Well, not quite alone. She had her babies, and the Pennyfoot family. The memory of Clive’s shy smile warmed her again. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad Christmas after all.
“That was a very narrow escape tonight,” Baxter said, sternly, as he closed the door to their suite. “Much too close for comfort.”
Cecily had to agree. Seated in front of her dresser, her legs still trembled every time she thought about that knife in Sir Walter’s hand. “Kevin said he thinks Sir Walter has a brain tumor. It makes people do all sorts of things they’d never dream of doing normally.”
“Including mass murders?”
Cecily sighed. “I must admit, it was rather extreme. I feel so sorry for Lady Esmeralda. I saw her leave with Sam Northcott. I could tell she was in a state of supreme shock.” She stared at her husband’s image in the mirror. “Speaking of Sam, how did the constable come to be here tonight?”
“The operator rang him.”
“Operator?”
“Yes. Apparently you took the telephone off its hook to ring someone, and didn’t put it back until some time later. The operator was listening to the conversation, realized something was wrong, and rang for Northcott.”
“Good heavens. There are some advantages to having a meddlesome operator after all.”
“Yes, well, Northcott rang Prestwick and asked him to bring him over in the carriage. He thought it would take too long on his bicycle.”
“Ah, so that’s why Kevin was here. But what about Clive? How did he happen to be there at just the right moment?”
“He was looking for you when he saw Northcott arrive. He came and told me and we reached your office just in time to hear the crash on your door. Northcott and Prestwick were farther down the hallway, but we all made a dash for the door. Clive was the first one to go in and he took the blighter down.”
“How very courageous of him. He saved my life.”
Baxter looked offended. “I would have done the same had I arrived there first.”
“I know you would, dear.” Cecily smiled at him. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve saved me from the hands of a killer.”
“Well, I certainly hope it’s the last.” He walked over to her and sat down beside her on the stool. “So what made you suspect Sir Walter?”
“Remember the handkerchief I found?”
“With the R.M. initials?”
Cecily nodded. “His wife must have noticed blood on his finger. He told her he cut it, and she gave him her handkerchief to cover it. The initials stand for Rosewood Manor. Ellie’s mother told me that Ellie worked there when she was in London.
“Sir Walter mentioned Rosewood when he was talking about the carol singers. That’s when I realized that Sir Walter must have been well acquainted with Ellie.”
“That wouldn’t necessarily mean he killed her.”
“No, of course not, but then I started thinking about the photographs.”
Baxter looked puzzled. “What do they have to do with anything?”
Cecily removed the string of pearls from her neck and laid them in their velvet-lined box. “Sir Walter told you his valet had forgot to pack his white tie, which is why he asked to borrow one of yours for the ball.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well, I knew he had to be wearing a white tie the night before at the banquet. I surely would have noticed if he hadn’t.
“Which made me wonder what had happened to that tie. Just to make sure, I looked at the photographs. There is a very clear image of him wearing a white bow tie. There had to be a reason why he lied about it.”
Baxter’s frown deepened. “Why did he lie about it?”
“He couldn’t wear his own tie because there was a bloodstain on it. He had blood on his hand after tearing Ellie’s necklace from her neck, and must have touched his tie. It’s a silk tie, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to remove the stains, so he asked to borrow one from you.”
“How did you know all that?”
“I didn’t.” Cecily began unpinning her hair. “I knew there had to be a good reason why he wasn’t wearing his own tie, so I thought if I could find it, I might find evidence that would convict him. So I searched his room.”
Baxter closed his eyes with a groan. “I might have guessed. So that’s where you found the tie and the necklace. Still, it wasn’t much for you to take such a chance. After all, he could have simply mislaid the tie.”
“Perhaps, but I also remembered that Samuel had a nasty streak of black on his coat. He said he got it from cleaning one of the cars. He also mentioned that the car was extremely dirty. I realized it could have been coal dust from Ellie’s body. Whoever killed her would have had to find some way of taking her into the woods.”
“How did you know it was Sir Walter’s car?”
She smiled. “A simple process of elimination. There are only three cars in the stables. One belongs to Mr. Mortimer, or rather, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle-” She broke off with a gasp. “I really must get his autograph before he leaves.”
“The Millshires’ car is also in the stables.”
“True. I considered him for an instant, but there again, there was the handkerchief, and the fact that Ellie had worked for Sir Walter.” She was tempted to tell him about Madeline’s prediction, but quickly shunned the idea. “With everything put together, I was convinced I had the killer. All I had to do was prove it.”
“And, as has happened so many times before, you almost died in the process.” He shook his head, his grave glance meeting hers. “When, Cecily? When are you going to give up all this nonsense and live a normal life?”
She sighed. “I don’t go looking for these situations. They come to me.”
“Yes, I know.” He stared down at his hands. “I’m beginning to believe in the Christmas curse. Either the Pennyfoot is cursed or you are.”
She laughed. “I suppose we’ll never know exactly which one it is.”
“There’s one way to find out.” He looked up again, his expression giving her cause to worry. “You could leave.”
The cold feeling in her chest spread rapidly. “We tried that once. We were miserable.”
“You were miserable. I was unhappy because I knew you were.” He drew such a deep breath she saw his chest rise and fall. “Cecily, I have had an offer from a very influential businessman. He purchases properties in foreign lands and turns them into hotels. He wants me to go to these places, oversee the renovations, then hire and train the personnel to run them.”
She stared at him, eyes wide, not knowing quite how she felt. “Bax, darling, that would be so wonderful for you! Seeing all those exotic countries and meeting the people, what an exciting career!” The familiar lump rose in her throat and she swallowed. “Oh, but how I should miss you. I imagine you would be gone months at a time.”
He nodded, his face a mask of wariness. “Months.”
“Well,” she swallowed again, “you must take it, of course. You can’t possibly allow such a wonderful opportunity to slip by. I’ll manage somehow, and we’ll make up for lost time when you are home.”
“He wants you to come with me.”
Now she felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of her body. “What?”
Baxter nodded. “When I told him about your experience with hotel management, he thought we would make a wonderful partnership. I would oversee the renovations, while you train the staff.” He turned her toward him and grasped her hands. “Think of it, my love, being together in places like China, India, Australia, Jamaica. We could meet up with your sons, and see the world together. Can you imagine how exciting that would be? You wouldn’t have time to be miserable.”
Yes, she thought. Exciting. But how could she bear to leave Badgers End and the Pennyfoot again?
He must have known what she was thinking. “Just promise me one thing.”
“All right.”