Mistletoe and Mayhem by Kingsbury Kate

Author:Kingsbury, Kate [Kingsbury, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Penguin Group, Inc.
Published: 2010-11-01T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

“It’s the Mayfair Murderer, I just know it.” Gertie stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands on hips, feet spread apart. “I told you it was him that killed Charlie and now Ellie. Who’s blinking next, I wonder?”

“You, I hope,” Michel snapped, dropping a saucepan lid on the floor with a loud crash. “How can I make my soufflés rise with all this racket going on? All that screeching is making them flat. I do not cook soufflés until you shut up, comprenez‑vous?”

“Oh, put a bloody sock in it, Michel.” Gertie turned back to Mrs. Chubb, who was beating eggs in a basin so rapidly, froth was flying over the edge of the bowl. “We’re not safe in our beds, that’s what. I was worrying about my twins being in London with that maniac on the loose and now I have to worry about them coming home to him.”

“It is not the serial killer!” Michel shouted. “You are a stupid woman to frighten everyone. He kills only the young girls, oui? Why would a serial killer come here to kill a footman and a maid? It makes no sense.” He glared at the housekeeper. “Stop beating my eggs to their death, s’il vous plaît! There will be nothing left of them to put in my soufflés.”

Mrs. Chubb put down the bowl. “Some of the maids think the man in room nine is the Mayfair Murderer.”

Michel snorted, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Pansy is ze idiot as well.”

Gertie glared at him. “She’s not an idiot. She could very well be right about that man. He’s really strange.”

“There are many strange people who come to the Pennyfoot. They are not serial killers.”

“People don’t usually come here alone, stay in their rooms all day, and cover their faces with a hat.”

“He is rather unsociable,” Mrs. Chubb put in. “I passed him in the corridor and wished him good morning. He just grunted at me.”

“Was he wearing that big hat?” Gertie demanded.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, he was.”

Gertie swung around to give Michel a triumphant wave of her hand. “See? I told you!”

“Wearing a big hat does not make him a serial killer.” Michel bent over to pick up the saucepan lid. “Now give me the eggs and be quiet, both of you. I need complete silence for my soufflés.”

“You’d better go and help Pansy with the tables,” Mrs. Chubb said, glancing at the clock. “It’s almost time to ring the dinner bell.”

Gertie needed no second bidding. There were times when she’d like to sock Michel in the jaw. Him and his fake French accent. Give him a bottle of brandy and that accent disappeared fast enough. Telling her to keep quiet, the saucy blighter. He made more noise than anyone when he was in a bad mood. Which was pretty much all the time.

She stomped up the stairs and across the lobby, her mind churning over the news that Ellie’s dead body had been found. Pansy had cried when she’d told her.

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