It was obvious the woman was having trouble saying what she needed to say. Cecily frowned. “What could be the problem then?”
Lady Roslyn glanced around the foyer, to where a group of people stood chatting at the foot of the stairs. Then she leaned forward and whispered, “I’m afraid you have a thief in the Pennyfoot.”
“What?” Startled, Cecily had spoken louder than she intended.
Several of the guests turned their heads to look at her.
“Oh, dear,” Lady Roslyn murmured. “I did so want to avoid causing a panic.”
“It’s all right. I don’t think they heard what you said.” Cecily waved and nodded at the group, some of whom waved back, then resumed their conversation. “What do you mean, a thief? Have you had something stolen?”
“An extremely expensive diamond pendant and a string of valuable pink pearls.”
“Oh, my.” Cecily clutched her throat, then quickly dropped her hand as someone from the group glanced at her. “When was the last time you saw them?”
“When my maid unpacked my luggage. They were in my jewelry case in the top drawer of my dresser.” Lady Roslyn shook her head. “I should have asked to put them in the safe, but we were too tired to bother that night and I didn’t think of it again until I looked for my pearls a little while ago.” She sighed. “Now I wish we hadn’t been so lazy.”
“I really am terribly sorry.” Cecily glanced at the clock. “I can assure you, every effort will be made to find your jewelry and apprehend the thief.”
To her surprise, Lady Roslyn touched her arm with a sympathetic hand. “Please don’t upset yourself, Mrs. Baxter. I know it was no fault of yours. My husband never locks the door when we leave the room. He is a very trusting soul.” She made a face. “I think he will try to be a little more careful from now on.”
“Well, I can’t abide the thought of a thief in the Pennyfoot. I shall certainly look into it and I hope we can return your jewels to you shortly.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Baxter. I knew I could rely on you to do what is right.” With a gracious nod of her head, Lady Roslyn glided away, exchanging a word or two with the group before ascending the stairs.
Cecily waited until the woman had reached the first landing before approaching the stairs herself. One of the men detached himself from the group and stood in front of her, preventing her from moving forward.
“Mrs. Baxter! Is there any news about who killed Ian Rossiter?”
His words had carried across the room and now the entire group of guests turned and stared at her.
Gritting her teeth, Cecily gave Archie Parker a stern look that she hoped conveyed her displeasure. “Not as yet, Mr. Parker. We are waiting for the return of Constable Northcott, which won’t be until after the New Year. So I hope we can all try to forget this unfortunate business and enjoy the Christmas season. All of us at the Pennyfoot Country Club will do our utmost to see that you all have the very best opportunity to do so.”
She had addressed the majority of her remarks to the group of guests, and was rewarded with uneasy smiles and nods from all of them. They moved away, leaving her standing with Archie Parker, who still blocked her way to the stairs.
He gave her a sly glance as she made to step forward, but refused to budge to let her pass. “I heard rumors that it could be that young maid, Gertie McBride,” he said, lifting his hand to shield his mouth. “I can understand why you wouldn’t want to say anything to them.” He nodded his head at the stairs.
Cecily glared at him. “Well, you heard wrong. My chief housemaid was not responsible for the unfortunate demise of that young man.”
“Oh, really. Then perhaps it was his other wife. Ah… Gloria I think her name is. She’s staying here, isn’t she?”
Cecily narrowed her eyes. “Mr. Parker, you seem to be inordinately interested in this murder case. I have to wonder why.”
“Ah.” Archie lifted his chin and stared at the chandelier for a moment or two before looking at her again. “A little hobby of mine, Mrs. B. That’s all. I read a lot of detective novels. Sherlock Holmes-my favorite. Cunning man, that, what?”
“Indeed.” She suppressed a shudder. The obnoxious little man made her feel as if he knew every single thing about her. As he did everyone else. An idea occurred to her, and she leaned forward. “By the way, Mr. Parker, as long as I have your attention, I would like you to suggest a remedy for my husband’s gout. It has been bothering him a lot lately.”
Archie looked confused. “G-gout?”
“Yes.” She gave him a determined smile. “It’s a common complaint. You do have a remedy, don’t you?”
“Oh, of course.” Archie nodded, his nose twitching furiously. “Of course. Yes, indeed. I… ah… I’ll give it to you the next time I see you.”
“Oh, that’s all right. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you. I’ll come with you now to your room, and you can give it to me now.”
“Oh, well, ah…” Archie ran a finger around the inside of his collar. “Actually, I don’t carry my remedies with me while I’m on vacation.”
“Oh, I thought you said you would give it to me.”
“Ah, yes, I did. I forgot.” He coughed. “If you will excuse me-”
“You are not in the business of selling remedies, are you, Mr. Parker.”
Archie sent a hunted look over his shoulder. “Mrs. B., I assure you-”
“One more thing.” She paused just long enough to make sure no one else was within earshot. The group near the stairs had dispersed, most likely having retired to their rooms. “I’m curious to know how you knew that the murder weapon was a candlestick, and taken from the hallstand.”
All the air seemed to rush out of Archie’s lungs. He stared at her, his face set in stone, with not even a quiver from his nose. A subtle change seemed to come over him. He actually seemed taller, formidable, and just a little threatening.
It suddenly occurred to Cecily that she was in a vulnerable position. There was no one in the foyer now. Even Philip had disappeared from behind the desk, no doubt enjoying a late lunch. Most of the guests would now be taking an afternoon siesta in their rooms, or perhaps finishing off their Christmas shopping.
She was alone with a potential killer, and completely at his mercy.
Still huddled on the steps, Gertie raised her head as laughter echoed along the cellar’s damp walls. Her arms felt stiff with cold, and she stretched out her legs, wincing as a cramp knotted her calf.
It was only then that she realized she still had Dan’s coat around her shoulders. A tiny stab of hope lifted her chin. She would have to see him at least one more time. Maybe she could set things straight with him after all. Maybe her Christmas wouldn’t have to be the heartache she’d envisioned.
Slowly she got to her feet and stamped them to get the circulation going again. Dan must be freezing out there without his coat. Then again, he could still be in the kitchen, waiting for her to come back in before he went home.
Galvanized into action, she grabbed the lamp from the wall, turned down the wick, and leapt up the stairs in the dark. Hitting the door with her shoulder, she shoved it open, then hung the lamp on its hook.
The mist was rolling in again from the sea as she crossed the yard, and she hugged the coat closer to her. Dan had to be waiting for her in the kitchen. He just had to be.
She was almost at the kitchen door when someone stepped out in front of her, frightening her out of her wits. In that first instant her heart leapt in the hopes it was Dan, but it was Sid Barrett who stood there grinning at her.
In no mood for his nonsense, she shoved him aside, but he held out his arms, blocking her way.
“What’s yer hurry, beautiful?”
Outraged, she tried to push him aside. “Out of my way, you rotten sod, or I’ll tell madam what a bully you are. She doesn’t like bullies and nor do I.”