Frank approached the carriage with the distinctive redcoachman’s seat and wheels. He opened the door and welcomed Sir Lawrence to the hotel. “Mr. Hobart will greet you in the foyer, sir, and take you up to Sir Ronald’s office.”
The gentleman hardly acknowledged Frank as he moved past him into the hotel. When Frank closed the door, I rejoined him.
“You still here, Miss Fox?” he asked. “Best to go inside before the weather turns.”
I indicated the carriage, pulling away from the curb. “How did you know that was Sir Lawrence Caldicott’s vehicle?”
He frowned at the carriage as the coachman drove it into the small gap between two hackneys, earning himself an angry shout from the driver of the rear one. “I’m familiar with the vehicle, I suppose. But I was also told to expect Sir Lawrence today. Mr. Hobart likes to keep me informed if important people are due to arrive. Sir Lawrence works at a bank and does business here with Sir Ronald from time to time.”
“But you would know that vehicle even if you weren’t expecting him?”
“I suppose I would. It’s the red wheels. Not too many have them. Why?”
It was a wild shot in the dark, but I had to take it. The Mayfair Hotel hosted many wealthy guests and I suspected the gentleman with the blemishes on his face was well-off. There was a chance he’d walked through these very doors, and Frank had welcomed him. “Do you know of a brougham with dark green doors?”
Frank scratched his sideburns. “Green doors are unusual, certainly, but not that rare. I reckon I can think of three, off the top of my head.” He stuck out his thumb. “Mr. Unley has one.” He put up his forefinger. “Lord Hatfield.” His third finger joined the others. “And the Mallorys.”
I opened my purse and pulled out the photograph. “Is he one of the gentlemen you just mentioned?”
He began to shake his head, but stopped. “He’s not, but he looks familiar. I can’t think of his name, but I haven’t seen him here in a long time. I don’t know what color doors his carriage has, either. You should ask Mr.Hobart or Mr. Armitage.” He clicked his fingers. “Sorry, force of habit mentioning him in the same breath as his uncle. Ask Mr. Hobart. He’s got a good eye for faces.”
I spent the next half hour chasing Mr. Hobart around the hotel. Peter told me he was in Mr. Chapman’s office, but when I got there, Mr. Chapman said I’d just missed him and he’d gone to the kitchen. The kitchen staff said he’d already left and was with Mrs. Short, but Mrs. Short hadn’t see him yet and suspected he’d been waylaid by a guest.
I gave up and headed out again. The walk to Mr. Armitage’s office did me good and allowed me to gather my thoughts. Not that there were many to gather, but I at least felt as though I was making progress.
Mr. Armitage’s office door was locked but there was a handwritten note pinned to it that said he could be found in the Roma Café next door. I entered the café and was greeted with a hearty welcome from Luigi and nods from each of the two old men sitting on stools at the counter. They were the same men as last time.
“What a pleasant surprise!” Luigi said, throwing his arms wide. “It’s good to see you,Bella. Come, sit with Harry and I’ll bring you coffee.”
Mr. Armitage watched me approach with a scowl. He’d been reading the newspaper but he now folded it up and tossed it onto a nearby table. “Let me guess,” he said. “The beak-nosed man is stealing jewels from the guests’ rooms.”
“No, and I don’t think you should joke about it. It might very well be true.” I sat and placed my purse on my lap. “I see you’re working hard.”
“I don’t have any work yet, so I might as well come here for the company and coffee.”
I eyed the elderly men on the stools and Luigi grinding the beans behind the counter. “You were reading the newspaper, keeping your own company. And what if someone comes to your office and finds you not there?”
“That’s what the sign is for.”
“It’s not very professional.”
“Is there a point to your visit, Miss Fox, or are you just here to find fault with me?”
I tilted my head to the side and gave him an arched look. “It’s very difficult to find fault with you, Mr. Armitage.”
He blinked rapidly back at me and his mouth opened and closed without uttering a word. It seemed I’d caught him off-guard.
“And well you know it,” I added.
He laughed softly. “I knew you complimenting me was too good to be true.”
I smiled back, pleased with his reaction. There weren’t many ways to disarm him, but I was learning how to crack his frosty façade whenever he put it up. I still had some way to go before he’d forgive me completely, however, and treat me with the same open friendliness from before the debacle that saw him dismissed from the hotel.
“I need your help, as it happens,” I said.
His gaze narrowed. “Is this your way of getting me to agree to share the murder investigation?”
“Of course not. I’m not offering to share with you anymore. You made it quite clear that you were offended by the idea.”
