Page 15 of Murder at the Mayfair Hotel

Idirected Harmony to my sitting room but she refused to sit on the sofa. “I’m all right. Just a little shaken.”

I poured her a glass of water from the jug and handed it to her. She wrapped both hands around it and drank.

“Better?” I asked when she passed the glass back.

She rose and smoothed down her apron. “Thank you, Miss Fox. Now, come and take a seat at the dressing table, and let’s do something pretty with your hair. Lord! I almost forgot! Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, although there’s nothing merry about it now. That poor woman.”

Harmony still looked shaken, but her hands were steady enough as she brushed out my hair. Her gaze, however, seemed unfocused. “I don’t understand, though,” she said, as if we’d been in the middle of a conversation. “Why would one of the staff want to poison her?”

“Poisoned!”

“The police are questioning Danny, the footman who brought her hot chocolate last night.”

“They think he did it?”

“It seems so.”

“Does he have a motive?”

“Motive?” she echoed.

“A reason for killing Mrs. Warrick?”

She scooped my hair back with the brush, letting it cascade over her other hand. “She reported him after he spilled hot chocolate on her fur coat the night before last. He ruined it, so she said. She demanded the money to replace it be taken out of his wages.” She clicked her tongue. “It would take Danny a year to replace something so valuable. He was cross with her, and quite rightly so, but not enough to kill her.” She stopped brushing and her gaze connected with mine in the mirror. “I’m worried the police will think it is reason enough. Lord knows, men have hanged based on less evidence.”

“I’m sure the manager will vouch for Danny.”

She put down the brush and started parting my hair. “Mr. Hobart is a good man.”

“So the police are here now?”

She nodded. “They’ve inspected the room and taken the cup away for testing. They’re about to interview staff.”

“That’s promising. It means they’re keeping an open mind and don’t blame that particular footman.”

“True, but what if they come up with another suspect amongst the staff? No good will come of this for us,” she warned. “We’ll all be tainted now, from the lowliest scullery maid right up to your uncle. The bad publicity will cause all sorts of problems, particularly if the killer isn’t caught before the ball. Can you imagine if the ball is canceled? That’s our major event of the winter. If it’s canceled, the reservations will follow. It could be a disaster for the hotel.”

My uncle must be very worried. The newspapers would relish splashing details of the murder across their front pages.

Harmony placed some hair pins between her lips and spoke around them. “Sir Ronald will want the killer caught quickly to minimize scandal. I’m afraid the police won’t be thorough enough in their search for the killer, and will blame the easiest culprit.”

“Danny.” I handed her more pins as she used up the last between her lips. “Don’t worry about an elaborate arrangement this morning, Harmony. The sooner you’re done, the sooner I can find out what’s happening.”

It might not be my business, but I wanted to know more details. My uncle could railroad the police into rushing their investigation for the sake of the hotel’s reputation. And as Harmony feared, the person to suffer could very well be an innocent employee.

* * *

I foundFloyd yawning in the corridor just outside his father’s office. Low voices could be heard on the other side of the door, but other than being male, I couldn’t determine who they belonged to.

“Merry Christmas,” Floyd said wryly. “By the look on your face, I suspect you’ve heard.”

“I did. How awful.”

“Father is beside himself with worry. He’s talking to the police now, but they’re refusing to make an arrest without more evidence.”

“I’m glad they’re being thorough.”