I gasped. “You’d steal my case from me?”
“It’s not stealing. You can’t investigate it. You’re not a private detective. I am.”
“Anyone can be a private detective, including women. One doesn’t need a license or even an office.” I stood. “And your uncle doesn’t know about this situation. If he did, he would have done something before now.”
I strode to the door, opened it and left without so much as a goodbye. The man didn’t deserve it. The fleeting glimpse I’d caught of the disappointment on his face before closing the door was satisfying, and probably explained why my anger quickly dissolved. By the time I’d reached the street, it had gone altogether and reason returned.
Mr. Armitage was right. I wasn’t a private detective. I couldn’t ask for money from Mr. Hobart to investigate the beak-nosed man’s presence in the hotel. Indeed, I wasn’t even sure if there was something illicit going on at all.
I glanced along the street just as a gust of wind blew a newspaper sheet into my skirts. I kicked it away and watched it turn end over end before running out of steam outside a leather shop. This really wasn’t the best address for a detective agency hoping to attract a well-to-do clientele.
I sighed. Mr. Armitage needed the money more than me. He needed this career to work more than I did. I had a lovely roof over my head and an income from my allowance. He had nothing, and that was thanks to me. I owed him this first case.
I turned back to the door just as it burst open and Mr. Armitage rushed out. He barreled into me, and I was only saved from being knocked off my feet by his two strong hands gripping my arms.
“Miss Fox!” He was as surprised to bump into me as I was at being bumped into. “You’re still here.”
“Yes,” I said, somewhat breathless. “Yes,” I said again, louder.
His thumbs skimmed over my arms before he released me. “I’m sorry. Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine, thank you. I can see you’re in a hurry, so I’ll be quick. I have something to say, which is why I haven’t left.”
He adjusted his tie and stretched his neck out of his collar. “Let me speak first, please. I’m not on my way out.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to catch you, as it happens.”
“Oh?”
He glanced up at the gray sky. “I, uh—I wanted to apologize for my behavior in there. I don’t know why, but you bring out the worst in me. I’m not usually so…”
“Unkind? Arrogant? Condescending?”
He laughed softly. “I was going to say ungentlemanly.”
“There’s no need to apologize. I’m just as much to blame. It seems you bring out the worst in me too.”
He indicated the door behind him. “That’s your worst?”
“I don’t usually storm out of offices when I don’t get my way. I like to think I’ve grown out of such childish petulance.”
He gave me a tight smile. “Well then. I’m glad we cleared the air. Good day, Miss Fox.” He turned to go inside.
“Wait a moment. I want to tell you about the case.”
“You meanyourcase.”
I shook my head. “It’s yours now. That’s if it is a case at all. I’m not yet sure if there is something requiring investigation, but you can talk to your uncle to see what he thinks. I promise not to interfere. The investigation is entirely yours.”
“Why the change of heart?”
He might get offended if I told him I felt sorry for him. Since I couldn’t come up with a different reason quickly, I ignored his question altogether. “Let’s talk about it in your office.”
“I have a better idea. Luigi brews great coffee.”
He opened the door to the Roma Café and the delicious smell of roasting beans enveloped me. The two men sitting on stools at the counter looked up. Both had the craggy faces of men well past middle-age with the swarthy complexion of Italians. They nodded at Mr. Armitage, who nodded back.
The man behind the counter threw his hands in the air and smiled broadly. “Harry! Come in, come in.” HisCockney accent was at odds with an appearance that was as tanned as the two customers. He was much younger, however. I guessed him to be no more than thirty-five.
Mr. Armitage introduced him as Luigi, the café owner. Luigi reached across the counter and clasped my hand between both of his. “Bella signora. Benvenuti nel mio caffè.”
