Cecily sighed. “We don’t know if the assailant intended to kill him, but at this point P.C. Northcott is anxious to arrest someone for murder.”
Gertie might not have had the benefit of a formal education, but she was astute enough to grasp the implication behind Cecily’s words. “So he wants to bloody arrest me,” she stated flatly.
“Gertie-”
“I didn’t kill him, m’m.”
“I know you didn’t, Gertie. Unfortunately, someone told the constable you threatened Ian with a knife. Tell me, is that true?”
Gertie hung her head. “Yes, m’m. I did.” She looked up again. “Just to frighten him off, though. I would never have used it, m’m. Never. Not even on him.”
“I believe you.” Cecily sighed. “This all seems very unfortunate at the moment, but I promise you Mr. Baxter and I will do everything in our power to find out who was responsible for Ian’s death before the constable returns from his Christmas holiday.”
Hope crept into Gertie’s eyes. “He’s not going to arrest me today?”
“No.” Cecily got up from her chair and walked around to pat Gertie’s broad shoulder. “We promised that you would not leave the hotel until he got back, however.”
Gertie’s chin shot up. “But what about me twins? They was looking forward to a walk on the seafront. It’s Daisy’s day off, and I promised to take them. I’m supposed to meet Dan down there in half an hour.”
Cecily wavered.
Gertie’s dark eyes pleaded with her. “They’ve been so good I hate to disappoint them. Pansy’s coming with me and all, and they love to see her.”
Cecily let out her breath on another sigh. “Oh, well, in that case, I shall hold Pansy responsible for seeing that you return.”
A weak smile flashed across Gertie’s face. “I’ve got to come back, don’t I. I’m not going to leave me twins behind. Besides, it’s Christmas. How can I miss Christmas at the Pennyfoot?”
Her voice broke, and Cecily thought she saw a tear glistening in her housemaid’s eye. A rare event indeed. “Try not to worry.” She gave the young woman another comforting pat. “I promise you we’ll all do our very best to get all this sorted out.”
Gertie sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “I bleeding hope so.” She glanced up at Cecily’s face. “Sorry, m’m. I shouldn’t be using them bad words in front of you.”
“It’s quite all right. Quite understandable under the circumstances.” Cecily returned to her chair. “Now, if I’m going to help you, you must tell me what happened last night between you and Ian.” She gave her chief housemaid a hard stare. “And Gertie, if you don’t want to be sent to prison for something you didn’t do, I suggest you tell me every single word that was spoken.”
CHAPTER 7
Gertie stared down at her hands for a long moment, then drew a shuddering breath. “I was in the kitchen. Must have been about six. Mrs. Chubb was in the laundry room. Michel had gone home and the maids were all in the dining room cleaning up. So I was all alone in there.”
She paused, and Cecily leaned forward. “Is that when you saw Ian?”
“Yeah. He knocked on the back door. I thought it was Dan knocking and I rushed to let him in. Gave me a really nasty jolt to see Ian flipping standing there. I thought he was still in London.”
“So did we all. What happened then?”
“Not a lot. I told him he couldn’t come in. He started arguing. Said he’d come to see the twins and nobody was going to stop him. I could tell he’d been drinking, I could smell it on him. I told him if he didn’t leave I’d call Clive.” Gertie flashed a look at Cecily. “He’s afraid of Clive.” She gulped. “I mean he was.”
Cecily nodded. It wasn’t hard to see why Ian was intimidated by her maintenance man. Ian was not a tall man and his body was quite frail, whereas Clive’s impressive height, broad shoulders, and barrel chest made him look like a giant in comparison. “Go on, Gertie. I’m assuming he didn’t leave right away?”
Gertie shrugged. “No, he didn’t. He started coming in through the door and I backed up to the table. Mrs. Chubb had left a roast on the table for supper. The carving knife was lying next to it so I picked it up. Just to scare him, I swear. I yelled at him to get out before I did something really, really bad to him, like slitting his bleeding throat.” She coughed behind her hand. “Sorry again, m’m.”
“And he left?”
Gertie chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, then shook her head. “He just stood there, arguing back at me. Then all of a sudden Clive appeared in the doorway. He dragged him out and I heard them shouting at each other, then it all went quiet.” Gertie looked up again. “I didn’t hear nothing after that. Clive looked in and asked if I was all right, and I said yes and then he was gone.”
“I see.” Cecily frowned at the ledger in front of her. “And you were quite alone with Ian until Clive arrived on the scene?”
“Yes, m’m.”
“That’s strange.”
Gertie looked puzzled. “What is?”
Cecily smiled at her. “P.C. Northcott said someone told him you had threatened Ian with a knife. He wouldn’t tell me who it was, but I can’t imagine Clive would say anything to him.”
“No, m’m. Clive would never say nothing that would get me in trouble. I’d swear on it.”
“Well, then, in that case, someone else must have heard you, unless-” She broke off as someone rapped on the door.
Gertie looked scared and hunched her shoulders as if bracing for a blow.
Cecily muttered an irritable, “What now?” Then louder, “Yes? Who is it?”
The door flew open and a young woman stepped into the room. She wore a fashionable skirt under a coat trimmed with fox fur, and silk ribbons adorned the wide brim of her hat.
Her face looked vaguely familiar and Cecily frowned. It was customary for one of the footmen to escort a visitor to her office and make an official announcement of her name. This sudden invasion was most unsettling.
Before she could speak, however, Gertie shot to her feet. “Oh, my gawd, it’s Gloria.”
Cecily stared at Gertie, then back at the visitor. “You two know each other? But how-?”
The woman glared at Gertie and walked farther into the room. Scowling at Cecily she said in a low, fierce voice, “I want to know where Robert is hiding.”
Cecily raised her eyebrows. “Robert? I don’t think I know-”
“She means Ian.” Gertie had a look on her face that suggested she was about to be sick. “Remember? That’s Ian’s real name. Robert Johnson. He changed it to Ian Rossiter when he came to work for you so she wouldn’t find him. This is Gloria Johnson. Ian’s real wife.”
“Oh, goodness.” Cecily rose from her chair. “Of course. I thought you seemed familiar but it’s been a good many years and I had forgotten-”
“Where is he, Mrs. Sinclair? Where’s my Robert?”
Cecily swallowed. “Actually, it’s Mrs. Baxter now. I… ah… perhaps you’d better sit down.” She glanced at Gertie, who still stared at Gloria as if she were looking at a hungry lion about to charge. “You, too, Gertie. Unless you’d prefer to leave?”
With a look of sheer relief, Gertie nodded, took another sidelong glance at Gloria, then fled out the door.
Out on the Esplanade, Gertie let the full force of the cold wind blow in her face. After the horrible morning she’d had, she needed something to clear out the tangle of thoughts in her head. Heedless of the wisps of hair escaping from the pins, she stood at the railing and watched the angry waves churning onto the wet sand in a tide of froth and spray.
Maybe she should have told madam everything. Maybe she should have told her how she’d seen Clive later the night Ian died, long after he should have gone home, and how he was soaking wet, as if he’d been out in the snow for a while.