“So if he did take a shower that night, and whoever came in here wanted to make it look as if he’d slipped in the tub, they would have had to dry off the shower stall in case Nat was found before it dried off by itself. So they grab the towels in a hurry and rub vigorously-”

“And the sheep falls off!” Clara blurted out, finishing Regan’s sentence. “Nat must have been murdered!”

“Clara, you’ve got to keep an eye out for those towels. Whoever took them might have hidden them somewhere in the club.”

“A murderer was here, Regan! A murderer!”

“Clara, we don’t know that.”

“Yes we do. Why else would those towels be missing?”

Good question, Regan thought. “Clara, please don’t call-”

“I’m not calling the crime show. Don’t worry! But I’ll search every inch of this club, looking for those towels.” Clara clutched Regan’s hand. “I want to help you find who did this to Nat. I’m telling you. He made my job easy. The man hated to take a bath!”

57

At New Scotland Yard, Jack was unsuccessful in finding anything that meant anything in the pile of papers, pictures, and maps found in the suspect’s apartment.

His friend Ian finally suggested, “Why don’t we wrap up here and go across to Finnegan’s Wake for some lunch?”

Jack looked at his watch. It was already after two. There was a 6:00 P.M. flight he could catch home. “Sounds good,” he said. I’ll call Regan on my way to the airport, he thought.

At a corner table in the pub, they ordered pints of beer and shepherd’s pie.

“So you don’t want to stay and make a night of it here, Jack?” Ian asked him. “We could go out and have some fun.”

Jack shook his head and smiled. “Thanks, Ian, but I’ve got to get back.”

“Something tells me it’s not for business,” Ian said with a glint in his eye.

Jack took a sip of his beer. “Not really business, no.” He told Ian about his relationship with Regan and what she was doing that weekend at the Settlers’ Club. “It’s funny, there’s somebody running a butler school out of an apartment there. I mentioned it to the maid in my hotel here, and she said there’s a lot of competition among the butler schools here.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “It’s more than friendly competition. We have one guy we’re keeping an eye on. Thorn Darlington. He runs the biggest butler school, and he’s trouble.”

“Why?”

“He thinks he’s the only one in this country, or the world for that matter, who should teach butlers how to serve tea. Most other schools that have opened over here have shut down. Usually under suspicious circumstances. The owner of one died in a late-night car crash. Another school burned down when a grease fire started in the kitchen. Yet another school’s students all came down with food poisoning. A few of them nearly died. Needless to say, it was impossible for the school to find anyone new who would enroll there. But Darlington’s school always remains untouched.”

“You think he was involved in the incidents?”

“Let’s just say his name is written all over them, but we can’t prove anything. We’ve heard he wants to open a butler school in New York now.”

Jack frowned. “The butler school at the club is across the hall from the apartment where Regan is staying.”

“I’d be interested to hear about it,” Ian said. “Who knows whether this Thorn Darlington has gotten wind of it?”

Jack suddenly felt uncomfortable. “I’m glad I’m getting back today.”

“If my girl were in a situation like that, I’d certainly want to get back there.”

“It’s not that she can’t take care of herself…” Jack began.

Ian held up his hand. “I understand-when you love somebody…”

“Love somebody? I didn’t say…”

“You didn’t have to. Now I’ll get the bill and go back to the office and run a check on Thorn Darlington’s recent activities. You go get your things from the hotel, and I’ll have a car pick you up in a half-hour to take you to the airport. I’ll give the driver any information I have on Darlington.”

“Thanks, Ian.”

“Not at all. Next time you come over, bring this Regan Reilly. I’d like to meet her.”

“I will,” Jack said. More than ever, he felt restless, eager to get back home.

58

It didn’t take long for Jack to pack his things in the hotel room. He dialed Regan’s number on his cell phone. It rang three times before she picked up.

“Hey there,” he said after she picked up.

“Jack. Hi.” Regan’s voice sounded relieved.

“What’s the matter?”

“Where do I start? Well, let’s see. Someone came into the apartment last night when I was sleeping. They ran away when they realized I was here.”

Jack’s hand squeezed the phone tightly. “I had a bad feeling about that place.”

“And now I’m pretty convinced that Nat Pemrod was murdered.”

“I’m on my way back,” Jack told her.

“You are?” Regan’s voice lightened.

“I’ve finished here. And I found out something that might just add to the troubles at that club. A guy named Thorn Darlington, who heads the most famous butler school in England, is planning to open a school in New York. He doesn’t take kindly to anyone who tries to compete with his business.”

“Oh, great,” Regan said. “Maldwin will be thrilled to hear the news.”

“They’re getting more information on him for me. In the meantime, be careful around there.”

Regan smiled. She hadn’t told him the special significance that expression had for her. She’d wait till he got back. “I will. And I have other stories for you that you wouldn’t believe. Yesterday really took the cake. This morning the Settlers’ Club and all its woes are splashed on the front page of the New York World.”

Jack sighed. “I’m really glad I’m coming back tonight.”

“Me too. You know we have the club’s anniversary party.”

“Save me a dance.”

Regan laughed. “A lot of Lydia’s singles will be here. I’m sure the women will make a beeline for you.”

“Thanks but no thanks. I’ll tell them my dance card is full.”

The maid knocked on Jack’s door, then a half a second later, flung it open. “Oh, hello, love,” she said.

“It sounds like your dance card is already full,” Regan said.

“Very funny. I’ll see you tonight.”

Regan turned off her phone and smiled. Clara came up behind her. “Was that your boyfriend?” she asked.

“Yes,” Regan said, although she’d never called him that.

“Ya know, you’ve got the same look on your face that Nat got when he talked about Wendy.”

Oh, great, Regan thought. Let’s hope I don’t end up dead.

59

Maybe we should just break up.” Janey cried daintily into her oatmeal.

Thomas grabbed her hand. “We could try counseling.”

“Counseling? Why do we need counseling?”

“Because you want to break up.”

“No I don’t. I’m upset because I embarrassed you.”

“Forget it! We’ll get through this. Now eat, you need to eat.” Thomas dug into his soft-boiled egg. “We need our strength to get through today.”

“If only Mrs. Buckland hadn’t called me yesterday wanting some stupid roast chicken. This never would have happened.”

“Janey,” Thomas chided, “life is full of ‘if onlys.’ If only Ben hadn’t died, if only Nat hadn’t died, if only they’d given us the diamonds before they died…”

“Hello, folks.” Regan was standing at their table.

“Regan!” Thomas looked up. “Sit down.”

“For a few minutes,” Regan said as she took a seat. They were at the same table as the night before, and the dining room once again resembled a tomb. But tonight, Regan thought, hopefully, there will be some action. She glanced up at the portrait of the club’s founder and was sure the expression on his face had turned into a scowl overnight. I can’t blame him, she thought. “I saw Clara.”