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

them out in the yard, m’m. She said she’d ask you what to do with them later.”
    “Very well. I want you to put everything in the coal shed for now, out of the rain. I’ll see to them later.”
    “Yes, m’m.” Pansy curtsied and backed up to the door. “Will that be all, m’m?”
    “Yes, Pansy. Thank you.” Cecily waved her off and stared at the telephone. With any luck Kevin would have gone straight back to his surgery. She might be able to talk to him within the hour. Right now, she needed to think.
    Apparently the Christmas pudding was not the culprit in the death of Archibald Armitage. Therefore it could be that the housekeeper was not directly to blame for his death, after all. Perhaps the gentleman had been ingesting the poison for some time before he came to the Pennyfoot, as Kevin had suggested. That was quite a relief, though she would feel a great deal better if she could be certain of that. All she could do was wait for Kevin to examine the contents of Mr. Armitage’s room and hope fervently that the good doctor could give her some answers.
    *   *   *
    “Not the Christmas pudding?” Standing at the kitchen sink, Gertie stared at Pansy. “Are you sure?”
    Pansy nodded. “I brought down the pudding myself. It’s in a pillowcase in the coal shed, along with everything else. Except Mr. Armitage’s clothes and things. Mrs. Tucker said as how to leave them there.”
    Gertie felt a stab of disappointment. She’d had high hopes that the housekeeper would be found guilty of murder and sent to prison, thus freeing them all from the woman’s bad temper and allowing them to enjoy the Christmas season.
    Reluctant to give up the idea, she murmured, “Well, the old bat could still have poisoned him with something else.”
    “Well, I don’t know what. He ate what everyone else ate.”
    “We don’t know that.” Hearing the squeak of the kitchen door, she hastily grabbed a platter and started drying it. Lowering her voice, she muttered, “Maybe Tucker the Terrible sent him up something else to eat.”
    “Well, if she did and he ate it, we’ll never know, will we.”
    Gertie pursed her lips. “Maybe we can trick her into admitting she did it.”
    “How are we going to do that?”
    Gertie shrugged. “I dunno. But I’ll think of something.”
    “You two stop nattering and get on with those dishes!” The housekeeper’s strident voice made them both jump.
    Gertie turned around to face her. “We was just talking about the bloke what died,” she said. “What do you think killed him? Could it be something from this kitchen what poisoned him?”
    “Of course not!” The housekeeper jerked her hand, dropping the rolling pin she was holding. It clattered onto the floor, then rolled over to Gertie’s feet.
    She bent over to pick it up and offered it back to Beatrice.
    The housekeeper’s eyes glinted with temper. “Wash that thoroughly and put it back where it belongs. And if I hear any more gossip about Mr. Armitage’s death, I’ll report you both to madam. Is that clear?”
    Gertie rolled her eyes and dumped the rolling pin into the soapy water in the sink. Too bad the old bat hadn’t poisoned the actor. Now they would have to continue to put up with her over Christmas.
    She couldn’t wait for Mrs. Chubb to come back from seeing her daughter. If Tucker the Terrible didn’t shut up screaming at them, Gertie thought fiercely, she might be tempted to put poison in the miserable cow’s tea herself.
    *   *   *
    When Phoebe arrived early that afternoon for the dress rehearsal, Cecily ushered everyone into the ballroom as fast as she could manage. The last thing she wanted was for Phoebe or the members of her dance troupe to find out about the death and start speculating. Word would spread quickly throughout the Pennyfoot and, before she knew it, she’d have guests abandoning Christmas at the club.
    Phoebe seemed surprised and a little put out by Cecily’s haste to get rid of her.