Page 17 of Peril in Piccadilly
“Height?” Tom asked. “Weight? Age?”
“Tallish?” Laetitia ventured, although she didn’t sound certain. “Youngish? But it was only a glimpse. I...” She flushed, “I hid before I could notice much.”
“That was probably the safest thing you could do,” Tom told her, kindly. “We’ll check with the neighbors, in case anyone else saw him arrive or depart. If you could do me the courtesy of having a look around, to see whether you can spot anything else that might be missing? You would know where the small and valuable objects are, I assume.”
Laetitia nodded.
“Finchley started fingerprinting Laetitia’s toiletries table,” I told Tom. “Is there anything you want us to do that would help you?”
He eyed me for a moment in silence. “I don’t suppose you know anything about any of this?”
“Nothing whatsoever,” I said cheerfully. “You told Christopher and me about the burglary in Mayfair in August. That would have been at Lady Latimer’s, I assume. Laetitia told us about the Cummingses being robbed. Finchley said there have been five burglaries altogether, but he wouldn’t tell me who the other victims are. He said I would probably recognize the names if he did do, though. Based on that, they’re clearly people of quality, although that goes without saying, really. If you’re going to steal, you go where the money is.”
Or in this case, the jewelry.
Tom nodded. “You and Lady Violet Cummings are friends, aren’t you? She was there at your engagement party.”
This was directed at Laetitia, not me. Lady Violet and I are certainly not friends. Nor are Lady Violet and Laetitia. Friendly acquaintances, perhaps, in the way that all Bright Young Things are friendly acquaintances, but the only reason that Laetitia had invited Violet Cummings to Marsden Manor for the party, was that she had wanted to rub her engagement to Crispin in Violet’s face.
Laetitia nodded, if reluctantly.
“Do you also know Lady Latimer?”
“I think my mother does,” Laetitia said. “Or her mother did. Lady Latimer isold.”
Tom’s lips twitched, but instead of saying anything else, he turned to Christopher and me. “You two should go home. You know nothing about this, and can’t be of any more help to me.”
I’m sure I looked mutinous. I had hoped he would ask about the other victims of the burglaries, and now I had missed out on that knowledge. Christopher looked reluctant—he would much rather be where Tom was, and in a house this size, it wasn’t as if we’d be in the way—but he nodded.
Tom turned to Crispin. “I don’t need you to stay any longer either, although I would like to ask your fiancée a few more questions in private. You’re welcome to stay for that, and then, if you wouldn’t mind, if you would take Kit and Pippa home?”
Crispin nodded. “Of course.”
He glanced at Laetitia, who looked at him with huge, limpid eyes. Crispin turned back to Tom. “After your questions, would it be acceptable if I took Laetitia back to Dorset? We didn’t come prepared for a long stay, and I don’t think there’s much more she can tell you.”
Tom nodded. “I don’t see why not. We can reach you by telephone if we have any more questions.”
He wiggled his fingers at Christopher and myself. “Out you go. Wait by the motorcar. Your cousin will be there to take you home in a minute.”
“Don’t do us any favors,” I said sourly, because my knees hurt getting up, and Crispin gave me a look.
“You’re as stiff-legged as a wooden board, Darling.”
Laetitia cleared her throat, and he added, “Philippa. The less you walk and irritate those scabs, the sooner they’ll heal.”
“Yes,” Tom cut in, “tell me what happened to you again, Pippa?”
“I fell down the stairs to the Piccadilly Circus tube stop,” I said, as I moved carefully towards the foyer, with Christopher’s arm for support. “After supper and the theatre last night. There was nothing sinister about it, everyone’s suspicions to the contrary. Someone stumbled and took out the rest of us like ten-pins.”
Tom winced. “But you’re all right?”
“I’m fine. Give me a week, and I’ll be back to normal.”
“Well, you definitely shouldn’t take the tube home. Let St George take you.”
“I wasn’t going to take the tube,” I said irritably. “I thought we might find a Hackney. It’s late enough now that I’m sure London has woken up.”
There was daylight creeping in around the edges of the drapes, so the sun had risen in the time we had been sitting here, and there was sure to be a Hackney somewhere on the street.
