She stared at him in horror. “I? How is that possible?”
“You were in the dining room, seated at the next table to me, and you were talking to your husband about the serial killer. It seemed that more than one person thought that the deaths were the work of the Mayfair Murderer. I decided to foster that assumption. He had apparently left London. He made the perfect scapegoat. According to your husband, however, I needed some kind of signature to leave behind. Something to tie them all together.” Once more he paused, this time pressing his fingers to his forehead.
“Your headache seems to be getting worse.” Taking advantage of the fact that his eyes were closed, Cecily slid sideways again. Now the paperweight was within reach. How much time would she have to grasp it and throw before he struck with the knife?
She knew the answer to that. Not much. Nevertheless, it was the only chance she had. She jumped when Sir Walter spoke again.
“I remembered the kissing bough in the ballroom. I had seen Ellie with that foolish young man beneath it, and I had seen the Danville couple beneath it as well. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. I decided to make the kissing bough my signature to leave behind, which meant the Danvilles had to die, too.” Once again he brandished the knife. “And now, regrettably, it is your turn. I’m sure you must have kissed someone under that thing. Your death, as with the others, will be attributed to the infamous Mayfair Murderer.”
“There is just one flaw to that plan, Sir Walter. The Mayfair Murderer has been captured.”
“Oh. Well, then, the deaths will be attributed to some other serial killer. No one will suspect a respected baronet of such dastardly deeds.”
Deciding to try one last time to reason with him, Cecily held up her hand. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that now. I have sent for the constable. It will only be a matter of time before he arrives to arrest you. He will be far more kindly toward you if you give yourself up, so why don’t you just give me the knife and we’ll go to meet him together. I will tell him how you spared my life and I know he will take that into consideration.”
Sir Walter laughed-a most unpleasant sound. “I don’t think so. The constable is not coming, my dear. You were about to ring him, if I’m not mistaken.” He leaned forward to pick up the telephone. “You never had the chance to talk to him.”
All hope gone, Cecily moved swiftly and grasped the paperweight.
Anticipating her move, Sir Walter jerked backward.
Cecily threw with all her might, and just missed his head by a fraction of an inch. Horrified, she instinctively ducked down behind the desk just as the paperweight crashed into the door.
She heard Sir Walter utter a vicious curse, and braced herself for the cruel slice of the knife.
Then without warning, the door crashed open. There were sounds of scuffling, voices shouting, and a heavy thud, followed by silence.
Her knees trembled so badly she couldn’t seem to get up. She felt strong arms reach for her, and her husband’s desperate voice uttered her name, over and over. She clung to him as he raised her, then crushed her to him.
“Are you all right?” he asked hoarsely, and she nodded.
“I’m not hurt, only scared.” She glanced across the desk to where Sir Walter stood with head down, looking dazed and unsteady on his feet. P.C. Northcott was fastening the killer’s hands behind his back, while Kevin Prestwick looked on. Standing behind them, Clive was rubbing his knuckles.
“Come,” Baxter said, leading her out from behind her desk. “I will take you back to the suite and we will talk there.”
“No.” She held back, anxious to know what was happening. “I need to go back to the library. I hope the guests know nothing of this?”
“Not as far as we know.”
“I’ll be taking this fellow here down to the police station,” P.C. Northcott said, looking at the doctor. “That’s if you will take us in your carriage, Dr. Prestwick?”
“My pleasure.” Kevin Prestwick looked grim. “I’m happy he will be getting exactly what he deserves.”
“I think you will be needing this,” Cecily said, pulling the cravat from her sleeve. “You will find Sir Walter’s tie inside, and the necklace he tore from Ellie’s neck.”
“Oh, well done.” Dr. Prestwick glanced over at Cecily. “Are you sure you are not feeling out of sorts? I can give you a sedative. You might not be able to sleep well after this.”
“I will be quite all right, thank you.” Cecily gave him a wobbly smile. “I really must get back to my guests.”
“Very well.” The doctor waited for the others to leave, then followed them out the door.
The moment the door closed behind them, Baxter drew his wife close again. “I thought he’d killed you,” he muttered, and rested his forehead against hers. “When I rushed in here and didn’t see you I thought-”
She pulled back and laid a finger against his lips. “You should know it would take a far more clever man than Sir Walter to be rid of me.”
He stared into her eyes for a moment, then smiled. “I suppose that means I am encumbered with you forever.”
She returned the smile. “Indubitably, my dear husband.”
Gertie picked up the last silver platter and stacked it on the tray. One final look around the library and she could take the dishes down to the kitchen. The rest of the evening, what was left of it, would be hers. Hers and the twins.
She looked up as the door opened and smiled at Clive as he walked toward her.
“Here.” He held out his hand. “Let me take that down for you. You must be anxious to get back to the children.”
She pulled a face. “I don’t know about anxious. They’re so wild with excitement it will take them hours to settle down to sleep.”
He grinned. “Just tell them Father Christmas won’t come until they fall asleep.”
“I usually do.” She handed him the tray. “Doesn’t always work.”
“They’ll grow up so fast. You’ll miss these days.”
“Yeah, I know.” She looked up at him. “You like children, don’t you?”
“Yes, very much.” He gave her one of his disturbing looks. “Children are what make life worthwhile.”
“Did you never get married?”
“I was married once.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
She wanted to ask him if he had children, but was afraid it might upset him. Deciding it was time to change the subject, she said quickly, “Madam must be so grateful to you.”
Now he looked wary. “Why?”
“She told Mrs. Chubb what happened, and Chubby told me. She said you rushed in her office and punched the daylights out of that horrible man. He would have killed her if you hadn’t been there.”
Clive shrugged. “I just happened to get there first. Mr. Baxter and the doctor were right behind me, and the constable was there, too.”
“Well, I’m proud to know you, Clive Russell.” She looked up at him. “Thank you for being so good to my twins. They really like you.”
“I like them, too.” He looked at her for a long moment, then carried the tray over to the door.
“Here, I’ll open it for you.” She hurried over to him and opened the door. “Thanks for taking the tray down.”
“My pleasure.” He inclined his head, gesturing for her to go first.
She brushed past him, and stepped out into the corridor. “Happy Christmas, Clive.”
He nodded at her. “Happy Christmas, Gertie.”
She was halfway down the hallway when he called out after her. “What about you?”
She stopped and looked back. “What about me?”
“You said the twins like me.”
His grin brought a glow in her cheeks. “I like you, too, Clive.”
A few moments later she opened the door of her room to find the twins waiting for her. Her heart still ached for Dan, and probably would for a long time to come. In another week he would be gone, and she would be alone again.