Page 39 of The Locked Room

The inspector’s smile was hard and glittering. ‘You may depend upon it, Miss Smith. Once the prey is in my sights, I never miss my mark.’

Harry was woken from sleep by an insistent hand upon her shoulder, shaking her gently until her eyes flew open. It took her a moment to absorb that someone stood beside her, and several seconds more to realise that the person illuminated in the half-light from the open door was Beth. Sitting up, her heart thudding from being awoken so abruptly, Harry reached for the bedside lamp and peered at the other woman, taking in her apprehensive expression. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

‘Come through to the living room,’ Beth said, her expression inscrutable. ‘I’ll brew some tea.’

She left the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Harry lay back against the pillows. The time on her bedside clock showed it was just past midnight. While she had thought it possible that Beth might return to Hamilton Square after her reconnaissance mission at the Hot Spot, she had not anticipated she would feel the need to wake her. Something must have happened.

In the soft light from the single table lamp in the living room, Harry saw Beth wore the same dress she’d worn on her previous visit to the nightclub. The hem was sodden, she observed, and crusted with dirt, suggesting it had started to rain sometime after she and Oliver had said goodnight and gone their separate ways. A pair of grubby, water-stained satin shoes sat beside the still glowing hearth. Harry frowned. ‘Did you walk all the way from Soho?’

Beth looked up from the kettle. ‘No. But it took me a while to find a cab I liked the look of.’ She sniffed. ‘He still tried to charge me an arm and a leg. I think he was a bit surprised when I told him where to get off.’

Harry couldn’t prevent a smile as she settled on the settee. ‘Good for you.’

‘And don’t worry about the shoes,’ Beth said. ‘I know a trick that’ll bring them up as good as new.’

‘Your shoes are the least of my concerns,’ Harry replied, taking in her set expression and the stiffness in her shoulders. ‘It’s you I’m worried about. Did something untoward happen tonight?’

Beth lifted the tea tray and brought it to where Harry waited. ‘You could say that,’ she said, grimacing as she reached down to massage her stockinged feet. ‘I went to the club, like we planned, only it turned out Serafina weren’t working. She’d called in with a headache or some such, according to the lads around the back. Bang went my excuse for being there, but I thought I might be able to do some digging all the same, if I could get inside.’

‘How did you manage that?’ Harry asked curiously.

‘I got a bit lucky there,’ Beth admitted. ‘I couldn’t sweet talk my way in through the staff entrance so I went round to the front, to try my hand with the old girl who keeps the door. And who should I meet on Gerrard Street but your friend Mr Finchem.’

It was the last name Harry had expected to hear. ‘Percy?’

‘The very same,’ Beth confirmed. ‘He remembered my name, asked about my plans for the evening and invited me to join his party.’

Harry blinked. ‘That was lucky. How did he get you past Nell?’

She shrugged. ‘Gave a false name, same as your brother. Millicent Hendry, as I recall. I had a squint at the book when I signed – seems he had quite the party planned. The table was the biggest there – Albert nearly scraped his nose on the floor he bowed so low. Except he wasn’t called Albert this time – his name was Jacques, if you please.’

That wasn’t a surprise – Harry imagined he adopted a different name every night of the week. It was a code, to protect the premises from unwanted visitors. She narrowed her eyes. ‘Was Seb there?’

‘I didn’t see him if he was. But Percy didn’t leave me alone long enough to do much nosing around. He introduced me to all his friends, wouldn’t hear of me paying for any drinks and kept topping up my glass.’ She sighed with evident regret. ‘I had to tip a lot of champagne on the floor when he weren’t looking.’

Harry tried not to wince, despite being impressed by her guile. ‘It sounds as though he was very attentive.’

‘Oh, he was quite the charmer,’ Beth said, raising her eyebrows. ‘I can see why you like him. But it turns out he only wanted me for one thing.’

Instantly, Harry’s heart plummeted. ‘Oh, no,’ she murmured, her hand covering Beth’s. ‘He didn’t⁠—’

‘Not that thing,’ Beth said, throwing her an amused glance. ‘Trust me, I know how to dampen a man’s ardour when he gets a bit fresh, and gentlemen are just as tender as dockers.’

‘Oh.’ Harry sat back, unsure whether it was Beth’s confidence in her ability to defend herself or the fact that she hadn’t needed to that reassured her the most. ‘Good.’

After a swift swirl of the pot, Beth set about pouring the tea. ‘What he really wanted was information about you. At first it was just general stuff, asking after your family, that kind of thing. He said he’d been to Abinger Hall and beaten your brother at cards.’

‘He has,’ Harry said, recalling that both Seb and Lawrence had good-naturedly complained about coming off worse in a late-night poker game. ‘What else did he ask about?’

Beth gave her a sidelong look. ‘He seemed very interested in Mr Fortescue, asked how often you saw each other and wanted to know if I thought you were sweet on him.’

A blush swarmed across Harry’s cheeks. She took refuge in a sip of scalding tea and instantly regretted it. ‘What did you say?’

‘I said I hadn’t the faintest idea. And then he asked if you’d found a way to scare off Serafina yet.’

‘Serafina?’ Harry repeated, lowering her cup to the saucer with a clatter. ‘How could he know about that?’

But even as she said it, the pieces fell into place. Percy and Rufus were part of the same social set, and both appeared to be regulars at the Hot Spot. Percy had probably known about her brother’s dalliance with the dance hostess long before his family had.