“A sea monster,” said Allegra, nodding.
“A sea monster,” Miss Anning agreed. “Although, in this case, I imagine it’s a dolphin spine, seal flippers, a crocodile skull, and no small amount of paint and plaster.”
“It’s a fake?” Allegra asked.
“It certainly appears so from the drawing. I’ve been asked to verify and authenticate several pieces for the upcoming acquisition, Lot two twenty-one B included. Someone must have known that. As you see from my luggage, I have brought several specimens of my own to sell to the museum while I’m here. But nothing so grand as a complete ichthyosaur skeleton, counterfeit or no.”
“Tell me, Miss Anning, you mentioned unusual meetings,” Ada said.
“Yes. I received another message, this one from a young boy, a street urchin, I daresay, telling me to meet these ‘Sons of Bavaria’ on Learn Road. I had never heard of such an organization, nor even such a road in Dorset, and could not locate it on any map. So I was at a loss for how to respond. But while I was in line at the shops, I had the feeling that I was being watched, and sure enough, a large bearded man approached me and said, ‘Verify and authenticate,’ and then he left.”
“Sons of Bavaria…,” Ada mused. “Accent?” she asked.
“None to speak of,” Miss Anning answered.
“Bavaria is German. You’d think he’d sound German. Describe him,” said Ada.
“The fellow was tall, perhaps in his mid-thirties, and bearded. A bit scruffy,” explained Miss Anning.
“Sons of Bavaria…,” Ada muttered. “Sons of Bavaria. S.O.B. The S tattoo!” Ada was thinking back to their two previous cases. One involved a necklace stolen by means of hypnotism, and the other concerned an heiress nearly tricked into marriage by a scoundrel. Totally unrelated cases, and yet there was one connection: an inked letter S on the forearms of both villains. There was more to the tattoos, but that was all Ada had been able to make out….Perhaps the rest was O.B.?
Mary gave Ada an inquisitive look.
“Tattoo? Right forearm?” Ada asked Miss Anning.
“No, I’m quite certain. His sleeves were rolled up, and he wore an apron, like a grocer, and I did not see any tattoos.”
“So he was a grocer?” Allegra asked, confused.
“I don’t know for sure,” admitted Miss anning. “He could have had any number of reasons to have his sleeves rolled up.”
“Including showing you that he had no tattoo!” declared Ada.
Everyone looked around the room, more than a tad confused.
“I’m afraid that doesn’t make much sense,” admitted Mary quietly.
“Not yet,” Ada agreed, feeling a little uncomfortable at her own certainty, based on so little evidence. Indeed, the absence of evidence. “No matter,” she said, returning to the case at hand. “we need merely find the Sons of Bavaria, find the dog, reveal the ichthyosaur bones to be counterfeit, and keep Miss Anning’s scientific integrity from being compromised. Simple enough,” summed up Ada.
“All right, then!” said Mary, squaring her shoulders. “And when is the acquisition, Miss Anning? How long do we have?”
“Three days,” replied the burdened scientist. “The acquisition is in three days.”
“Ah.” Mary drooped.
Miss Anning left them her address at the Golden Alder Inn, promising to be in touch should she hear more from the dognappers. then she and Allegra returned up the elevator, leaving Mary and Ada alone in the gloom.
“My tummy’s funny,” said Ada.
“You must be exhausted. It’s your first venture out of bed in some time.”
“No, it’s—I’m not sure. Which is to say I am sure, but I shouldn’t be. About the S tattoo, I mean.”
Mary nodded. “You have a hunch.”
“A what?”
“Intuition. You can sense a connection between this case and our others, but you’re uncertain why.”
“I’m not enjoying it, the not-knowing-why bit,” said Ada. “I should know why.”
Mary thought back. “Do you remember, when we were visiting Newgate Prison, and we weren’t sure which hallway to go down?”
Ada nodded. Mary continued.
“You said then that we could pick one, and if we were wrong, the other hallway would still be there. And I must say it made a tremendous amount of sense at the time.”
“True,” admitted Ada.
“So, if this hunch of yours about the Sons of Bavaria having something to do with the S tattoos of our previous cases turns out to be incorrect, you are free to pursue other avenues, as it were.”
“Hmm,” said Ada, still discontent.
“A hunch is not a bad thing, Ada,” assured Mary.
Mary locked the lab’s door while Ada went ahead up the stairs, carrying a long brass tube with angled ends.
Ada listened at the door first and, hearing nothing, opened it a crack, poked the brass tube through, and peered into the other end. Inside the tube was a series of lenses and mirrors, and this allowed her to see over tall obstacles or, in this instance, around corners. The coast was clear.
Ada made her way down the deserted corridor and up the servants’ stairs. This led to the upstairs kitchen, and even if she were discovered there, and perhaps scolded for being out of bed, it was familiar enough territory for her.
Yawning, for she was very tired from both that morning’s leeching and her very brief adventure downstairs, she looked up and froze.
A pair of painted faces, one man and one woman, peered into the kitchen window from the back garden.
Brandishing her brass periscope, Ada roared and rushed to the window, startling the unusual couple, whose faces quickly bobbed out of sight.
And then Ada did something she had only ever done once before in her eleven-and-almost-twelve-any-day-now years of life.
She fainted.
Ada awoke in her own bed, surrounded by Mary, Anna, Mr. Franklin, and her ostrich of a grandmother. Her first sensation was of something hot and slimy being rubbed against her face, and an odd snarfling and grunting sound in her ear.
“She’s awake,” said Mary. “Are you all right, Ada?”
Ada looked at the pug, Charlemagne, who had decided all Ada needed was a good snot bath and perhaps some wheezy sniffing. He was quite pleased to see her wake up, because it proved he was correct.
“What happened?” Ada asked, pushing the dog away.
“You fainted, Lady Ada,” said Anna.
“Fainted?” Ada asked, indignant. “It’s those leeches.”
“Regardless,” said Gran, “when a young lady faints, she is to aim for the couch. Fainting on the floor is most unbecoming.”
“Aim for the…good grief,” said Ada.
“I’ve sent for Dr. Polidori,” said Gran. “Until he gives you leave, you are to remain in bed, and not get up under any circumstances whatsoever.”
“What if there’s a fire?” asked Ada.
“Don’t be impossible, child,” said Gran. “Stay in bed. I shall trust young Mary here to see to it.” Her eyebrows sent a very pointed message to Mary, who nodded at them, intimidated.
Lady Noel, Anna, and Mr. Franklin retired from the room, leaving Ada and Mary alone.
“Honestly, Ada, are you sure you’re all right?”
“It’s just the leeches. Coming up the stairs I got all woozy. And then…Oh!”
“Oh?”
“Oh! Painted people in the garden! At the window.”
“What are you going on about, Ada?” Mary asked.
“Peeping in the window. A man and a woman, in costume. They looked like dolls, or puppets.”
“And are you certain that—”
“That I didn’t imagine them? I’m woozy but I’m not bonkers. I ran at them with my periscope, and that’s when—”
“You fainted,” said Mary calmly.
“Leeches,” grumbled Ada.
“Well, do you think these doll people are connected to the Sons of Bavaria?”
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br /> “I don’t know. We need a plan. We need everybody. And I need a pencil.”
“Here,” said Mary, handing Ada a pencil and scrap of paper from the bedside.
Ada scribbled. “Send Anna to the chemist, and the tobacconist,” she said, and handed the paper to Mary.
“Tobacco snuff, and eucalyptus?” Mary said, reading.
“The sweet stuff in cough medicine. And I’ll need one of those fft fft things.”
“Fft fft?”
“You know, for plants.”
“A mister,” said Mary.
“Mr. who?” asked Ada.
“I think you’re very tired, Ada.”
“I think you’re right,” said Ada sleepily.
Mary smiled and walked quietly out of the room.
“Curious,” said Dr. Polidori the next morning, in his unplaceable accent. Ada supposed it was, in fact, placeable, as he said it in her bedroom, but she was certain there was more to the word than that.
“What is curious, Doctor?” Ada asked innocently.
“The creatures,” he said, meaning the leeches, of course. “They seem…disinterested.”
“I’m breakfast,” Ada answered. “They’re always interested.”
“Not today,” mused the doctor, concerned. “They seem almost repulsed by you.”
Ada supposed she ought to have been insulted by the idea of leeches finding her repulsive, but she wasn’t.
“Are they all right?” asked Ada, as if out of genuine concern. “Maybe I’m all out of fevered blood? You said they only liked that kind.”
“Hmm,” hmm’d Polidori, who began collecting the leeches with steel forceps and plopping them back in their glass jar. Clearly vexed, the bushy-eyebrowed doctor did not even say goodbye as he departed, staring into his jar of bloodsucking worms.
He did not notice the brass plant mister on Ada’s bedside, nor did he discern the faint scent of distilled tobacco, and eucalyptus.
Alone at last in her room, Ada smiled.
Ada and Mary slipped out of the house through the secret elevator an hour later. Gran hadn’t even emerged from her rooms yet this morning, assuming that Ada would still be in bed, being slowly drained.
“Are you sure you’re up to this, Ada?” asked Mary.
“Are you mad? I feel fantastic!” Ada answered. “Full of tigers, once again. Leeches…” She made a face. “I showed them.”
“You made a secret potion,” Mary surmised. “Out of the things Anna brought from the chemist.”
“There’s a book in the library on India. Loads of leeches there. And they keep them away with a topical tincture of tobacco and eucalyptus. Apparently, leeches hate the taste of the stuff.”
“I say, that’s terribly clever, if not entirely honest. And you are supposed to be getting better under your doctor’s care.”
“It was an experiment. Conclusion: Leeches are awful. No more leeches, full of tigers. QED.”
Mary did not have enough insight into medicine and leeching to offer an opinion on the matter, but she did respect the extraordinary talents of her friend.
“I dared not call for a carriage,” said Mary. “I thought we might find one on the way.”
“Oh, we can walk. It’s stopped raining. And it’s only a mile,” said Ada cheerfully. “And I love the smell of the earth after rain. There should be a word for it. Besides, I only have this spoon to carry.” Ada held up a rather tarnished old spoon she’d snatched up from the laboratory as they left.
Not knowing what to make of this, Mary changed the subject. “Well, do let me know if you’re getting tired. The last time you were out…”
“Last time we were out, we were solving a mystery and apprehending clever criminals.” They strolled eastward, arm in arm, and occasionally the brims of their bonnets clapped into one another, which made them laugh.
“Not so clever as dastardly, I daresay,” noted Mary.
“That’s just it,” Ada said. “I thought there’d be more solving and less running about.”
“Well, it’s crime, Ada. It is not as though you are playing chess, and your opponent merely concedes. These are villains. They do villainous things.”
“I like the chess-playing part.”
“We’re still doing quite well in the other part. The chasing-and-catching part. To Allegra’s credit,” Mary added.
“And Peebs,” included Ada.
“And Charles, of course,” remembered Mary. “And the constabulary, generally.”
“It does seem awfully complicated. It was just going to be the two of us,” Ada said as they turned the corner southward. Still a block north of their destination, Ada was delighted to find herself quite untired.
And yet.
The sky was perhaps a shade too blue, and the sun was just a smidge too bright off the white marble. As they approached the construction site of the museum, all the hammering, chipping, snicking, sanding, and dragging was becoming louder and sharper and scratchy in Ada’s eyes, in her ears, and on the underside of her skin, until the too-muchness of it all reached Ada’s chest, and she found it difficult, suddenly, to remember how to breathe.
“Ada?” Mary sensed something was wrong. Part of this was due to the fact that the younger detective had come to a sudden stop.
“My tongue,” Ada said.
“What of it?” Mary asked, concerned.
“Doesn’t fit in my mouth properly.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Not fine. Can’t breathe round it,” Ada snapped.
“It’s…you’ve been inside for quite some time, Ada. Outside is just taking some getting used to.”
Ada nodded, so Mary continued.
“And you’ve done outside loads of times. Long carriage rides all over London.”
“Bum-numbing,” Ada agreed, trying to catch her breath.
“Exactly. Let’s just take your mind off it.” Mary looked around for some kind of distraction, anything to redirect Ada from her mounting panic. But everywhere she looked were things belonging to the outside, such as trees, which would just remind Ada that she was not inside, where she’d obviously rather be. Mary looked at Ada herself.
“Spell ‘Ada,’ ” Mary said.
“A-D-A,” Ada replied with a quizzical expression.
“How many letters is that?” Mary tried.
“Three,” answered Ada. Mary wondered where to go with that and then remembered. “Three’s a…prime number, isn’t it? One of those ones you can’t cut in half properly or something.”
Ada nodded. “Divisible only by one, and itself.”
“But there are others, though, correct?” Mary tried.
“Two, three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen, seventeen, nineteen, twenty-three, twenty-nine, thirty-one, thirty-seven,” said Ada, all in a rush.
“And it’s also a part of a sequence, isn’t it? Three, I mean. When you add a number with the number before it?”
“Fibonacci,” Ada said calmly. “Yes: one, one, two, obviously. Then three, five, eight, and five plus eight is thirteen, and thirteen plus eight is twenty-one. It’s quite simple.”
“I daresay, Ada,” said Mary cautiously. “You seem to be breathing quite well.”
“Huh,” Ada huh’d approvingly. “So I am. Let’s press on.” And so they did.
In the square in front of the old museum, the new building was taking shape all around them.
“Now, the acquisition is in two days,” said Ada. “If I were a clever criminal—”
“Or dastardly,” interrupted Mary.
“Or dastardly,” agreed Ada, “I would want to keep an eye on things. So we must keep our eyes open for eyers as well as artifacts.”
“Right,” agreed Mary. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“I’m sorry, ladies, but the museum is closed for a private tour,” said the guard.
“Oh, that’s all right,” said Ada. “We’re not here to see the museum.” Mary tried to look not too obviously puzzled.
She also tried not to look overly sorry for the guard, and whatever was about to happen to him.
“No?” replied the guard. “That’s just as well, then.”
Ada smiled her most innocent smile, and never stopped smiling in a very pointed fashion.
“Erm,” the guard continued. “May I be of some other assistance?”
“Indeed, you may. You may open the door, please,” said Ada confidently.
“Ah, you may recall, young lady, our previous conversation in which it was established that the museum is closed.”
“Excellent, yes, I do recall,” replied Ada.
“So, erm, well,” sputtered the guard. “That’s a no, then, on the door.”
“But we are not here for the museum.”
“No?” asked the guard. “Then what are you ’ere for?”
“Well, that’s quite a large question, isn’t it? Metaphysical, really. I’d love to discuss it with you sometime, perhaps over tea, but right now, we really must be getting on,” said Ada.
“What—” began the guard.
“No, ‘what’ is simply too big a question. Try ‘who.’ ”
“Who?” hazarded the guard.
“And perhaps ‘why,’ ” added Ada.
“Why?” said the guard.
“That’s better. We are here to present a valuable historical artifact to the director of acquisitions.”
“And what valuable ’istorical artifact might this be, miss?” inquired the guard, unsure if he was supposed to be impressed or not, and pretending a little just in case.
Ada presented her spoon with a flourish. “This magnificent specimen was once the Royal Tablespoon of the Court of Eleanor of Aquitaine.”
“Ah,” said the guard. He paused for a moment. “Ellie who then?”
“Certainly you are familiar with the queen of England from 1154 to 1189? The most adept stateswoman of the Middle Ages? The mother of Richard the Lion-Heart?”
“Richard the Lion-Heart?” said the guard, now sincerely impressed. “Blimey. And that’s his spoon.”
“His mother’s spoon. She was an extraordinary figure in her own right. You should at least—” Ada was gathering steam.
The Case of the Counterfeit Criminals Page 4
