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“All right for you, you mean,” Floyd muttered. “He’s letting you investigate with Armitage again.”
Mr. Hobart beamed. “Marvelous! No more sneaking around. Not that they did,” he quickly added for Floyd’s benefit.
“My father’s right though. Miss Morris won’t like it if Armitage asks you to investigate with him, Cleo. Women don’t like other women seeing their man when they’re not around. Trust me, I learned that the hard way.” He frowned. “There is a Miss Morris, isn’t there?”
I laughed. “I didn’t make her up.”
“She exists,” Mr. Hobart said. “I’ve met her. Lovely young woman and quite beautiful.”
I schooled my features, determined not to let him see how much I loathed the idea of Harry besotted with a beautiful and lovely young woman, one he’d already introduced to his family. I had no right to be jealous. This feeling would pass, in time. Until then, I would try not to think about him with her.
What I needed was an investigation to distract me. One where Harry wasn’t involved.
Floyd rocked back on his heels, looking smug. While he liked Harry, he worried there was something more between us, despite my assurances that we were merely friends. For some reason, he didn’t believe me, and he didn’t want me to be with someone he thought beneath me. The presence of Miss Morris pleased him. It seemed to please everyone.
“So that’s the end of that,” he said. “No more investigating for you, Cleo. Armitage’s girl will see to it.”
I kept my mouth shut. Like my uncle, he seemed to think the only investigating I did was at Harry’s request. But I undertook my own investigations. Now all I needed to do was find one.
As it happened, one fell in my lap.
Mr. Hobart withdrew a torn newspaper article from his jacket pocket and sighed. He passed it to Floyd. “I was going to show your father this obituary before we got sidetracked. I thought he’d want to know.”
Floyd read the three lengthy paragraphs about the deceased man named Tobias Plumtree. “I remember him. He used to stay here when he was in London before he married. He often dined at our table. Father liked him but I never cared for him much. He never had time for me.” He handed the article back. “It doesn’t say how he died.”
“That’s because it was by his own hand, if one believes the official verdict.”
“You don’t think it was suicide?” I asked.
Mr. Hobart stared down at the picture. “He didn’t seem like the type, from what I remember of him. Harry tends to agree. While he doesn’t remember him well from Plumtree’s stays here, he told me at dinner last night that he came across him in his current investigation.”
“What investigation?”
“I can’t tell you, Miss Fox, sorry. Harry wouldn’t even tell me.”
“I wonder if it has something to do with Mr. Massie,” Floyd mused.
Mr. Hobart looked up. “The Salt King?”
“Massie approached me a few days ago at our club and asked me what I thought of Armitage, whether he was reliable, discreet, that sort of thing. He’d seen his agency’s name in the newspaper some time ago, I believe, and was considering hiring him, although he didn’t say why. I told him he was an excellent assistant manager and the most upstanding chap. I assured him he’d put the same energy and discretion into his new investigative venture as he had in his work here.”
“Thank you, sir. That’s very kind of you to give such a glowing report of my nephew.” Mr. Hobart seemed overwhelmed by Floyd’s support. If he knew what Floyd owed Harry, he wouldn’t be so surprised. Giving a glowing report was the least Floyd could do. “Harry gave me no specifics about his investigation. All he would say was that he met Mr. Plumtree again recently, and that he didn’t think he would take his own life. My brother also expressed doubts, something to do with the manner of death.”
Mr. Hobart’s brother was Harry’s adopted father, Mr. Stephen Hobart, a detective inspector at Scotland Yard until recently. He’d been forced into early retirement by superiors who didn’t like that he brought those in the highest levels of society to justice. If he doubted suicide was the cause of death then that was enough for me to doubt it too.
I headed for the lift and pressed the button to alert the operator. Floyd and Mr. Hobart followed and waited with me.
“I know that look,” Floyd said. “You’re going to speak to Armitage, aren’t you?”
“I’m going to pay a call on a friend I haven’t seen for several days. If we happen to discuss his current investigation, then so be it.”
He scowled. “This is your fault, Hobart. I don’t know why you told her about Armitage’s doubts over Plumtree’s demise. You know what she’s like.”
Mr. Hobart smiled his benign smile. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re referring to, sir.”
Chapter 2
My determination to conduct my next investigation alone to distract me from Harry and Miss Morris was not off to a good start. I could see no way around this meeting, however. To discover more about Tobias Plumtree and the doubts surrounding his apparent suicide, I had to speak to Harry. Hopefully after this initial conversation, I wouldn’t need to consult him again. His own investigation didn’t directly involve Plumtree, and he would have no interest in investigating Plumtree’s death if it turned out to be murder. There was no paying client. Harry couldn’t afford to take on another investigation where he received no compensation.
