“Grazie, signore. Il caffè ha un profumo delizioso.”
Luigi and his two companions stared at me. “You speak Italian?”
“Just enough to get by as a tourist in Italy.”
“Have you been?”
The notion that I could ever afford to go to Italy seemed so absurd that I laughed. “No.”
He sighed. “I ain’t been either, but I will one day.” He indicated the table in the window laid out with a red and white checked tablecloth. “Take a seat and I’ll bring you the best coffee you’ve ever tasted.”
Mr. Armitage pulled out the chair for me. “Did your mother teach you Italian?”
“My father.”
“I thought he was a professor of mathematics.”
I was surprised he knew that much. We’d not talked in great depth about our parents. “He was, but he had a lot of other interests. He taught me a little Italian, among other things.” It was fortunate I’d remembered as much as I did. My education in foreign languages had mostly ended with my parents’ deaths. I’d tried to continue alone but found it too difficult when there was no one to converse with.
“You had an unusual upbringing.”
I blinked at his comment. My upbringing had been ordinary compared to his. “Only if by unusual you mean cerebral. If there’s one thing my parents had in common it was their love of learning about anything and everything. They instilled that love in me, and my grandparents continued my education after my parents’ deaths. I’m afraid I’ve spent much of my life with my nose in a book or attending lectures.”
“At the university?”
“Occasionally, and only those women were allowed to attend. I also belonged to several societies and women’sinstitutes that had guest lecturers presenting on all manner of subjects."
“I would have liked to attend university,” he said. “But I needed to work and the hotel was as good a place as any.” There was no bitterness in his tone, no regret, merely a statement of fact.
“What would you have studied?”
He thought about it a moment. “Engineering. Ever since watching Tower Bridge being built I’ve been fascinated by construction.”
Luigi deposited two cups of coffee in the smallest cups I’d ever seen outside of a doll’s house. I closed my eyes and breathed in the aroma. When I opened them again, Mr. Armitage was watching me, a curious expression on his face.
“I wonder if this is what Italy smells like,” I said.
Mr. Armitage picked up his cup. “You should travel there one day and find out.”
“If only it were that easy. Now, about the case.” I sipped. “I do hope it comes to fruition, for your sake. But I also hope it doesn’t. You see, it involves your replacement, Mr. Hirst.”
Mr. Armitage lowered his cup with a frown. “What about him?”
I told him how I’d seen Mr. Hirst talking with a fellow who didn’t seem to belong in the hotel. “He told Uncle Ronald it was Mr. Clitheroe, a guest, but my uncle seemed unconvinced, although he didn’t press the point. Later, I got a better look at the fellow and it struck me that he was not dressed the way a gentleman guest would usually be in the evening. Even more strangely, after having a word with the night porter, the night porter didn’t open the door for him.”
“Was James or Phillip on duty?”
“James. This morning I asked your uncle for a description of Mr. Clitheroe. The man I’d seen the night before had a very prominent nose, you see. Your uncle said Mr. Clitheroe’s was merely somewhat prominent.” At Mr. Armitage’s shrug, I added, “You’re right, I could be seeing suspicious behavior where there is none. I’m sure Mr. Hirst wouldn’t lie. He has an excellent reputation, after all.”
“And yet he was eager to join the Mayfair even though it wasn’t apromotion.”
“Perhaps he simply wanted to gain experience under a different owner and manager.”
Mr. Armitage tapped the side of the cup with his finger then suddenly picked it up. “Finish your coffee, and I’ll accompany you back to the hotel. I’ll question my uncle first and see if there is a potential case here.”
“Have him point out the guest named Clitheroe to me. I’ll know immediately if he was the same man or not.” I opened my purse to pay for coffee, but Mr. Armitage refused.
“You gave me the case, Miss Fox. The least I can do is pay for your coffee.”
