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“I don’t suppose you would leave if I suggested it,” I said.
He snapped the paper to straighten it. “You suppose correctly. I’ll keep watch out here.”
“And what will you do if my uncle sees you?”
“I’ll think of something.”
“Don’t get into a row with him.”
He peered at me over the top of the newspaper. “It would be a good distraction and give you time to get out of Mrs. Short’s office.”
“Don’t get into a row with him,” I said again, adding a stern glare for good measure.
He lifted the newspaper to hide his face.
I waited until I saw Mrs. Short leave her office with Harmony. Peter looked in and re-emerged immediately. He shook his head at me and shrugged. Mr. Chapman wasn’t there.
I crossed the foyer then slipped into the office and closed the door. The employee files were in a cabinet behind Mrs. Short’s desk. I searched for Mercy Price then Mercy Prince, but there was no one by either name. I flicked through all of the surnames beginning with Pr and found her listed as Mercy Prentice.
According to the file, she’d worked for a mere six weeks before being dismissed. One of the guests had caught her looking through the dressing table drawers in their suite. Although nothing had been taken, Mercy was dismissed immediately. As with most of the maids, she’d lived in the staff residence hall, but an address for her parents had been written down in Mrs. Kettering’s neat hand. I committed it to memory then returned the file to the cabinet.
I opened the office door a crack and peered out. My view was blocked by the large form of Goliath. At that moment, he began to whistle off-key. Without being able to see past him, I didn’t know if it was Mr. Chapman or Mrs. Short returning to their office, or merely someone else passing by.
“Goliath,” I whispered. “Who is it?”
His whistling stopped. “Mr. Bainbridge. It’s safe to come out. Mr. Armitage stopped him and is now speaking to him. Mr. Bainbridge has his back to us.”
I quickly stepped out and hurried into the foyer to rescue Harry from my cousin. Harry had angled himself so that Floyd had to face away from the staff office area to speak to him. I approached Floyd from behind and quickly schooled my features.
“Harry, this is a surprise,” I said. “Have you come to visit Mr. Hobart?”
Floyd turned to me and crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course he has. Why else would be here? Christ, Cleo, stop interrogating everyone all the time. We know you like to fashion yourself as a sleuth, but there’s no need for the constant questions. Leave the man alone.”
I blinked at him as he strode off. Frank couldn’t open the front door fast enough and received a glare from Floyd as he waited.
“What did you say to him?” I asked Harry.
“We were just talking. So did you find an address for Mercy?”
He wasn’t going to elaborate on the conversation he’d had with Floyd any more than he was going to tell me why he’d gone to the gambling house with him. I let the matter go and told him what I’d learned as we left the hotel.
Mercy Prentice’sparents lived in a working class area on the other side of the river. After convincing her mother that we wished to speak to her daughter about working at the hotel again, she finally told us where to find Mercy.
It was mid-afternoon by the time we reached the residence hall that housed the Palmerston Hotel staff. We waited in the small sitting room near the entrance while the matron fetched Mercy Prentice. Harry couldn’t sit still, however. He strode around the room, shaking his head at the peeling paint, the rising damp, and the electric wire dangling from the ceiling. He was so tall he could touch it, but was wise enough not to.
“This place is a disgrace,” he muttered. “The staff deserve better.”
Mercy entered, took one look at him, and turned to flee. But the matron unwittingly blocked the doorway with her bulky frame and Mercy had the good sense not to order her to move. The matron didn’t look like someone who’d take kindly to one of her residents telling her what to do.
“Miss Prentice, may we have a private word about your parents?” Harry asked.
Mercy was caught off guard. “My parents? What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
Harry eyed the matron until she left and closed the door. “Nothing,” he told Mercy. “I had to say something to get rid of her yet not raise her suspicions.” He stepped around Mercy and stood in front of the door. “This is Miss Fox, and I’m Harry Armitage.”
“I know. I remember you.”
“I no longer work for the Mayfair Hotel. I’m a private detective now, and I need to ask you some questions about Mr. Ambrose McDonald.”
