Page 27 of Solving Sophronia

Mr. Smudgely crossed to a cabinet and slid open a drawer. “I’m afraid I do not know every employee by name,” he said, fingering through the files. “Our full staff consists of more than one hundred, you see. Though, how many are present at one time varies depending on the needs of the particular event.” He slid out a file. “George Lewis. Here we are.”

“Was Mr. Lewis working Monday evening?” Jonathan asked.

Mr. Smudgely sat back at his desk. He opened the file and ran his finger down one of the pages inside. “He was.”

“At what time would he have arrived?” Jonathan watched the man closely.

“Three p.m. at the very latest.” Mr. Smudgely closed the file and handed it across the desk to Jonathan. “I have no patience for tardiness. The event that evening required quite a lot of preparation—arranging furniture, hauling displays, that sort of thing—and footmen, of course, did the brunt of it.”

Jonathan copied down the address of Mr. Lewis’s boardinghouse, but aside from the report of the man’s fistfight, he saw nothing else of interest in the folder. He started to hand it back to Mr. Smudgely but stopped and offered it to Miss Bremerton instead. “May I also see the file of a Nick Sloan?”

“Certainly.” Mr. Smudgely returned to the cabinet. “And I can personally attest to Mr. Sloan’s presence Monday night. He is the stable manager’s assistant and tended to my carriage himself when I arrived.”

Jonathan accepted Nick Sloan’s file, looked through it, and wrote down the man’s address. “Is he here today?” He handed the file to Miss Bremerton.

The young lady paused writing in her notebook to take it from him.

“No, only the stablemaster, Mr. Parker.”

As Miss Bremerton read through the files, Jonathan studied Mr. Smudgely. The man was twitchy and nervous, but the temperament appeared to be his natural disposition, not a result of any guilt.

“Thank you.” Miss Bremerton returned the files to Mr. Smudgely’s desk.

The man immediately reached forward and straightened them, squaring the edges with the desktop’s corner. “Shall I show you the assembly rooms?” Mr. Smudgely asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Jonathan said. “And one more thing, sir, if you don’t mind. May I have a list of your employees, their addresses, and a report of which were working Monday evening?”

The man nodded. “Of course.” He straightened a row of fountain pens with his fingertips. “As I said, the list is extensive. My secretary will be able to provide the most accurate account.”

Mr. Smudgely spoke for a moment to the woman sitting at a desk in the outer room of his office and then led the pair of investigators back to the main lobby.

Jonathan had never had occasion to visit the Bellacourt Assembly Hall, and he tried not to gawk at the enormous globe chandelier suspended over the entryway. Thick oriental-style rugs covered dark wooden floors, and the same dark wood was used in carved panels on the walls. Leading from the lobby were sets of doors that opened into different entertaining areas. Directly across from the main entrance, in a place of honor, were large double doors, one of which was open, revealing a grand ballroom beyond.

A maid in her white apron and cap was dusting a table in the entrance hall. When she saw them, she curtsied and withdrew into another room.

Jonathan glanced at Miss Bremerton and saw she was again writing in her notebook.

Mr. Smudgely stepped to the left and opened the doors on that side of the lobby. “Here is our dining room.”

Tables and chairs were pushed to the walls, and maids were sweeping the floors. At the far end of the room, more doors led to what Jonathan assumed was the kitchen area.

“The arrangement for Monday evening’s event was rather a casual one, as you see,” Mr. Smudgely continued. “We do have the option of one long table in this room that seats as many as fifty.”

“What exactly was Monday evening’s event?” Miss Bremerton asked.

“Oh, you would hardly be interested, miss.” Mr. Smudgely gave a dismissive smile and directed his attention to Jonathan. “William Charles Baldwin, a big-game hunter, presented a lecture on his recent safari to the dark continent. It was fascinating.” Mr. Smudgely gave what appeared to be a shiver of excitement.

“Oh,” Miss Bremerton said. “I believe I did hear about the event.”

Mr. Smudgely smiled again as if he were indulging her fancy and gave Jonathan a knowing look. If he only knew who she was, Jonathan imagined the assembly hall’s manager would be falling over himself with flattery instead of rudely dismissing her.

He glanced at Miss Bremerton, but she did not appear to be offended by the man’s condescension. She watched him with a flat stare, and Jonathan wondered if she was accustomed to her questions being disregarded. The idea gave him a twinge of guilt, and inside he cringed. He’d been guilty of the same.

“Mr. Baldwin brought an elephant’s skull and tusks of ivory and the most amazing photographs,” Mr. Smudgely continued. “The presentation was in the drawing room, through here.” He led them into another room that was arranged with a stage at one end and rows of chairs for an audience facing it. “This space serves very well as a lecture hall, you see.” He gave Miss Bremerton another patronizing smile before returning his attention to Jonathan, as though he were expecting some sort of praise.

They both ignored him, and Miss Bremerton spoke directly to Jonathan. “My father mentioned it. I believe he may have been here.”

“It was very well attended by exceptionally prominent people.” Mr. Smudgely put a finger in front of his mouth and leaned closer to Jonathan, facing away from Miss Bremerton. “I really should not say, but there was a member of the royal family in attendance.” He glanced around as if he might be overheard. “Prince Alfred,” he whispered.

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