Decked with Folly (9 page)

Hope crept into Gertie’s eyes. “He’s not going to arrest me today?”

“No.” Cecily got up from her chair and walked around to pat Gertie’s broad shoulder. “We promised that you would not leave the hotel until he got back, however.”

Gertie’s chin shot up. “But what about me twins? They was looking forward to a walk on the seafront. It’s Daisy’s day off, and I promised to take them. I’m supposed to meet Dan down there in half an hour.”

Cecily wavered.

Gertie’s dark eyes pleaded with her. “They’ve been so good I hate to disappoint them. Pansy’s coming with me and all, and they love to see her.”

Cecily let out her breath on another sigh. “Oh, well, in that case, I shall hold Pansy responsible for seeing that you return.”

A weak smile flashed across Gertie’s face. “I’ve got to come back, don’t I. I’m not going to leave me twins behind. Besides, it’s Christmas. How can I miss Christmas at the Pennyfoot?”

Her voice broke, and Cecily thought she saw a tear glistening in her housemaid’s eye. A rare event indeed. “Try not to worry.” She gave the young woman another comforting pat. “I promise you we’ll all do our very best to get all this sorted out.”

Gertie sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “I bleeding hope so.” She glanced up at Cecily’s face. “Sorry, m’m. I shouldn’t be using them bad words in front of you.”

“It’s quite all right. Quite understandable under the circumstances.” Cecily returned to her chair. “Now, if I’m going to help you, you must tell me what happened last night between you and Ian.” She gave her chief housemaid a hard stare. “And Gertie, if you don’t want to be sent to prison for something you didn’t do, I suggest you tell me every single word that was spoken.”

CHAPTER 7

Gertie stared down at her hands for a long moment, then drew a shuddering breath. “I was in the kitchen. Must have been about six. Mrs. Chubb was in the laundry room. Michel had gone home and the maids were all in the dining room cleaning up. So I was all alone in there.”

She paused, and Cecily leaned forward. “Is that when you saw Ian?”

“Yeah. He knocked on the back door. I thought it was Dan knocking and I rushed to let him in. Gave me a really nasty jolt to see Ian flipping standing there. I thought he was still in London.”

“So did we all. What happened then?”

“Not a lot. I told him he couldn’t come in. He started arguing. Said he’d come to see the twins and nobody was going to stop him. I could tell he’d been drinking, I could smell it on him. I told him if he didn’t leave I’d call Clive.” Gertie flashed a look at Cecily. “He’s afraid of Clive.” She gulped. “I mean he was.”

Cecily nodded. It wasn’t hard to see why Ian was intimidated by her maintenance man. Ian was not a tall man and his body was quite frail, whereas Clive’s impressive height, broad shoulders, and barrel chest made him look like a giant in comparison. “Go on, Gertie. I’m assuming he didn’t leave right away?”

Gertie shrugged. “No, he didn’t. He started coming in through the door and I backed up to the table. Mrs. Chubb had left a roast on the table for supper. The carving knife was lying next to it so I picked it up. Just to scare him, I swear. I yelled at him to get out before I did something really, really bad to him, like slitting his bleeding throat.” She coughed behind her hand. “Sorry again, m’m.”

“And he left?”

Gertie chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, then shook her head. “He just stood there, arguing back at me. Then all of a sudden Clive appeared in the doorway. He dragged him out and I heard them shouting at each other, then it all went quiet.” Gertie looked up again. “I didn’t hear nothing after that. Clive looked in and asked if I was all right, and I said yes and then he was gone.”

“I see.” Cecily frowned at the ledger in front of her. “And you were quite alone with Ian until Clive arrived on the scene?”

“Yes, m’m.”

“That’s strange.”

Gertie looked puzzled. “What is?”

Cecily smiled at her. “P.C. Northcott said someone told him you had threatened Ian with a knife. He wouldn’t tell me who it was, but I can’t imagine Clive would say anything to him.”

“No, m’m. Clive would never say nothing that would get me in trouble. I’d swear on it.”

“Well, then, in that case, someone else must have heard you, unless—” She broke off as someone rapped on the door.

Gertie looked scared and hunched her shoulders as if bracing for a blow.

Cecily muttered an irritable, “What now?” Then louder, “Yes? Who is it?”

The door flew open and a young woman stepped into the room. She wore a fashionable skirt under a coat trimmed with fox fur, and silk ribbons adorned the wide brim of her hat.

Her face looked vaguely familiar and Cecily frowned. It was customary for one of the footmen to escort a visitor to her office and make an official announcement of her name. This sudden invasion was most unsettling.

Before she could speak, however, Gertie shot to her feet. “Oh, my gawd, it’s Gloria.”

Cecily stared at Gertie, then back at the visitor. “You two know each other? But how—?”

The woman glared at Gertie and walked farther into the room. Scowling at Cecily she said in a low, fierce voice, “I want to know where Robert is hiding.”

Cecily raised her eyebrows. “Robert? I don’t think I know—”

“She means Ian.” Gertie had a look on her face that suggested she was about to be sick. “Remember? That’s Ian’s real name. Robert Johnson. He changed it to Ian Rossiter when he came to work for you so she wouldn’t find him. This is Gloria Johnson. Ian’s real wife.”

“Oh, goodness.” Cecily rose from her chair. “Of course. I thought you seemed familiar but it’s been a good many years and I had forgotten—”

“Where is he, Mrs. Sinclair? Where’s my Robert?”

Cecily swallowed. “Actually, it’s Mrs. Baxter now. I . . . ah . . . perhaps you’d better sit down.” She glanced at Gertie, who still stared at Gloria as if she were looking at a hungry lion about to charge. “You, too, Gertie. Unless you’d prefer to leave?”

With a look of sheer relief, Gertie nodded, took another sidelong glance at Gloria, then fled out the door.

 

 

 

Out on the Esplanade, Gertie let the full force of the cold wind blow in her face. After the horrible morning she’d had, she needed something to clear out the tangle of thoughts in her head. Heedless of the wisps of hair escaping from the pins, she stood at the railing and watched the angry waves churning onto the wet sand in a tide of froth and spray.

Maybe she should have told madam everything. Maybe she should have told her how she’d seen Clive later the night Ian died, long after he should have gone home, and how he was soaking wet, as if he’d been out in the snow for a while.

She should have told her what really happened, and she might have done, if Gloria hadn’t barged in on her.

A tiny hand crept into hers and a voice struggled to be heard above the crashing ocean. “Mummy? What’s the matter? Are you all right?”

Looking down at her daughter, Gertie found the strength to smile. “Course I am. It’s Christmas, isn’t it. Everything’s always all right at Christmas.”

Lillian’s rosy-cheeked face glowed with the bite of the wind. “Is Father Christmas coming soon?”

“Soon.” Gertie gripped the small hand tighter. “As long as you and James behave yourself, that is.” She looked down the Esplanade to where Pansy stood throwing a ball for James to catch. A wave of panic almost made her cry out.

What would she do if the constable arrested her and put her in jail? What would happen to her children? Who would look after them? She couldn’t expect Daisy to take care of them until they were grown. Daisy was only a nanny, and she’d made it clear she wouldn’t be around once the twins were old enough to take care of themselves.

Madam and Mr. Baxter had to find out who killed Ian. They just had to, and quick. Because if they didn’t, it was very likely she could end up in prison or swinging from a rope for something she didn’t do. Gertie closed her eyes and prayed as she’d never prayed before.

“Mummy?”

A tug on her hand opened her eyes. Gertie blinked tears away and smiled at her daughter. “I’m all right, luv. Honest. I just got a little bit of sand in me eyes and it made them water a bit, that’s all.”

Lillian’s worried frown vanished, and she pointed down the Esplanade to where a tall figure of a man strode toward them. “Look! There’s Uncle Dan!”

James had already seen him coming and was tearing down the Esplanade toward him, with Pansy running hard to keep up with the little boy.

Gertie pulled in a deep breath. “Come on.” She took hold of Lillian’s hand. “Let’s go and meet him.”

Hurrying along beside her eager daughter, Gertie rehearsed how she would tell Dan everything that had happened. He’d be shocked, just like she was. She could only hope it didn’t ruin his Christmas.

She wasn’t going to let it ruin hers. Ian Rossiter had done enough damage to her and the twins, and no matter what happened afterward, she wasn’t about to let him spoil their Christmas. Somehow she’d get through it, and somehow madam would find out who did it and she’d be in the clear.

As for Gloria, well she felt sorry for her. It wasn’t going to be easy for her to hear Ian had been killed, even if he had been a rotten husband.

In fact, it amazed Gertie that they were still together. After Gloria had found out he’d gone through a fake wedding and all, Gertie was sure Gloria would have had nothing more to do with him.

They must have patched things up somehow.

But now Ian was dead and Gloria was all alone. They didn’t have no kids, Gertie had learned that much when Ian had tried to take Lillian away. Maybe it was just as well.

Gloria hated her. She’d seen the venom in Gloria’s eyes when she’d come in madam’s office. Not that Gertie could blame her for that. It must have really hurt to find out your husband had secretly married someone else.

Sighing, she put away the bad thoughts. She was close enough now to see Dan’s welcoming smile, and right then that was all that mattered to her. The rest of it could wait until she got back. Right now she was going to enjoy the next hour or two with the man she loved and her kids. Pansy, too. For a little while, life was good again.

 

 

 

Cecily folded her hands in her lap, reluctant to look at the silent woman seated in front of her. For the second time that day she had to tell a woman that the man she’d loved had died.

She’d had no idea that Gloria was still married to Ian—or Robert, if that was his real name. In fact, she was beginning to think she had never known Ian at all. After all that had happened, she could find nothing to equate the hard, bitter man who had just died with the bright young lad who had served her so well in the past.

“You know where he is, don’t you.”

With a start, Cecily looked up as Gloria broke the tense silence.“Yes, I’m afraid I do.” She cleared her throat. “Gloria, I am so very sorry. Ian . . . your husband was found in the duck pond this morning. I’m afraid he’s dead.”

Gloria’s expression remained stoic, though tears stole out from her eyes and coursed down her cheeks. “I suppose he was drunk?”

Her voice was accusing, as if this were all Cecily’s fault. She flinched, but met Gloria’s hard gaze steadily. “Yes, it appears that he might well have been enjoying a little too much spirits, but that was not the cause of his death. Not directly, anyway.”

Gloria’s eyes held a flicker of uneasiness. “So what did he die of then?”

“He . . . we think someone attacked him.”

It had sounded brutal, put like that, and Cecily wished she could have found a better way to say it.

Gloria, however, seemed to bear the brunt of it with remarkable fortitude. Although there was a distinct tremor in her voice when she asked, “So, do you know who it was that hit him, then?”

“Not at present, no, but we are endeavoring to find whoever killed your husband and bring him to justice.”

Gloria pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. After a long, difficult moment of silence, she muttered, “I thought, when he didn’t come home last night, that he might be over here.”

“I’m sorry.” Cecily fidgeted on her chair. There had to be something she could say other than that, but right then, she couldn’t think of a single thing.

After another long pause, Gloria spoke again. “Robert was always talking about the twins, and how he’d like to see more of them. I never thought, when he left to go down the pub last night, that it would be the last time I saw him. I went right to bed after he left, and I thought he’d be there when I woke up, but he wasn’t and I . . .” A slight sob escaped, and she blew her nose hard.

“I’m so sorry.” Cecily leaned forward. “Can I get you something? A cup of tea, perhaps?”

Gloria shook her head. “I bet it was someone at the pub. Robert was always getting into fights. I didn’t like some of the people he kept company with, neither, but he was always telling me I worry too much.” She dabbed at her eyes again.

At a loss as to how to comfort the grieving woman, Cecily said awkwardly, “Perhaps you’d feel better if you were at home. I’ll have someone drive you—”

“No!”

The woman’s vehemence startled Cecily and she raised her eyebrows.

Before she could speak, however, Gloria spoke, her words tumbling out so fast she stumbled over them. “I can’t go back there now. I really can’t. I’ll never go back to that place. Never!”

Concerned, Cecily quickly tried to reassure her. “It’s quite all right, Mrs. . . .” She hesitated, having forgotten Ian’s real last name.

“Gloria.” The widow looked up at her, and Cecily saw a moment of intense fear flash across her face before she composed herself again. “It’s just that I don’t know what I’m going to do now. We’ve been living in the flat over Abbitson’s, the butcher’s shop in the High Street. It was free all the time Robert was working in the shop. I can’t stay there now that he’s gone.”