and his graying dark hair had thinned considerably above his brow.
He sat with an expectant look on his face, and she indulged him by passing the envelope across the desk. “I think, Mr. Docker, that you will find this pays for all the repairs in full.”
“Thank you, m’m.” He reached for it, and without opening it, stuffed it into the breast pocket of his coat. “I trust you found everything satisfactory?”
The roofer’s thick Irish accent confused her, and it took her a moment to realize what he’d said. “Well, I haven’t observed the repairs myself, but I’m sure everything is in order. We shall soon find out with the next fall of rain, no doubt.”
He uttered an irked laugh. “I can assure you, m’m, there will be no more leaks from that part of the roof, at least.”
She felt a pang of dismay. “Oh? Are you saying the rest of the roof is in need of repair?”
“Not at this very moment, no.” He leaned back with a smug expression that did not sit well with her. “But if I were you, I’d look into replacing a few more tiles before too long, or you’re likely to have some damp patches in your ceilings.”
Cecily made a mental note to send Samuel up to examine the roof before she ordered any more repairs from this man. There was something about his attitude that she didn’t quite trust. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t mentioned the death of her footman. She found that callous in the extreme.
He was about to rise when she stopped him with a quick raise of her hand. “Just a moment, Mr. Docker. I’d like to ask you about the gargoyle that struck and killed one of my trusted employees this morning.”
The roofer’s face was instantly devoid of expression. He sat down again as if lowering himself on a prickly bed of nettles. “Yes, m’m. Please accept my sincere regrets. A very unfortunate accident, indeed.”
“Indeed.” She folded her hands in front of her and leaned forward. “I don’t suppose you have any idea how that gargoyle happened to slip off the roof just as my footman was passing below?”
A muscle started twitching at the roofer’s cheekbone, and his blue eyes grew wary. “I haven’t the slightest idea, m’m. I secured it myself, I did. I just can’t understand how it got loose.”
“How did you secure it?”
“I tied it down with rope around the chimney stack, and wedged bricks on either side of it. Then we covered it with a tarpaulin.” He shook his head, as if in bewilderment. “Can’t understand that, at all.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Tell me, did you happen to see the spot where the young man was killed?”
“No, m’m, I didn’t. First I heard about it was when the constable asked me about the gargoyle this morning. I never did see the body.”
“Well, thank you, Mr. Docker. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”
He looked worried about that for a moment, then his brow cleared. “Oh, right. For the rest of the repairs. Just let me know when you need me, Mrs. Baxter. I’ll do a good job for you. That’s a promise.”
She simply nodded, and didn’t bother to get up as he let himself out the door. Her mind was focused on what he’d told her. The roofer said he’d tied down the gargoyle to the chimney stack, which was several feet farther along the roof than the spot where Charlie had died.
Had the gargoyle simply slipped down from its moorings, it would have easily missed him. There seemed no doubt now that either Mick Docker had lied or someone had untied the masonry, carried it over to the edge of the roof, and waited for Charlie to pass by below.
If so, all she had to do was find out who had wanted her footman dead, and why.
Pansy hummed to herself as she carried the vase of fresh flowers along the hallway to the ballroom. Madeline Prestwick had ordered them especially, to stand on the grand piano at the ball that evening. Beautiful they were, all different colors and shapes and sizes.
Pansy didn’t know
He sat with an expectant look on his face, and she indulged him by passing the envelope across the desk. “I think, Mr. Docker, that you will find this pays for all the repairs in full.”
“Thank you, m’m.” He reached for it, and without opening it, stuffed it into the breast pocket of his coat. “I trust you found everything satisfactory?”
The roofer’s thick Irish accent confused her, and it took her a moment to realize what he’d said. “Well, I haven’t observed the repairs myself, but I’m sure everything is in order. We shall soon find out with the next fall of rain, no doubt.”
He uttered an irked laugh. “I can assure you, m’m, there will be no more leaks from that part of the roof, at least.”
She felt a pang of dismay. “Oh? Are you saying the rest of the roof is in need of repair?”
“Not at this very moment, no.” He leaned back with a smug expression that did not sit well with her. “But if I were you, I’d look into replacing a few more tiles before too long, or you’re likely to have some damp patches in your ceilings.”
Cecily made a mental note to send Samuel up to examine the roof before she ordered any more repairs from this man. There was something about his attitude that she didn’t quite trust. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t mentioned the death of her footman. She found that callous in the extreme.
He was about to rise when she stopped him with a quick raise of her hand. “Just a moment, Mr. Docker. I’d like to ask you about the gargoyle that struck and killed one of my trusted employees this morning.”
The roofer’s face was instantly devoid of expression. He sat down again as if lowering himself on a prickly bed of nettles. “Yes, m’m. Please accept my sincere regrets. A very unfortunate accident, indeed.”
“Indeed.” She folded her hands in front of her and leaned forward. “I don’t suppose you have any idea how that gargoyle happened to slip off the roof just as my footman was passing below?”
A muscle started twitching at the roofer’s cheekbone, and his blue eyes grew wary. “I haven’t the slightest idea, m’m. I secured it myself, I did. I just can’t understand how it got loose.”
“How did you secure it?”
“I tied it down with rope around the chimney stack, and wedged bricks on either side of it. Then we covered it with a tarpaulin.” He shook his head, as if in bewilderment. “Can’t understand that, at all.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Tell me, did you happen to see the spot where the young man was killed?”
“No, m’m, I didn’t. First I heard about it was when the constable asked me about the gargoyle this morning. I never did see the body.”
“Well, thank you, Mr. Docker. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”
He looked worried about that for a moment, then his brow cleared. “Oh, right. For the rest of the repairs. Just let me know when you need me, Mrs. Baxter. I’ll do a good job for you. That’s a promise.”
She simply nodded, and didn’t bother to get up as he let himself out the door. Her mind was focused on what he’d told her. The roofer said he’d tied down the gargoyle to the chimney stack, which was several feet farther along the roof than the spot where Charlie had died.
Had the gargoyle simply slipped down from its moorings, it would have easily missed him. There seemed no doubt now that either Mick Docker had lied or someone had untied the masonry, carried it over to the edge of the roof, and waited for Charlie to pass by below.
If so, all she had to do was find out who had wanted her footman dead, and why.
Pansy hummed to herself as she carried the vase of fresh flowers along the hallway to the ballroom. Madeline Prestwick had ordered them especially, to stand on the grand piano at the ball that evening. Beautiful they were, all different colors and shapes and sizes.
Pansy didn’t know
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