?”
“In what way?”
“Did her gaze meet or avoid yours? Did her hands shake or did she seem pale?”
“Nothing that can’t be attributed to shyness.”
That sounded like Edith. As much as I wanted to solve this crime, I didn’t want to find out that Edith was involved. She had certainly played a role in the murder, but I dearly wanted it to be an unwilling part.
“Did you see anyone else in the corridor?” I asked.
He shook his head. “It was too early for most, I suspect. I’m not usually up at seven, but a noise awoke me that morning.”
“What kind of noise?”
“A bang, like something knocking the door or wall.” He indicated the closed door behind him. “It must have been loud to wake me. I sleep like the d—” He cleared his throat. “I sleep heavily. My wife does too. The knocking woke her as well.”
“So it wasn’t a scraping sound? Or voices?”
“It was definitely a knock or bump. Is that important?”
“It might be,” I said, thinking it through.
It was odd for there to be a bump at that time. Edith hadn’t mentioned it. She’d been alone, carrying a cup of tea. She didn’t carry anything that could make a knocking sound if dropped, and there was no reason she’d walk into the wall along a straight corridor. The knock was out of place.
Unless it was done on purpose.
