“Don’t look so glum, my dear Mrs. Shackleton. Your friend probably doesn’t understand English law. Only a very few of us do. You did the correct thing in communicating the facts as you knew them. The family had a right to know what happened to their loved one. And I’m sure that the French Embassy played a part behind the scenes. Without your information finding its way into the right hands, Stephen Walmsley would not have been freed.”

Chapter 61

Chapter Sixty-One

My taxi stopped outside The Savoy. The taxi driver ceased to be helpful after he deposited my case on the pavement, taking my tip and saying he had to keep moving or he’d hold up the traffic.

The commissionaire came across to take my luggage. As he held the side door open for me, I froze to the spot. Coming out of the hotel through the revolving door was Gertrude. For a split second, an invisible thread held us in each other’s gaze as the revolving door continued its movement and Eliot appeared.

The commissionaire waited patiently for me to move.

Eliot paused, tilting his head. “Well, well. Fancy meeting you. If you are here for our first meeting, you’ve missed it. Sit in on the repeat performance in an hour. Meeting room on the first floor, sign on the door.” He nodded at his own magnanimity. “Excuse me. Breath of fresh air.”

Gertrude had taken a few steps and was waiting for him. They turned back and looked at me. I held my ground and stared back, watching as they walked off arm in arm.

A porter took my suitcase from the commissionaire.

It took an effort to sign the register. Mrs. Sugden was right. This was madness. Only the thought of meeting Annette Kerner kept me here. It sickened me to think of Gertrude and Eliot walking free, prospering, sure of themselves, and untouchable.

But I would not let them make me change my plans. They wouldn’t dare try anything here.

One look at my arm in a sling and the porter pressed for the lift. We stopped at the first floor. The room opposite the lift had a sign on the door.

BROCK-DELL INVESTMENTS

BLUEBELL MINE

So I was not only in the same hotel. Fate led me to the very floor on which they would make their glib presentation of the prospects and profits to come from the Bluebell Mine.

I did not need to attempt unpacking. Good as his word, the manager had arranged for a member of staff to come and do that for me.

I went back downstairs to wait for Annette.

She beamed with pleasure at having got me here at last, as she put it. Our waiter opened the champagne and poured. We toasted female detectives.

“Even with broken limbs, we triumph!” She raised her glass again.

“You don’t have a broken limb.”