Strangled in Soho

by Samantha Summers

  “Fine,” I muttered as we entered through a service entrance and into the busy kitchen at the back of the hotel. Waiters dressed in finery similar to mine and Violet’s moved briskly around while cooks threw out orders, the sound of raw food hitting hot pans sending sizzles through the air while delicious aromas wafted toward us.

  “The manager will be meeting us here,” Violet said, motioning for me to follow her. We entered a large walk-in pantry on the other side of the kitchen, which was lined with truffle oil imported from Italy, Dijon mustard from France and a ton of other stuff that looked like it belonged on the shelves of one of those high-end delis where the BLTs cost fifteen bucks and were made with prosciutto instead of bacon.

  “Try not to eat anything you haven’t been invited to eat,” Violet told me as she saw me eyeing the stores on the shelves, and I stuck my tongue out at her.

  “Why are we meeting in here?” I asked.

  “Well, I suspect that our thieves have likely got rather extensive camera coverage in the parts of the hotel which they find relevant to their plan. As I do not know their plan, I think it would be better if we are safe, rather than sorry. If we are spotted, or even if something out of the usual is noticed today on their cameras, I suspect that they will abandon their plan. Without catching them in the act, it will make the murder of Amelia Waters much more difficult to solve, and we will have no leverage to threaten them with even if we do solve it.”

  Just then, the door opened and a woman dressed in a smart business suit, her brown hair tied back in a tight bun, walked in. She was obviously all business.

  “Miss Despuis, Miss Coburn,” she said, shaking both our hands. Evidently my presence here had already been described to her.

  “This is Mrs. Evangeline Edgeware, the manager here at the Ritz,” Violet explained to me. “The house safe, where the jewels are currently located, is inside her office.”

  “Yes,” Evangeline nodded. “I have copied the keys required to enter, and Violet, I have found for you and emailed to you the copy of the building’s HVAC systems that you asked for. One of those keyrings also has a key that works on all of the guest room doors. You are welcome to use room 131, which is just down the hall from my office, as your headquarters of sorts. It is the room that has been assigned to your associate Mrs. Michaels.”

  “Thank you,” Violet said, taking the two keys and handing the one with multiple keys on it to me. It wasn’t like one of the standard electronic room keys you get at most hotels these days, this one was the kind you still physically put into a lock. The key itself was gold, on an oval-shaped key ring, navy blue in color, with the Ritz logo printed on the front, and trimmed in gold as well. I slipped it into the pocket of my uniform.

  “I’ve got the details about the security from DeBeers,” Evangeline continued. “There are three men posted in the hotel–one is at the bar, one is in the lobby and will dart in and out, and the other is a registered guest, who are all plain clothes. They are DeBeers private security, all ex-Special Forces. They are aware that you are here, and they are aware of the potential threat, but they are also very well trained. I’m assured that they won’t do anything rash or stupid.”

  “Spoken like someone who has never dealt with this country’s supposed “special” forces,” Violet muttered. “Well, if we have any luck, they will not immediately give themselves away. Besides, I am certain that the robbers will be expecting such heavy security.”

  “I’ll be leaving at six, just as I always do,” Evangeline told us. “Please keep me updated on what happens. There is a night manager, but she has a different office.”

  “We will, thank you,” Violet said, and with a brisk nod, Evangeline Edgeware left the room.

  “Now,” Violet told me. “It is just after five in the afternoon. Let us get ready, shall we?”

  Chapter 21

  My heart raced as Violet talked me through the plan once more.

  “Now that we have the schematics, let us have a look,” Violet said, opening up her email on her phone. Sure enough, there was an email there from Evangeline, with a PDF attachment. It was a blueprint of the building, which showed the HVAC system as well.

  “You’re really going to climb through the ducts of the building to get to the manager’s office?” I asked, still kind of amazed that this was Violet’s plan.

  “Yes,” she nodded. “I suspect that the men will be coming through the main door, but in case they are not, I want to have eyes inside the room. Seeing as we cannot risk that the men have a camera inside the room and would see us enter, that means that I will go through the ducts and look that way, while you will keep an eye out on the main hallway from room 131.”

  “All right, let’s get going then,” I said. “Do you have the small camera for me?”

  “I do,” Violet replied. “Do you remember my instructions on how to get to the laundry room from here?”

  “I do.”

  “Good. Then turn your phone to vibrate only. Only text when absolutely necessary. Mrs. Michaels will be around as well if we need her.”

  “Good luck,” I told Violet.

  “We do not need luck, we have this planned to perfection,” came her reply, and I smiled to myself as I left the pantry and made my way back into the kitchen.

  I tried to look as normal as possible as I made my way through to the laundry room. Reaching into my pocket, I saw the tiny camera Violet had given me. She told me that she’d gotten the idea from the robbers themselves, with the way they used the camera to get the numbers generated from the safe.

  I grabbed a pile of clean towels and made my way back up to the ground floor, passing by the manager’s office on the way.

  With the camera–a simple dot, barely bigger than a pin head–in my finger, I made my way along the plush red, blue and white floral-printed fabric and past white flowers in Greek-style vases and olden-style golden lights. I stopped at one of the vases, pretending to notice a smudge on it, and wiped it away while secretly placing the camera, with its sticky backing, on one of the leaves of the flowers. I had it set up so the camera looked past the Enquiries Desk and toward the manager’s office: if anyone came this way, I’d be able to see them on live video.

  I continued down the hall, making a concerted effort to avoid looking at the manager’s office. Instead, I continued down to room 131 and knocked on the door. “Housekeeping,” I called out, resisting the urge to use my apparently terrible English accent.

  I waited a moment and then took my key from my pocket and put it into the lock. Luckily, I guessed the right key correctly on the first try and the room swung open. I placed the towels down on the plush bed and looked around. It felt like I’d stepped back in time in the best way. The white walls trimmed with gold looked like they could have been those of the walls of Versailles, while an antique-style cabinet held a modern touch–the flat-screen TV–next to the marble mantle over which sat a large mirror. If the reason we were here wasn’t so serious, I could have very easily pretended I was in Downton Abbey for a little while. Mrs. Michaels wasn’t here, which didn’t surprise me at all. She was without a doubt in the Palm Court, taking part in the five-thirty sitting of afternoon tea.

  Mrs. Michaels’ job was to be on the lookout for anything suspicious. Violet was completely certain that the men wouldn’t show their faces inside the hotel, and that they would be either wearing heavy makeup as the two of us were doing, or masked completely. But with her extensive knowledge of crime and how it worked, Mrs. Michaels was the perfect gatekeeper for us, the first person to notice if there was someone in the vicinity acting suspiciously.

  She had left my iPad on the bed, where I had asked her to, and I immediately connected to the WiFi and opened up the link Violet had emailed me, which opened up a video feed that showed the door of the Manager’s office. The fisheye view of the camera also gave me a good look down the entrance hall that led in from Davies Street. This way, two of the three entrances were covered, and if by chance the thieves d
id make it into the room without either myself or Mrs. Michaels noticing, Violet was in the air ducts and could tell us all the same that they were breaking in.

  Just then, my phone buzzed on the bed next to me. It was a text from Violet.

  Am in place. Looking through the duct at the manager’s office now.

  My heart skipped a beat as I read Violet’s text. That meant that with me in this room, looking at the video feed, and Mrs. Michaels having her afternoon tea, the three of us were in place, and we had only to wait until the thieves decided to strike.

  Whenever you watch a movie, it never shows the hours that pass during a stakeout. They always show the cops sitting in their car, and then maybe one of them goes to get a coffee or something, and bam! Bad guys. They don’t show the heart-pounding adrenaline at the beginning of the stakeout, but more importantly, they also don’t show the multiple hours in the middle when the adrenaline wears off and boredom kicks in.

  I mean, it wasn’t like I was ready to go home or anything. After all, I knew that at any given moment the three thieves, three of the most wanted men in England, one of whom had successfully killed three people and almost killed Violet and me, could come into this hotel and try to steal millions of pounds worth of diamonds and jewellery. But still, there was only so much staring at a screen and watching nothing happen that I could do without feeling a little bit bored.

  I eventually turned on the TV and watched an old episode of Top Gear while still keeping an eye on the iPad. Though to be honest, I had no real idea what was going on in the TV show. As much as I was bored watching the iPad, the stakes were still so high I couldn’t really concentrate on anything else. At about eight, Mrs. Michaels came into the room. She was dressed like the Queen, complete with a fancy hat and a cute square handbag on her arm.

  “Afternoon Tea has long since finished, I’m afraid,” she told me. “I saw no sign of anything out of the ordinary. I received Violet’s text that she’s in the air duct. That girl, always willing to go the extra mile to find a criminal. Well, if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll retire to one of the main areas. I’ll continue to keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and let you know if anything were to turn up. Please do let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Michaels. I will, for sure. Just keep an eye out, ok?”

  “Of course,” she replied. “See you later,” she said with a wink as she left the room. For a woman of her age, Mrs. Michaels was incredibly spry. I’d be happy if I still managed to be that active in my fifties, let alone my eighties.

  I smiled to myself and turned back to the iPad to make sure I hadn’t missed anything important during the two-minute conversation with Mrs. Michaels. Luckily for me, everything was going on just as usual. I was fairly certain the man in front of the advice counter had been playing Solitaire for most of the last hour.

  By the time nine-thirty came around, I knew we were in prime time for when Violet thought the theft was most likely to happen, but I was also bored. I’d now been sitting in this room and watching the iPad for almost four hours. I was so bored I’d just finished trying–and failing–to do a push-up!

  Thinking that maybe I should go to the gym, in case I ever needed to lift something heavier than a shopping bag, my phone buzzed next to me. I grabbed it in excitement. Had Mrs. Michaels spotted something? No, it was from Violet.

  I believe the men are coming in through the air duct I am currently in. Come and get me!

  I went from pure boredom to outright panic in under a second. Leaping from the bed, I double checked that the keys were in my pocket as I sprinted out of the room and down a floor to the manager’s office. If the men were in the duct, that meant they probably weren’t looking at any cameras anyway, and besides, making sure Violet wasn’t caught was more important than anything else.

  I fumbled with the keys for a minute before managing to enter the manager’s office and quickly turning on the flashlight on my phone. I didn’t want to turn the lights on completely lest the light make it to the men and they realize something was wrong.

  “Here,” I heard Violet hiss as soon as I entered. I looked to where the sound was coming from, to my left, and saw a standard air duct leading into the room. The hole was about a foot and a half high, and it was covered with a side table to hide the duct. I grabbed the side table and moved it, then looked at the screws. Flat heads. That was good.

  “One second,” I whispered to Violet, moving to the manager’s desk. I scanned the dark mahogany for a second before finding what I was after: an ivory letter opener with a golden hilt. Ok, it was a lot fancier than what I was looking for, but it would work.

  “I can hear them coming,” Violet whispered as I began to work. I used the letter opener, which was a lot sharper than I expected, as a screwdriver, doing my best to undo the screws as quickly as I could. It felt like every turn took an eternity, and my heart beat faster with every turn, but eventually I got all four screws out and I moved the grate off the wall as quietly as I could before offering Violet a hand. I pulled her out and she fell to the floor, helping me put the grate back.

  “Leave the screws a little bit loose,” Violet whispered to me, and I nodded my understanding. A moment later she grabbed me, and I just had time to put the letter opener back on the desk as Violet ran me toward the closed curtain and shoved us both behind it. I turned off the flashlight on my phone as I heard the first voice of one of the men.

  “Christ, this is a bit of a tight fit,” I heard one voice say. I frowned; something about it seemed familiar.

  “Almost there,” I heard another voice reply, this one with a bit of an accent. I looked down at our feet; luckily the curtain was one of those fancy floor-to-ceiling types, and we were completely covered.

  Suddenly, the sound of the grate hitting the floor resonated through the room and I took a deep breath. This was it. We were going to catch some robbers.

  Chapter 22

  I didn’t even dare peek through the curtains. The men turned on the lights and I looked over at Violet, whose eyes were closed as she listened closely to what was happening in the room.

  “There, behind the painting,” the first man said, and there was a small thud a moment later as presumably the men removed the painting that had been covering the safe.

  “Do you have the code?” the man with the accent asked. I heard the sound of a few beeps–maybe six or seven–and then a latch opening. Violet grabbed me by the wrist; I knew our time to strike was near. I put my hand into my pocket and grabbed the Taser Violet had given me earlier, along with a lesson in its use.

  “Is it there?” a third voice asked.

  “It’s all here. Let’s grab it, and then get out of here. The three security men are still in the lobby, so no panicking. We just calmly walk out of here, and walk to the car. We practiced this. This is why we’re all wearing the makeup; we won’t get caught.”

  “Right,” one of the men replied. I could hear the tinkle of jewels being shoved into a bag. Violet nodded at me. This was our cue.

  Violet and I burst out of the curtain. I liked to imagine that we looked like Batman and Robin, bursting onto the scene dramatically and striking a pose, but in reality I got a little bit stuck in the curtain and began flailing about with my hands until finally I sprung out of the curtain myself and faced the three men.

  We each had our Tasers levelled at the men, and my mouth dropped in shock when I saw them. The man in the middle I didn’t recognize. He was on the shorter side, with dark hair and a thin mustache. Oxford professor Alan Knightly and Oliver Hollingsworth, Amelia Waters’ ex-boyfriend and one of the most powerful men in England. No wonder I recognized the voice. The three men wore wigs and makeup, same as Violet and I, but they were still recognizable underneath–though security camera footage would definitely struggle to make out the details that allowed us to recognize them.

  “Stop,” Violet ordered. “You have been caught, and you are going to jail.”


  “I told you we should have made more of an effort to kill her,” Knightly said to the man in the middle.

  “I couldn’t make it look like an accident, there was no more time. It would have been too suspicious, too many questions asked.”

  “Well this isn’t better,” Hollingsworth said from the other side of the man. “How the hell did you know we were going to be here, anyway?” he asked, moving toward the desk.

  “Do not move another inch,” Violet ordered, levelling her Taser toward him. Her hand was rock steady, whereas I felt like I was going to faint at any minute. I wasn’t exactly used to threatening murderers. “I have known the three of you, Knightly, Hollingsworth and the man known as “Il Fissatore” were the thieves for days. Now, the police are waiting outside to take you in.”

  “She’s bluffing,” Hollingsworth laughed, but the other two men began to look a bit nervous. Knightly was holding a Louis Vuitton messenger bag from which I saw the sparkle of diamonds; he clutched it so hard his knuckles were white from the effort. Evidently Hollingsworth was the one of the three who wasn’t the least bit worried by our arrival. Not outwardly, anyway. “I recommend you put those weapons down and leave now,” Hollingsworth continued. “Before things get ugly for you.”

  Violet smiled. “It is adorable, that you believe you will get out of here with the profits of your thefts, and that you will get away with them.”

  “Oh, but I will,” Hollingsworth said, suddenly flinging the letter opener that I’d left on the desk toward Violet. She ducked down to avoid it, but not fast enough. Rather than getting her in the heart, the letter opener went straight through Violet’s shoulder, causing her to yelp out in pain as she dropped the Taser.

  For a split second, it was like everything was completely still. Then, chaos. I immediately unclipped the safety on the Taser and shot it at Knightly, who let out a cry and went down like a shot and stayed down, his body twitching. I didn’t even realize I was doing it; it was almost a reflex.