It was a nice face, with twinkly blue eyes and a cheeky grin. A hand appeared next to the face, with a beckoning finger. “Here! Come over here.”

Pansy hesitated. She’d seen the young lad on the roof earlier, when she’d gone out to fill the coal bucket. He’d whistled at her, the sort of whistle that made her blush. She’d given him a wave of her hand before going back into the kitchen, and that whistle had warmed her right through, making her forget how cold the kitchen could be before the stove was lit.

“Come here! I want to talk to you!” The words hissed across the empty lobby, inviting and dangerously exciting.

Pansy glanced at the reception desk, where Philip, the desk clerk, sat huddled over a newspaper. He hadn’t even looked up. Pansy hesitated a moment longer, then darted across the lobby to the front door.

Slipping outside into the chilly air, she crossed her arms to hug herself against the cold wind. “Whatcha want?”

“I just want to talk to you, that’s all. Tell me your name.”

“Pansy.” She stared boldly into the laughing eyes. “What’s yours?”

“Lenny. I’m working up there on your roof.”

“Yeah, I saw you.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Did you hear about the footman what got killed, then?”

Lenny’s eyes clouded with concern. “Yeah, I did. Poor bugger. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s what.”

“Yeah, he was.” She shivered as a gust of wind whipped her skirt around her ankles. Across the street the empty sands stretched out to the rows of frothy waves racing to shore. The water looked dark and gray, signaling the onset of a storm. Maybe even snow, though it didn’t usually last long if it came. Looking back at Lenny, she added, “Mrs. Chubb says as how your boss will be in trouble.”

Lenny’s eyebrows shot up, giving him a comical expression, though his eyes were anything but amused. “Mick? What’s he got to do with it?”

“He left the gargoyle up on the roof where it could fall down, that’s what. Mrs. Chubb says that’s criminal negil… negle… neg…”