AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I could, to a point, but it would be beneficial if a grateful relative offered me financial reward for proving he didn’t end his own life. It was a slim hope, but one I held onto. Even without payment, an investigation gave me something to do for the next little while. There was only so much shopping with Flossy I could bear.
I didn’t stop at the Roma Café when I reached Broadwick Street, Soho. Persistent rain meant I had to keep my umbrella up all the way to the door, and I couldn’t juggle it along with two coffee cups and the door handle. I pushed open the door, lowered the umbrella and held it away from my skirt as I ascended the stairs to Harry’s office. I opened his door without knocking.
He'd been in the process of throwing his coat on, preparing to leave. He paused for a mere moment, took in my presence with barely a flicker of surprise, then continued to put on his coat. “That didn’t take long.”
His collar wasn’t sitting smoothly, but I resisted the urge to fix it. Getting that close to him wasn’t a good idea given the way my pulse quickened at the mere sight of him after several days apart. “What didn’t?”
“For my uncle to inform you of the suspicions surrounding Tobias Plumtree’s death, and for you to assume he was murdered and take on the investigation, despite nobody asking you to.”
“Am I that predictable?”
He gave my umbrella a pointed look. “You’re dripping on my floor.”
I slotted the umbrella into the cast iron holder then took a seat. “It is murder, isn’t it? If it’s not suicide, what else can it be?”
Harry removed his coat and sat on the other side of the desk. Wherever he was heading off to, it mustn’t be urgent or he would have sent me on my way. He seemed quite content to stay and chat about Mr. Plumtree. “Most people would assume an accident. But not you, Cleo.”
“Couldit have been an accident?”
“No.”
“There you are then.”
One corner of his lips tilted in amusement. “The official verdict is that he hanged himself. Unofficially, I had doubts which I voiced to my father last night over dinner. He agreed, but for a different reason. Plumtree was a short man, and the stool on which he supposedly stood on before kicking away was too low. Even if he stood on his toes, the noose couldn’t have reached his neck.”
“Your father is familiar with the case?”
“Apparently the lead investigator is not up to snuff, and his second asked my father for advice. Unfortunately, he was unable to re-open the investigation without the lead’s consent and a verdict of suicide has been recorded. My father wouldn’t have even mentioned it to me except that I voiced my opinion to him after seeing the obituary.”
“And he hoped you would look into it?”
“I told him I’d try but I’m busy with my own case and can’t take on another where I won’t get paid. Uncle Alfred must have decided to tell you about it. It makes sense to involve you since Plumtree was a frequent guest at the Mayfair before he married and some of the staff might remember him.”
Mr. Hobart seemed to think I didn’t need to be paid. While Harry knew I wanted to become financially independent from my family, he wouldn’t have told anyone without my consent. It was quite possible Mr. Hobart thought I was wealthy in my own right. Many people did.
My maternal grandparents had been rich. My mother and her sister, Aunt Lilian, were their only heirs. But they’d cut my mother out of an inheritance when she defied them and married my father, a mathematics professor. My aunt inherited everything, most of which went to renovating Uncle Ronald’s mansion home to turn it into the Mayfair Hotel.
I suddenly became aware that Harry had been staring at me for several seconds. When he realized I noticed, he looked away and focused on the window. “It’s still raining,” he said.
“Dreadful weather we’ve been having.”
“Hopefully it won’t last.”
The conversation was as dreery as the weather. Unfortunately I failed to improve it with my next comment. “You look well.”
“As do you.”
“Miss Morris must agree with you.”
He made a sound in his throat, part cough, part choke.
“Tell me what you know about Tobias Plumtree,” I said quickly. “Why don’t you think he took his own life?”
“He was self-centered and arrogant. He treated his staff poorly and those he considered beneath him with contempt. Including me.”
“The obituary said his company experienced some problems recently, but didn’t go into detail.”
“That’s one of the reasons the verdict of suicide was reached. Gooding and Plumtree is a shipping firm. They suffered a substantial loss when one of their ships went down in January, losing some of the crew and all of its cargo.”
