The Case of the Missing Moonstone

by Jordan Stratford

  “Well, here it is. Beau stole the acorn,” said Ada with certainty.

  “Ada!” cried Mary. “We agreed to let Beau explain himself first!”

  “I assure you,” said Beau calmly, “I did no such thing.”

  “Honestly,” said Rebecca, “this can’t possibly be true.”

  Ada steeled herself. “Beau took the acorn. He just doesn’t know he took it. It was in the book—Havisham’s book. The acorn has the power of mesmerism. You can use the acorn to make people do things they wouldn’t normally do, and then not even remember they did it. Uncanny influence,” she added, with a nod to Mary.

  There was an awkward and uncomfortable silence, so Ada added, “That’s what ‘mesmerism’ means.”

  “So you’re suggesting the acorn made me steal it and I don’t remember?” asked Beau.

  “Rosie told us she saw you take it,” Ada explained. “She said you were carrying it and staring at it like something from your dreams. You were mesmerized. It explains everything.”

  “No, I’m quite sure it does not,” said Rebecca. “Even though it means that Rosie is innocent, as I’ve said all along. How could the acorn make itself be stolen?”

  “Aha!” exclaimed Ada. “That was the really fun part. Taking out the variables. I had too many.”

  “Vegetables?” asked Abernathy.

  “Variables,” corrected Ada. “Parts of a problem. I thought the problem had a certain number of parts, but really, it had fewer parts. It’s like putting a puzzle together with an extra piece. It doesn’t fit. I had one puzzle piece disguised as two pieces.”

  “That doesn’t make any—” started Mary.

  “I know. Sorry. Full of tigers,” continued Ada. “I was trying to put all these pieces together, and … oh, never mind. Look. Rebecca didn’t steal the acorn, because she had it already. Lady Verdigris didn’t steal the acorn, because she had it before and could have kept it. Rosie didn’t steal the acorn, because she saw Beau Datchery take it while he was mesmerized. Plus, there was a prison guard, and three men in fuzzy red hats, and a fishmonger. That’s where my secret weapon comes in.”

  “Secret weapon?” asked Peebs, suddenly recalling the Peebs cannon.

  “Anna Cumberland, my maid,” answered Ada. Mary clapped her hands with delight that Ada had finally learned Anna’s name.

  Just then, Anna entered the room. Abernathy began a sudden coughing fit, and turned away from the door.

  “Gracious,” said Lady Verdigris, “this is a most unusual school project.”

  “Miss Cumberland,” said Ada smartly, ignoring Lady Verdigris. “Do you recognize anyone in this room?”

  “I do, Lady Ada. I recognize Miss Verdigris, seated here.”

  “You recognize Rebecca from when she came to ask us for help,” added Ada.

  “Yes, Lady Ada. Plus one other person.”

  “Plus one other person. And whom else,” Ada said, making Mary happy with the m in “whom,” “do you recognize?”

  Anna pointed at Abernathy. “Mr. Flintwinch, the new fishmonger.”

  Abernathy gasped in pretend horror. “You are mistaken, miss. I am not a fishmonger. I am Mr. Abernathy, and I’m very rich.”

  “Oh, you’re the fishmonger all right,” said Ada. “When you handed me Havisham’s book, it smelled fishy. Exactly the same fishy smell that was on your fish knife, which you left at my house.”

  “This is ridiculous,” protested Abernathy. Lady Verdigris looked sternly at him.

  “Havisham ‘brought home’ the Acorn of Ankara from Turkey, where he was on an adventure. Only it was a national treasure, which means you can’t really ‘bring it home’ without stealing it. And I think he stole it with you,” accused Ada, looking straight at Abernathy. “There’s a picture of you in the book. But after you helped him steal it, he gave it to his sister, Lady Verdigris, and then left it to his niece, Rebecca, in his will.

  “So you pretended to be a rich friend of Havisham’s. Only you’re not rich. You just wanted to be close to the Verdigris family so that you could steal the acorn once it came out of the safe.”

  “At my birthday party,” said Rebecca.

  “Exactly,” said Ada. “Abernathy knew about the acorn’s power of mesmerism, and he used it to make Beau steal it for him. He only needed a minute alone with Beau and the necklace to make it work. Mr. Datchery, do you recall such a time?”

  Beau looked startled. “Well, now that you mention it, there was—”

  “Of course you do,” said Ada, satisfied. “Moving on.”

  “What would my brother—a gentleman—be doing in the company of a fishmonger?” asked Lady Verdigris.

  “He’s only a scoundrel who pretended to be a fishmonger. He was a sailor when he knew your brother—he’s dressed like one in the picture with Havisham—and then when he saw his chance to get the acorn, he became a ‘very rich gentleman,’ ” declared Ada. “And he pretended to be a fishmonger after our visit so that he could sneak into the house and snoop about. Whole place smelled fishy. As a sailor, he could get fish quick as anything.”

  “Absurd,” said Abernathy, who stuck his finger in his shirt collar, as though it were suddenly uncomfortably ill-fitting.

  “But why,” asked Mary, “wouldn’t Mr. Abernathy just run away once he had the pendant? Don’t criminals usually do that?”

  “He would have, but he’s being followed. By three men in red fezzes. He has to find the right place and time to make his escape,” answered Ada.

  “Which would be now!” said Geoffrey Abernathy Flintwinch Fishmonger as he ran past Anna, skated through the entrance hall, and bolted out the front door.

  “Come on!” shouted Ada, giving chase. Mary followed.

  As the girls came out the front door, they saw the thief leap onto a carriage and roughly shove the coachman into the street. With a snap of the reins, he dashed away in the stolen vehicle.

  Mary’s eyes widened in amazement, and she wandered into the road, watching the carriage disappear. Suddenly her arm was seized, and she was yanked back to the steps of Verdigris Manor—just in time. The rumble and great speed of the crushing omnibus was upon the girls, and Mary was shocked to find Ada clutching her arm.

  “Perfect timing! Come on!” Ada shouted once more. She ran to the back of the omnibus, as fast as her once-cherry velvet gown would allow, and leapt to the ladder at the back. Mary, close on her heels, also jumped for the ladder, almost missing the last step.

  Hand over hand, the girls climbed to the roof of the hurtling bus to see rows of benches and an assortment of men astonished at the sight of two young girls climbing onto the roof of a hurtling bus.

  As carefully as they could, Ada and Mary made their way forward, gripping the backs of the pitching benches, whipped mercilessly by the wind and a patter of new rain.

  “I see him!” exclaimed Mary, pointing at the carriage ahead. “He’s heading for the docks!”

  “I know,” said Ada, although the wind made it impossible for Mary to hear. She tugged the back of Mary’s dress to get her to turn around, and pointed behind them.

  Following the omnibus was another carriage, and out of its windows hung three men clutching three red fezzes.

  “Oh no!” cried Mary. “We’re being followed! Where does this bus go?”

  “To the docks,” answered Ada. “Hold on!”

  Both girls grabbed the wet iron railing as the galloping bus turned a tight corner, and the deck bucked, tossing them about like dolls. Ancient London house-fronts and warehouses fled by in a stony blur.

  Mary could see the horses that were pulling Abernathy’s carriage rear up and come to a stop. It seemed as though the bus were going to crash into the carriage, but the driver pulled his team of three horses up, and the girls rocked forward. Scrambling along the rain-wet deck to the rear, they found the ladder and shakily made their way down to the broad planks of the London docks.

  “Tickets, please,” said the bus driver, but the girls ignored him in th
eir haste to see where Abernathy was going. As they made their way around to the front of the bus, there stood Charles with two members of the constabulary, who were clapping the thief into handcuffs.

  “Well done, Charles!” shouted Ada.

  “Charles?” asked Mary. “How did you know to be here?”

  “Got an envelope, I did,” answered Charles. “From Lady Ada. Said to wait here with the constabulary, arrest a fishmonger disguised as a gentleman, driving a stolen carriage, and wait for the two of you to arrive by omnibus.”

  “Ada!” said Mary, who was once again astonished. “You planned this all along?”

  “I knew he’d make a run for it, and because he is a sailor, I knew he’d try to find a boat,” Ada explained. “Because he is a criminal, I knew he’d steal the fastest way out, and that was the carriage. And I knew where the bus went, and when it passed by Verdigris Manor. They publish the route and schedule in the newspaper.”

  “You set a trap?” asked Mary.

  “I set a trap.”

  “Good heavens, that was terribly clever of you.”

  “I know,” Ada replied. “I mean, thank you.”

  Mary smiled and nodded.

  Just then, a racket rose up behind the parked omnibus. Another carriage arrived, and out of it scrambled the three men in red fezzes. They quickly composed themselves and marched purposefully toward the constables, the thief, Charles, and the Wollstonecraft girls. Mary felt her pulse racing in her throat, unsure of what to expect.

  “Iyi akşamlar,” said Ada calmly to the three men in red fezzes.

  “Iyi akşamlar,” said the men in unison, tipping their hats with a choreographed bow.

  “I believe you’re looking for this,” said Ada, leaning forward and plucking something from the breast pocket of Abernathy’s waistcoat. Turning, she opened her hand to reveal a beautiful acorn pendant, which seemed to glow slightly in her palm even in the gray light of afternoon.

  “That’s mine!” yelled the thief, reaching for the jewel with his shackled hands. Ada noticed a flash of something on his forearm, a tattoo, letters. She still couldn’t make them out, but this was clearly the same man who had been in her kitchen. The constables, who were waiting for a wagon to haul away their prisoner, gave him a yank on his collar, and that seemed to shut him up.

  Ada carefully handed the jewel to one of the men in red fezzes, and he bowed graciously.

  “Çok teşekkür ederim,” he said.

  “Bir şey değil,” replied Ada, with a curtsy.

  “What’s all that?” asked Mary.

  “Turkish. I learned it last night.”

  “You learned to speak Turkish. Last night.”

  “Well, I learned to read it. I’ve only spoken it just now.”

  “You are quite astonishing, Lady Ada,” said Mary to her friend.

  “And full of tigers.” Ada smiled and took Mary’s hands, giving them a squeeze. “These gentlemen are the rightful owners of the Acorn of Ankara. I noticed outside the prison that one of them was wearing a medal—I looked it up, and it’s a diplomatic award from the Ottoman Empire. Turkey. Abernathy knew they were watching. That’s why he didn’t run away before now. But when we found him out, he didn’t have much choice.”

  One of the befezzed gentlemen produced a velvet case. Inside was a bed of silk, and the Acorn of Ankara fitted perfectly into a small hollow. When the case snapped closed, the three gentlemen smiled and tipped their hats to the Wollstonecraft girls.

  “I beg your pardon”—the bus driver approached the gathering—“tickets, please.”

  Mary and Ada looked at one another. “I’m afraid I don’t have any money with me,” said Mary.

  “Me either,” said Ada, checking her bag but finding only Havisham’s book. “I guess I didn’t think of everything.”

  “Perhaps I can be of some assistance,” said Peebs, out of breath. With no more coaches to hire or steal, and having missed the bus, he’d run several blocks before finding a cart that took him much of the way, and then ran the rest. Huffing and puffing, he paid the bus driver, who gave a nod and returned to the monstrosity.

  “Oh!” said Mary. “What of poor Rosie?”

  “Charles?” asked Ada with a raised eyebrow.

  “Handed it to the magistrate m’self, Lady Ada,” Charles replied. “When he read that the letter was from a ‘Lady Byron,’ he near tugged his forelock and gave the release order quick as you please.”

  “There you go. I presented all the evidence to the magistrate in a letter, which Charles delivered earlier. Rosie will be on her way home to Verdigris Manor as we speak.”

  “And did you mention in your letter to the magistrate that you are an eleven-year-old girl?” asked Mary.

  “I didn’t think to bring it up. It hardly seemed relevant to the case.”

  “But, Ada, this is brilliant,” said Mary. “You’ve solved the case!”

  “We solved it together,” said Ada. “If you hadn’t pointed out that rich people don’t talk about how rich they are, I never would have suspected that Abernathy wasn’t really rich—or really Abernathy. And I couldn’t have gotten to the prison, or to see Rosie, without you. So I never would have known that Rosie saw Beau take the acorn. And you and Charles found out about the uncanny influence of mesmerism.”

  “Together, then,” said Mary, giving Ada a serious nod. “But still, I’d imagined you swooping down in your balloon with a contraption of some sort, solving all of this with science.”

  “But this is science,” asserted Ada. “Wondering, guessing, trying, looking at things, sorting variables, guessing again. That’s how we did it. Science.”

  “I say,” interrupted Peebs. “Miss Cumberland and Mr. Franklin have returned to the Byron house. I suggest we do likewise.”

  “Agreed,” said Ada. “Oh, and Peebs?”

  “Lady Ada?”

  “You are remissed. Or missed. Whatever the opposite of dismissed is.”

  “Hired, I believe,” said Peebs.

  “Hired, then,” declared Ada. “As my tutor, so long as Mary can stay. Mother is away until after Christmas, and when she returns, she may throw you out herself if she likes. But until such time, do please consider yourself our tutor.”

  “I should like that very much,” answered Peebs.

  “Here. You can start with this.” From her bag she pulled the green book with the gold acorn on the cover.

  At this, the handcuffed Abernathy let out a frustrated howl. “There it is! I knew that stupid book would be a problem. I looked all over—”

  But the constables gave him another sharp shake and started hustling him away along the docks.

  Ada nodded, suspicions confirmed. She turned to Mary, put a finger to the side of her nose, and said, “Fishy.” Then she turned back to Peebs to finish her question. “What does this mean? De parvis grandis acervus erit.”

  “It’s Latin,” said Peebs. “ ‘From small things, great things will come.’ We have an English expression: ‘From little acorns, mighty oaks grow.’ Same meaning.”

  “Huh” was all Ada said. “Charles?”

  Charles nodded to Ada.

  “It’s good to have you here, officially,” she concluded.

  “Thank you, Lady Ada, for a bit of excitement. It’s back to the boot-polish factory for me.” Charles executed a small bow and headed to work.

  The girls smiled and thanked him and, hand in hand, followed Peebs to find a carriage for hire.

  “Who the dickens was that boy?” asked Peebs.

  And then everything went horribly wrong.

  A huge chuff sent a shot of black smoke up from the water as a round-bellied steamboat chugged to life. The two constables turned toward the distraction. Abernathy, still in irons, used the cuffs to strike the first constable in the head, knocking him down, and then sharply shouldered the second constable into the river with a resounding sploosh.

  Peebs turned at the commotion to see the thief leap aboard the little chugging
boat, scramble to the wheel, and overpower the captain, tossing him overboard with the constable. Mary and Ada watched, mouths agape, as Peebs ran to the dock’s edge. But Abernathy had gained control of the boat and was picking up speed.

  He was getting away!

  Peebs stood, frozen and frustrated. Mary watched the pistons rise and fall on the steam engine, heard the shuttle valve slam back and forth in rhythm. All the pipes and tubes reminded her of …

  “A carriage!” cried Mary, with a plan. “Quickly!”

  Peebs turned to her, puzzled.

  “Trust me!” implored Mary, and Peebs put two fingers to his lips and let out the most piercing whistle the girls had ever heard. A carriage appeared as if by magic.

  As fast and as dangerous as the omnibus had seemed, it was nothing compared to the banging flight of the carriage. They could hear the snap of the reins and the thundering of hooves on cobbles, and the whole thing amounted to a deafening roar of speed.

  “Have you any more money with you?” shouted Mary over the racket. Ada’s hands were bone white in Mary’s.

  “Yes, why?” asked Peebs.

  “Because I promised him a pound if he’d get us back quick.”

  “A pound?” said Peebs, horrified.

  “You did say alive, didn’t you?” asked Ada.

  A large stone beneath the carriage wheel sent the coach skyward, rattling the girls and Peebs like dice in a cup.

  Moments later, bones shaken, they arrived in front of the Byron house. Fortunately, Peebs did indeed have an entire pound with him, and he handed it over to the grinning coachman as the girls practically fled the coach, across the street, and up the stairs, Mary dragging Ada by the wrist like a doll through the front door.

  Peebs ran in after them and saw them both run halfway up the hallway stairs, then turn back down, brushing past him to the downstairs kitchen.

  “Fish knife!” yelled Mary down the hall. Peebs stepped back, and Mary and Ada once again whipped past the banister and up the stairs, this time with a wickedly sharp curved blade in Mary’s hand.

  “Wrench!” shouted Mary. Ada tore to her room and, after a few heartbeats of hurried rummaging, emerged with a giant wrench from under her bed.