To Write a Wrong

by Jen Turano

  “I bet you would become distracted if we were talking about one of your books,” Sheldon grumbled as Herman sent Daphne a grin.

  They crept downward a good fifty steps before Herman stopped. “I’ll enter the dungeon first. You two hang back until I can assess the situation. If I run into trouble, you can then rush to my aid, hopefully taking the people holding my grandmother by surprise.”

  “Excellent thinking, Herman,” Daphne said, taking the candle from him as he moved to what looked to be a solid wall at the bottom of the stairs, one that had a cleverly disguised door built into it.

  She held her breath as Herman opened the door and eased through it, leaving her and Sheldon behind.

  “Herman,” Daphne heard Mildred exclaim. “Thank goodness you’re here. As you can see, I’ve landed myself in a pickle.”

  “You can come in,” Herman called. “It’s just my grandmother. The pillowcase-wearing culprits aren’t here.”

  Daphne hurried into the room, Sheldon dogging her steps, which was why he plowed straight into her when she came to an abrupt halt after she spotted Mildred sitting in a chair, a ball-and-chain attached to her foot.

  “Bet that ball-and-chain won’t be long for this house,” Sheldon muttered after he helped her regain her balance from his almost knocking her off her feet.

  “Do you happen to know where the key for this lock is, Grandmother?” Herman asked.

  “They took it with them.”

  “That’s going to be a problem.”

  Daphne plucked a hairpin from her hair and stepped closer to Mildred. “If there’s no key available, we can hope the scant skills I’ve developed with picking locks is enough to where I can get that off you, Mrs. Henderson.”

  “I think you can abandon the Mrs. Henderson business, dear. You may call me Mildred.”

  Daphne knelt on the floor. “Might that sentiment change if I can’t get this unlocked?”

  “Will it motivate you if I say yes?”

  “Couldn’t hurt.”

  Bending to the task at hand, Daphne inserted the pin into the lock, wiggling it to the left, then to the right. She then wiggled it up, then down, and grimaced when nothing happened. “This may be trickier than I imagined. In all honesty, I’ve only been able to pick one lock and that might have only been because Gabriella talked me through it. Perhaps while I attempt to get you free, you should tell us what happened. Also, if everyone would stop watching me, I may find success sooner. The staring is making my fingers turn into thumbs.”

  Mildred’s lips twitched the slightest bit. “I suppose I’ll begin my story by stating that I stopped by here earlier because I wanted to inquire from Perkins or Sheldon if they’d heard when Herman was returning because I have news to share.”

  “What news might that be? Herman asked.

  Mildred waved his question aside. “I’ll get to that after we find ourselves out of this sticky situation. Obviously, I was unable to get my question answered about your return, dear, because I was snatched up by two odd-looking criminals wearing pillowcases over their heads.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “Curiously enough, one of the culprits sounded familiar to me, even though it was clear he was taking pains to disguise his voice.”

  “It was Perkins,” Daphne said.

  Mildred’s eyes widened. “Perkins? Good heavens, but you know, now that I think about it, it did sound like Perkins.”

  “What of the other man? What can you tell us about him?” Daphne asked, frowning when the hairpin she’d been using broke. She tossed it aside and plucked another one from her hair.

  “I don’t think it was a man, because the second person was wearing a gown, and a rather nice gown at that, suggesting the person is not of the servant class.”

  Daphne stopped working on the lock and arched a brow at Sheldon. “You didn’t notice that one of the people who attacked you was a woman?”

  Sheldon winced. “The dress might have been a good clue about that.”

  “I would think so,” Daphne said before she turned back to Mildred. “Why did they leave you in the dungeon?”

  “Because they believe I told them where to find what they’re searching for.” A flicker of smugness flashed through Mildred’s eyes. “They’re currently in the attic and could be up there for hours. And not that I want to make you nervous, but if you could speed up picking that lock, we could make our escape from the house and summon the authorities.”

  “I’m going as fast as I can,” Daphne said before she looked at Herman. “But someone should go and summon the authorities.”

  “A wonderful suggestion. I think you should be the one to fetch the authorities, and Sheldon should go with you in case you run into the culprits in the passageways.”

  “Nice try, but of all of us here, I’m the only one who is an inquiry agent. I’m staying. You should go.”

  Herman’s brows drew together. “While it’s true you are an inquiry agent, I assure you I’m more proficient with a pistol.”

  “Then Sheldon can go on his own.”

  “And I’d be more than happy to do that,” Sheldon began, “if it turns out you can’t get Mildred unlocked within the next five minutes. We’ll be safer if we retain the advantage of being three against two.”

  “There’s four of us in the dungeon,” Mildred pointed out.

  “True, but you’re shackled at the moment, so you’re not really much use.”

  Mildred’s nose wrinkled. “I believe I’ve just been insulted.”

  Daphne gave her an unexpected pat on the knee. “I’m sure Sheldon didn’t mean it that way, but if you’d like to feel more useful, you could tell us what Perkins and his accomplice are searching for.”

  “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to disclose that.”

  “I think that’s a hope you’re not going to be able to realize,” Daphne said, “so disclose away.”

  Mildred blew out a breath as Daphne returned to the lock. “Oh, very well. They’re searching for a map, or rather, the copy of a map my son left before he departed for his last adventure.”

  Herman pulled up a chair shaped like a clamshell next to his grandmother and sat down. “I’ve never heard anything about any map.”

  “That’s because I’ve never mentioned it to you.” Mildred leaned forward and took hold of Herman’s hand. “It’s a copy of a specific map—the map your parents took with them on their last trip. Your father acquired it from an antiquities dealer and was quite thrilled to have found it, even though he knew there was a strong possibility the map wasn’t authentic.”

  Herman stilled. “Do not tell me that you’re about to say my father found a map to El Dorado.”

  “I’m afraid that’s exactly where that map was supposed to lead, just as I’m afraid I have to tell you that your parents and grandfather were off on a quest to see if they could find that ridiculous city when they died.” Mildred shook her head. “I told them it was a futile mission, but your father thought it would be the adventure of a lifetime, as did your mother.”

  “But why were you left with a copy of the map?” Daphne asked.

  “I was opposed to them taking the trip. Evan wanted to leave me with a way to find them if they didn’t return within six months. Unfortunately, they didn’t make it past Florida.”

  Daphne stopped fiddling with the lock. “How horrible.”

  “Indeed.” Mildred sent Herman a fond smile. “However, Herman and I recently had a long overdue talk about the matter, and I think any lingering regret I was holding over not being able to talk them out of it has gone.”

  Daphne gave the pin a twist and released a bit of a grunt when it broke. “This lock-picking business is far trickier than I imagined.” She caught Mildred’s eye. “How certain are you that Perkins might need hours to find that map in the attic?”

  “Very certain, because I didn’t actually hide that map in the attic.”

  Sheldon sat forward on the coffin he was sitting on. “You lied to them?”

&
nbsp; “I did. I thought it would buy me time to figure out how to escape.”

  “Which was very clever of you,” Daphne said before she plucked yet another hairpin out of her hair. “I am beyond curious, though, regarding how anyone knew about that map in the first place.”

  Herman frowned. “I suppose Perkins might have heard stories about it from his family members. He is, after all, a relative of Mr. Conkling, my father’s butler, who perished with my parents when their ship went down.”

  “How long has Perkins worked for you?”

  “About five years or so. He joined my staff when my former butler retired after suffering a broken leg when he came down to this very room to store an ugly vase that—” Herman sent his grandmother a wince.

  “So that’s what happened to that puce-colored vase I got you,” Mildred said, shaking her head. “You could have told me you didn’t care for it.”

  “And hurt your feelings in the process? I think not.” Herman gestured to the coffin Sheldon was sitting on. “It’s in there, along with a few other puce-colored items.”

  Mildred’s gaze lingered on the coffin for a moment before she frowned. “Should I take that to mean you don’t particularly care for puce?”

  “It’s never really appealed to me.”

  “Duly noted.”

  Daphne sat back on her heels when she broke yet another hairpin. She tossed it over her shoulder before she withdrew another one from her hair, causing her hair to straggle in front of her face, obscuring her vison. She pushed it aside. “You don’t think there’s a chance your former butler was pushed down those stairs by Perkins, who would then be able to present himself as the perfect candidate for your next butler, do you?”

  “An interesting theory,” Herman began, “and one I’m hoping you’re wrong about. With that said, though, Perkins wasn’t a perfect candidate, nor has he been an exceptional butler. He’s surly with the staff and doesn’t seem particularly enthusiastic about his duties in the first place, although he did come with stellar recommendations.”

  “Did you follow up on those stellar recommendations?”

  “Well, no, because he also had that connection to my father’s butler. I felt it only fair to hire the man since his relative had perished while in service to my father.”

  Daphne stuck the new hairpin into the lock and gave it a jiggle, which did absolutely nothing. “But why would Perkins wait all these years before trying to find that map? Or if he’s been searching for it all this time, why escalate his attempts now?”

  When Herman simply shrugged, Daphne returned to the lock, her thoughts whirling. “You were considering setting your current novel in El Dorado, or at least sending your characters there as a plot point. When did you decide to do that?”

  Herman looked to Sheldon. “What was it, three, maybe four months ago?”

  “That sounds about right.” Sheldon tilted his head. “We’d been combing through Sarah’s journals to come up with a setting for Herman’s new book, and there was a small note written off to the side in one of those journals that had El Dorado circled. We then reread all the journals to see if we could find more details about that place, but other than a mention here or there, Sarah didn’t elaborate on the lost city of gold. It was somewhat curious because she always followed up those little notes left in margins with pages and pages of research, but in the case of El Dorado, there was nothing.”

  “I stashed Sarah’s last three journals away,” Mildred admitted, wincing as she looked Herman’s way. “I didn’t want to take the chance that you’d read them someday and decide to finish your parents’ quest for them.”

  “That explains why we couldn’t find any more mentions,” Sheldon said. “But we still have so many questions left unanswered, such as . . .”

  As Sheldon continued speaking, Daphne’s mind began to wander, sifting through everything that had happened, everything they knew, and everything they didn’t. Taking a second to wiggle the hairpin in the lock a way she’d not wiggled it before, she stilled when a piece of the puzzle suddenly snapped into place.

  Abandoning the lock, she rose to her feet, pacing around the dungeon as she thought through how the remaining pieces might fit together. She came to an abrupt stop when an interesting idea sprang to mind. “I think I know who Perkins’s accomplice is.”

  “Who?” Sheldon asked.

  “Not anyone I suspected until just now,” she said, heading for the coffin and taking a seat beside Sheldon. “Before I disclose my theory, though, allow me to say that I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “You just said that you spent a lot of time searching through Sarah’s journals, as well as discussing the matter of El Dorado often with Herman. Perkins clearly overheard some of those conversations, but he would have needed a way to get closer to you, or rather, have someone no one would ever suspect get closer to you in order to find out if there was anything else you’d discovered. I’m sorry because I think the lady you seem to hold in great affection, Miss Martha Mulvey, may only have been spending time with you as a way to gain access to Sarah’s journal and what Herman’s parents knew about El Dorado.”

  “Surely not,” Sheldon said right before there was a slight squeaking sound, and then two people with pillowcases over their heads stepped into the dungeon, the smaller of the two leveling a pistol on Daphne after pulling the pillowcase from her head, revealing herself to be none other than Martha Mulvey.

  “I never actually liked you, Daphne, and now I finally understand why.” Martha gave a wave of her pistol. “You’re much too clever for your own good. But I’m afraid that cleverness has finally caught up with you because with our identities now exposed, there’s really no choice but for us to silence all of you—permanently.”

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-Eight

  Herman reached for his pistol, pulling it out of his waistband as Sheldon did the same, while Daphne merely got off the coffin and returned to the lock she’d not been able to pick.

  “I don’t particularly care for that option, Martha, the one about being permanently silenced. If you’ve neglected to notice, you’re decidedly outnumbered. Yes, you and Perkins are armed, but so is everyone else in the room, save Mildred. That means a few of us could very well get shot, and it’s fairly easy to believe that the two of you will be shot for certain.”

  “I’m not Perkins,” said the man still wearing the pillowcase over his head, his voice muffled.

  Martha gave a roll of her eyes. “I think that ship has sailed, cousin.”

  “Ah,” Daphne said, abandoning the lock again as she rose to her feet. “The two of you are related. Things are beginning to make sense.”

  “I don’t really care if things make sense to you,” Martha snapped.

  Daphne tilted her head. “Would you care if I told you that once everything makes complete sense to me, I’ll tell you where the map is?”

  “How do you know the location of the map?”

  “I only recently figured that out. I also think Mildred stashed important journals written by Herman’s mother with that map, which may prove invaluable to you. From what I understand, Sarah was known to take extensive notes.” She nodded to Mildred. “However, if I’m wrong about where you hid everything, dare I hope you’ll be agreeable to divulging that secret?”

  “If it’ll get us out of this sticky situation alive, certainly,” Mildred said.

  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to answer a few questions,” Perkins said, finally removing the pillowcase from his head, although he immediately began looking everywhere except at Herman.

  Martha settled a scowl on Perkins, which he ignored, before she shrugged and turned her scowl on Daphne. “What do you want to know?”

  “How did you learn about the map?”

  “The map to El Dorado has been family lore for years,” Martha said. “My great-uncle, Clyde Conkling, was butler to Herman’s father. He always joined the family for Sunday dinner, and he spoke often about
the trip he was going to take. He apparently only mentioned El Dorado one time, though, when he’d had a bit too much of Great-grandmother’s homemade wine. When questioned about the matter after he sobered up, he wouldn’t say another word.

  “But when he’d been deep in his cups, he’d mentioned a map, one that Herman’s father purchased from a reputable antiquities dealer. He also mentioned that Herman’s father had a copy of the map made, saying he’d done so for safety reasons. The family then concluded, after Uncle Clyde wouldn’t speak of the matter, that he’d obviously been telling some rather large fibs—until the ship he was sailing on went down and he lost his life.”

  “That’s when I began thinking there really was a map, or at least a copy of the map, which I assumed Herman’s father left behind for safekeeping,” Perkins said. “And then, about five years ago, after I lost my position as under-butler at another house, I decided it was time to devote some attention to looking for that map because . . .”

  “If you found it, you wouldn’t have to live your life in a position you don’t particularly care for, given that the person who discovers El Dorado would become wealthy in the extreme?” Daphne finished for him when Perkins stopped talking.

  “Herman’s parents evidently believed there was a chance the map was real or else they’d never have gone off to look for El Dorado,” Perkins said.

  “They were adventurers,” Daphne countered. “Frankly, there was every possibility they knew they’d never discover that missing city but were unable to resist the lure of a good adventure.”

  “Be that as it may,” Perkins countered right back, “the map alone can fetch a handsome price, and there are many adventurers out there who’ll not balk at paying that price. If nothing else, my family deserves to reap some sort of benefit from the El Dorado situation. After all, my great-uncle lost his life in service to the Henderson family.”

  “I paid Clyde’s next of kin a handsome amount after I attended the service for him,” Mildred said, her eyes flashing. “And not that this has anything to do with that, but I would appreciate it if you, Perkins, would get this heavy shackle off my leg. I trust you still have the key?”