Page 72 of Murder at the Mayfair Hotel

“You can’t know all of the staff that well, Harmony. Perhaps one of themisthe poisoner. You should prepare yourself for that possibility.”

She sighed. “So what will you do next? Do you want me to ask the footmen questions too? Or would you rather do it?”

I returned to the sitting room and picked up one of the books I’d borrowed from the hotel library. “I’m not doing anything next. I’ve given up.”

She followed me, my damp coat slung over her arm. “If you’ve given up, why did you just ask all these questions about the inspector’s visit?”

I paused then said, “Habit.”

She regarded me with her one eyebrow raised. “I know you have suspects.”

I sat and opened the book. As curious as I was to know if either Mr. Hookly or Mr. Duffield had asked for something from the kitchen during the night, I wasn’t prepared to step on the inspector’s toes. With Mr. Armitage no longer a suspect, I was quite sure Detective Inspector Hobart would discover the poisoner. Everyone would be better off if I stayed out of his way.

“Fine,” she said, snippy again. “If that’s how you want to be, I won’t bother you until later.”

“Later?”

“I’ll return to do your hair for dinner.”

“I’m having dinner in my room tonight. I don’t feel like seeing anyone.”

She sighed again and left, taking my coat with her.

“Harmony!” came the shrill voice of Mrs. Kettering. “What are you doing in Miss Fox’s room at this hour?”

“I was cleaning it, ma’am.”

“Without your linen cart, cleaning products, sponges, or duster?”

“I, um…”

“Put that coat back this instance then come with me to my office.”

“I’m not stealing it! Miss Fox asked me to dry it for her by the fire.”

“Miss Fox is not here. I saw her leave.”

I hurried to the door, book in hand. “I am here.”

The housekeeper stiffened. “My apologies, Miss Fox. I thought Harmony was in your room uninvited. She claims to be cleaning it, when clearly she is not.”

“She was in my room because I asked her to come in,” I snapped. “Her other duties are finished and we were simply talking.”

“Talking?” Mrs. Kettering’s nostrils flared. “Be careful, Miss Fox. She has always been strange, this one, with a busy tongue which she doesn’t know when to hold still.”

A well of emotions within me surged, fierce and hot. They were not all the result of Mrs. Kettering’s nastiness, but she was going to bear the brunt of them. “You had better holdyourtongue, Mrs. Kettering, or my uncle will hear of this.”

She huffed a breath through her nose and her lips stretched into a thin gash with her defiant smile. “I have been here years, Miss Fox. You have been here five minutes. Which of us do you think he will listen to?”

“The reasonable one who also happens to be his niece. Good day, Mrs. Kettering. I have no need of your services at this moment.”

The housekeeper looked very much like a bull about to charge with her flaring nostrils and heavy breathing. “Get back to work,” she snapped at Harmony. Then she marched off, back ramrod straight, the keys at her hip jangling with every stride.

Harmony blew out a breath. “Thank you. But don’t think this means I’ve forgiven you for giving up on the investigation.” She winked at me.

I watched her go, glad to have done one good deed since my arrival at the hotel.

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