Keeping his gaze firmly on the dog, Samuel stooped to pet her. “We’ll be waiting for you.”
Bursting with excitement, Pansy fled for the door, only to pause as she remembered why she’d come. “Oh, I forgot. Madam said to tell you she wants a carriage at the front door at ten o’clock this morning.”
She barely waited for Samuel’s “Right ho!” before flying across the courtyard on winged feet. She couldn’t wait to tell Gertie. Samuel had actually asked her to go for a walk with him! He’d never asked her before. She’d always been the one to engineer their meetings.
Now she ached for the afternoon to come. Any time she could spend with Samuel was precious time, and she was going to enjoy every single second of it.
It wasn’t until she had burst into the kitchen, busting to tell her friend the great news, that she remembered. It was her afternoon off, and she had already told Lenny she’d meet him at the gate at three o’clock. Now what was she going to do?
Mick Docker had been hard to track down. After calling on his home, Samuel had been redirected to a farmhouse on the outskirts of town, where Mick was working on the roof.
Cecily was quite frustrated when they arrived to find the roofer had already moved on to the next job-at the Fox and Hounds, on the other side of town.
By the time they arrived at the pub, she was seriously thinking about her midday meal. Without Baxter by her side, however, it would be improper for her to take lunch at the pub.
Samuel helped her down from the carriage with a worried frown. “You’re here to talk to Mick about Charlie, aren’t you, m’m.”
Cecily gave him a warning look. “Perhaps. If you’re thinking of telling me, however, that Mr. Baxter would not approve, and that you are not comfortable helping me without his knowledge, then may I remind you that this is certainly not the first time, nor is it likely to be the last.”
Samuel looked even more unhappy. “That doesn’t make me feel any better, m’m.”
“I’m not here to make you happy, Samuel. I’m here to find out if Mr. Docker can tell us anything useful.”
“Yes, m’m.”
Cecily glanced up at the roof. Although she could see no one, the clamor of banging and thudding told her the men were working up there. “Now that we have that settled, perhaps you would be so good as to attract Mr. Docker’s attention, and let him know I wish to speak with him.”
Samuel opened his mouth, looking as if he were about to protest, when the sudden silence took them both by surprise. “Must be time to knock off,” he muttered.
“They are probably going into the public bar for lunch.” Cecily gave him a gentle prod with her elbow. “Hurry, Samuel. I want to speak to Mr. Docker before he goes in there.”
Samuel hurried off, and she took a seat at one of the outdoors tables in the garden to wait for him. By the time he returned, with a frowning Mick Docker in tow, the cold wind had chilled her to the bone.
Anxious to be on her way home, she wasted no time in her quest for answers. “Mr. Docker, do you have any idea where we might find Ellie Tidwell?”
The roofer seemed taken aback by the blunt question. He sat down heavily on the bench opposite her, shaking his head, his eyes dark and wary. “Why would I know where she is? She’s probably run off, that’s what.”
Cecily raised her eyebrows. “Run off?”
“Yes, m’m. Scarpered.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “She was sweet on that footman what got killed. I reckon she saw it happen, got scared, and ran.” He straightened up again. “She’ll be back as soon as she gets hungry enough, you mark my words.”
Cecily narrowed her eyes. “How exactly did you learn that Ellie was missing?”
Mick swiped at his nose with the back of his hand. “I heard the maids talking about it, didn’t I.”
“Did you also know that one of Ellie’s shoes was found in the coal shed last night?”
Mick’s eyes widened. “The coal shed? What the devil was it doing there?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.”
“Look, I don’t know what you’re getting at, Mrs. Baxter, but I don’t know nothing about Ellie or where she might have gone. She and me were done a long time ago. I haven’t even spoken to her since she came back to Badgers End.” He pulled a watch from his vest pocket and studied it briefly before stuffing it back. “If that’s all, m’m, I have to get back to me mates. I only give ’em half an hour to eat, then it’s back on the job.”
Frustrated, Cecily nodded. “Of course. I would appreciate it, however, if you would let me know if you should hear from Ellie.”
Mick laughed as he got up, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “You can rule that one out, m’m. I’d be the last person on earth Ellie would talk to, no matter how much trouble she’s in.” He touched the peak of his cap with his fingers. “Good day to you, m’m.”
“Thank you, Mr. Docker.” Cecily watched him stride off across the courtyard; then, turning to Samuel, she murmured, “Well, that was a wasted journey.”
Samuel looked at her, an odd expression on his face.
Sensing something amiss, Cecily leaned forward. “What is it, Samuel?”
Her stable manager shook his head, then said slowly, “He said he hadn’t talked to Ellie at all since she got back from London.”
“Yes, he did.” Nerves tightening, Cecily waited.
“Well, m’m. I could be wrong, but I could swear it was him I heard Ellie arguing with the night before we found Charlie’s body. I heard her yelling at someone, and I’m sure it was Mick I heard. I recognized his accent.”
“Are you quite sure, Samuel?”
Samuel shrugged. “As sure as I could be, I reckon.”
“What time was this?”
“Around nine o’clock. I’d just finished putting away the last motorcar and locked everything up. I was on my way to my room when I heard Ellie yelling in the kitchen yard. Then I heard Mick yelling back at her.”
Cecily tapped her fingers on the table. “I shall have another chat with Mr. Docker later. Right now, however, we have to return to the Pennyfoot. Mr. Baxter will be wondering where I am.”
At the mention of Baxter’s name, Samuel leapt to his feet. “We’d better go, then, m’m.”
Rising more slowly, Cecily drew her scarf closer around her neck. She was thinking about Mick Docker. Had he lied when he said he hadn’t talked to Ellie? He’d mentioned that the maid was fond of Charlie. Had he seen them together and argued with Ellie that night? Perhaps, driven by jealousy, he’d dropped the gargoyle on Charlie’s head the next morning. It was certainly a possibility, but how in the world would she find out for certain, much less prove it? That was the question.
“You’ll have to tell Lenny,” Gertie said, waving a spoon at Pansy for emphasis. “You can’t just leave him waiting for you at the gate.”
Leaning back against the kitchen sink, Pansy twisted her apron between her fingers, her stomach tied up in knots. “He’ll be cross with me. I daren’t tell him.”
“Just tell him you have to do something else this afternoon. You don’t have to tell him what it is.” Gertie turned her back on her and went on folding serviettes into the shape of swans. “Tell him you’ll go out with him another time.”
“But I don’t want to go out with him. Ever.” Pansy felt a tear forming and blinked it back. “I only said I’d go out with him to make Samuel jealous, and now Samuel’s asked me out so I don’t have to make him jealous anymore.”
“Well, Lenny will be a lot more cross if you don’t tell him and he has to wait in the cold for you and you don’t turn up.” Gertie turned back to face her. “If I were you I’d be there at the gate to meet him.”
“I can’t.” Pansy glanced at the clock. “I’m supposed to meet Samuel at half past two. Lenny won’t be at the gate until three o’clock.”
Gertie pursed her lips. “Looks like you’ve got a bleeding problem then, doesn’t it. Perhaps you should tell Samuel about Lenny and meet him later.”