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Candlelit Madness: A 1920s Historical Mystery Anthology including Violet Carlyle

Page 5

by Beth Byers


  Eddie murmured generic appreciation as the older woman showed off everything, but kept her eyes open so she could observe the layout and the people. After a last lap through the hotel’s spotless kitchen, they took the tiny elevator back up to the second floor.

  Mrs. Maddenstone kept talking the whole time. “Believe me, if you work here long enough you’ll see a lot of stuff. Businessmen with other people’s wives. A desperate man hiding out from someone one wants him dead. Shady women coming and going.” She looked over at Edwina and fumbled through the ring of keys at her waist. “I come into work at night, from time to time, just to spot check things. You’d be shocked at how often I see Mr. Garvey snooping all around the hotel at all hours.”

  “Oh, really?” Edwina tried to look disinterested as she followed Mrs. Maddenstone in the vacant room, and then watched her explain the exact method that should be used to clean the marble bathroom. As her new boss was pontificating on the correct way to swab out a toilet, Eddie thought back to what she’d learned so far.

  A missing jewel.

  A hotel safe, still locked tight.

  A mobster who would be very, very unhappy when he found his flawless yellow diamond had disappeared.

  The Torch, gone up like smoke.

  Chapter 3

  “Hey, there, beautiful!”

  Eddie stopped dead in the hallway, feather duster and damp rag still in her hands. She’d ignored the soft wolf whistle she’d heard when she’d walked by the workman standing on the ladder, but apparently her lack of reaction didn’t deter the young man.

  “Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you at the Exeter before.”

  She looked up. The muscular man was grinning like a loon, auburn hair slicked back, wearing spotless coveralls with a handyman’s tool belt strapped around his waist.

  “I’m sure I’d remember you.” He started down the ladder, then hopped off the last two steps. Wiping a hand with a clean rag, he stuck it out and smiled at her. “I’m Benny Sampson. Whatever you need here, you just let me know. What Benny wants, Benny gets.”

  The hope in his eyes was obvious.

  Try to remember you’re supposed to be a maid, Edwina thought. You’re undercover. You’re not allowed to knee him anywhere painful.

  She forced a friendly smile in place and shook his hand. “I’m Edwina, and yes, I just started today.”

  “So, you already had the tour from Ole Maddenstone, then, I take it?” Without waiting for an answer, he started folding up his wooden ladder. “Yeah, she’s a peach, that one. Likes to keep her girls all under her thumb and not let them come out and play.”

  His voice trailed off in mock pain, and Edwina had to stifle a laugh. “Oh, you poor thing,” she said, with a complete lack of sympathy. “It must be so rough for you.”

  “Well, yeah, it is,” Benny said, cracking a grin and tucking his ladder under one arm. “It’s tough being such an example of rugged bachelorhood, and not being able to take out any of the young lovelies who come through here.”

  Eyes on the doorway to the guest room she was supposed to clean, Edwina walked a bit with him. “So, how long have you been here, Benny?”

  “Three years.” He gave a melodramatic sigh and did his best to appear pathetic. “Three long, lonely, single, years.”

  She ignored his bid for sympathy and attention. “And what do you do?”

  He gave a loud snort of laughter. “Anything. I do it all. If the gutter comes off, I put it back on. If someone needs something welded or painted or spackled, that’s me.” He tapped his chest with his thumb. “I staple carpet, repair stairs with new wood, and figure out why someone’s sink is leaking.” He stretched his mouth into a friendly leer. “And whatever else needs to be done, night or day. The night manager has me do a lot of it after hours, so the guests won’t be disturbed.”

  “You sound like a handy guy to have around.” She kept her voice carefully neutral, as though she didn’t catch his innuendo.

  “Oh, honey, you have no idea. Mr. Tenamen says he can’t get along without me.”

  “I see,” Edwina said, knocking on the door to the room she was supposed to be cleaning.

  “Housekeeping!” she called loudly, then knocked again. When there was no answer, she pulled out the skeleton key Mrs. Maddenstone had given her and poked it in the keyhole. She turned back to Benny, who was looking hopeful.

  “Well, got to get to work!” she said, and quickly closed the door behind her. The last glimpse she had of Benny was his face falling in defeat.

  The last thing she needed in her life was a quick-talking handyman with roaming hands and too much pomade in his hair.

  It wasn’t until the end of her shift that she was able to get a glimpse of the hotel safe behind the reception desk. Using the pretense of emptying the standing ashtrays in front, she hummed tunelessly as she did her best to look busy. As soon as the receptionist, a chatty blonde named Kathy, left to help a guest who wanted to ask about holding a wedding reception in the restaurant, Edwina ducked behind the desk. There, sitting on the floor, was a square safe, almost three feet across.

  Keeping part of her attention on whether someone would walk by and see her, Edwina nudged the massive tumbler on the door. It moved with a reassuring clicking as the inner workings spun inside. She glanced over her shoulder, then gave a good, hard yank on the metal handle, trying to push it downward and open the door.

  Nothing. It didn’t budge.

  She was just putting a hand on the top of the safe to get some better leverage and try again when she heard a frosty voice, full of anger, behind her.

  “What do you think you’re doing near that safe, young lady?”

  Edwina turned around, and was staring right into the face of an impossibly thin man with a pencil moustache and a furious expression. His blue pin-striped suit was cut in the latest fashion, the white handkerchief in the pocket as perfectly folded as she’d ever seen. Edwina had actually spotted him a bit before, skulking around the restaurant and sucking up to some of the better-heeled patrons who were leaving.

  Scrambling a bit mentally, she blurted out the first thing that popped into her mind.

  “Um, Mr. Garvey said he’d had a report that someone saw a mouse run through here, so I’m just checking on that for him.” She gave a timid smile. “Have you seen any mice behind the front desk?”

  The thin man’s eyeballs bulged in shock. “Mice!” he hissed, then leaned over and grabbed Edwina’s elbow, yanking her upright. Leaning closer, his eyes darted around to see if anyone was nearby and he dropped his voice to a near whisper. “We never use that sort of language around here, and I can certainly assure you that there have never been, and there never will be, any rodents here in the Exeter. Ever!”

  Edwina tried to look contrite, and refrain from jerking her arm away from the man. “I’m sorry, Mr… ?”

  “Hastings. I’m the night manager.” He released his grip and moved back a pace, looking her over with open disapproval. “So, I see this is the caliber of maid Garvey’s hiring these days. Or did Maddenstone adopt you like one of her stray cats, and give you a job out of pity?”

  Edwina Grace Winterwood, one of the heirs to the Winterwood fortune, bit her tongue so hard she was concerned it was going to bleed. After a moment, she ducked her head in pretend apology.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Hastings. I was just doing what Mr. Garvey told me to do,” she lied. “I’ll go check in with Mrs. Maddenstone and see if she needs me anywhere else.”

  “See that you do,” Hastings replied, turning his back and straightening the leather-bound guest book on the desk. “After all the service I gave to the people of this country in the Great War, I’d expect Mr. Garvey to inform me directly and not send one of his… girls” –he said the word with a bitterness that made Edwina want to kick him in the shins—“to do a job he should be doing himself. Between him and Mr. Tenamen taking time off during the day, I’m up to my ears in things that need to be done to keep the Exeter
running.” He glanced at Edwina. “Are you still here? Run along, girl.”

  As Edwina hurried toward Mrs. Maddenstone’s office, she couldn’t wait to retrieve her street clothes and go home. Even as she picked up her big shoulder bag and walked out the door, knowing that her mechanic’s old model-T was parked just a block away, her mind was racing.

  Interesting how Mr. Hastings hadn’t taken any notice of her at all as she worked around the desk.

  Didn’t notice her, that is, until she had one hand on the hotel safe.

  Chapter 4

  The next day was fairly uneventful at first. Edwina went through her paces as a hotel maid, keeping her eyes open for any clues about the missing Torch, and getting used to Mrs. Maddenstone checking in on her every half hour or so. It was tedious, dull work and by the time Edwina had made over two dozen beds, she definitely had a new appreciation for just how hard maids had to work to earn their wages. She’d also discovered that some guests had all of the personal cleanliness of a pig in a sty.

  Cleaning up after other people is definitely not my style, she thought, fishing a pair of men’s underwear out from one of the beds. Grimacing, she tossed it on a nearby chair and made a mental note to be nicer to the servants back home.

  Maybe pick up my own things a bit more, too, she thought to herself. Bigger tips at Christmas.

  By midday she’d been checking her watch every few minutes to see if it was time for lunch, and the moment it was she walked down to the kitchen with a loud sigh of relief.

  The Exeter had thought of everything for their kitchen, including a small breakroom with a cooler for employees’ lunches. Edwina quickly found her lunch bag and sank down into one of the chairs, wishing she could kick off her lace-up shoes. The room was small and a bit chilly, with four rectangular wooden tables surrounded by ladderback chairs. Curtained windows lined one wall, with two radiators and a long counter set against the opposite side of the room. Two other maids were chatting quietly at a table by the coolers, and one smiled shyly at her as Edwina pulled out her chicken salad sandwich. After a couple of bites, Mrs. Maddenstone walked in, her bulky body pushing its way through the chairs that hadn’t been tucked back next to tables. Clutched in her hands was a metal lunchbox of unusually large proportions. She nodded curtly at the other maids, then plopped down across from Edwina with a loud whoosh of exhaustion.

  “Well, Miss Eaton. Fancy seeing you here.” She pulled out an orange and a glass jar with a screwed-on lid, seemingly full of split pea soup, from her lunchbox. Rooting around a bit more, she dug out a napkin and a metal spoon. “I was going to ask you if you’d mind staying and picking up some extra hours tonight. I’m a bit shorthanded.”

  More time to snoop around, Edwina thought, then smiled at Maddenstone. “Sure. I could use the dough.”

  Her boss seemed truly tired, her lined face drooping in fatigue. It made her look less like a bulldog and more like the middle-aged worker she was. “Are you all right, Mrs. Maddenstone?” Edwina asked, genuine concern in her voice.

  She got a noncommittal shrug in reply. “As good as can be expected, I suppose. I could definitely use a vacation, maybe somewhere with palm trees.” She crossed her arms and ran her hands up and down her arms. “Cold in here again. We never seem to get enough heat in this room, even when the radiators are cranked up as far as they can go.” She leaned forward a bit and dropped her voice, the metal spoon still in her hand. “Mr. Tenamen’s been in an awful rage this morning. He’s been in and out of my office four times so far. I swear, every time he loses money at the gaming tables he takes it out on the people who work for him. I tell you, he about wears me out!”

  “Oh, he gambles?” Edwina asked innocently, all while mentally filing the piece of information away.

  Mrs. Maddenstone gave a snort that would’ve made any bulldog proud, and pulled her sweater more tightly across her massive chest. “Does he gamble?” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. “I’ve never seen anyone throw money around like he does. You know what sort of salary a manager of a prestigious hotel like the Exeter makes? Well, it’s not chump change. The problem is, he spends it in the backroom card parlors and come out completely broke. That’s the whole reason his wife Gloria left him, I guess. You never know how much a man with a habit like that is going to owe, and to who. Around here, a lot of times, debts like that get owed to some very bad shady people.”

  Edwina took a bite of her sandwich and let her boss prattle on, her mind already on a certain hotel manager’s lack of money, and what sort of troubles could get solved by giving a loan shark a big, canary yellow diamond with inner fire.

  This is what I get for volunteering to work a long shift, Edwina thought crankily, as she plumped up the pillows on a huge bed on the fifth floor. The suite was larger than most rooms, with a sitting area furnished with two large sofas, and a balcony that looked out over the city. She was exhausted by her day, frustrated that she had just tidbits to go on, and more than ready to go home. The last smudge of purple daylight had already seeped from the Chicago sky, and she hurried through her routine. It was nice and quiet on the top floor, with only one guest checked into rooms on the far end of the hallway, and her only duty to clean up for a guest that had checked out of the suite earlier that afternoon.

  She was just running a cloth over the elegant mahogany desk by the window when she heard an unmistakable sound.

  She jumped in shock.

  Gunshot!

  Edwina pivoted toward the closed door, adrenaline racing through her body, almost not daring to breathe. The shot had come from nearby, on the same floor.

  There was a moment of silence, then the sound of heavy footsteps frantically pounding down the hallway.

  Edwina sprung into action, racing toward the door. She twisted the doorknob frantically and pulled the door open, cautiously ducking her head just far enough around the doorjamb to peer down the hall.

  It was empty, the door to the stairs silently easing shut, the shooter already dashing downstairs. She could hear fading footsteps.

  If only I had a gun! Edwina thought, her mind racing. She hadn’t expected this case to be dangerous. Missing diamonds were puzzles to be solved, not something that could get her killed.

  There was no way she was going to catch up to the gunman racing down the stairs, and she knew it. Swiveling her head around, she could see a dark figure sprawled on the floor at the end of the hallway, motionless.

  Her breath caught in her throat, and then she walked, then started to lope toward the body on the floor.

  It was a man, large, clad in a dark overcoat and a blue pin-striped suit. At first glance she thought it was Mr. Hastings, the night manager, but as soon as she peered closer she could see the man’s face in the light from a nearby sconce.

  Edwina knew that face. She’d seen it in the papers, and there was only one guest on this floor.

  Victor Spinosa.

  Back a day earlier than expected.

  Spinosa, who’d been shot in the back of his head, his lifeblood seeping into the elegant carpet of the Exeter Hotel.

  Owner of a stolen diamond.

  Dead gangster.

  Chapter 5

  “First things first. We’re going to keep this whole thing quiet for just a bit.” Tenamen was pacing back and forth in Mrs. Maddenstone’s office, with Edwina and Maddenstone watching him with concern.

  Edwina’s eyebrows went up in utter shock. “Mr. Tenamen, you can’t be serious! There’s a dead man lying in that hallway upstairs and a killer on the loose! Why in the world wouldn’t you call the police immediately?”

  “That’s not just any body upstairs,” he said. “That’s Victor Spinosa, and Spinosa’s a known gangster with a lot of out-of-town connections, and that sort of…” --he gulped— “murder has repercussions. Bad, bad repercussions.”

  “But we need to call the police!” Mrs. Maddenstone’s voice was strong. If the hefty woman had been at all rattled by the thought of a dead man lying on the now
-closed fifth floor. Edwina had a sudden suspicion that it might not be the first time the housekeeper had been confronted with having to deal with a dead body.

  “There’s more to it than just Spinosa. There’s also a missing man.” Tenamen mopped his sweaty brow with his snow-white handkerchief, his expression one of near-panic. “Hastings had just come on shift, and now he’s disappeared. I’ve checked with all the employees and no one’s seen him since just before Spinosa got shot!” He leaned over and set his hands on Maddenstone’s desk. “Do you know what it would mean if Hastings is the person who killed Spinosa? It means complete ruin for the Exeter Hotel! I can just see the headlines now. Extra, extra! Read all about it! Exeter Hotel Den of Iniquity!” If Edwina didn’t know better, she would swear she heard a catch of emotion in the hotel manager’s voice.

  Just as Maddenstone opened her mouth to add her opinion, Edwina had a thought and interrupted her.

  “You know, you could call a detective I know directly. He works the night shift, and won’t be coming in to work until about a half hour from now.”

  Maddenstone swiveled her head toward her newest maid, shock on her face. “You want Mr. Tenamen to do what? What if Hastings is the killer? Had that idea occurred to you?”

  Edwina pulled a pencil and small piece of paper off the desk and jotted down a name. She knew Detective Perlman very well, as he’d been active in local politics and had been to several parties of her father’s. “If he is the killer, then he had his reason for shooting Spinosa and he’s almost certainly long gone. If he’s not, then he may be in trouble. This way, if we call the detective we get a bit of time to see if we can find Mr. Hastings, and we don’t get in trouble for not calling the cops.” She didn’t mention the Torch, knowing that Tenamen hadn’t told her about its disappearance. Edwina glanced up at her boss, determination on every line of her face. “I’m not saying we don’t cooperate with the law. I’m just saying we get a bit of wiggle room to see what sort of damage control we can do, and what we can discover for ourselves.”

 

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