Page 104 of Murder at the Mayfair Hotel

The nurse at the front desk nodded at the inspector in greeting and didn’t stop us from going through to the ward. Dozens upon dozens of beds were lined up in rows, some with curtains drawn all the way around. Only one had a constable standing guard.

“Is that necessary?” I asked.

“Until I think her innocent, I must treat her as guilty.” The inspector nodded at the constable who pulled the curtain aside for us. The constable removed a pencil and notepad from his pocket and waited.

Edith lay on her back, her swollen eyes closed. Although the inspector had told me she’d suffered bruising, it still came as quite a shock to see her face all black and blue.

I sat on the edge of the bed. “Edith,” I said gently. “It’s me, Cleo Fox. Can you hear me?”

Her eyes opened to mere slits before closing again. Tears slipped from the corners onto her pillow.

I went to touch her hand but they were both covered in bandages. I settled my hands on my lap. “Edith, I know you did some terrible things, but I also know what happened isn’t your fault. He manipulated you. You just have to tell Detective Inspector Hobart so he knows too.”

She gave a slight shake of her head.

“Why not, Edith?” When she didn’t answer, I said, “He tried to kill you. You owe him no loyalty.”

“That wasn’t him. He wouldn’t do that.”

“We have a witness,” the inspector said. “He saw a man matching Lawrence Conrad’s description push you.”

“Who?”

“Mr. Hookly’s real name,” I said. “You recall that I mentioned he was impersonating Mr. Hookly. I told you in the parlor that day that the real Mr. Hookly was dead. You weren’t surprised, so I suspected you knew.”

She turned away from me. “I won’t say anything that’ll make him look guilty. He loves me, and I love him.”

Behind me, the inspector shuffled his feet. I suspected he disliked leaving the questioning up to someone else, as used as he was to doing it himself.

“He’s married,” I told her.

Her lips parted then closed again and her throat moved with her swallow. I expected more tears but there were none and her voice was surprisingly steady when she spoke. “He must have stopped loving her. She can’t have been a good wife to him.”

“If he stopped loving her, he would have told you all about her. He didn’t. Nor did he tell you his real name. And did he tell you he was a footman?”

“You’re wrong, Miss Fox. He’s a gentleman. He just fell on hard times.”

“He’s a footman. Mrs. Warrick recognized him. He used to work in her friend’s household.”

She closed her eyes again.

“Did he not tell youwhyhe had to poison her?” I asked gently.

“She was a previous lover who was going to kill him.”

“She wasn’t his lover, Edith, and I doubt she threatened to kill him. He planned to murder her from the moment he realized she recognized him.”

“We didn’t plan it!”

Something at the back of mind told me she was lying, but I couldn’t place my finger on why I thought so. “He was kind to you, wasn’t he?”

Edith nodded. “He gave me gifts and sweets, and he told me he was going to marry me just as soon as the money came through on the sale of his mine.”

I hated taking away the one good thing in her life, but it had to be done. That good thing didn’t exist. It never had. “It was just an act, Edith. Not only was he married, but he flirted with me too before he knew I suspected him.”

In hindsight, I wasn’t entirely sure if he didn’t know when I met him in the smoking room. It had been the same day that I’d mentioned my suspicions in front of Edith. It was possible she’d informed him and that was why he’d readily told me about the letter from Lord Addlington. He’d tried to divert my suspicions away from him.

Tears slipped from beneath Edith’s closed eyelids again. My words were finally getting through to her. It was time to exert more pressure.