Page 18 of Murder on the Brighton Express
Time to change the subject. To make it appear that I was making casual conversation and not fishing for her opinion on her future with Victor, I picked up a piece of cold toast and pretended to give it a thorough inspection. “What do you think about women continuing to work after marriage, by choice, not necessity? Is it possible to do both or would the effort of keeping house while working be too much?” I nibbled a corner of the toast.
She lowered her cup so quickly a little liquid spilled over the rim. “Are you considering marrying him?”
I choked on a crumb. “I hardly know Monty!”
“Not him, Harry. Did he ask you? When? How? Did he get down on one knee?”
I put the toast back on the plate and dusted off my fingers. “Harry hasn’t asked me, nor will he. He knows my views on marriage. I was specifically asking aboutyourviews.” I waited, but she sat back with a disappointed look on her face.
“Speaking of Harry?—”
“We weren’t,” I said.
“Are you going to ask him to help you with this case?”
I sighed. It seemed we both had topics we wished to avoid. “I have no reason to involve him. Besides, he’s busy with his own case.”
“Ah, yes, the reason he’s camped out in the foyer.” She lifted her cup again and peered at me through eyes sparkling with mischief. “The maids were all aflutter with the news that he was back. They hope he’s on the verge of returning to work here. He has been missed.”
If she was trying to make me jealous, it wasn’t going to work. I already knew some of the maids placed Harry on a pedestal.
“Mrs. Hessing told Mr. Bainbridge she hired Harry to keep an eye out for a gossip columnist,” Harmony went on. “He informed Sir Ronald.”
That explained why my uncle hadn’t thrown Harry out when he saw him in the foyer yesterday. “He’s watching for anyone matching her description arriving at the check-in counter. Apparently, she should have checked in yesterday.”
“You could find out if he’s still in the foyer when you leave the hotel.”
“I don’t want to talk to him.”
“Yes, you do.”
I sniffed. “His case is none of my business. I have no reason to speak to him. If I do, he’ll get the wrong idea.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” she muttered into her coffee cup.
Harry wasin the foyer again. I did not approach him. I barely even looked at him. Not properly, anyway, merely out of the corner of my eye as he approached.
He cut me off before I reached the door. “Are you hurrying in order to avoid me?”
“I’m hurrying because I have things to do.”
He lowered his voice. “I heard you found a body yesterday. Nasty business.” I liked that he didn’t comment on my feminine sensibilities being overwhelmed by the sight. He knew I could cope with it more than most.
“News travels fast,” I said.
“One of my father’s former colleagues told him last night when they met for a drink. They meet regularly to discuss cases, both old and new. My father enjoys it, and my mother likes getting him out of the house.”
“Most retired men take up fishing or bird-watching.”
“He tried fishing once. His line got tangled and he came home grumpier than when he left.”
I tried picturing D.I. Hobart relaxing, but couldn’t. It didn’t suit the hearty man whose life had revolved around his work. If he hadn’t been forced out by the commissioner, he’d still be there. His departure was a loss for Scotland Yard. He would have been an ally for me now, too, although it seemed I’d made a name for myself if he’d been informed that I discovered Ruth’s body.
“Was it Monty who mentioned my involvement?” I asked.
Harry shook his head. “Another sergeant. He doesn’t know you, but he told my father that an annoying female private investigator suggested the woman was murdered, when it was clearly suicide. Based on a description like that, my father knew it was you.”
I shot him a withering glare. “Very droll. Your father doesn’t find me annoying at all. He likes me.”
