“Perhaps the sender didn’t know?” Mira offered.
Maureen shook her head. “It was from my great-uncle and surely father would have written to let him know. I didn’t even know I had a great-uncle until we opened the package.”
“What was in it?” Byron asked.
“There was the sheet music, a letter, and the musical box over there on the credenza. Father gave me the musical box, and then locked himself in the music room for hours working on the piece. Of course, he spent more time poring over it than playing. That was only a few weeks before he died.” She swallowed. “So you see, that’s why I’ve been trying so desperately to learn how to play it. It’s the last connection I have to my father, really.”
Byron’s mouth twitched a little at the corner. “You wouldn’t happen to still have the letter, would you? It might have some insight into how to play it.”
Maureen’s eyes brightened, and she jumped up. “I neverthought of that! Yes, I have it in my room, if you’ll wait here.”
Once Maureen left the room Mira let out a laugh. “It’s the music. The music is the document.”
“It’s quite extraordinary. But of course, whoever sent it had to do it covertly. And I’m certain there are so many women named Elizabeth Harris in England. That’s why it’s taken Circe all this time to find out who had it.”
“Do you think Mr. Harris was decoding it?”
“I presume so.” Byron began playing a little tune from memory. “And with his connection to the Foreign Office, he would be able to deliver the information directly. But he died before he could decipher it fully.”
“What now?” Mira said.
He spun on the piano bench, facing her. “We need to convince Maureen to let us take it out of the house. It will take some work, but if we can decode it, we’ll have the information we need to hand over to the foreign office. Then, and only then, can we work to remove Maureen from Hoddle’s guardianship.”
Mira nodded. “Do you think—”
Maureen’s heels clicked down the hall and Mira fell silent.
“Here it is,” Maureen said, handing over an old sheet of paper.
Byron skimmed it, sitting next to Mira so she could read it too.
***
My dear niece,
I know how much you enjoy Mendelssohn, so I knew you would enjoy this little musical box. It plays one of his songs without words, Book 1, Op. 19b No. 1 in E minor. I always find that his music contains more than any words can convey.
Did you know that Franz Joseph Haydn had a brother?I used his work and Bach as inspiration for my own song without words. I’m worried that all I’ve done is created words without a song. If you would kindly give me your opinion on it and write me back.
Give my love to Sanford.
- H.M.
***
“What a strange little note,” Mira said.
“I thought so too,” Maureen said. “My mother didn’t play the piano. Why would he send her sheet music?”
“Do you know a Sanford?” Byron asked.
“That’s my father.”
Byron hummed again. “I do believe you were right about there being a hidden message here, Miss Harris.”
Maureen’s eyes widened. “Really? It isn’t just a jumble of notes?”
“Your great-uncle was quite obliging: ‘words without a song,’ suggests it isn’t meant to be music at all. Do you have some fresh paper and a pencil I could use?”
