Free The Clue is in the Pudding by Kate Kingsbury Page A

and—”
    Once more Kevin interrupted her. “The amount it would take to kill a person that quickly would not have been there accidentally. Either Armitage had been ingesting arsenic over a period of time and it finally caught up with him, or someone put a heavy dose of the stuff into something he ate. Either way, these are very definitely suspicious circumstances.”
    So there it was. Much as she’d tried to suppress it, ever since she’d first heard of the death, she’d had the feeling that Archibald Armitage had been murdered. Now it was confirmed, and it was possible that her temporary housekeeper had killed him.
    “Is there any way to determine whether or not the dose was administered here in the Pennyfoot?”
    Kevin shrugged. “Not without evidence of the source.”
    “So we have no way of knowing if someone here in the club killed him, or if someone he knew elsewhere had been poisoning him.”
    “Precisely. I’m sorry, Cecily. I’ll ring the constabulary for you. I expect P.C. Northcott will pay you a visit this afternoon.”
    “No doubt.” Cecily sighed. “I’ll make sure no one touches anything in the room until Sam Northcott has looked at it.”
    “Good idea.” Kevin headed for the door. “Though if the poison was in that slice of pudding and the rest of them have been destroyed, I don’t know how the constable is going to prove anything.” He paused and looked back at her. “Be careful, Cecily. It’s possible you have a killer in the Pennyfoot. Again.”
    She smiled wearily at him. “Thank you, Kevin.”
    He gazed at her for a moment longer, then with a sharp nod of his head, disappeared out the door.
    With a heavy heart, Cecily reached for the bellpull and gave it a tug. Another Christmas marred by a violent death. Much as she disliked the temporary housekeeper, she couldn’t bring herself to believe that the woman had actually murdered one of the guests.
    If Armitage had been poisoned here, maybe Mrs. Tucker had simply wanted to make him sick, in retaliation for his rudeness. Though even that seemed somewhat harsh treatment for such a feeble crime. Having been in service for most of her life, Beatrice Tucker should be well used to rudeness and insults from her superiors. No matter what Mr. Armitage had said to her, he surely didn’t deserve such an agonizing end.
    Her thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the door. Pulling herself together, Cecily cleared her brow. “Come in!”
    Pansy tiptoed into the room and bent her knees in a curtsey. “You rang, m’m?”
    “Yes, Pansy. I need you to tell Mrs. Tucker that under no circumstances is anyone to enter Mr. Armitage’s room until I say so.”
    Pansy drew her brows together. “Yes, m’m. I already cleaned it up, though, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    Cecily brushed her fingers across her forehead. “You did what?”
    “I cleaned it up, m’m. It were awful, to tell the truth. I kept heaving all the time I was cleaning.”
    “Did you bring anything out of the room?”
    “Yes, m’m. I did.” She raised her chin and stared at the ceiling, frowning in concentration. “Now let me see. There were newspapers, an empty cigar box, a whiskey bottle and a glass and some books. I left all his clothes and personal things in there, though. Mrs. Tucker said we had to wait and see what you wanted to do about them. Oh, and there was the slice of Christmas pudding that Mrs. Tucker sent up to Mr. Armitage. I s’pose he never had a chance to eat it before he got ill.”
    Cecily raised her eyebrows. “The whole slice?”
    “Yes, m’m. He hadn’t had one bite of it.”
    Thinking hard, Cecily tapped her fingers on her desk. “What did you do with the things you brought out?”
    “Mrs. Tucker told me to put everything into a pillowcase and bring it down to the kitchen. She said the things might be com . . . cotimate . . . contimate—”
    “Contaminated.” Cecily frowned. “What did she do with them?”
    “I think she put