Page 100 of Peril in Piccadilly
When the body washed up on shore. Right.
“I would rather not think about it,” I said. “But you recovered all the jewelry?”
“Most of it. We’ll have to show it to the victims once we’ve dealt with the dead body in Thornton Heath, but I expect it will all match up. Except for the peacock brooch. Although there are a few other emerald and sapphire pieces that might explain it.”
Such as the engagement ring he had offered me, I supposed.
“It’s the maître d’ from the Savoy Restaurant,” I said.
“Who is? The corpse at Thornton Heath?”
I nodded. “I’m fairly certain. I didn’t get a good look, and he wasn’t looking quite like himself when I saw him—” A brief vision of the bloated, discolored face appeared in front of my inner eye, and I swallowed, “—but I think so.”
“He met with the chap after luncheon at Sweetings,” Christopher said. “I followed him across the street to the church?—”
“St Mary Aldermary?” I exchanged a glance with Crispin, who winced.
Christopher nodded. “The bloke was waiting for him there. They must have arranged it beforehand, because neither of them looked surprised to see the other.”
No, that had probably happened on the Saturday afternoon after tea. The maître d’ had handed Wolfgang a note. Wolfgang had put me in a Hackney and gone back inside the Savoy. By the time I got back to the hotel, the maître d’ had not been at his post outside the restaurant. They must have been together, arranging their next meeting.
“I got the impression that Natterdorff was supposed to give the other bloke money,” Christopher added. “He handed him a brown bag and told him to count it, and when the chap’s attention was elsewhere, Natterdorff hit him on the back of the head with something.”
I winced. “And you?”
He made a face. “He realized I was there, and came after me. I couldn’t run fast enough in the stupid strap shoes to get away.”
Well, no. It’s difficult to run in high heels, and Wolfgang was quite a few inches taller than Christopher to begin with, with correspondingly longer legs. “What I meant,” I said, “was whether he hit you too.”
He shook his head. “At first I think he thought I was a woman. I gave that away when I opened my mouth, and after that, he knew who I was.”
“But he didn’t hurt you.”
“He told me that you wouldn’t like it,” Christopher said, “and that as long as I cooperated, I would be fine.”
“So you cooperated?”
This was Tom’s question—it would never occur to me to question it—and Christopher’s brows lowered. “Was I supposed to not do?”
“No, of course not,” Tom said. “I’m glad you did.” He shot a look at me, and then one at Crispin. “We’re all glad you did.”
I nodded. “Of course,” Crispin said. “Whatever kept you safe, Kit.”
“Well, he made me get in the back of the motorcar with the bloke, and then he drove us to the house in Thornton Heath. By the time we got there, the bloke was dead.”
He shuddered. “I’m sorry we made you sit in the back of the motorcar with Frederick Montrose’s body that time in June, Pippa.”
“It’s all right,” I said, although I was glad for the sympathy. It had been a rather harrowing experience. “And then he locked you in the room upstairs?”
“And doped me to the gills,” Christopher nodded. “I asked for a chance to write you a note, but he said no. I think he was afraid that I would manage to get you a message in code or something. He didn’t seem to realize that having me write and tell you I was all right would have been preferable to not telling you anything, since that would only make you more frantic.”
I nodded, fervently.
“And then he said that he was going to put me to sleep, but it would only be for a few days, and as long as I cooperated he wouldn’t hurt me, so I cooperated. Until I woke up and he wasn’t there, and then I made tracks.”
He reached for another piece of toast. We all watched as he folded it into his mouth and chewed.
“I suppose that’s it,” Tom said after a moment. “It explains it all, I think. His grandfather cut him off, so he began stealing to keep himself afloat financially. He spent the money, no doubt, but it seems he held onto most of the jewelry. Perhaps he planned to pawn it in Germany, where it was less likely that anyone would recognize it.”
