“Excellent. Thank you, Mr. Mayhew.”
“Thankyou.” The proprietor expelled a heavy sigh. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another. I hope a death in the hotel won’t put people off coming here.”
“Perhaps for a time, but people have short memories.”
“I pray we can last that long.”
Frederick tilted his head to survey the man. “I thought things were going well?”
“Oh, they are. Of course they are. Forgive me, I should not speak my every thought aloud. No need to trouble you with my petty concerns. I shall bid you good night and get back to the pile of paperwork on my desk.”
Frederick nodded, then said, “Since the coroner is finished with room three, might I take another look?”
Mayhew hesitated. “I suppose that would be all right.”
“You are welcome to supervise.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary, you being magistrate.” The man added wryly, “And me being behind on everything.” He quickly retrieved a key from his desk. “Here’s the spare. I shall ask the undertaker to come in the morning. Just remember to lock the door when you leave.”
Frederick thanked him and returned to the coffee room. Noah Brixton stood in the passage, leaning his head back against the wall, eyes heavy.
“Go home, Brixton. You’ll need to rise in a few hours.”
“Only if I want my bread to rise too.” The young baker chuckled, even though weariness etched lines around his eyes.
Frederick clapped his shoulder. “I’ll remain vigilant tonight. Get some sleep.”
“Thank you, sir. The missus is more exhausted than I with the new babe to feed round the clock. But I’ll be back in the morning, soon as I can.”
“I know you will.”
Inside, the inquest adjourned and the coffee room began to empty. Frederick caught Mary Hinton, Mr. George, and Mr. Edgecombe as they were leaving.
“May I ask you three to come upstairs for a few minutes? I would like your help in determining if anything is missing from Mr. Oliver’s room. I thought, between you, you might be able to account for the man’s belongings.” Theft might have been motive for a break-in that resulted in Mr. Oliver’s death, Frederick reasoned, though he kept that theory to himself.
Mary nodded her agreement. The men exchanged looks of surprise but raised no objection.
Frederick led the way with the key, while the others followed him upstairs.
He unlocked number three, saying, “Give me one moment.”
Entering first, he saw the room appeared the same as it had that morning, except that the smoldering embers in the grate had gone cold. He spread a sheet over Mr. Oliver’s body in deference to Mary. He noticed the man’s key, watch, and purse lying on the side table and looked briefly inside, recording the contents in his notebook.
Then he stepped back out. “We’ll do this one at a time, if you don’t mind.”
The chambermaid entered first, nervously plucking at her apron.
“You mentioned you were in here just last night, is that right?” Frederick asked.
“Yes, sir. When I brought up his dinner.”
Frederick gestured around the room. “Notice anything missing? Anything not where it was?”
She looked around, studiously avoiding the shrouded figure, brow puckered in concentration.
“Take your time,” he encouraged.
“Hard to tell, sir. I seem to remember more paper. Stacks of the stuff. Though I might be mistaken.” She pivoted around once more. “Nothing else seems different.”
