Page 9 of Murder at the Dinner Party
She locked the butler’s bedchamber door and led the way downstairs to the basement. She was in the process of unlocking the butler’s office when Davey the footman hurried past, adjusting his collar as he went.
“They just arrived home,” he said over his shoulder before disappearing up the stairs. “Nice meeting you, Miss Fox. Pity we can’t chat longer.”
I waited until he was out of earshot before I asked Mrs. Turner my next question. “Will he be made butler now?”
She opened the door and indicated I should go ahead of her. “It’s unlikely. He doesn’t have the experience or the…how shall I put it? There’s a foreign sounding word that starts withg…”
“Gravitas?”
“That’s it. Mr. Hardy had gravitas. He was the perfect butler. Very knowledgeable, discreet and calm in a crisis. We all liked him.” A shadow passed across her face before she cleared her throat and shook it off. “I once asked him if he’d worked in a grander place than this one in his last employment, but he didn’t answer me. I could hazard a guess, though.”
“Please do.”
“I’d say he worked in the country, in one of those manors where they have large dinner parties and house parties that last for weeks. I could picture him butlering in one of those places with dozens of staff under him.” The shadow returned. At the very least, she’d admired him. I wondered if there’d been more than admiration between them, hence her decision to investigate his death.
I scanned the contents of the desk. “The Campbells don’t have a country property?”
“No. Sir Ian’s father lost it some years ago.”
She made it sound like he’d merely misplaced the estate. “How unfortunate.”
“Quite.”
“Are there any more staff here?”
“Just the five of us, now that Mr. Hardy’s gone.”
It didn’t seem like many to me, but I wasn’t an expert on the service requirements of Mayfair households.
Mrs. Turner unlocked the silver cabinet and watched me like a hawk as I looked through it, making sure I didn’t tuck a napkin ring up my sleeve before leaving. She also unlocked the sideboard cupboard where the liquor was kept. There weren’t many bottles inside, but I wasn’t sure how much wine and spirits a butler usually kept close to hand and how much was stored in the cellar.
The desk drawers contained nothing out of the ordinary, just the most current ledger listing household expenses, a box of receipts, and spare stationery.
When I completed my search, Mrs. Turner followed me out of the office and locked the door. “Well? What are your thoughts?”
“It’s difficult to say. There’s very little evidence that he was murdered.”
Her top lip twitched. “My sister tells me you’re very good at solving murders. She doesn’t offer praise lightly, so I’m inclined to believe her. If you think no crime has been committed, well, that will suffice, too.”
“Suffice?”
“The staff are unsettled, particularly Betty. She’s anxious and upset. Davey, too, despite outward appearances. He says he’s going to leave, that he doesn’t feel safe here anymore. I don’t want either of them to go. It’s hard to find good staff. So either find the killer, Miss Fox, or find out for certain that Mr. Hardy died of natural causes. Either result will assuage their fears.”
“I’ll do my best.” I looked to the stairs. “I’d like to talk to Sir Ian and Lady Campbell. Can you announce me, please?”
For a woman who’d shown a limited range of emotions so far, she became positively animated with disapproval. “No, Miss Fox, I cannot just announce you.”
“Why not?”
“You’ve not been invited.”
“But I’m investigating the death of their butler in their own house.”
“They don’t believe a crime has been committed. They won’t talk to you.”
I huffed out a frustrated breath and once again glanced at the service staircase that led to the upper floors. It felt as though I’d asked to be let into Heaven without going through due process at the gates. “Very well. Try to convince them. If you do, contact me at the hotel at any time, either by telephone or in writing. A message will reach me.”
“I will try my best, but I cannot be sure that Sir Ian or Lady Campbell will agree to a meeting.” She glanced up the stairs and leaned closer to me. “It would be quite awful for them if the investigation into Mr. Hardy’s death was reopened.”
