Mulled Murder (Pennyfoot Holiday Mysteries) (10 page)

“She likes you,” Pansy said, smiling at the stable lad, who was backing away from her. “She doesn’t usually like men.”

“I’m really good with dogs,” Henry muttered, then touched his cap with his fingers and fled back to the stables.

Shrugging, Pansy knelt by Tess’s side and wrapped her arms around the big dog’s neck. “How’s my baby doing, then? Do you miss me?”

For answer the dog started sniffing at her apron pocket, wagging her tail so furiously Pansy could feel the draft. Laughing, she pulled the bone from her pocket. “Here you are, then. Chew on that for a while.”

Tess took the bone in between her teeth and lowered her haunches. She looked so funny sitting there with the bone sticking out each end of her jaws, Pansy burst out laughing. Standing, she patted the dog on the head. “I’ve got to get back,” she said, leaning down to drop a kiss on Tess’s soft head. “Don’t worry, Tess. Soon we’ll be together all the time. You, me, and Samuel.”

Excitement surged through her at the thought and she straightened, feeling like flinging out her arms and doing a dance. It was just as well she didn’t, because just then she caught sight of Bernie, the plumber. He was standing at the corner of the stables, watching her.

As their gazes met, he waved an arm at her, and reluctantly, she waved back. He was a nice, friendly chap, she thought, as she hurried back to the kitchen, but she wished he wouldn’t keep bothering her. She’d already told him she was getting married. That should have been enough to put him off.

At the thought of her wedding, as always, all other matters vanished from her mind. By Christmas Eve she’d be Mrs. Samuel Whitfield. Giddy at the thought, she skipped the rest of the way to the kitchen door.

Opening it, she was dismayed to see Mrs. Chubb waiting for her, arms folded, which meant the housekeeper was getting ready to yell at her. “I’m sorry,” she said hastily, as she draped her shawl over the hook on the wall. “I just stepped out for a minute.”

“Taking one of my soup bones for ze mangy mutt,” Michel called out from the stove. He waved a wooden spoon at her. “How am I supposed to make soup for all ze guests when you steal ze bones, eh?”

“It was just a little bone. I didn’t think you’d miss it.” Pansy slipped past Mrs. Chubb. “I’d better get upstairs to the dining room.”

“Yes, you’d better,” Mrs. Chubb said, looking stern. “The guests are on their way there now. Get a move on and get a clean apron before you go up there. You’ve got grease all over that one.”

Pansy looked down at her stained apron. “Yes, Mrs. Chubb. Sorry, Mrs. Chubb.” She flew out the door before the housekeeper could say anything else. Relieved that she’d escaped so lightly, she headed for the laundry room.

One of the laundry maids grinned at her as she threw the soiled apron into a basket. “Been feeding that dog again, have yer?”

Pansy nodded. “It’s Christmas, isn’t it. Dogs like a Christmas treat just like humans.”

“They do that.” The maid gave her a sly look as she handed her a clean apron. “All ready for the wedding, are yer?”

“Almost. I haven’t got the dresses yet but they should be here by this afternoon.”

“Must be lovely, knowing you’re getting married Christmas Eve.”

“It is.” Aware of the time ticking away, Pansy pulled on the apron and turned to the door.

“What about that new plumber bloke then?”

Pansy paused, looking back over her shoulder. “What about him?”

“Bit of a saucy lad, he is.”

Pansy opened her eyes wide. “Is he? I wouldn’t know.”

“Word is he’s making eyes at all the women here.” She giggled. “He caught up with me out there in the corridor and told me I was the prettiest girl in the club.”

Pansy nodded. “Sounds like something he would say.” She opened the door. “I gotta go. Thanks for the clean apron.” She was out the door before the other woman had time to answer.

Gertie was just inside the door of the dining room when Pansy reached it. “Where the bloody hell have you been?” she demanded. “I’ve been waiting for you to get here so as I can go and look in on my twins. I couldn’t leave Dopey and Dozey alone up here. One doesn’t know what she’s doing and the other one doesn’t bleeding care.”

Pansy followed Gertie’s gaze to the other side of the room, where Lilly and Alice appeared to be arguing over who should ladle the soup. “I’ll go and sort them out,” she told Gertie. “You go and look after your twins.”

“Thanks.” Gertie grinned at her. “Bloody good luck with those two.”

Sighing, Pansy made her way across the dining room, being careful to skirt the tables, which were filling up with guests. Reaching the two young girls, she had to raise her voice to get their attention. “What’s going on here, then?”

Lilly turned a flushed face in Pansy’s direction. “I’m trying to show her how to pour the soup into the bowls but she doesn’t want to listen. She keeps staring at the guests, instead.”

“I know how to pour soup,” Alice said, giving Lilly a nasty look. “It’s not that difficult.”

Lilly raised her chin. “I thought you didn’t remember nothing.”

Alice’s face turned red now. “I don’t remember my name or where I came from. I do remember other things.”

“All right.” Lilly shoved the ladle at her. “Take four bowls of soup to the table over there.” She nodded at a table by the window.

Alice took one look and shuddered. “There’s men at the table.”

“Of course there’s men. They’re at every table.” Lilly looked at Pansy in disgust. “What’s the matter with her?”

Pansy quickly stepped in. “All right. Alice, you can stand here and ladle the soup. Lilly and I will serve it.”

Lilly stared at her. “But—”

“Never mind.” Pansy gave her a sharp nudge in the arm. “Just do what I say.”

Obviously annoyed, Lilly shrugged. She waited, tapping an impatient toe, while Alice spooned soup into the bowls and placed them on a tray. Then, with an air of being put-upon, Lilly picked up the tray and carried it over to the window table.

“Thank you,” Alice whispered, as she ladled more soup into bowls.

“It’s all right.” Pansy picked up a tray. “I understand.” She’d have a word with Lilly afterward, she decided. Maybe she could get her to be more sympathetic.

She got her chance after the entire meal had been served. Gertie had returned and taken Alice off to help her load the dumbwaiter, while Lilly stayed behind with Pansy to finish clearing the tables.

“You should be nicer to Alice,” Pansy said, as the two of them collected the dirty dishes. “She must have had a terrible time to lose her memory like that.”

Lilly scowled. “I do feel sorry for her, but she’s so slow, and she acts silly whenever a man comes near her.”

“I think she’s afraid of them.”

Lilly looked as if someone had slapped her.

Shocked by the stricken look on the face of the maid, Pansy said hurriedly, “It’s just an idea, that’s all. But Alice acts the same way Tess does around men. Samuel said it was because Tess had been ill-treated by a man and now she’s afraid of all men. I think that’s why Alice is afraid of them.”

“I’m sorry,” Lilly stammered. “I didn’t know.”

“She probably doesn’t even know about it.” Pansy picked up a plate and stacked it on the pile next to her. “What with her lost memory and all. Don’t say nothing to her. It would only upset her and besides, I don’t really know if it’s true.”

Lilly gathered up the crumpled serviettes and shoved them in the basket. “Well, I pity her if it is,” she muttered. “Some men are filthy pigs. They should all be strung up to burn in hell.”

The venom in Lilly’s voice unsettled Pansy, and she quickly changed the subject. But the look on the maid’s face stayed with her throughout the rest of the day.

CHAPTER
10

Cecily had just reached the bottom of the stairs on her way to her office when she saw Miss Essie Bentley entering through the front door. Seizing the chance to speak with the young woman, Cecily hurried over to her.

Essie gave her a shy nod and would have brushed past her had Cecily not stepped in front of her to bar her way.

“I do hope you are enjoying your stay with us,” she said, noting the way the young girl kept her gaze on the floor. “If there’s anything we can do to make your visit more pleasurable, do be sure to let us know.”

Essie murmured something too low for Cecily to understand. Taking that to mean all was well, Cecily added quietly, “A member of my staff informed me that one of our guests has been annoying you. Mr. Gerald Evans, I believe. I just wanted to assure you that he is no longer in the Pennyfoot, so he won’t be bothering you again.”

Essie raised her chin, and looked directly into Cecily’s eyes. “Then it’s good riddance to bad rubbish.”

Taken aback, Cecily watched her hurry over to the stairs. It would seem that Miss Essie Bentley had more gumption than anyone realized.

Following more slowly, she reached the stairs just in time to see Fred Granson turn the curve and start down toward her.

She waited for him to arrive at the bottom, then tapped his arm as he passed her.

He turned his head, seeming startled by the contact. Giving her a slight bow, he murmured, “Mrs. Baxter? Can I help you with something?”

She made sure to exaggerate every word when she answered him, forming each word carefully so that he could read her lips. “Mr. Granson, I trust you are comfortable in your room?”

Wrinkles appeared in his forehead as he stared at her. “Very comfortable, I assure you.”

“I was wondering if I may ask that you include your address in the hotel register.” She smiled in an effort to put him at ease. “It’s just a formality, of course. We ask that all our guests leave their address. It helps us to return any items that are left in the room.”

The brow grew more furrowed. “Items?”

She opened her mouth a little wider. “Things you may forget to take with you when you leave.”

Anxious to make sure he understood her, she had unknowingly raised her voice. A couple of guests crossing the foyer gave her a curious stare, and she hastily stepped out of their way so they could use the stairs.

Mr. Granson stood where he was, an odd expression on his face. Just then Philip came up to him and handed him a folded newspaper. “I found a copy of our local news rag, sir,” he said, holding it out to him.

Mr. Granson took it and unfolded it. He was still studying it when Philip said softly, “I trust it’s the one you were looking for, sir?”

“Yes, yes,” Granson said, folding it up again. “Thank you. I appreciate you finding it for me.”

“Not at all, sir.”

Philip glided away, leaving Cecily feeling extremely foolish. “You’re not deaf,” she said, wishing she were anywhere but in the foyer.

Granson raised his eyebrows. “Deaf? No, I’m not. What made you think I was?”

Confused and embarrassed, she shook her head. “I have no idea. I’m so sorry. It was a stupid mistake. I do hope you are enjoying your stay with us?”

“Yes, thank you. I am.”

She wanted to leave, but it seemed churlish after she had made such an ass of herself. She struggled to find the right thing to say. “You’re from London? What brings you down to our quiet little town for Christmas?”

Granson looked past her as if longing to escape. “I just needed a break from all the celebrating going on in the city. It can be rather overwhelming when one has to spend Christmas alone.”

Feeling sorry for him, she nodded in sympathy. “Oh, you have no family?”

“No.”

That was a bit abrupt. She tried again. “So what do you do in London, Mr. Granson?”

He stared at her, as if not understanding the question. For a brief instant she wondered if he really was deaf and was just trying not to let her know that, but then he answered, “I’m a shoe salesman.”

She pounced on that immediately. “Oh my, I just adore shoes. Especially those new-fashioned ones with the skinny heels. Though I’d never be able to balance on them. I’m afraid I’m stuck with the Louis heels, which have served me well enough.” She smiled up at him. “I suppose you sell a lot of those new heels in London. I can’t think what they call them. Spindle, or something like that?”

She waited, expecting him to give her the answer, but instead he threw a desperate glance at the grandfather clock in the corner. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Baxter, but I have an urgent appointment I simply must keep. Perhaps later?”

“Of course.” Frowning, she watched him rush to the front door and disappear through it, almost crashing into the gentleman who had just entered.

The young man approached her, doffing his cap. “Mrs. Baxter? I’m Bernard Bingham, the plumber, though everyone calls me Bernie. I heard you were looking for me?”

Cecily studied the man in front of her. She could tell at once, by the gleam in his eye, that he wasn’t one to stand on ceremony.

She wasn’t wrong. He gave her an audacious wink, murmuring, “It’s always a pleasure when a charming lady such as yourself seeks my company.”

Deciding not to respond to that, Cecily said crisply, “I hear that the upstairs lavatories are still out of order. Is there a problem I should know about?”

Bernie’s expression turned wary. “Problem? Other than the tanks not filling with water, you mean?”

“I mean, it seems to be taking an inordinate amount of time to get them working again. I was wondering if you needed some extra help.”

His face cleared. “Oh no, Mrs. Baxter, thank you. It’s just that upstairs plumbing can be tricky. The water has to flow upwards, you see, and that’s not natural for water, is it. I’m sorry it’s taking so long, but I still have to find exactly where the problem is to take care of it. Most likely a leak somewhere, I’d say. If that’s so, we have to be really careful we don’t aggravate things, so to speak, or we could end up with a flood somewhere, and I’m sure you won’t want that.”

“No, of course not. I—” Cecily paused as Bernie’s cheerful expression turned sour. He was staring at something behind her, and she turned her head just in time to see Jacob Pinstone disappearing down the kitchen steps.

“What’s
he
doing here?”

Surprised by the disgust in the plumber’s voice, she said mildly, “Jacob is my janitor. Do you know him?”

“I know of him.” Bernie shoved his hands in his pockets. “I heard he got chucked out of the navy. Killed someone in a knife fight. I’d be careful around that one, if I were you.”

Shocked, Cecily struggled to control her voice. “I’ll take that into account, Mr. Bingham. Now, about the lavatories. I trust you will do your best to correct the problem with as much speed as possible.”

Bernie gave her another wink. “You can bet your dainty boots on that, Mrs. Baxter. And may I say it’s a great pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard some very nice things about you from the downstairs crew. You’re quite a lady.”

Unsure whether she should be flattered by the praise or offended by the familiarity of a repairman, Cecily murmured her thanks and hurried off. As she turned the bend of the stairs, she glanced back. The plumber was standing where she’d left him, watching her.

She shook off her uneasiness as she climbed the rest of the stairs. All she could hope was that the plumber finished the job by the end of the day. Something about that man put her teeth on edge. As for Jacob, just as soon as Christmas was over, she’d start looking for a new janitor.

• • •

“Gertie hates coming down here,” Pansy said, unlocking the door to the wine cellar.

Lilly eyed the darkened steps and shuddered. “It does look blinking creepy down there.”

Pansy handed her the wine basket and reached for the oil lamp that hung on the wall. “It’s not too bad once you get down there. It smells a bit, and it’s cold and damp, but it only takes a few minutes to find the wine and then you’re out of there.”

“Why does Gertie hate it so much, then?”

Pansy started leading the way down the narrow steps. The lamp swung in her hand, and the women’s long, skinny shadows danced down the walls ahead of them. “She was caught down here once by a murderer, and almost got killed. Ever since then she’s hated it down here.”

“I don’t blame her.” Lilly’s shaky voice sounded right behind Pansy.

Reaching the cellar floor, Pansy raised the lamp so that Lilly could see the long racks of wine. “You have to read the list that Mrs. Chubb gave you and find the bottles she wants. They’re grouped together by the vineyards, which are in alphabetical order, so they’re not too hard to find. After a while you’ll remember where most of them are on the shelves.”

Lilly shivered and rubbed her upper arms. “It smells like cat’s piss down here.”

“I know.” Pansy held the list up to the lamp. “It smelled a lot worse before Madam had the wall built.”

Lilly looked around. “What wall?”

Pansy nodded at the far end of the cellar. “That wall. There used to be a passageway there, leading to the card rooms.” She started down one of the aisles, searching for the bottle of burgundy that was first on the list.

Lilly followed, keeping as close as she could without actually running into her. “Card rooms? But I thought the card rooms were upstairs, next to the library.”

“They’re the ones they use now. Before the Pennyfoot was a country club, it was a hotel, and gambling’s not allowed in hotels. So the toffs used to come down here and play in secret card rooms where no one could see them and the bobbies never knew anything about it.”

“The toffs came down here?” Lilly said, sounding incredulous.

“Well, they didn’t come down this way. There was a trapdoor leading down from the hallway outside the ballroom, and they’d go down that way. When Madam took over the country club, she had the trapdoor boarded up and a new floor put in. But you could still get to the secret card rooms from the cellar.”

“So she put the wall up here, too?”

“Well, this summer I saw some big rats running about down here. Scared me half to death. When Madam heard how frightened I was, she sent Clive down here to get rid of the rats and put a wall up so no more could come in from the passageways.”

“Clive?”

“He was our handyman before Jacob. He owns a toy shop in the High Street now, and that’s why Madam hired Jacob.” Pansy sighed. “I really miss Clive. He was so nice and friendly. Not at all like Jacob.”

Lilly stared at the wall. “The toffs must have been really fond of gambling if they came down a trapdoor to play.”

Pansy pounced on the bottle of burgundy and laid it in Lilly’s basket. “Yeah, well, that’s not the only trapdoor. There’s another one in one of the secret card rooms that leads down to a tunnel underneath here.”

Lilly’s eyes widened. “Tunnel?”

“It leads all the way out to the ocean. The Pennyfoot used to be the country home of the Earl of Saltchester, and everyone thought he’d had the tunnel built so his family could get to the private beach without anyone seeing them in their bathing clothes. Then a while ago someone wrote in the newspaper that it was really smugglers what built it. They used the tunnel to store contraband they brought in from France.”

“Go on!” Pansy looked up to see Lilly’s gaze fixed on her face, her eyes wide with excitement. “All that was going on underneath the Pennyfoot and nobody knew about it?”

“Well, it wasn’t the Pennyfoot then, was it.” Pansy took the list from Lilly and studied it. “Here, you go and get the bottle of Chianti. It’s got its own little basket so you should find it without any trouble.”

Lilly glanced at the list, then at the dark shadowy aisles. “I’ll need the lamp.”

“I’ll put it up here.” Pansy stood the lamp on a high shelf. “You should be able to see down there.”

Lilly moved off reluctantly, and Pansy turned back to the racks, looking for the bottle of Riesling next on the list. Moments later she heard a yelp, followed by a crash, then Lilly’s wail echoed throughout the cellar.

Grabbing the lamp, Pansy headed down the aisle. As she reached the far end she saw Lilly sitting on the ground, holding her ankle, and wailing like a hungry baby. Beside her lay shattered glass and a spreading pool of dark red liquid.