“I never went to the theater. Not the Playhouse, anyway. I did see her after a show once, early in her career at a different theater. After seeing the constant stream of admirers coming into her dressing room that evening, I learned I didn’t want to repeat the experience. She didn’t care that they saw her half-dressed and they didn’t care that her older sister was present. If you want to know who her friends are now, you’ll have to ask around at the Playhouse. She performed there for most of her career.”
“I will, thank you.”
She glanced at the clock on the mantel and apologized. “I’m afraid I must leave. Do you have any more questions?”
“No, but I was hoping to look around the flat. I might find some letters from her friends, or a reason why she needed money.”
She glanced at the clock again.
“You don’t have to stay,” I said quickly. “I have a key to lock up. Leave the teacups; I’ll wash and dry them before I go.”
She gave me a wan smile. “I don’t see why not.” She crossed to a mahogany escritoire and flipped the lid on an inkwell. She wrote an address on a piece of paper and handed it to me. “Please keep me informed if you learn something. You can find me here.”
She and Millie saw themselves out, and I headed into the kitchen to wash and dry the dishes. A quick look in the cupboards proved Pearl kept very little food. There were no baking utensils and the oven and stove were spotless.
I searched the parlor next, starting with the escritoire. Pearl wasn’t much of a letter writer. There was no personal correspondence, just some legal and banking documents. One was a contract to work exclusively for the Piccadilly Playhouse which ended at the end of 1901 with theoption to extend if both parties wished it. It was signed by the theater manager, Mr. Culpepper. The bank statements showed she had some money in her own name, but not much. There were some doctors’ bills and several shop bills, most of which had been paid with the only outstanding ones being for recent purchases. They were not yet due. If Pearl needed money, it wasn’t to pay off creditors.
Aside from a very well stocked drinks trolley, there was nothing else of note in the parlor, so I moved on to the bedroom. I finally found the personal correspondence I’d hoped to find in one of her dressing table drawers. I undid the pink ribbon tying them together and went through them, one by one. There were thirty-eight, all written by Lord Rumford and dated over the previous two years. After reading the first two, I decided not to read further. Their contents made my cheeks burn, and he wasn’t a suspect anyway.
I searched the rest of her dressing table and moved on to her wardrobe, only to come up empty handed. I sat on the bed and looked around the room, trying to put myself in Pearl’s shoes. If I had jewels, where would I hide them?
After another search for loose floorboards, false bottoms and cavities in the walls, I decided that the jewelry couldn’t be in the flat at all. Mrs. Larsen must have taken them with her in the carpet bag as part of the personal effects she’d mentioned. As next of kin, they were hers to take, unless Pearl had left a will that excluded her sister. Lord Rumford clearly wasn’t expecting them back or he would have asked me to retrieve them while I was here.
I locked up the flat and returned to the hotel. It was late afternoon and many of the daytime staff should have left, while the number of kitchen staff would increase before the wait staff arrived. Frank was still on the door and he welcomed me back by telling me Harmony had been looking for me.
Goliath greeted me in the foyer. “Harmony wants to see you,” he said as he passed.
Peter looked up from the reservations book and beckoned me over. “Harmony is waiting for you in the staff parlor.”
“So I heard,” I said wryly.
“How is the investigation coming along?”
“You know about that?” I asked.
He looked offended. “Of course. Harmony told us.”
“Us?”
“Me, Goliath, Frank and Victor.” He gave me a blank look. “Why wouldn’t she tell us? We proved to be a great team last time.”
“Very true. Your help was invaluable in solving Mrs. Warrick’s murder. But this time the murder has taken place outside of the hotel. I don’t know how much help you can provide.”
“True enough, but if there’s anything we can do, you know where to find us.” He flashed me one of his characteristic smiles.
Of all the staff, Peter was the sweetest, with a genuinely pleasant nature. I was told that was why he was on the front desk. He made guests feel welcome, and since he was often the first person they spoke to upon arrival, and the last before they left, it was important for the hotel to put its best foot forward. Frank was the most cantankerous, although he usually managed to hide it as he opened the door for guests. He had not hidden it for me when I first arrived at the hotel, however. Seeing me dressed in clothing not suited to a luxury hotel, he assumed I was in the wrong place and treated me as though I couldn’t afford to set one toe across the threshold. He’d tripped over himself to be nice to me after finding out I was Sir Ronald’s niece, but my initial opinion of him hadn’t changed much.
Goliath, the extraordinarily tall porter, had a nature that was at odds with his physical appearance. He was rather boyishly innocent, preferring jokes to serious conversation. He liked rubbing Frank the wrong way, like a younger brother likes to irritate his older sibling. Frank always reacted badly, which was just what Goliath wanted.
Then there was Victor, one of the junior cooks. He was the most mysterious, and I hadn’t quite made up my mind if he was dangerous or not. He had an affinity for knives, but had thankfully channeled that aptitude to honest work rather than being a menace on the streets. From the hints Harmony had given, and the way he helped me break into theDean Street school for orphaned boys, clearly his past had been somewhat murky, but I was yet to uncover the details.
I smiled as I headed to the staff parlor behind the lift well. Mr. Armitage had been wrong. The staff did like me, enough to want to help me, at least. It would seem the only person who didn’t like me was Mr. Armitage himself. I didn’t know how to change that. I dearly wished I did.
Chapter 4
Ifound Harmony in the staff parlor reading one of the books I’d loaned her. When I entered, she slammed the book closed and hugged it to her chest, covering the cover. When she realized it was me, she let out a breath and lowered the book. Since staff were not allowed to borrow books from the hotel library, she was right to be cautious. If one of the senior staff caught her with it, she’d be in trouble. Mr. Hobart might merely chastise her, but Mrs. Short, the new housekeeper, could dock her pay. Mrs. Short had proved to be just as mean as her predecessor. Harmony had once quipped that it seemed to be a requirement of employment for housekeepers to be mean to their maids.
“Why didn’t you return home?” I asked her. “You’ve been up since before dawn. You must be exhausted.”
