Chapter 12

 

I HAD EXPECTED THE AFTERNOON with Mrs. Pomeroy to take up more of the afternoon. Now I had several hours before tea stretching out in front of me. I’d finished all of my typing so it was a truly free afternoon. I was debating a few choices. The sale at Liberty’s was a possibility, or I could try a few bakeries in search of new cakes to try, or I could—

“So what are your plans for the afternoon?” Mrs. Albright broke into my thoughts.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to the sales with me.”

“Sales? How can you think about sales at a time like this?”

I wanted to say at a time like what, but I could see that she was still concerned. “I don’t see that there’s much I can do right now.”

Mrs. Albright looked around. “But Scotland Yard is just a short ride away. Why don’t you go and talk to that nice inspector, or one of your friends there.”

I sighed. So he was the nice inspector now, was he? It would be easier to go along with her. “All right, I’ll see if there’s anything he’ll tell me.”

“Excellent.” Mrs. Albright followed me to the Underground station.

With Mrs. Albright tagging along, my plan for Scotland Yard was to go into the main lobby and wait in the longest line, then after a decent interval, when Mrs. Albright had gotten bored and gone back home, I’d leave and go to the sales. I was just thinking that, if I found too many things to slip past her, I could always take a page from Miss Carrollton’s book and rent a locker at Paddington Station and leave my parcels there to be picked up later, when I realized Mrs. Albright still had no intention of leaving. “You could go on home. I can manage.”

“Mrs. Pomeroy would feel so much better if she knew what was going on.”

So she was feeling nosy. I hadn’t left myself much of a choice. I waited my turn at one of the brass windows and asked for Inspector Hamilton.

“Do you have an appointment?” asked the woman behind the cage.

“No, but I need some information on the Ainsworth case.”

She scribbled something on a slip of paper and put it into a pneumatic tube. “Wait over there, and I’ll call you if he’ll see you.”

I led Mrs. Albright to the waiting area near the lift with the other people hoping to see someone without having been summoned. The best solution seemed to be for Inspector Hamilton to refuse to see me. If he wasn’t in, then Mrs. Albright would expect me to ask for one of the other inspectors I knew, none of whom would know anything about the Ainsworth case and would only be glad to have me nosing around it if it kept me out of their cases. The one outcome I hadn’t planned for was for the receptionist in the cage to call my name and tell me to proceed to the lift.

Mrs. Albright moved to follow me, but the receptionist kept her hand on the lever that operated the gears for the door. “I’m sorry, ma’am. The note says to send Miss Pengear up, no one else. I have to be strict about it.”

“I understand.” I wasn’t sure Mrs. Albright did, but she patted my arm and said, “Good luck, Cassie. I’ll have tea ready for you when you get back.”

“Thanks.” I waited while the receptionist worked the lever and gears to open the lift doors. The boy operating the lift didn’t need to ask where I was going, just flicked some more levers, slid some gears in place, and released the car.

 

I had briefly considered getting out of the lift, giving Mrs. Albright time to start out on her way home, and then slipping back downstairs without disturbing Inspector Hamilton, but Constable Fulton was waiting for me when the lift doors opened.

“This way please, Miss.” He led me through the maze of hallways and offices and desks to Inspector Hamilton’s closet of an office. “The door is open, Miss. Just go on through.”

Inspector Hamilton was standing behind his desk reading a file while he waited for me. He looked up when he heard the door. “Good afternoon, Miss Pengear.”

He was being quite cordial. “Good afternoon.”

“The note says you have some information for me.”

“I think you read that wrong. I needed some information from you.”

Inspector Hamilton looked at the note. “I thought they got that wrong downstairs.”

There were several files open on Inspector Hamilton’s desk. I let my gaze drift over them, trying not to look like I was reading them. The first one I was able to read was a coroner’s report on Mr. Ainsworth. Half the page was covered, but I was able to read the summary at the top. Poisoning, died sometime between six and eleven on the twelfth. Ate salmon, various vegetables, cheese, and cucumber soup prior to death. Nothing I didn’t already know. I heard Inspector Hamilton make a small sound, almost a snort or a loud exhale, and looked up. He was watching me with a bemused smile.

“Critiquing our medical examiner’s typing skills, I’m sure.”

I smiled back. “Well, it does seem rather vague.”

Inspector Hamilton followed my gaze to the file. “You mean the time of death? The study had a fire built up, so it affected the temperature of the body, and the medical examiner did not want to give a definite time of death. A pity it was such a beastly night, but can’t be helped I suppose. London weather and all.”

“You have Ross to thank for that. He insisted Mr. Carrollton told him to light the fire in there for the arriving guests.”

“The guests were greeted in the study?”

“Of course not. They were in the drawing room.”

“None the less, it did affect the body temperature.”

“But we saw him collapse.”

“Which is why we have a time of death, just not from this report. Now was there something you wanted to see me about, or was this an attempt to look at my files on the case?”

I thought fast. “I found Mrs. Delford’s handkerchief, and I wanted to return it. Could I have her address?” I knew she was staying at Mr. Ainsworth’s, but it seemed to be as good an excuse as any.

“You should know that I can’t give you any information on a witness.”

“Well, thank you for your time.” I picked up my gloves.

Inspector Hamilton smiled. “Did you get what you were after?”

“I wasn’t after anything.” When he kept smiling, I added, “Mrs. Albright asked me to come.” I realized I might need to get in to see him other times, and I didn’t want any chance he would think I wanted him to refuse me then, so I gave the best version of facts that I could. “I was hoping you’d be out so I’d have an excuse not to come up.”

He seemed to believe that mostly true story. At least his smile became less mocking. “Why did she want you to see me?”

“Mr. Ainsworth’s funeral was today. We kept Mrs. Pomeroy company while Mr. Carrollton was gone. Mrs. Pomeroy must have worried Mrs. Albright while they were talking.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea. But the kitchen was an enormous mess.”

The mocking note was back in his smile. “And where were you while they were talking? Trying to get around the crime scene tapes?”

I gave him my sweetest smile. “Finding Mrs. Delford’s handkerchief, of course. That’s not a crime, is it?”

“Which I’ll bet she didn’t know she’d lost. Just remember what I said about investigating. I’d hate to see you hurt or in danger.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What are your plans for the afternoon?”

“Visit the sales, I think.”

“That sounds good. I hope you find some bargains. Good afternoon. Would you like someone to show you to the lift?”

“I can manage. Good afternoon.”

 

Back on the street, I considered actually going to the sales, but I had spent so much time in Inspector Hamilton’s office, I wouldn’t have time for a proper look before the shops were crowded with secretaries and teachers on their way home. Besides, poking around Inspector Hamilton’s desk had given me the taste for investigating. There had to be something I could look into.

Briefly I considered speaking to Mrs. Delford, but she would have been at the funeral too, and been even more affected by it than Mrs. Pomeroy. So who else?

Mr. Sharma. He’d told Inspector Hamilton he was staying at the Prescott Guest House near Westminster. It should be easy enough to find. I went to a nearby bookshop and found a copy of the London Post Office Directory and looked up the hotel.