“But what about your husband? How does he feel about it?”
Doris shrugged. “Well, to tell the truth, he wasn’t all that happy about it at first. I think he was afraid that I’d have such a good time I’d want to go back to it. I couldn’t do that, of course. Not now. Once I told him that, he was all right with it.”
“Well, as long as you don’t mind. As for Daisy, I think she’d enjoy taking care of Essie now and then, if you wanted to give your nanny a little time to herself. Daisy is wonderful with the twins. I’m sure she could handle Essie beautifully.”
Doris nodded. “Maybe I will. You’re right, m’m. Daisy is good with children. I told her she should have some of her own instead of taking care of other people’s children.”
Cecily smiled. “Don’t let Gertie hear you say that. I don’t know what she’d do without Daisy.”
“Oh, Daisy would never leave the twins, m’m. I really think that if she were to get married, she’d want to take them with her.”
Cecily was still smiling about that as she made her way to the ballroom.
There was no sign of Phoebe when she entered, but Madeline was over by the windows, perched on a ladder high enough to make Cecily’s blood run cold.
“What are you doing?” She sped over to the ladder, hands outstretched. “Why aren’t the footmen doing that for you?”
Madeline turned her head to look down at her, her arms full of red velvet ribbons. “The footmen don’t know the difference between a bow and a loop, that’s why.” She tilted her head to one side. “You seem tense, my friend.”
“Tense? I’m practically rigid. Do come down from there before you hurt yourself.”
Madeline’s melodious laugh echoed up to the ceiling. “You know me better than that, Cecily dear. I can take good care of myself. Nevertheless, since it disturbs you so much, I’ll come down. I’m just about finished here, anyway.”
She leaned back to survey the gold and silver garlands she’d strung above the tall windows and looped all the way across the balconies.
“It looks marvelous,” Cecily declared. “Absolutely perfect. Now come down and I’ll have the footmen put up the bows tomorrow.”
Madeline descended the ladder far too swiftly in Cecily’s opinion and landed lightly on her feet at the bottom. “I have to gather holly and mistletoe from the woods in the next day or two. Kevin can bring them here in the carriage before he goes on his rounds.”
“I could have Samuel take you, if you’d prefer.” Cecily took the ribbons from her and laid them on a nearby table. “Just tell me when you want to go.”
“That would be wonderful, thank you. I hate asking Kevin when he’s so busy. This cold weather has filled his surgery with patients.” Madeline gave her a sharp, intense scrutiny. “Something else has happened, hasn’t it. Another victim of the Christmas Angel.”
Her friend’s remarkable ability to read her mind never failed to impress Cecily. “Yes, I’m afraid you’re right.” She went on to recount her visit to the Mackerbee farm.
“Everything seems to come back to Basil Baker,” Cecily added, as Madeline wound the ribbons up into balls and fitted them into a basket. “Yet everyone I talk to insists that he simply isn’t capable of murder.”
“And what do you think?”
Cecily picked up a ribbon and began winding it. “I don’t know what to think. I do know that given enough incentive, we are all capable of taking another’s life. But these seem such senseless, cold-blooded killings. I just can’t imagine the young man I spoke with being responsible for such evil.”
“What I find most disturbing is the locks of hair being taken from the victims.” Madeline took the ribbon ball from her and placed it in the basket. “It suggests that our killer is dabbling in the occult. There are certain… rituals that can be performed with locks of hair belonging to the deceased.”
Cecily felt a chill. “Such as?”
“Well, there are fortunate ones, such as passing on inherited talents to the descendants, and there are evil ones, such as sending souls to the devil.”
“You think our killer is performing one of these rituals?”
Madeline shrugged. “I can’t think of any other reason why he would take a lock of hair from all of his victims.”
“He could simply be trying to confuse everyone into thinking the murders were committed by an evil spirit or something.”
“He could. On the other hand, the murders could have really been committed by someone in league with an evil spirit.”
Cecily shivered. “If that’s so, I am at a distinct disadvantage.”
Madeline paused, one long ribbon dangling from her hand. “Whoever your killer is, Cecily, be warned. There is a diabolical mind behind these acts of violence, and such hatred has destroyed all reason. I beg you, be careful.”
“I shall, never fear.” Shaking off a surge of apprehension, Cecily smiled. “Now come, share a glass of sherry with me before you go out in the cold. I’ll have one of the footmen take you home.”
“No need.” Madeline packed the last ribbon away and shut the lid on the basket. “Kevin is stopping by to fetch me. He should be here any minute.”
“Oh, good.” Cecily led the way to the door, pausing to admire the golden garlands and silver bells hanging above the stage. “I would like a word with him, if he has time.”
“He always has time for you, my dear.”
Something in the way she said it made Cecily wonder if her friend knew that at one time, Dr. Kevin Prestwick had paid a great deal of attention to Cecily.
That was long before he’d married Madeline, of course, and even he must have forgotten about it by now. The one person who hadn’t forgotten was Baxter. He always acted somewhat antagonistic when in the presence of the good doctor, yet whenever Kevin needed help, Baxter was always the first one there to offer it to him.
As it was, Kevin was talking to Baxter in the foyer when she and Madeline arrived there.
“Ah,” Baxter said, when he spotted Cecily. “I do believe this is my wife, though I see her so rarely these days I’m not sure I recognize her.”
“Piffle.” Cecily smiled at the doctor. “Take no notice of him, Kevin. He’s still having trouble finding the Christmas spirit.”
Kevin reached for her hand and pressed it to his lips. “It is indeed a great pleasure to see you again, Cecily.”
Baxter muttered something under his breath, and she warned him with a quick frown.
“Likewise.” She pulled her hand from Kevin’s fingers. “I was wondering if you have time for a quick word or two?”
Kevin glanced around the empty foyer and lowered his voice. “About the recent murders, I presume?”
Cecily also looked over her shoulder. Satisfied they were alone, she asked, “What can you tell me about them?”
“Not much.” Kevin hunched his shoulders. “They were brutal. The victims were obviously attacked by someone in a great rage. All three had a chunk of hair missing and a stamp stuck on their forehead.”
“All three?” Baxter’s sharp voice interrupted. “There’s another one?”
Cecily cursed herself for forgetting she hadn’t told him. “Yes, dear.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, I should have mentioned it. Mr. Mackerbee from Mackerbee’s pig farm. His wife found him stabbed to death.”
Baxter eyed her with suspicion. “When did you come by this information?”
“Last night, dear. I didn’t want to spoil the evening by bringing up such a morbid subject, and I quite forgot to mention it this morning.” She sent Madeline a meaningful glance, hoping that her friend would interpret it. It would save a lot of awkwardness if Baxter wasn’t informed of her visit to the Mackerbee farm.
True, he had grudgingly given his blessing for her investigation, but the less he knew, the less he worried, and the more freedom she’d have to continue.
Even so, he eyed her now with alarm. “This is beginning to sound as though we have an exceptionally dangerous criminal lurking out there.”