Still, none of that mattered now. What mattered was finding that drippy Mr. Parker and getting him to the butcher’s shop. Though, that was something else she didn’t understand. Why would madam want someone like that silly clod to help her with Sid? It didn’t make sense. Then again, nothing much made sense these days. Like her row with Dan.
Gertie started down the hallway to the bar. She should never have suspected Dan of killing Ian. No wonder he was upset. Still, how was she to know what he was doing skulking around the Pennyfoot late at night without telling her he was there?
Misery engulfed her again as she remembered him walking out on her. If he left her, the kids would miss him dreadfully. So would she. The last time he’d left she had been miserable for months thinking about him and wondering what he was doing.
She reached the bar door and peered inside. Several men sat at the tables and at the long counter, but none of them was Archie Parker.
Her next stop was the dining room. Although it was over an hour until lunchtime, she thought he might be in there having a late cup of coffee or something. The room was empty, however, and she suppressed a wave of panic.
What would she do if she couldn’t find him? Madam was waiting for him, and Gloria was with Sid, who might do heaven knows what to her, and there’d be no one coming to help her. It didn’t look as if Mr. Baxter was back yet. What was she going to do?
Gertie swung around, gathering herself to dash down to the library. Just as she was about to launch herself forward, however, a figure stepped out of the shadows, right in front of her.
Gertie shrieked. He’d come up on her so silently she hadn’t heard a thing. Heart pounding, she glared at Archie Parker. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Following you. Someone said you were looking for me.”
Gertie peered at him, puzzled by the transformation in him. He seemed taller, somehow, and not at all drippy. Even his voice had changed. For a moment she wondered if she’d mistaken him for someone else, but then he spoke again, his voice urgent and crisp.
“Why were you asking for me?”
“Madam told me to tell you to meet her at Abbitson’s, the butcher’s shop, sir.”
He frowned. “Butcher’s shop? Where is that?”
“It’s in the High Street, sir.” It was strange, but before when she’d talked to him, she’d resented having to call him sir. Now it seemed the right thing to do.
“Did she say why she wanted to meet me there?”
“Yes, sir. She thinks Sid Barrett killed my… killed Ian Rossiter. He’s taken Gloria… Ian’s widow to the flat over the butcher’s shop because-”
“All right, wait.” Archie held up his hand. “You can tell me on the way there. Come on, we must get a carriage ready right away.”
“Madam’s already gone in the carriage, but you can take a trap, but…” He was walking away from her and she had to hurry to catch up with him. “I can’t go with you, sir.”
“Yes, you can. I don’t know where the shop is and you must show me. Besides, I need to hear everything on the way down there.”
“But I have to get ready for the midday meal.”
“That can wait. I’m not so sure Mrs. Baxter and Mrs. Johnson can.”
Gertie stared at him. “Right.” They had reached the lobby and as she passed the reception desk she called out to Philip. “Tell Mrs. Chubb I had to leave for a while. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She didn’t wait to see Philip’s reaction. It was unheard of for a housemaid to just get up and leave right before the midday rush. Chubby would have a pink fit.
Gertie puffed out her breath. She just hoped madam would understand she had no choice, or she could be in really bad trouble.
CHAPTER 23
With Samuel close on her heels, Cecily marched down the alleyway next to the butcher’s shop and paused in front of a shabby entrance. Twisting the handle with her gloved hand, she pushed the door open and stepped inside the dark hallway.
A cat meowed and slunk past her, escaping into the daylight beyond. Behind her, Samuel growled deep in his throat. “What’s that awful smell?”
Cecily wrinkled her nose. “I imagine it’s animal waste.”
“Ugh.”
Her sentiments precisely. Nothing smelled quite as bad as a butcher’s shop at the height of the Christmas rush. Holding her breath, she climbed the stairs to the flat above.
She had barely reached the landing when she heard a shrill scream from inside the flat. Without wasting another moment, she raised her fist and pounded on the door. “Gloria? Open this door, please. It’s Mrs. Baxter.”
For a long moment she could hear no sound from within. Once more she pummeled the door and this time was rewarded by a muffled whimper. With a warning look at Samuel, she called out, “Open this door at once or we’ll break it down.”
A voice answered her, so full of menace she hardly recognized it as belonging to Sidney Barrett. “Get out of here, before someone gets hurt.”
Cecily tightened her lips. She beckoned to Samuel once more and he came forward, his eyes wide with concern. “Don’t you think we should ring for the constable first?”
“P.C. Northcott is in London,” she muttered. “We don’t have time to wait for a constable from Wellercombe. Besides, Mr. Parker should be on his way, and not too far behind. We just need to play for time until he gets here.”
Samuel’s eyes widened even more. “Parker? What’s he got to do with anything?”
“He’s a private investigator.” Cecily shook her head. “We don’t have time for explanations now, Samuel. We have to get inside that room.”
Samuel eyed the door. He wasn’t exactly a robust young man. In fact, he was rather on the skinny side, but Cecily had seen him in action plenty of times before, and knew he was stronger than he looked. Wrestling with horses all day strengthened his muscles. She wasn’t so sure about his resolve.
“Just throw your shoulder against it,” she said, giving him an encouraging push toward the door. “It looks frail enough. It should give under your weight.”
Sid must have heard her, as he yelled out, “You try coming in here and I’ll make you sorry you ever laid eyes on me.”
Gloria started to call out, too, but her words were cut off as if a hand had been shoved over her mouth.
Samuel sent one last pleading glance at Cecily.
“Now, Samuel.” She patted his shoulder. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Looking even more worried at that assurance, Samuel pulled in a deep breath.
Cecily crossed her fingers and closed her eyes, praying that Archie Parker would get there soon.
A loud thud opened her eyes. Samuel stood in front of the closed door, rubbing his shoulder. “Looks like it’s stronger than we thought.”
Once more Sid yelled. “I’m warning you!”
Samuel frowned. “That twerp is beginning to get on my nerves.” Lifting his foot, he drove his boot into the door, then threw his full weight against it. With an ear-shattering, splintering crash the door flew open and Samuel disappeared.
Before Cecily could draw breath she heard a thud and a grunt from inside the room, and then Gloria screamed. Cecily tore into the room and pulled up short to avoid tripping over Samuel’s crumpled body on the floor. Sid stood over him, a heavy frying pan held in his hand, while Gloria cowered in a corner.
With a cry of dismay, Cecily dropped to her knees. Samuel’s eyes were closed, and he lay motionless, except for the slight rise and fall of his chest. Thank the Lord he was still breathing.
She looked up at Sid, who still held the frying pan aloft as if he would strike again. Anger gave her courage and she glared at him. “Is that how you killed Ian Rossiter?”
His mouth curled into a sneer, though she could see the fear in his eyes. “I don’t let anyone get in the way of what I want. Rossiter made a bad mistake when he stole from me.”