‘Well, I—’ Ed began.
‘No, I’m afraid not,’ Flora cut him off sharply, studying Francis for signs of guilt or anxiety but saw none. ‘It’s quite a large town.’
‘Oh, yes, of course, how silly of me.’ Her girlish giggle was interrupted by a discreet rap at the door, which opened to reveal the woman in the black dress Flora had seen on the ground floor.
‘I’m very sorry to bother you, Miss Francis,’ she said in a flat, bored voice with no discernible accent. ‘There’s a problem in the kitchens.’
‘Can’t Mr Frederick handle it?’ Still cuddling the cat, Miss Hunter-Griggs stood and drifted towards the door.
‘He’s not available. I told the delivery man he must have got the order wrong, but he insists it’s correct.’
‘As I said, I’m always being interrupted.’ Miss Hunter-Griggs sighed, placed the cat on the floor, which immediately scampered back under the sofa. ‘I’ll have to see to this, I’m afraid, but I won’t be long.’
‘Don’t let us keep you from your work.’ Flora gestured to Ed it was time to go. ‘We’ll leave you in peace.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of your going so soon.’ She strode forward and guided Flora firmly back into her seat. ‘We were having such a nice talk. I wouldn’t want it to end so abruptly.’ She bestowed a bright smile on each of them in turn, the door catch giving a loud click as she closed it behind her. Was it Flora’s imagination, or was there a sinister edge to Miss Hunter-Griggs’ insistence they stay?
*
Flora waited until their footsteps had receded along the hall, then ran forward and gave the door handle a firm turn.
‘What are you doing?’ Ed broke off from his contemplation of a semi-nude painting on the wall.
‘I wanted to see if it was locked.’
‘And is it?’
The catch gave and she released a relieved breath. ‘No.’
‘Then what’s wrong? You’ve been jumpy ever since we came up here. Why don’t you relax and sit down, she’ll be back in a moment.’
‘That’s what worries me. Ed, listen. Everyone referred to the Colonel’s children as “the twins”, so I assumed Frederick and Francis were both men. It never occurred to me Francis could be a woman.’
‘I don’t see what the problem is.’ Ed shrugged. ‘I find her charming and quite beautiful.’
‘Which hasn’t gone unnoticed.’ She sliced him a disdainful sideways look. ‘I’ve been searching for a woman in a red coat and she’s been in front of me all the time.’
‘Coat? Yes, of course, she was wearing one with those black embroidered things you spoke about. A bit of a coincidence she should own one like it, don’t you think?’
‘Don’t be dense, Ed. It’s hardly a coincidence.’
‘Are you sure? I’m afraid I didn’t put much store by it since Bunny and the Inspector didn’t either.’
‘You don’t have to remind me.’ She worried a thumbnail between her teeth. ‘They both made me feel stupid even mentioning it. Dr Grace told us the woman who brought Sylvia Thompson to her surgery was wearing a coat like that. One exactly like it was delivered to this hotel last year. Do you still think it’s all pure chance? Are you sure you don’t recognize her from the train, or on the concourse when you were leaving?’
‘I think I would have remembered Miss Francis.’ Ed shoved his hands in his pockets, his brow furrowed. ‘I don’t believe she’s a killer, and anyway, she said she’s never been to Cheltenham?’
‘Oh, well if she said so.’ Flora began to lose patience. ‘Because a beautiful woman couldn’t possibly tell lies or kill anyone? Ed, you’re such a man.’
‘I can’t help that.’ Ed fidgeted, his neck an uncomfortable red. ‘Are you sure you’ve got this right, Flora? She’s convinced that chap downstairs is Leonard, so if she and Frederick didn’t kill Leo, who did?’
‘I’m not certain of anything at this point.’ She had to admit Miss Francis had convinced her too. Maybe Frederick was the one who was in cahoots with Leonard or whatever his name was? They might have kept Francis in ignorance as an integral part of their plan.
‘Well?’ Ed demanded. ‘What do we do now?’
‘I’m not sure, but now we’re here, you can help me search. You try in here and I’ll take a look in the bedroom.’ She opened the inner door to an even more opulent room decorated in deep pink and pale green. A gilt-framed cheval mirror set at an angle across one corner reflected the light from a window with the same view as the sitting room.
‘Search for what?’ Ed jumped back as the cat ran between his feet and scooted under the silk-covered bed.
‘I need to find something which links Miss Francis to Sylvia, or even Leo. Lady Egerton’s diamond bracelet might be a good start. I don’t know what it looks like, but I doubt there’s more than one.’ She strode toward a bureau and started pulling out drawers which contained little but handkerchiefs and small boxes of cosmetics.’
‘What does a bracelet have to do with anything?’ Ed called through the door from where he crouched in front of a red and gold lacquered Chinese cabinet and pulled out a row of shallow drawers.
‘It’s complicated. But I have an idea that the Leonard downstairs was one of Lady Egerton’s card-playing young men who stole one from her’
‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’ Ed poked his head round the cupboard door, a hank of hair flopping over his forehead.
‘Never mind, just keep looking.’
Apart from the detritus of cosmetics in delicate pots, a powder puff and various trinkets on Francis’ dressing table, sat a photograph album Flora would have loved to browse through, but resisted. In a shallow drawer below it lay a pile of postcards from seaside towns, a few handkerchiefs and pencils.
‘It’s the only connection I have managed to make between Leo, Marlborough and the coat.’
‘Sounds a bit thin to me.’ Ed sat back on his knees. ‘Should we be doing this?’
‘Yes, we should. Keep looking, we don’t have much time.’ She bundled everything back where it was before attacking another drawer, her nerves jumping at every noise.
‘There’s no jewellery box here.’ Ed clambered to his feet and dusted off his trousers. ‘Not even one of those velvet lined cases jewellers use.’
‘No, you’re right. It doesn’t seem to be here.’ Disappointed, Flora replaced the double drawers she had pulled out of a small desk containing notepaper and pens but no letters or anything remotely personal. ‘Francis might have sold it. She did say they had run out of money for the hotel renovations.’
‘Huh! Then it’s probably languishing in a pawnshop somewhere.’ Ed’s voice softened as he wandered to a bureau in a corner of the sitting room.
‘You’re not helping, Ed.’ Flora muttered to herself, making an unsuccessful attempt to coax the cat from beneath the bed.
‘Hey, take a look at this. It’s just like the one you bought in Cheltenham the other day.’
‘What is?’ Flora gave up on the cat and scrambled to her feet. Ed stood at the bedroom door, a rectangular wooden box in both hands, the lid angled to reveal a design of white painted peonies.
She gasped. ‘Where did you find it?’
‘On the bureau over there by the door.’ His face took on an animation that had been lacking up until now. ‘Are you thinking what I am?’
‘Possibly. Let me see inside.’ Her heart thumped as she eased open the lid, revealing a neat row of instruments nestled into grooves in the velvet lining.
‘There’s an empty space where the stiletto should be.’ Ed pointed, his eyes wide. ‘Oh, lord. Miss Francis did kill Leo?’
‘That settles it. We’re leaving.’ Flora slammed the lid and shoved the box towards him. ‘Put it back where you found it. We need to find Inspector Maddox.’
The sooner they got out of there, the better.
Chapter 31
Flora checked the drawers had all been replaced as she had found them, replaced the stool under
the dressing table and re-entered the sitting room where she stared round at the chaos. Drawers had been ransacked and left open, magazines and books pulled haphazardly from the shelves, and piles of embroidered cushions tossed onto the floor.
‘Ed! What on earth—?’
‘Find a bracelet you said, and those things are small. You can’t expect me to do that tidily. I’ve put the box back where I found it.’ He wore a bemused, half-contrite expression identical to his thirteen-year-old self when stating the obvious.
‘We can’t leave the room like this!’ Her horrified gaze skimmed the walls. ‘You’ve even moved all the pictures.’
‘I thought there might be a safe behind one of them.’ He shrugged, sheepish.
‘Which you wouldn’t have been able to open anyway. Come on, help me clear up before someone comes.’
‘No time, Flora. If Miss Francis is involved, we must let the police know.’ Ed made for the door as he talked. ‘I saw a sign in the lobby showing the way to a public telephone. I can move faster than you, so I’ll take the stairs while you tidy up in here. Use the ascending room when you’re finished and wait for me in the lobby. Lose yourself in the crowd, I’ll come and find you.’
Flora was about to protest, but she could already hear his footfalls receding along the corridor. She had to admit he was right about one thing, he could cover more ground than she could manage in her cumbersome skirts.
Sighing, she gathered papers, books and straightening pictures as fast as she could. amazed at the way he had taken charge of the situation. And of her. Anyone would think coming to the hotel was his idea. Having spent a fruitless few minutes trying to coax the cat back into the sitting room, she gave up and giving the suite a quick, appraising glance to ensure everything was as they had found it, pulled the door closed behind her and set off along the hallway Ed had disappeared down minutes before. Where the stairs and lift met at the end, she pressed the button which summoned the lift. A few stressful moments passed without any mechanical sounds, until finally, the elevator appeared in a slow-moving beam of light and creaked to a halt. The gates slid open with a clang of metal to reveal a single occupant.
Flora’s breath caught at the sight of the man calling himself Leonard Hunter-Griggs.
‘Well?’ He leaned a shoulder against the edge of the gate, his voice slow and mocking. ‘Don’t you wish to go down, Mrs Harrington?’
‘Wh…where’s the attendant?’ Flora’s thoughts raced, alarmed to be addressed by her name.
He stepped away for a moment. ‘But I’m quite capable of operating the machinery. I’ve done it a dozen times.’ His manner of speech sounded forced, as if he had spent hours in front of a mirror perfecting it.
Flora hesitated. ‘Miss Hunter-Griggs—’
‘Won’t be returning, I’m afraid. She asked me to inform you she’s been called away.’ Before Flora realized what was happening, he had grasped her wrist, gave it a painful twist as he hauled her inside the lift and closed the gates which made an ominous clang. The momentum of his push flung her against the velvet-covered bench at the rear, which hit the back of Flora’s knees. She bounced off and tumbled to the floor, dropping her bag.
‘You ought to know the police are on their way.’ Panic filled her chest, though she forced herself to sound calm. ‘They might already be here.’
How long had Ed been gone? Long enough to telephone Maddox?
‘And yet you’re here, and they are not.’ His upper lip curled as he swung the handle that denoted the floors until the red arrow pointed to the embossed letter ‘B’.
Grinding gears brought her gaze to the ceiling as the motor above whirred into action and the lift began to move. Bile rose in her throat as they glided downwards, her chances of escape diminishing with each second.
‘In case you’re wondering,’ his low, menacing tone made her pulse race. ‘I recognized your companion when you arrived. Frederick told me you’ve been here twice. Been asking questions about me, haven’t you?’
Flora swallowed, not daring to deny it, even though she had only suspected him recently. Nor did she ask what, if anything he had done to Ed. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of pleading with him.
‘I’ve done nothing to him,’ he added as if reading her thoughts. ‘It’s her he needs to watch out for. She’s not in a good mood.’ He turned his back on her, his fingers laced through the diamond pattern of the closed gates.
Slowly, she reached for her bag and slid it out of sight beneath her. What did he mean? And who wasn’t in a good mood? Was he talking about Francis? Pushing herself gingerly onto her knees, she started to rise.
‘Stay where you are!’ he snapped without looking at her. ‘She was right.’ The arrogance seemed to have flowed out of him, leaving uncertainty.
‘Right about what?’ Flora sank slowly back onto the seat, the solid outline of the gun in her bag pressed against her thigh.
‘When the police turned up and questioned the staff, she said we should get out. I should have listened to her. We could have been halfway to Waterford by now.’ He seemed to be talking to himself, his voice tight.
‘You were there weren’t you? On the train when Leo Thompson was killed?’ She couldn’t be sure he was responsible for Leo’s death, but the man seemed to be unravelling. Perhaps he thought she knew more than she did.
‘That wasn’t me! And you can’t tell them it was.’ He leapt for the handle and slammed it into the ‘Stop’ position.
The lift screeched and jerked to a halt between floors, sending Flora off the edge of the seat. She righted herself quickly, her bag concealed beneath the folds of her skirt. ‘What did happen to Leo?’
He swivelled to face her. ‘I was supposed to knock him on the head and push him out of the train when it reached Pangbourne. But I didn’t do it.’
‘Why there?’ She didn’t really care but keeping him talking struck her as the right thing to do while she inched her fingers into the bag’s silk lining.
‘There’s a steep slope that runs from the rails down to the river. She said everyone would think it was an accident.’ He snorted again, annoyed with himself. ‘He saw me on the train, didn’t he? That young chap with you. Isn’t that why you’re here?’
He didn’t appear to expect a response so she didn’t give one, her mind racing as she tried to remember the name her mother-in-law mentioned in her letter from Eastbourne. Paget was it? Payne? No Paige. Eric Paige.
‘She told me to do it anyway.’ He seemed to have forgotten she was there, his focus on the weak light in the lift ceiling, and made a derisive noise, something between a snort and a chuckle. ‘I said no. That it was too risky, but she wouldn’t listen.’
‘What then? You had to improvise?’ Flora’s fingers closed around the rough surface of the metal grip. ‘You waited until Leo was alone in the compartment. Then you stabbed him with the only thing she had to hand. The needlework stiletto. Isn’t that right, Mr Paige?’
‘How did you know my—?’ he broke off, his mouth working but no sound came. ‘Not that it matters,’ he snarled and swung the handle to the last notch on the wheel.
‘Where are you taking me?’ she demanded, her panic mounting. The gun now sat, solid and heavy in her hand, but would not be easy to pull free of the bag.
‘Somewhere no one will find you!’ Paige growled. ‘Not until we’ve gone anyway.’
The lift started moving again and she released the catch on the top of the gun. The bullet entered the chamber with a tiny metallic click. Releasing a slow breath, she slid her finger behind the trigger. A large painted “L” on the brick wall slid into view, indicating they had almost reached the lobby. With a strangely steady hand, Flora freed the weapon from her bag and pointed it at his back.
‘Stop the lift, Mr Paige! Now!’
He swung round to face her, his lips curved into an arrogant tilt ready to deny her. His gaze settled on the gun and he froze, his eyes widening.
You didn’t expect that did you!<
br />
‘I said stop the lift. Now!’ Flora’s voice shook as the lobby ceiling came into view through the gates. Her hand tightened on the gun, hoping she wouldn’t have to pull the trigger but she couldn’t let him take her into the bowels of the building.
The floor dipped a few inches past the lobby, where several eager faces appeared beyond the diamond lattice arrangement of the gates. The lift screeched to an abrupt halt with a jolt that threw Flora off balance. Her grip on the gun loosened as she staggered, but regained her balance as the lift bounced and settled.
Just as Flora took aim again, he threw open the gates and leapt into the crowd waiting to go in, yelling, ‘Everyone get down! She’s got a gun!’ Paige shoved a stocky man with both hands hard enough to send him staggering backwards into the couple behind him. They stumbled into each other, the three of them blocking the doors and preventing any chance of Flora following. The woman regained her feet, her eyes locked onto the gun in Flora’s hand and she screamed. A high-pitched cry of terror loud enough to draw all eyes towards her as far as the front desk.
Flora watched helplessly as Paige took off at a run through the crowd and across the lobby, shoving bystanders aside among gasps of indignation and screeches of alarm.
Frustration made her want to scream as she strained on tiptoe, moving her head from side to side in an effort to keep Paige in sight.
A young porter eased his way through the cluster of people, arms outstretched and palms held down. ‘Miss, I think you should put that down.’
‘What? I…’ Flora started at him in confusion, then her gaze went to the gun in her hand and she groaned.
He eased closer, a hand extended. ‘Give me the weapon, miss.’
The couple who had unwittingly helped Paige escape regained their feet, their eyes wide with alarm.
Flora sighed and addressed the eager young porter. ‘I know you think you’re being very brave, but it’s not me you should be worried about.’ By this time Paige was little more than a glimpse of a blue jacket weaving through the lobby and out of sight. ‘Oh, for goodness sake, he’s gone now.’ Flora lowered the Bulldog, clicked the safety catch on and returned it to her handbag. ‘And no, I’m not giving it to you,’ she snapped at the hovering porter, who couldn’t have been much older than Ed. ‘It’s safer where it is.’
The Bloomsbury Affair Page 28