“I think so,” Byron said. “Though we ought to get a doctor just to be safe.”
“How did it happen?” Maureen said, voice shaky. “Where’sAdmiral Hoddle?”
Mira glanced at Byron, at a loss for words.
“We can explain everything, but can you send for a doctor first?” Byron said.
Maureen nodded, finally taking her eyes off of Castel as she rushed down the hall.
Mira rubbed at her arms, stepping into the room. “I never thought that he would be in any danger. I didn’t realize—”
“Neither did I,” Byron said. “And I should have known better.”
Maureen’s steps sounded down the hall, coming back.
“I don’t understand,” Mira said. “The only reason why Admiral Hoddle would do such a thing is if he knew who we were, but we’ve been so careful.”
“H-he did know,” Maureen said, stopping next to Mira, still bewildered. “Bertie Corbet told us last night.”
“He . . . what?” Mira said.
“Bertie was boasting about how he helped the famous Byron Constantine search Silas Treadway’s room and figured since the murder was solved that keeping it secret didn’t matter anymore.”
“Why didn’t you say something before?” Byron asked.
“Since you hadn’t told me yourself, I thought you’d rather I didn’t mention it. But what does that have to do with Admiral Hoddle?”
“You may want to sit down,” Mira said.
Maureen did as she was told, confusion and concern clouding her features.
“Your guardian is not who he said he was,” Byron said. “This may sound ludicrous, but he’s an operative working for a criminal organization intent on stealing political documents from your father’s papers.”
“Oh,” Maureen said, quite still. “You mean... that’s whateverything has been about?”
Mira nodded. “That’s why there were all those break-ins in London. And then your aunt. And now...”
“Yes. Yes. I see. This...” Maureen swallowed. “I’m sorry, that’s just a lot to take in.”
“I’m so sorry,” Mira said.
Maureen shook her head. “I knew something was wrong. There was always something off about him but I didn’t know what it was. Is... is this the reason my father was killed too?”
“I’m afraid so,” Byron said.
The tension in Maureen’s shoulders dropped and she let out a breath. “Well then.”
“Are you certain you are all right?” Mira asked.
Maureen frowned. “Somehow I feel better knowing the truth, awful as it is. I never understood why I was placed under Hoddle’s guardianship. Now I know.” She looked up at them. “It’s because of those documents you mentioned. You don’t suppose he found them, do you?”
“I doubt it,” Byron said. “If he had, I don’t think he would have been here to greet us this morning. He would have brought them straight to Circe and never returned. And all this,” he gestured to his brother, “would have been avoided.”
Castel mumbled something in his sleep.
“The question now is what is Hoddle up to?” Byron said. “He knows who we are and took the effort of dosing Castel, but where did he go and why? Circe wouldn’t give up on the documents so easily, not after searching for them for a decade. What’s his play?”
February 15, 1889: Afternoon
