It was the second time Clio had heard that name today. More coincidences. Far too many.
“Did you know Tony?”
He shook his head. “No, but he was very close to Tim Keenan at the time. It was a boys’ club. I expect it still is. Lillian always suspected that Tim was moved to head up Art and Antiques to keep an eye on her after Pippa died. And FYI, Tim’s job should have been hers.”
Clio felt sick. She should have listened better to Lillian’s warning not to talk about the case internally.
Geoff said, “I see you’re shocked. I’m sorry. But if you’re here now, with me, it’s because Lillian wanted you to be, and it’s best you know everything so that you can protect yourself.”
Anya
As I walked back to the manuscript room I paid attention to security for the first time.
I noticed cameras everywhere, many of them positioned discreetly. I had no idea how to do what Mum wanted.
In the tower room, a camera was trained on the bottom of the spiral staircase. Its range included the table where I was asked to leave my devices, and I put my iPhone back there before going upstairs. The burner phone stayed in my pocket. Another lens was trained on the top of the stairs, and it seemed also to cover the door that led into the paneled room and the manuscript room beyond it.
Otherwise, there were no obvious signs of security, but the cameras might be hidden. I had to assume that they were watching what I did in those rooms.
I stood in front of the shelves of manuscripts and tried to think straight.
What had Mum said? Just that the binding was unremarkable, but she’d also asked me that strange question.
I’ve been wondering if you and Sid had considered getting a pet? It might be a lovely thing to do now that you’re settled. Viv saw a very nice black cat for adoption. It had beautiful lantern eyes.
It wasn’t a riddle, exactly. So, what did she mean? Black cats were associated with witches, everyone knew that. They appeared in all kinds of images. Should I be thinking of one I’d already seen? Was she asking me to use my memory? There were a few images I could recall that would match that description. Or was she referencing something in my dad’s collection? That felt the most likely.
The problem was, I’d only examined a few of the books this morning, and there were almost two hundred altogether. I began to pick out the ones with plain bindings and look through them, but, conscious of surveillance, I was careful not to rush. I tried to work methodically.
As I worked, I thought about the symbolism of the black cat. They were associated with witchcraft. Perhaps there was a witchcraft collection here. They could also symbolize sensuality, predatory skills, good or bad luck depending on the culture, darkness and shadows, sharp eyesight, a silent traveler, an emblem of the moon, or a shape-shifter. Black cats were charioteers for the Norse goddess Freya, the bearers of nine lives.
As I eased open the cover of yet another book, I also considered the lantern eyes Mum had described. Was that another layer of symbolism? The lantern represented safety, a sanctuary, a place to flee, sometimes a clandestine signal. Did it create another meaning altogether if I juxtaposed it with the cat? It was the sort of complexityMum enjoyed, but I was struggling to put the images together and find anything meaningful. What was I not seeing?
I finished looking through one shelf of books and started on the next. It was getting late. I didn’t know how long they would let me stay here.
The first three volumes on the new shelf were law texts, then there were two medieval gardening manuals, with illustrations of fruit trees, insects, butterflies, and birds that were delightful but not helpful to me. The next four volumes were medical texts. Again, no cats. There was a copy of an ancient gynecological manual calledThe Book of the Conditions of Women. I saw drawings of the female anatomy and descriptions of stomach-turning treatments for female ailments. There was an early Bible. No cats. No lantern eyes. I opened the second-to-last book on the shelf, feeling despondent.
It was a bestiary, a book of animals, real and mythical. On a first look, I noticed a colophon on the last page that told me it had originally been made for the library of a basilica in Galatina, in Italy, in 1452. Bestiaries were designed to illustrate the breadth of God’s creation, and it was a suitably luxurious book. I leafed through it, transfixed by the illuminations. Here was a whale, an elephant, a griffin, a unicorn, and here: a black panther. Its body was drawn in profile, but its head faced outward, yellow eyes staring into mine, a large rodent hanging limply from its mouth.
A black cat with lantern eyes. This had to be what Mum meant. There was no symbolism. She’d given me a literal description of an illustration. My stomach dropped.
I closed the book and examined the binding. It wasn’t original. I guessed that the bestiary had been written and illustrated in the fourteenth century, and the binding had been applied a few centuries later. Maybe in the seventeenth century. It was common practice to keep bindings like this on old books, even if they were later additions. But a lot of them needed restoration, which is where Mummust have come in. She’d done a superb job, and if I was right, there was a glossary hidden inside it.
It was a decent-size manuscript, and would be difficult to sneak out of the castle. I would have to open the binding and remove the glossary. But how?
A loud noise made me jump. A door slamming. Then I heard a soft knock on the door of the manuscript room before it opened slightly. Tracy’s housekeeper peered in. “I’m sorry,” she said. “We need everyone except essential staff off site because some of our guests are arriving sooner than we were led to believe. We need to take you home now.”
“Rightnow?”
“Our guests are people who prefer anonymity. Just like Tracy. So, if you wouldn’t mind?” It was a polite question, but her tone said that “right now” was exactly what they needed.
“I’ll pack up,” I said as normally as I could, but my heart was thumping. There was no way I could get the bestiary out now. I would have to come back.
She waited in the tower, leaving the doors between us open. She turned away from me as she looked toward the window. I swallowed. My mouth was dry with nerves. I was still holding the bestiary. If she turns back, I thought, I’ll reshelve it, but she didn’t. I draped my coat over my arm, so it covered the manuscript. I would take my chances, I thought, and try to walk out with it. It was reckless but I didn’t have any better ideas.
I left the manuscript room, shut the door behind me, and heard the lock click. “Ready,” I said, praying she couldn’t hear the fear in my voice.
As I followed her downstairs, I felt the camera’s eye on me. I knew it was possible that what I’d done had been seen already if someone was watching the security footage live, and I could feel a hand on my shoulder in the next few moments. Even if they reviewed it later, it was surely only a matter of time before they would comeafter me. Terrified of letting the coat slip from my arm, I picked up my phone and laptop awkwardly, but the housekeeper didn’t seem to notice. She was ahead of me, preoccupied with getting me out of there as quickly as possible.
