“To keep her safe? From a threat?” I suggested.
“So it would seem. There was obviously a struggle here before the doctor was murdered.”
Brodie was thoughtful as he scanned the room, the overturned table, the instruments scattered about, and those blood stains.
A threat? For what purpose? And another piece of the puzzle for which there was no answer. Yet.
I carefully tucked the manuscript into my travel bag, along with the note. It might be of some comfort to Helen Bennett. Mr. Brimley had made his own notes about his observations which he handed to Brodie as we left.
The ride to Mayfair, after leaving Mr. Brimley, was a silent one. We were both lost to our own thoughts regarding what we had learned with our visit to that hidden office.
I wanted very much to know what the text in that manuscript meant, while Brodie needed to return to the Agency with what he had found at the murder scene, along with Mr. Brimley’s notes and my discovery of the manuscript.
“I would like to have Sir Reginald inspect the manuscript,” I told him, breaking the silence.
“He’s very knowledgeable and he may be able to tell us something important.”
Brodie agreed. “I will explain to Sir Avery.”
We arrived and the driver waited for him as I had stepped down from the coach in front of the townhouse.
“Ye will take care and not go off without my knowing.”
Under any other circumstances, I might have objected.
“I do want to call on Helen Bennett.”
“The note?”
I nodded. “She should have it. It may bring some comfort that his thoughts were of her.”
There was something more, but he obviously decided against it.
“Soropkin is somehow involved. He’s a verra dangerous man…”
“I’ll be careful,” I assured him. “Careful as a church mouse.”
“See that ye do. Until we know what this is about…”
“I can take care of myself,” I reminded him.
He gently touched my chin.
“That is wot concerns me.”
When he had gone, I made use of the shower compartment in the bathroom, a recent convenience that we had discovered had additional benefits…
Afterward, I placed a telephone call to Sussex Square and learned that Sir Reginald had already returned with museum staff and retrieved the panorama along with the two sarcophagi.
“As if I could not be trusted to have them returned,” my aunt commented, somewhat indignant.
I then inquired about Lily and was told that she was in the library with her latest tutor— she had somehow managed once more to send the most recent one off in a fit of despair, declaring that she was unmanageable and obviously quite ignorant.
“Can you imagine?” my aunt said with a chuckle.
I thought a diversion might be in order and decided to take Lily with me to the museum. I assured my aunt that it would be an excellent learning experience.
For her part, Lily was much in favor of anything that might free her from the drudgery of studies. Most definitely a girl after my own heart.
