“I didn’t sleep well— Wait, what?”
“You better get dressed. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Ransacked?”
“Get dressed. Now. Come downstairs immediately after.” He spun on his heel and went back down the stairs.
“Right.” Something of Kit’s urgency finally penetrated my thick skull and I tossed last night’s clothing into a pile to be dealt with later. I struggled into fresh breeches and tugged on a clean shirt as I made my way down the steps, two at a time.
I turned the corner too quickly and nearly smacked into the door as it opened. I glared at Kit, who held it open for me, before I stepped around him. Finally his frantic banging and harried countenance made sense.
My office was… destroyed. Pages were tossed about, the cabinet knocked over and smashed open.
And it was only my office. Beside it, Kit’s was untouched. The trunks we kept behind the clerks’ desks, too, were unscathed.
There was no telling what they had taken, or if they had taken anything at all. I could barely comprehend the sight before me. My entire life’s work… It was more battlefield than office.
“Will…” Kit began from behind me.
“I don’t— I have no idea. It was fine after I left last night.”
“Someone was looking for something, Will.”
“I suppose we’ll find out when we determine what’s been taken.”
Nothing was left to do but settle on the floor and begin stacking documents by account while Kit moved around me, picking up the scattered pieces of the broken cabinet.
The clerks began to arrive, one irritating clang of the bell after another. Each had his own astonished exclamation before Kit directed them to account for all of their files.
“What happened here?” Bates asked, bolder than the others. He peered into the office with interest.
“Break-in,” Kit answered from behind him. “Will, can you take a quick look at the overall list of accounts to see if it’s up to date?”
“Of course, anything.” I scrambled off the floor with what was left of my dignity, ignoring the ache in my ribs from two days past.
“You can use my office. Sorting out this mess is going to call for a whole batch of those little cake things.” He tossed a coat on and set off toward Hudson’s.
“Do you want me to continue sorting, sir?” Bates asked, toeing my pile.
“No. I need to see it all if I have any hopes of finding what they took. If anything, I suppose.”
I shut Kit’s door behind me, taking his usual seat, and cracking open his ledger. He returned shortly and set a little cake thing on the corner of his desk.
“How are you getting on?”
“I think we’re all accounted for.”
“Good,” he said, licking the excess frosting off his finger.
“Can you use a napkin?”
“And waste perfectly good frosting? I think not… I locked the door last night, Will. I know it.”
“I know you did. I couldn’t sleep. I came down to do a bit of work and all was well.”
“What time was that?”
“Twelve thirty, perhaps one. But I locked it too. I’m certain of it. Why would someone break in?”
