6 Grounds for Murder Read Online Free Page B

life shecouldn’t imagine existing without him. And right now she needed him rather badly.
    She found him bent over his desk, studying a sheet of figures with a frown that boded unpleasant news.
    The minute she entered the office, Baxter straightened. Scrambling to his feet, he reached for his jacket and thrust his arms into the sleeves. “I do wish you would forewarn me of your visits,” he said, scowling at her, “and allow me to prepare.”
    Knowing that his discomfort was due to the fact that she had caught him without his jacket, Cecily merely smiled. Baxter insisted on the proper rules of propriety. He chose to ignore the relaxed rules of etiquette that had been in evidence since Edward had inherited the throne from Queen Victoria seven years earlier.
    His attitude could not be changed, no matter how much Cecily tried. He abhorred the work of the suffragettes, viewed the rapid changes taking place in society with suspicion and even alarm, and was horrified when Cecily showed signs of subscribing to the New Women’s Movement.
    Which was why Cecily took the greatest delight in baiting him. She leaned over the desk and peered up into his face. “Baxter, I am in dire need of one of those delightful little cigars you always carry with you. Would you please be so kind as to offer me one?”
    “You know perfectly well, madam, how I feel about you indulging in such a disgraceful habit.”
    “Yes, I do, Baxter. And you know perfectly well that I shall insist on smoking, no matter how much you disapprove. Now, will you please light one up for me, or do I have to ask Samuel to purchase a package for me from the George and Dragon?”
    Sighing, Baxter withdrew the slim package from his pocket and offered it to her.
    She remained leaning forward until he had struck a match and held it to the end of the cigar, while she drew hard enough to start a glow.
    “Thank you.” Seating herself in a chair at the side of his desk, she let out a long sigh and watched the smoke curl up in front of her. “You have nice hands, Baxter.”
    “Madam?” He sounded shocked, looking down at her with both eyebrows arched.
    She met his gaze steadily. “Do sit down, Baxter, please. I get a crick in my neck looking up at you like this.”
    “I prefer to stand, madam.”
    Grimacing, she repeated, “I said, you have nice hands.”
    “That’s what I thought you said, madam.”
    “Not like that insufferable oaf, Ellsworth Galloway.”
    There was a slight pause, then Baxter said cautiously, “The gentleman upset you, madam?”
    “That idiot is no gentleman.” Cecily drew hard on the cigar, then puffed out the smoke. “Do you know that the back of his hands sprout almost as much hair as his chin?”
    Baxter coughed. “I can’t say that I’ve noticed, madam.”
    “Then you’ll have to accept my word for it.” She leaned over and tapped the ash from the end of her cigar into the ashtray on Baxter’s desk. “We have been discussing the murder, Baxter.”
    “Yes, madam.”
    “It would seem that no one is at all upset by the death of a young girl. All that matters to them is that the girl was a gypsy, therefore of no account.”
    Baxter cleared his throat. “I trust, madam, that since this unfortunate act has nothing to do with the hotel, that madam will refrain from involving herself in the situation?”
    Cecily raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Why,Baxter, you know very well I do not concern myself with something that is none of my business.”
    He chose not to answer, but looked at her with such skepticism she felt like laughing. Instead she sat back in her chair, contemplated the smoldering end of her cigar, and said softly, “I would very much like to know, however, why the murderer felt it necessary to bury the head and not the body.”
    Baxter’s groan seemed to echo around the room. “I do wonder why that simple remark strikes such a note of doom in my mind.”
    Cecily merely smiled. “You worry too much, Baxter,”