Page 42 of Murder on Harley Street
“Ugh.” She pushed him away. “Keep that talk for your chums and mistresses.”
We three continued up the stairs at a more sedate pace. I was pleased to see Floyd indignant on Flossy’s behalf. The siblings may bicker, but they were each other’s advocate when required.
“Let’s talk about nicer things,” Flossy said when we reached the second-floor landing.
She sounded as though she’d shrugged off Mr. Lombardi’s comments, but I decided to keep the conversation light. I didn’t want to mention the upcoming meeting about Mr. Pierce’s threat and worry her.
“Perhaps you can both help me,” I said. “It’s Harry’s birthday soon and I want to know what to get him. Any suggestions?”
“Nothing,” Floyd growled. “He’s merely your colleague, and you don’t have to buy colleagues birthday gifts.”
“Floyd’s right,” Flossy said. “Mr. Armitage is someone you work with from time to time. You don’t have to get him anything. It’s not as though you’re going to his birthday party.”
Floyd glared at me over the top of his sister’s head. I returned it with an arch look of my own.
Unaware of the exchange, Flossy continued on. “Although if you do want to get him something, Cleo, I’m happy to go shopping with you.”
I squeezed her arm. “Thank you, Flossy. We’ll go shopping regardless.”
She clapped her hands in delight. “Good. There’s no better medicine for the soul than a little jaunt to the shops. I’d like to see Mr. Lombardi try to bottlethat.”
Floyd grunted. “If he could, he would.”
My uncle’soffice was large, but, even so, it felt cramped with all the senior staff, as well as Peter the assistant manager, Floyd and Harmony in attendance. After Uncle Ronald informed them of Mr. Pierce’s threat to disrupt Mr. Lombardi’s presentation, I gave them a description of Mr. Pierce’s appearance. At the conclusion of the meeting, Mr. Hobart and Peter were instructed to inform the rest of the front-of-house staff, particularly the doormen and porters.
Before they all dispersed, I asked them to wait and hear what I had to say. “I learned something troubling about the Bella Vita Company this morning.”
Floyd crossed his arms over his chest. “It can’t possibly be more troubling than Lombardi’s exchange with Flossy.”
Uncle Ronald frowned. “What happened?”
“He called her fat.”
Harmony looked up from her notes with a gasp.
Mrs. Poole rolled her eyes and muttered “Idiot” under her breath.
Uncle Ronald grunted. “I hope you defended your sister’s honor.”
“He did,” I assured him. “What I learned is different. It will affect the entire hotel. His company is in financial difficulty. The Italian newspapers are reporting that he overextended himself and now can’t pay back his loans without closing several factories. I’m worried that he won’t be able to pay for the Mayfair’s services.”
Uncle Ronald stroked his moustache in thought.
Floyd, however, thumped his fist on the desk. “That must be why he keeps changing the subject when I bring up payment. Father, we should cancel the presentation before more money is spent. If he leaves the country before he pays us, we’ll never recoup it.”
“Or we could ask him to pay up front,” Mr. Hobart said. “We could present him with an invoice for what we’ve already spent and say we won’t spend more until it’s settled.”
“And if he doesn’t,thenwe cancel,” Floyd added.
Uncle Ronald continued to stroke his moustache with his thumb and forefinger. “His presentation has led to an increase in guest reservations. We’ll still be out of pocket if he doesn’t reimburse us for the cateringet cetera, but as an advertisement to other companies considering similar events, it could still work out positive for us in due course.”
Floyd scoffed. “You’re going to let him get away with it? Father, the man’s a bounder! He doesn’t deserve to even be allowed to set foot in the Mayfair Hotel, let alone do so for free.”
Uncle Ronald would ordinarily have strong words in response when Floyd disagreed with him, but not this time. “The man is worse than a bounder, I agree, but this requires a delicate touch. I’ll speak to him.”
Floyd pushed himself to his feet. With a disappointed shake of his head, he walked out of the office. Uncle Ronald dismissed the rest of us.
As we exited, Mr. Chapman asked if he could speak to me in private. Given my fractious history with the steward, I was intrigued. Once the others had left, I asked him how I could be of assistance.
