Page 51 of The Mystery Guest

“But why would she poison her idol?” I ask.

“Because she’s angry,” Beulah offers. “With him and with me. Killing J.D. punishes us both.” Beulah leans into me conspiratorially, lowering her voice. “Lately, I’d been getting closer to Mr. Grimthorpe, uncovering research Birdy knows nothing about. He and I had discussed me becoming his official biographer. She was not happy about that. She’s always wanted to be more than his number-one fan. Let’s just say she was green with envy when I told her I beat her to the punch.”

“And as mentioned,” Gladys adds, “Birdy has always had a penchant forPoison & Punishment—the novel, I mean.”

“It’s her favorite book by J. D. Grimthorpe because the villaingets what’s coming to him via a tainted drink. I doubt that’s a coincidence,” says Beulah.

“Beulah and I discussed all of this last night,” Gladys adds, “and while it’s hard to imagine Birdy stooping to such a low, we decided it would be prudent to mention her backstory to someone official. You know, just in case.”

“I’m not official,” I say. “Unless you mean in my capacity as Head Maid.”

“Of course,” Gladys says loudly. “We understand.”

Beulah grabs my arm. “You’ll investigate this, right?” she whispers.

“I’ll do no such thing,” I say. “Speak to the authorities. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be off. Hotel rooms don’t clean themselves.”

“Especially Beulah’s,” Gladys says. “Her hotel room looks like a pack rat moved in.”

“It’s not that bad,” Beulah replies as she brushes the shoulders of her sweater, sending a raft of fresh cat fur into the air.

I turn on my heel and leave without so much as another word. It must be said: I’m relieved the moment I’m out of their sight. Everything about these women sets my teeth on edge.

I rush downstairs to the housekeeping quarters, where I change into my uniform, placing my Head Maid pin in its proper position, right above my heart. Lily has already arrived. Her shoes are lined up neatly in front of her locker.

Once uniformed, I check myself one last time in the mirror, then head to the second floor. The elevator doors open, and I spot Lily’s trolley at the end of the hall, but when I look the other way, Cheryl is exiting a room, her fleshy hand full of small bills.

No. Not again. It’s the second time in less than twenty-four hours that I’ve caught a thief red-handed, in flagrante delicto.Cheryl is up to her old tricks. She’s filching tips from rooms she doesn’t even clean, tips meant for Lily and me.

“Cheryl!” I say, or rather shout, because I’m hot as a steaming kettle. I march down the hallway and stop in front of her. “How dare you?” I say. “Stealing tips from other maids. You’ll recall that it’s expressly forbidden to interfere with remuneration intended for other staff members. Do you realize that’s cause for dismissal?”

“Whoa, Molly!” Cheryl says, her hands raised. “No need to get so worked up. As I told Lily earlier, I thought it would be a good idea for all of us maids to pool our tips and then divide them evenly. You know, like you always say—‘fair and square, the maids all share’?”

“That statement refers to the workload,” I say. “You have misconstrued my meaning.”

Lily’s head pops out of a room. The dark circles under her eyes are so pronounced she resembles a raccoon.

“You tell her, Lily,” Cheryl says. “We agreed to pool tips, right?”

Lily is about to say something, but the words catch in her mouth. “I…guess?” she manages, then she shakes her head and goes quiet.

This does a grand total of nothing to placate me. Rather, it makes me want to submerge Cheryl’s greedy paws in a bucketful of concentrated lye, but instead I force a smile and say, “Iam Head Maid. It is up tometo decide how tips are doled out amongst maids. And for the record, I’ve had enough of dirty thieves for one day.”

“Dirty thieves?” Cheryl repeats, punctuating this with a snort. “That’s a very nasty name you just called me. Who’s breaking her own rule book now? I wonder what Mr. Snow would have to say if I decided to report you, Molly? I’ve gotta go,” Cheryl says. “Be sure to shout out if either of you see an axe-wielding murderer behind a hotel room door. Or better yet, don’t shout. Just. Stay. Quiet,” she says as she eyes Lily. Then she clomps off down the hallway.

Once she’s gone, Lily emerges from the room she was cleaning and stands in front me, her eyes downturned and watery.

“Did you really agree to pool tips with her?” I ask.

Lily’s not talking. She’s not even moving.

“Will there ever be an end to this silent treatment?” I ask. “I know this place is upside down right now and it’s quite frightening, but everything will right itself. Things will be okay in the end.”

Lily’s face remains impassive—a mask of worry and concern. “This hotel?” she whispers. “It’s dirtier than I ever realized. I don’t know what to do.”

“There’s only one thing to do in the presence of dirt, Lily. And that’s clean it.”

Lily stares at me for a moment, then she slips behind her trolley and disappears down the hall.

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