by Kirby Larson
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
* CHAPTER ONE * A Somber Ceremony
* CHAPTER TWO * Quite the Sticky Proposition
* CHAPTER THREE * Patience Is a Virtue
* CHAPTER FOUR * In the Wee Hours of the Morn
* CHAPTER FIVE * Sleight of Hand and Disappearing Seatmates
* CHAPTER SIX * Theo Quinn, Scientist
* CHAPTER SEVEN * Billy Bottle, Good Samaritan
* CHAPTER EIGHT * Insult to Injury
* CHAPTER NINE * I’ve Been Robbed!
* CHAPTER TEN * Mail Call
* CHAPTER ELEVEN * No Way to Treat a Baby
* CHAPTER TWELVE * Mysteries and Magicians
* CHAPTER THIRTEEN * Finding Punk
* CHAPTER FOURTEEN * The Pomegrantos
* CHAPTER FIFTEEN * One Life Gone?
* CHAPTER SIXTEEN * Will the Lost Be Found?
* CHAPTER SEVENTEEN * Pachyderms and Pickles
* CHAPTER EIGHTEEN * You Are Getting Sleepy
* CHAPTER NINETEEN * An Unwanted Visitor
* CHAPTER TWENTY * If It’s Not Splendid
* CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE * Plenty of Dr. Leo’s Breathene
* CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO * Roll Out the Barrels
* CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE * The No-Good Jamie Doolan
* CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR * A Lovely Cuppa Tea
* CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE * Opening-Night Jitters
* CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX * Where There’s a Will, There’s a Way
* CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN * The Plan’s Afoot
* CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT * Smoke and Mirrors, But Especially Mirrors
* CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE * Minutes Until Showtime
* CHAPTER THIRTY * Exactly According to Plan
* CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE * Keys to the Case
* CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO * A Bit of Magic for Bimmy
* CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE * A Knock at the Door
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Kirby Larson
Copyright
Audacity Jones peered around the corner, examining the great hallway of Miss Maisie’s School for Wayward Girls with utmost care.
“Is the coast clear?” asked someone standing behind her.
“Clear?” echoed the three small voices belonging to the triplets.
Audacity scouted left and right. Not a kid-leather boot nor starched pinafore to be seen in either direction. The dozen other Wayward Girls were no doubt hard at work on the morning lesson.
Thinking of that lesson, Audacity—Audie to her friends—could not help but remember that it was Tuesday. Pastry day. Would that mean éclairs? Brioche? Or the delicacy from Beatrice’s hometown, the canelé? One of those petite vanilla rum cakes could make the heartiest of souls swoon. Audie sighed. If this was canelé day … she inhaled sharply, putting an end to such self-indulgent thoughts. There were matters at hand far more significant than creations of pure sweet cream butter, and brown sugar, and—
Audie’s confectioned daydream came to an abrupt end with the sudden meeting of an elbow and the delicate space between her ninth and tenth ribs. She turned.
“Sorry, chum.” Bimmy’s expression was most apologetic. “I didn’t mean to bump you.”
“No harm done.” Audie was instantly forgiving—she needed a reminder to focus upon the task at hand. She checked the hallway once again; still empty.
On tiptoe, Audie led her comrades to their secret spot, a cozy little cubby below the old servants’ stairs. Bimmy followed Audie, and three blonde shadows trailed Bimmy. A casual observer might blink thrice in astonishment but, no, said observer would not be hallucinating. On fairy-light feet tripped three petite and identical children, so alike they appeared to be cut out with the same cookie cutter. The first blue-eyed blonde with porcelain skin was Violet, the second Lilac, and the last and smallest (but not the youngest; that was Lilac by four minutes) Lavender.
Bimmy and the triplets were Audie’s closest friends at the School for Wayward Girls. Since Bimmy’s arrival four years back, the five had been constant companions. As a matter of fact, the quintet had not spent one single day apart until Audie’s recent misadventure with the Commodore. Alas, dear reader, there is not sufficient time to further describe those events; I leave it to you to consult a previous volume recounting Audacity Jones’s first foray into the rescue business.
Like a pinafored centipede, the five girls moved as one across the worn cabbage roses of the hallway runner. They paced twenty steps south, twelve steps west, and three north until they reached the three-quarter door, nearly hidden from view by an overgrown philodendron. Audie, first to reach it, turned the knob and allowed her friends to enter before closing it with a quiet snick.
They settled themselves in a somber circle. From her starched apron pocket—in addition to many other aspects of their daily life, the Waywards’ wardrobes had greatly improved since Beatrice’s arrival—Audie withdrew a candle nubbin. From the opposite pocket, she produced a match and a flint. With great care, she placed the candle in the center of the circle. With equal care, she struck the match, whose sulfur fumes caused all the girls to cough. Candle lit, she extinguished the match with her breath.
“It is time,” she intoned. She reached her right hand out for Bimmy and her left for Violet. Or it might have been Lavender; it was dark in spite of the guttering candle. “As you know, Cypher will arrive on the morrow. And I will venture away with him.”
At this, a tear trickled down Lilac’s right cheek. Though she knew her friend to be quite capable, she could not contain her worries. After all, Audie’s last outing with Cypher, though exhilarating, had proved treacherous. Lilac sniffled.
“No need to fret.” Audie handed Lilac a starched handkerchief. She smiled fondly at the triplets, who had been placed in Miss Maisie’s care, and thus in Audie’s, as infants.
Audie herself had arrived at Miss Maisie’s some five years prior. Unlike the sixteen other girls at the School for Wayward Girls, she was not wayward but orphaned; her guardian uncle could not be bothered to discern the difference. He had merely driven Audie to the town of Swayzee, to the school that he’d seen advertised in the Indianapolis News. There he presented Miss Maisie with his niece and a tidy sum before striding off without one backward glance at the waif who’d been under his roof less than a fortnight.
Even at the tender age of six, Audie had been resourceful. In the pockets of her little pink pinafore she had stashed a chunk of cheese and two biscuits against possible hunger. And what foresight! She had scarcely been at the School one hour when she offended Miss Maisie with a request to be shown their schoolbooks. That resulted in her first trip of many to the Punishment Room. And it was through one of the room’s narrow leaded glass windows that Miniver squeezed for the first time. The chocolate-striped kitten was delighted to share that bit of cheese, an action that had sealed the bond of friendship between Min and Audie.
At the present moment, Min, no longer a kitten, fitted herself through a gap in the old servants’ stairs. She padded on white paws around the perimeter of the girls’ circle, sniffing. Reconnaissance complete, she leapt onto Audie’s lap.
Audie allowed Min to settle before continuing. “Though Cypher has assured us this assignment will be nothing but run-of-the-mill, Beatrice has advised that I not go alone.” Here, Audie omitted a significant detail: Since the recent communication from Cypher, her ear had been buzzing to beat the band. You, dear reader, might imagine a buzzing ear a mere inconvenience. But in Audie’s case, it was a warning. That buzzing ear had alerted her many times to potential dangers, including her parents’ ill-advised and
ill-fated safari in the Dutch East Indies.
Audie smiled at her bosom friend. “And Bimmy has agreed to accompany me.”
Bimmy returned the smile, though it did not completely cover her true feelings. She would, of course, be Audie’s willing companion no matter the destination. But there seemed to be more to Audie’s invitation than met the eye. Bimmy scolded herself for such thoughts; if Audie was holding something in reserve, keeping a secret, there was an impeccable reason for doing so. “It’s an honor, of course,” she said.
Lilac could restrain herself no longer. A tear dribbled down her left cheek.
“Oh, don’t be such a milksop,” scolded Violet.
“It’s not as if they’ll encounter the likes of the Commodore again,” soothed Lavender.
Lilac dabbed at her eyes. “But I will miss them so.”
That one had acknowledged aloud a truth held in common by all unhinged the older-by-seconds sisters. They began to sniffle as well.
“Now, now.” Audie, anticipating such a turn of events—the triplets were exceedingly prone to waterworks—had well provisioned her pockets; she was nothing if not prepared. “It sounds as if we will be gone a week at most.” She dispensed two additional handkerchiefs. “And you’ll be so occupied with those croissant orders for Sharp’s General Store that you won’t even notice we’re gone.”
“No matter how busy we are,” snuffled Lavender, “we will always notice when you are g-g-gone.” The atmosphere at Miss Maisie’s School for Wayward Girls had deflated like a day-old balloon after Audie departed on her previous adventure. And now Bimmy would be gone, to boot.
Audie’s expression turned tender. “Just think how sweet our reunion will be in one week’s time!”
That thought did provide some comfort and stilled the noisiest of the sniffling.
“Now, to the purpose of this assembly.” Audie squeezed the hands in each of hers and those squeezes were passed around the circle.
The flickering candlelight cast shadows over Audie’s face. It was not a fearful effect; quite the contrary, it was reassuring. “This very day it is my great pleasure to initiate Lilac, Lavender, and Violet into the Order of Percy.” She pulled three small fragments of fabric from her pocket.
Many years previous, these fragments had been attached to Audie’s beloved stuffed giraffe. But upon the triplets’ arrival at Miss Maisie’s, it soon became apparent that Percy was the only thing that would comfort Violet. Without flinching, Audie freely gave her toy to the infant. Over the course of the years, Percy had been loved to bits. All that remained were the two nearly bald ears and a raggedy tail.
“By the powers vested in me as the only orphan at Miss Maisie’s, I hereby extend to you this invitation. If you accept, answer ‘I do with all my heart.’ ” Audie paused to allow the triplets a moment. “Do you, Lilac, accept this nomination into the Order of Percy and promise to fulfill all of the responsibilities required of such an honor?”
Lilac swallowed hard. “I do, with all my heart.”
Lavender responded in the same manner.
Violet, however, asked, “What are the responsibilities?” Her sisters shushed her, but Bimmy jumped right in. “Why, to do whatever Audie might if she were here.”
Violet’s face assumed an even more serious expression. “There isn’t anyone who can do what Audie does.”
“It’s not so hard.” Audie ducked her head modestly.
“Besides, we’ll help,” pledged Lilac and Lavender.
With a huge sigh, Violet also answered, “I do, with all my heart.”
The girls leaned in toward the candle. Audie started them off in the motto she’d taught them. “Things will always turn out splendid in the end, and if it’s not splendid, it’s not the end,” the five recited.
Audie nodded and Bimmy blew out the candle. In an instant, the little space was dense with dark. Despite this, the five girls remained seated, each reflecting on the upcoming week.
The triplets would do their best to fill Audie’s kid-leather boots: They envisioned themselves encouraging the younger Waywards, making Professor Teachtest’s lessons as lively as possible, and, in general, keeping things running smoothly at the School because, heaven knows, it was beyond Miss Maisie’s capacity to do so.
Bimmy’s thoughts turned to the coming train journey. All the way to New York City! She and her parents had performed there once, when they’d joined up with the Barley and Bingham Circus.
Audie’s thoughts were more practical in nature. She had been delighted, of course, to hear from Cypher and readily agreed to his request for assistance. She would travel anywhere with a man of such high ideals and astonishing capacity for heroism, despite his somewhat dour disposition. And there was the rub. Though Cypher’s good qualities were many, he was not overly fond of children—he considered Audie more colleague than child. And he couldn’t abide cats.
“I’m hungry,” whispered Lilac.
“Me too,” whispered Lavender.
“Do you think there are any canelés left?” asked Violet.
Audie followed her friends through the tiny door into the grand hallway, giving herself a stern talking-to along the way. Why did she fret so about presenting her case to Cypher? Hadn’t she snatched the President’s niece from the evil talons of wicked kidnappers? Convincing Cypher to bring Bimmy and Min along on this present mission should be a snap compared to that!
“Absolutely not!” Cypher stood tall and resolute in his dark wool suit.
Audie thought he had looked grander in the Secret Service uniform, but evidently guarding President Taft proved too calm for Cypher’s taste. He had recently signed on with the Pinkerton National Detective Agency and was now enlisting Audie’s help with his first solo case. “I came to gather up one child. Not two children and a cat.” He paced in front of the grand Dutch-tiled fireplace in the room formerly known as the Punishment Room but now known to all the Waywards as the library. Miss Maisie, however, still avoided this gracious space at all costs. How one survives without books and stories is beyond comprehension, but there are evidently persons who do not partake of the written word. I know, dear reader, it causes you to shudder as it does me.
Beatrice entered bearing a silver tray from which emanated a rich and honeyed aroma. “Bonjour, monsieur. Tea?” Her pale cheeks were brushed with pink as often happened when she was in Cypher’s presence.
His attention was diverted from Audie’s outrageous request to the offered sweets. “Is that baghlava?”
“But of course!” Beatrice blushed a deeper rose. “After the excitation grande in the capital city, and your kindness in driving me to Miss Maisie’s, it was only good manners to find a recipe from your native Persia as a way to say merci.”
The notion that Beatrice would trouble herself in this regard seemed to flummox Cypher completely. He was thrown for such a loop that he added both milk and lemon to his tea. In rather astonishing proportions. And he did not even flinch as he took a sip of the disagreeable combination.
“Won’t you try one?” Beatrice offered the glazed, layered pastries, glistening with rose water and finely ground pecans. “I know they will not be as, how you say it, délicieuse, as those your mother prepared. But perhaps they will remind you of home, in some small way.”
Cypher lifted one of the squares to his mouth and took a tentative bite. He chewed. A sigh escaped his lips. From his expression, it was clear he was no longer standing in the library, but had been transported to his desert homeland, seated on rich carpets among loving family and friends.
“They are bons, yes?” Beatrice watched anxiously.
His eyes slowly opened. He cleared his throat. “They are”—he licked a crumb from the corner of his mouth—“quite adequate.”
Beatrice clapped her hands. “Merci, merci.” She held up the tray, urging him to take another. “Please, enjoyment of your tea while I assist the young mesdemoiselles with their packing.”
“Do have a seat, Cypher,” Audie urge
d. “We’re nearly ready.”
He chewed, nodding thoughtfully. Then he sat bolt upright in the chair, coughing pecans all over the Tabriz carpet. “No. No. Not mesdemoiselles plural.” He reached for his teacup, drank, and coughed even harder. “I am here for Audie. Audie alone.”
Beatrice wisely removed herself from the library.
Audie perched primly on the reading chair that had belonged to Miss Maisie’s late father, Mr. Witherton. “About that.”
She studied her patent-leather footwear, a souvenir from her recent adventure in the nation’s capital. She wiggled the toes in her left boot, reassuring herself that the remaining precious gold coin from her parents was still safe and secure, its partner having gone to a good cause in Washington, D.C.
As a general rule, Audie was loath to cloak the truth, but she had regrettably learned that there are times when such a strategy is essential. Cypher did not need to know the true reason Audie was keen on Bimmy’s company. “Miss Maisie has been under some scrutiny,” she began. “By the county board of … board. It seems they found her decision to allow me to go off with the Commodore ill-advised.” Audie patted the cushioned arms of the reading chair. “From now on, any Wayward who leaves the School must do so in the company of another Wayward.”
Cypher blotted at the front of his dark jacket in an attempt to absorb the tea that had sprayed when he coughed. “You said nothing about this when I first wrote you.” His hand froze in mid-blot. “Exactly which board?” he inquired. Had Audie not been so extremely fond of him, she would have been crushed at the suspicious nature of the question.
Audie swung her legs, donning a look of sheer innocence. “Oh, you know they don’t really let us in on such details.” She shrugged, bringing her shoulders daintily up to her ears. “Being that we are mere children.”
“This is blackmail,” Cypher sputtered.
“Of course”—Audie’s legs paused in their swinging—“I could always remain at home.”
Cypher nearly growled, “I will agree to the other girl.” He set his cup down with a clink and a rattle. “But no cat.” His strong hand sliced through the air like a scimitar. “Not even one as clever as Min. And that is my final word.”
