Charlotte looks at her father.
“Mr. Snow’s edict for hotel employees,” he explains. “He’s the hotel manager and self-proclaimed Grand Vizier of hotel hospitality and hygiene. But I’m starting to wonder if his Mr. Clean act is all just a clever front.”
“Molly,” Charlotte says. “Can you tell me anything that might help me understand the drug and weapons charges against you?”
“I can shed some light, I hope. Giselle and I were more than just maid and guest. She trusted me. She shared her secrets with me. She was my friend.” I look to Mr. Preston, fearing I’m disappointing him since I crossed a guest-employee boundary. But he doesn’t look upset, just concerned.
“Giselle came to my house the day after Mr. Black died. I didn’t tell the police about that. I figured it was a private visit in my own home and therefore none of their concern. She was very upset. And she needed a favor from me. I obliged.”
“Oh dear,” says Mr. Preston.
“Dad,” Charlotte says. Then to me, “What did she ask you to do?”
“To remove the handgun she’d hidden in the suite. In the bathroom fan.”
Charlotte and Mr. Preston exchange another look, one I’m all too familiar with—they understand something that I don’t.
“But there weren’t any gunshots heard, or even reports of wounds on Mr. Black’s body,” Mr. Preston says.
“No, not according to any news feeds I’ve seen,” Charlotte replies.
“Asphyxiated,” I say. “That’s what Detective Stark said.”
Charlotte’s mouth falls open. “Good to know,” she says and scribbles something on her yellow pad. “So the gun wasn’t the murder weapon. Did you return it to Giselle?”
“I didn’t get the chance. I hid it in my vacuum cleaner, expecting to give it to her later. Then at lunch, I left the hotel.”
“That’s right,” says Mr. Preston. “I saw you rushing out the doors and was wondering where you were off to in such a hurry.”
I look down at the cup in my lap. Something niggles at my conscience; the dragon in my belly stirs. “I found Mr. Black’s wedding ring,” I say. “And I pawned it. I know that was wrong. It’s just been very hard on my own to make ends meet financially. My gran. She’d be so ashamed of me.” I can’t bear to look up at either of them. Instead, I just stare into the black hole of my teacup.
“Dear girl,” Mr. Preston says. “Your gran understood money troubles better than most. Believe me, I know that much about her and a whole lot more. It’s my understanding that she left you some savings, after she passed?”
“Gone,” I say. “Frittered away.” I can’t explain about Wilbur and the Fabergé. There’s only so much shame I can confess to at once.
“So you pawned the ring and then went back to work?” Charlotte asks.
“Yes.”
“And the police were waiting for you when you came back?”
Mr. Preston steps in. “That’s correct, Charlotte. I was there. Couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it either, though I tried.”
Charlotte shifts her weight in the chair, crosses her legs. “What about the drug charges? Do you understand how those came about?”
“There were traces of cocaine on my maid’s trolley. I have no idea how that’s even possible. I promised Gran long ago that I’d never in my life touch a drug. Now I fear I’ve broken my promise.”
“Dear girl,” Mr. Preston says. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it literally.”
“Let’s go back to the gun,” Charlotte says. “How did the police find it in your vacuum cleaner?”
And here’s where I must confess the pieces that I’ve put together myself since my arrest. “Rodney,” I say, choking on the two syllables, barely able to spit them up and eject them from my mouth.
“I was wondering when his name would pop up,” Mr. Preston says.
“When the police talked to me yesterday, I was afraid. Very afraid. I went straight home and called Rodney.”
“He’s the bartender at the Social,” Mr. Preston adds for Charlotte’s benefit. “Smarmy cretin. Write that down.”
It hurts to hear Mr. Preston say it. “I called Rodney,” I say. “I didn’t know what else to do. He’s been a loyal friend to me, maybe even a little bit more than a friend. I told him about the police questioning me, about Giselle and the gun in my vacuum cleaner, and about the ring I’d found and pawned.”