Page 31 of Murder on Harley Street
As if he’d been summoned, Frank entered the parlor. He stopped short upon hearing his name. “If this is about Mrs. Crighton’s pet dog, I’d like to point out that it’s just a small dog and the hotel doesn’t have a written policy against guests bringing their animals.”
We all stared at him.
“No?” he squeaked. “Forget I spoke.”
Goliath wasn’t prepared to do so, however. “It’s not against any policy, but that’s probably because Sir Ronald never thought of it before. How could you just let her waltz in with it? What if it does its business in the room? Think of the poor maids who’d have to clean it up.”
“She takes it out three times a day for it to do its business in the park. Anyway, who am I to stop a guest from doing something a little naughty?”
“It is your job,” Victor pointed out. “She paid you, didn’t she?”
Frank sniffed. “Mrs. Crighton slips me a few coins to look the other way when she smuggles it into the hotel inside her bag.”
Goliath sat forward and lowered his voice. “Next time she has it with her, give me a sign. I can keep quiet for a fee, too.”
Harmony signaled for me to leave the parlor with her.
“One moment,” I said. “Before I go, I have a question to ask the men. If I were to buy you a gift, what would you like?”
Goliath smiled shyly. “That’s kind of you, Miss Fox, but you don’t have to.”
“It’s not for you. I simply need ideas. I thought polling a few men might help.”
“A watch,” Frank said. “Mine’s broken.”
“New knives,” Victor added, collecting his knife belt.
Goliath tugged on his lower lip in thought. “Two tickets to the theater, one for me and the other so I can win back my girl. She likes theater shows, particularly something with jaunty tunes.”
“Perhaps you should think about the recipient and whathewould like,” Harmony said.
“Is it for your uncle?” Victor asked. “Cousin?”
“It’s not their birthdays,” Frank said, frowning.
Before they remembered the date of Harry’s birthday, I grabbed Harmony’s hand and together we left the staff parlor. As we re-entered the foyer, she asked if I thought the afternoon tea would go on for much longer. “I need to speak to Mr. Chapman about Mr. Lombardi’s dinner arrangements this evening. He has asked me to inform Mr. Chapman there’ll be one less at his table.”
“Why are you liaising for Lombardi? His dinner plans for this evening are not part of his Saturday presentation.”
“It is, in a way. The dinner is for Mr. Lombardi’s most valued clients, who will also come to the presentation. A sort of pre-event gathering to discuss business.”
At least his prior engagement meant my family was saved from having to invite him to join us at our table. Given I needed to meet Harry at an early hour, I was relieved. I would order my meal through the speaking tube in my room and dine there. Hopefully no one wanted to join me.
At eight-thirty,dressed all in black, I flipped up the hood of my cloak as I left the stairwell on the ground floor. The daytime staff had gone home and there weren’t many guests in the foyer. Most would be in their rooms or at dinner or the theater. I was quite sure that with my head down, no part of my face was visible, so I was surprised when my name was called. No, notcalled. Barked out, as if I were a prisoner fleeing from jail.
“Cleo! Halt! Where are you going at this hour?”
Chapter7
“Floyd, what a lovely surprise,” I said, smiling. “You look handsome.” A strong whiff of cologne preceded him as he drew closer. “Are you dining out?”
“Don’t avoid the question, Cleo. Are you sneaking out of the hotel for an investigation or for a man?”
“I am not sneaking.”
He tugged the hood back from my head and arched his brows.
There was no use lying to Floyd. He was too perceptive. He also had some secrets to hide—secrets I was privy to—so I knew I could convince him to keep quiet about my nocturnal activities in exchange for keeping quiet about his. “An investigation, of course. I would never meet a man in the night.”
