The Bloomsbury Affair

by Anita Davison

  ‘That fellow?’ Ed pursed his lips. ‘I suppose he has a look of Leo, but that garish blue suit is a giveaway. No one educated at Marlborough College would wear their tie like that either. He’s giving that porter quite a set-down too. No manners obviously.’

  ‘He behaved similarly the first time I was here. Take a good look at him. Have you seen him before?’

  ‘No, I haven’t. But I didn’t see everyone who was on the train that day. He might have been there.’

  The altercation with the porter came to an abrupt halt when Leonard Hunter-Griggs pounded the desk with a fist, then swivelled on an angry heel before disappearing through a door on the other side of the lobby.

  ‘I wonder what that was about?’ Ed mused.

  ‘I’ve no idea, but we got what we came for, so perhaps we shouldn’t tempt fate and leave now. Inspector Maddox can follow up on Maisie’s story.’

  ‘It’s Miss Harrington, isn’t it?’ A masculine voice said at her elbow.

  Flora spun round to where a handsome man in a black frock coat and perfectly tied cravat stood. ‘Er… yes, it is, I…’ She swallowed nervously, unsure which of the Hunter-Griggs twins stood before her, and certain she had not given her name on her previous visit. ‘It’s Mrs Harrington, actually.’

  ‘Mrs Harrington.’ He shook her hand in both of his. ‘My father described you perfectly. He said a charming lady journalist by the name of Harrington called on him at Albany requesting an interview.’

  ‘The Colonel… uh, mentioned me?’ Flora squirmed. He had not released her hand and she debated how to withdraw it without offending him.

  ‘He did. And I’m glad to have an opportunity to thank you. You brightened up the old boy’s day. He isn’t in the best of health and doesn’t get about as he used to, so he becomes easily bored. Actually,’ his eyebrows rose into his low hairline. ‘Haven’t we met before?’

  ‘You have an excellent memory, Mr Hunter-Griggs.’ She relaxed, smiling as she realized he must be Mr Frederick. ‘On that occasion you were distracted by an awkward guest.’

  ‘A good memory for names and faces is an advantage in the hotel business. Is your husband not with you today?’ He aimed a vague, enquiring look towards Ed.

  ‘Er… not today. However, allow me to introduce my cousin.’ She tugged her hand firmly from his. ‘Edward, Viscount Trent. Viscount Trent, Mr Frederick Hunter-Griggs.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you.’ Ed thrust out his hand, which the older man took with a polite but bland inclination of his head showing the name meant nothing to him. ‘To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today?’

  ‘We were on our way to the exhibition at the museum,’ Ed replied without missing a beat. ‘We stepped in here for some refreshment beforehand. I’m told it’s a fascinating display.

  ‘How interesting. I haven’t yet seen the exhibition, which is remiss of me being as it’s merely yards away.’ Mr Frederick nodded slowly. ‘Actually, there’s someone I would like you to meet. If you aren’t in a hurry to get to the museum, of course…’

  ‘Well, we really ought to—’ Flora stammered.

  ‘Oh, do say you can spare a few moments, ‘he cut across her vague protest. ‘My sister Francis would love to meet you.’

  ‘Your sister?’ Flora said weakly. Francis is a woman? Why didn’t she think of that before? Francis was also a woman’s name, and often spelled the same way.

  ‘My twin sister, yes.’ He stared round the crowded lobby, searching faces as he talked, oblivious to her growing disquiet. ‘As a woman of business herself, Francis expressed a keen wish to make your acquaintance. She’s interested to hear all about your journalistic ambitions. In fact, she should be back from her appointment any moment.’ His darting gaze finally shifted to a point past her shoulder. ‘Ah, there she is now.’

  A striking young woman entered the hotel and paused to greet a guest, giving Flora time to study her. Tall, slender with dark hair swept into a loose arrangement of sausage curls beneath a pert burgundy felt hat with a vertical black feather. Her skin was flawless and porcelain pale, with symmetrical features in a face which drew all eyes towards her; a phenomenon of which she appeared unaware.

  Her conversation came to an end and she swept the room with wide cat-like eyes, finally settling on her brother. Her perfect lips curled into a warm smile as she glided towards them.

  ‘Frederick.’ She greeted him with a brief press of her lips on his cheek before her gaze slid to Flora and Ed, with a look of enquiry, as she waited for an introduction.

  Flora’s throat dried and found she was staring. However, it wasn’t Francis Hunter-Griggs’ classic looks which affected her, but the woman’s burgundy red coat with its row of black chevrons encircling the flared skirt below knee-level.

  ‘Francis, my dear.’ Frederick drew her closer. ‘This is the lady Father told us about. Mrs Flora Harrington, and her cousin, Viscount Trent.’

  ‘How wonderful you should be here.’ She clasped her gloved hands together, her lips parted displaying perfect white teeth. ‘When Papa told me he had been interviewed by a lady journalist, I was entranced. When he mentioned you were an admirer of Mrs Millicent Fawcett, I begged him to give me your name and address, but he seemed to know very little about you.’

  ‘Well, I’m not actually a journalist, er… not yet.’ Flora summoned a weak smile, while she resisted every nerve ending which told her to run.

  ‘Don’t be so modest,’ Francis placed a hand on Flora’s forearm. ‘A journalist and an advocate for women’s’ rights. I’m sure we will have so much to talk about.’ She gave the room a swift, critical sweep with her startling eyes. ‘But you don’t want to sit here with all these people coming and going. Why don’t we adjourn upstairs to my sitting room?’ Without waiting for a response, Francis placed a firm hand on Flora’s back and guided them both towards the ascending room.

  ‘Perhaps we might postpone this visit for another time?’ Flora halted in front of the gates. ‘I’m not fond of enclosed spaces, I’m afraid.’

  ‘I didn’t know you were claustrophobic?’ Ed rubbed his hands together, oblivious to her frantic eyebrow dance. ‘I’d love to try it out. I’ve never been in an ascending room, only those escalator things they have at Harrods, which aren’t the same at all.’

  Had he not been so far away Flora would have stamped on his foot. Instead she groaned inwardly as the gates clanked open and she was ushered inside. That’s all she needed; to be trapped in a cage with a possible murderess.

  Chapter 30

  ‘These contraptions have always fascinated me.’ Ed kept a steady stream of chatter on the short but tense journey inside the metal box up to the fourth floor. ‘Ever since my grandmother told me about the one she saw at the Crystal Palace Exhibition when she was a girl.’

  ‘They’ve been refined somewhat since then.’ Miss Hunter-Griggs turned the full heat of her beautiful eyes on him. ‘More and more hotels are installing them, which is a shame. I’m sure many of our guests book a room here primarily to enjoy the novelty of our ascending room.’

  The lift jerked slightly. Flora reached for the handrail that ran around three sides of the enclosed box, the other pressed against her midriff.

  ‘Are you all right, Flora?’ Ed ducked his head close to hers to be heard over the loud grinding of gears. ‘You look a bit pale. Don’t you find this exhilarating?’ His enthusiastic nudge to her ribs and cheerful smile made her want to slap him.

  ‘Please don’t be unduly worried, Mrs Harrington.’ Miss Hunter-Griggs laid a reassuring hand on Flora’s forearm, her eyes darkening in concern. ‘This is an Otis safety elevator. Should the cable break, which I assure you it will not, a device engages something called knurled rollers which lock the guides.’

  Flora smiled and nodded, refusing to play the nervous female with regards to the lift, although kept a tight grip on her handbag. The sight of grey blank walls and building struts gliding past on their way up did make her slightly queasy.

&nb
sp; The lift bounced to a stop, the gates dragged open with a noisy screech by the attendant, releasing them into a semi-circular hall with three doors leading off a curved wall.

  Miss Hunter-Griggs approached the left-hand door, which she unlocked with a key attached to a fob in the colours of the hotel. ‘Welcome to my domain,’ she stepped to one side and gestured them inside with an expansive wave of her arm.

  ‘This is lovely.’ Flora couldn’t help but admire the spacious sitting room decorated in shades of teal and pale cream. She had not known what to expect, but the use of colours and textures were beautifully combined to make Flora envious.

  ‘I’m so glad you like it.’ Miss Hunter-Griggs tugged off her gloves, revealing slim fingers with oval pink nails.

  Ed wandered to the window and braced his palms on the sill. ‘There’s quite a view from up here. I can see the entire front of the British Museum.’

  ‘This side of the building faces the street but is far enough up to be quiet.’ Miss Hunter-Griggs dropped the gloves on a nearby table. ‘My bedroom is through there, together with a private bathroom, complete with water closet.’ She gestured to a set of double doors opposite the window. ‘You’ll probably think I’m spoiled, but when Frederick and I were forced to sell our house in Bloomsbury, I insisted everything here be arranged exactly as I wanted it.’

  ‘You were forced to sell?’ Flora laid her bag carefully down on a champagne-coloured silk couch with spindly gold legs.

  ‘Yes, and it was such a blow. I loved that house.’ She sighed. ‘But we needed the funds to complete the hotel renovations. Father had been generous enough and Frederick and I agreed we had to raise the money ourselves.’

  Flora made no comment, having gleaned a slightly different impression from the Colonel. Either Miss Hunter-Griggs was an accomplished liar or the twins had accepted their father’s decree without resentment.

  ‘Frederick and I are delighted with the hotel, which is doing well.’

  ‘It’s most elegant.’ Flora’s gaze stayed on the coat that she had draped carelessly over a chair.

  ‘In fact, I hardly miss the house at all now,’ she went on. ‘The only drawback being the staff call on me at all times of the day and night with problems to sort out, not to mention the odd irate guest.’ She paused in her journey across the room and tilted her head. ‘Do make yourself comfortable, both of you. Might I offer you some refreshment?’

  Ed looked about to accept, but at a swift glance from Flora he clamped his mouth shut.

  ‘That’s kind, but no thank you.’ Flora sank into the upholstery of a blue velvet sofa she had assumed, wrongly, offered more style than comfort.

  ‘Ah, well if you’re sure.’ Their hostess’s smile dissolved as she took a chair in the same rich blue velvet. ‘I’m sure Frederick has done so already, Mrs Harrington, but I wanted to thank you for being so kind to my father.’

  Deprived of an opportunity for food, Ed restored to a slow tour of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. as he examined a display of china ornaments and paintings.

  ‘I didn’t see it as kindness.’ Flora hoped her lie wasn’t too transparent. ‘I genuinely asked him to help me.’ Not that she was about to explain with what.

  Miss Hunter-Griggs sighed. ‘He gets few visitors, and after his health upset last winter he’s been ordered to rest more.’

  ‘He’s been ill?’ Flora recalled the Colonel had mentioned some recent trouble with his heart. ‘He appeared quite well during my visit. I hope nothing has changed?’

  ‘Oh, Father’s as strong as a horse. A carthorse.’ Her light tinkling laugh filled the room. ‘Frederick doesn’t trust doctors and was convinced he told us Father had a heart problem to increase his fee.’

  Ed paused in his examination of a display of china ornaments to bestow a long, admiring look on Miss Hunter-Griggs.

  Flora suppressed a sigh, although his interest in such an attractive woman was understandable. What was more unnerving, was the fact she too was beginning to like this woman.

  ‘Do tell me about your career in journalism, Mrs Harrington.’ Miss Hunter-Griggs wiggled back in her seat and arranged her skirts round her as if settling in for a long chat. ‘I so admire you, a married woman and yet determined to follow your own path. You must have a very obliging husband?’

  Ed gave a snort of laughter which he changed into a cough. ‘Sorry, frog in my throat.’

  ‘The journalism idea is very new and experimental.’ Flora briefly narrowed her eyes at Ed. ‘I don’t know if it will turn into anything, but my husband heartily approves. In his view, if I’m happy and fulfilled, then he can only benefit.’

  ‘How very wise of him. I was engaged once, but I broke it off, much to Father’s chagrin. I prefer life as a businesswoman to that of a wife. I would love to know how you manage to combine the two. Do you have children?’

  Flora swallowed, her gaze going back to the coat. The less this woman knew about her the better. ‘Um, no, not yet.’

  Ed aimed a puzzled frown in her direction, but made no attempt to contradict her.

  ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll manage that as efficiently as you obviously do everything else.’ Miss Hunter-Griggs rose and swept the incriminating coat from the chair. ‘Let me put this away and then we can have our talk.’ She disappeared inside the bedroom just as a streak of black shot past her into the room, while emitting a high-pitched wail, and dashed under the sofa where its mistress had sat.

  ‘I hope you’re not averse to animals?’ she asked, reappearing minus the coat.

  ‘Er, no, not as a rule, although I have none of my own.’ Flora eyed the animal that looked ready to attack any second.

  ‘We have gun dogs in the country.’ Ed replaced an expensive looking Chinese vase onto its plinth, enabling Flora to breathe again. ‘Cats too, to keep the rats down, but they’re feral and I never know how many there are.’

  ‘I couldn’t be without my Mr Brody.’ Miss Hunter-Griggs bent, hooked an arm under the sofa and swept the bundle of fluff into her arms. ‘Have you been fighting again, you naughty boy?’ She pursed her lips and nuzzled the soft fur. ‘I keep him inside most of the time because he tends to battle with the street cats.’ The animal rubbed its nose along her jaw, mewing gently. ‘My poor darling always comes off worse and suffers so.’ She resumed her seat and propped the cat on her lap. Mr Brody scrunched up an already flat face and kneaded her skirt with its claws, circled twice, stretched a pink mouth in a yawn and settled on her knee.

  ‘Your father mentioned you had recently reconciled with your half-brother,’ Flora ventured, having unwittingly entered the lion’s lair, she might as well find out what she could when she had the chance. ‘He said you hadn’t seen him for many years?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Her fingers teased the animal’s fur gently. ‘I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, I know, but Frederick and I resent Father’s late wife for having kept Leonard from us for so many years. I’m sure she must have poisoned his mind against Papa. Not that we would ever speak disrespectfully of her in Leonard’s presence. He’s very loyal to his mother’s memory.’

  ‘Your father mentioned she had died. Was it recent?’ Flora asked.

  ‘Last year, yes.’ She kept her attention on the cat as she spoke but seemed quite matter-of-fact. ‘I hadn’t seen her since I was a child, so cannot pretend to feel anything more than mild regret. She was our nurse, you see, mine and Frederick’s. Between you and me, I think it’s why Papa married her. As a widower with four-year-old twins serving in India, he found himself somewhat at a loss.’

  ‘How did you come to meet Leonard after so long? Your father didn’t give me specific details.’

  ‘It was all quite unexpected.’ The cat stretched its limbs as an invitation to stroke the soft curls on its belly and she obliged. ‘Leonard visited us and explained who he was.’ She dimpled prettily and brought a delicate hand to her mouth. ‘Taking the word of a complete stranger sounds naïve, doesn’t it?’

&n
bsp; ‘I didn’t mean to imply—’

  ‘Oh, no, I’m sure you didn’t. And we didn’t. Take his word for it I mean. Frederick was diligent and put him through some rigorous questioning. Leonard knew all about Father’s service in India, how Sylvia had deserted Father and went running back to her parents in England taking him with her. She opened a haberdashery shop of all things. Can you imagine? No wonder Leo couldn’t wait to meet his real family.’

  ‘Did Leonard remember anything about you or his father?’ Flora asked.

  ‘He claimed to have an unusual intellect and could remember things from when he was about a year old. Since I’ve got to know him I’ve begun to think he fudged it. He’s not the smartest person I’ve met, if you see what I mean.’ She directed a knowing smile at Flora which she transferred to Ed, who flushed. ‘He said he had always known who he was, of course, but was reluctant to contact us out of respect for his mother. When she died, he no longer felt the need to keep away.’

  Flora searched for inconsistencies, but the story flowed easily and with unexpected candour. Nor did she appear to suspect why Flora asked so many questions. If Francis Hunter-Griggs were guilty, then she was also a consummate actress. The prosecution would have a difficult time with her.

  ‘Where had Leonard been all these years?’ Ed placed one foot on the fender and his thumbs tucked into his waistcoat.

  Flora bit her lip to prevent a smile. Bunny often stood just like that when he was pontificating on a point of law or sifting through scenarios. Ed must have studied him to mimic him so accurately.

  ‘He grew up in Cheltenham,’ Miss Hunter-Griggs said. ‘Which is in Gloucestershire, you know. Not that I’ve ever been there, but I’m told it’s an attractive town.’

  ‘I do know, and it is. I once lived there,’ Flora said.

  ‘I still do,’ Ed added.

  ‘Really?’ She stared at first one then the other in what appeared genuine surprise. ‘You didn’t happen to know Leonard or his mother, did you?’