Jane Lindskold The Buried Pyram

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buried under some of these rather generous underthings?
Stephen colored slightly, but nodded.
Sir Neville, why don t you and I take the rest of the cabinets? I ll start with those on the right, you the
left. Miss Benet, when you are finished there, would you check the area around the washstand? Mrs.
Travers may have absentmindedly tucked the case into one of the cubbies when she was attending to her
toilette. I know my sisters are always doing such things.
They conducted their search steadily until not a cabinet had been left unopened or a drawer unprobed.
They confirmed that the Colonel had laid in a considerable supply of his favorite pipe tobacco, that Mrs.
Travers had a fondness for candied violets, and that someone Jenny suspected Mary had hidden a
partially eaten box of chocolates beneath a pile of writing paper. However, they did not find the jewelry
case.
What next, Dupin? Neville asked, closing the last cabinet drawer, and turning to where Stephen stood
with head propped against his fist.
I m thinking, Stephen muttered. My instincts tell me that the case is still in this room. I must be right!
Too many innocents stand to lose if I am not. I will not let that happen.
But where can we look? Jenny asked. Will you have us prying up the floorboards next?
She looked quite ready to attempt this, so Neville was relieved when Stephen replied, No, not the
floorboards . . . The mattresses!
I looked under these bunks already, Neville reported. No luck.
Stephen s grin did not fade.
We are not inspecting, sir, we are ratiocinating! Put yourself in Mrs. Travers s place. She is a woman,
no longer young and not in the best condition. She has dressed for the day, and needs to put her jewelry
case away. However, she has chosen to keep it in a drawer that requires her to kneel beside the bed.
She is stout, and tightly corsetted.
A discomfort you have to feel to fully appreciate, Jenny interjected, poking at her own less than
fashionably restricted waist.
Stephen began to mime out Mrs. Travers s presumed actions.
She sets the jewelry case on the lower bunk, but she needs both hands to open the drawer. See, it
sticks a bit. Something halts her a servant with hot water, a question from her husband, Mary asking
her to do something to her hair. What it is does not matter. Mrs. Travers leaves the jewelry case on the
lower bunk. Later, something pushes it back perhaps someone sitting on the edge of the bunk to put on
shoes. The case is slid back, and . . .
Stephen leaned over the mattress and poked his hand between it and the wall.
The case falls into the crevice and becomes wedged there.
He felt around, seized something, and drew it forth.
Voila, mes amis! The missing jewel case!
Neville and Jenny burst into spontaneous applause. Mr. Watkins, who had apparently been waiting in the
corridor, flung open the door. His face lit with joy when he saw the box in Stephen s hand.
Oh, Mr. Holmboe, you are a wonder! That must be the very box. See, there are her initials on the lid.
Stephen gave the box a slight shake.
The box is locked, but from the sound I believe you will find the contents intact. Let us hurry to the
library and inform the Traverses of our find.
I wonder, Jenny said as she hurriedly led the way, why Hamlin didn t find the case when he was
making up the bunks.
Quite probably because he was not looking for it, Stephen said. He may even have heard a faint
thump when he was tucking in the bedclothes, but thought nothing of it. Those bunks are deuced hard to
make up, as I found when attempting to spare Bert a bit of bother.
The fuss Mrs. Travers made was tremendous. To Neville s heartfelt relief, nothing more was said about
thieving natives. Jenny might not have been so restrained once the lady was no longer suffering from her
loss.
That evening at dinner, Captain Easthill reported the day s events, obviously to forestall gossip that might
cast a less than favorable light on his vessel or its crew.
I have said little about the methods by which Mr. Holmboe recovered the missing jewel case, Captain
Easthill concluded. Perhaps Mr. Holmboe would favor us with a more detailed discussion in place of the
planned entertainment.
Stephen waved a hand in a self-deprecating fashion.
Actually, Captain, if everyone would permit, I would rather offer a reading from Edgar Allan Poe, the
very story that set me on the track of the missing jewels. It s a grand little piece called The Purloined
Letter.
6
Alexandria
By the time Neptune s Charger arrived at Alexandria, Jenny had memorized a handful of useful phrases
in Arabic, but felt she was no closer to getting a grasp of the language than before. She actually felt better [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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