Page 63 of Peril in Piccadilly
He had clearly dressed in a hurry, because his collar was askew and he was still tying his tie as he came across the floor towards us. After he had pulled the door open and joined us on the top step, he began buttoning up his jacket.
“What happened?” he wanted to know, between one button and the next.
“Christopher didn’t come home last night,” I explained, “so I rang up Sutherland Hall to ask whether St George had heard from him. I rang up Scotland Yard and Beckwith Place, as well; there will be a message for you when you go in. And then St George drove up to Town?—”
Tom shook his head. “Never mind that. What do you mean, Kit didn’t come home last night? Where is he?”
“If we knew that, we wouldn’t be here,” Crispin told him. “He and Philippa went out together in the middle of the day yesterday. He escorted her to Sweetings on Queen Victoria Street, where she was meeting Wolfie?—”
“That’s not important right now, either,” I interrupted. “At least I don’t think so. I left Christopher on Queen Victoria Street at one o’clock. I haven’t seen him since.”
“Where was he going from there?” Tom asked.
“That’s the thing,” I answered, and I’ll admit that I squirmed somewhat guiltily as I said it, “he wasn’t going anywhere. Or nowhere I know. He planned to stick around and then follow Wolfgang home after he and I parted ways.”
Tom’s eyebrows rose. “And why would he do that?”
I explained again about Wolfgang and the Savoy, and ended with, “We were curious, that’s all.”
“Of course you were.” The tone indicated a distinct lack of sympathy with our curiosity.
“Don’tyoufind it curious?” Crispin wanted to know. When Tom didn’t answer, he continued, “There can only be one logical reason why the man would leave the Savoy but continue to use Savoy letterhead in his correspondence with Philippa, and that’s to make her believe he was still staying there.”
“Perhaps he’s merely being frugal,” Tom suggested, a bit dryly, “and he didn’t want to spend the money on extra notepaper if he didn’t have to?”
Crispin scowled at him. “When was the last time you left a hotel after a stay and took their stationary with you so you could continue to use it after you left?”
“Never,” Tom admitted cheerfully. “Simmer down, St George. Just because it’s unusual doesn’t mean it’s criminal.”
“We didn’t say it was criminal,” I pointed out. “Just that it seemed a funny thing to do. And can you think of any reason anyone would do it, other than to give the impression that he’s still a guest?”
“I can think of a few fraudulent ways that it could be used,” Tom said, “although there have been no reports of anything like that from the Savoy.”
”That reminds me,” I said. “I wanted to ask you—or rather, I think Christopher did—whether there had been any reports of thefts at the Savoy during the last few months.”
“Thefts?” Tom repeated. “I’m sure there must have been a few, although I can’t think of an instance off the top of my head. But those things do happen, especially to tourists. And of course the Schlomskys stayed at the Savoy while they were in London. That was kidnapping for profit, not theft, but it was a criminal act even so.”
“I’m not worried about that.” I waved it off. “Wolfgang had nothing to do with that.”
Tom’s brows rose, and so did Crispin’s. “Did you just accuse Wolfie of theft, Darling?”
“No,” I said crossly. “As I said, this was Christopher’s idea.”
“Christopher accused Wolfie of theft?” Crispin echoed, at the same time as Tom asked, “That theGrafvon Natterdorff has something to do with the jewelry thefts we’ve been investigating?”
“I think,” I said, “that he just thought it was interesting that Wolfgang had moved out but without telling me where he had gone, and that he knew, or at least had met, several of the victims. Lady Violet Cummings was at that weekend party at Marsden Manor a few weeks ago, remember?—”
“I’m hardly likely to forget that she was almost murdered right in front of me,” Tom nodded.
“And the night that Laetitia’s engagement ring was stolen, Wolfgang and I had seen her and St George at the Criterion Restaurant. She was wearing the ring as well as the earrings, and the missing pearl necklace, as well.”
“So Natterdorff knew that Lady Laetitia was in London that night, and that the jewelry was with her, and that she was likely to be busy with other things.”
“I suppose so,” I said, with a glance at Crispin, whose cheekbones were pink along with the tips of his ears.
“I’m not certain I appreciate your insinuation, Gardiner,” he muttered.
“I’m quite certain you don’t,” Tom answered blandly, “but that doesn’t change the fact that it was a logical assumption. I don’t think anyone thinks that the two of you aren’t enjoying your marital privileges ahead of time.”
