“Well, that’s a relief,” Castel said, moving to sit in his preferred armchair. He picked up one of the papers that had been inadvertently scattered on the seat and scanned it as he satdown.
“And now that you’re feeling better, you can tell us what happened with Hoddle,” Byron said.
Castel’s gaze flicked up to him. “He got the drop on me, that’s all. I didn’t realize he’d put anything in the drink.”
“What were you talking about?” Mira asked, closing the encyclopedia in triumph.
“His time at sea. I was questioning him about it. Thought it might give us some insight into what he was up to.”
Byron’s expression blanked. “You knew that he was working with Circe, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why on earth did you think that was a good idea? It’s no wonder he poisoned you! Why, that might be why he went after Mary!”
Castel winced. “Please, lower your voice. My head is killing me.”
“You should be relieved it’s the only thing trying to kill you.” Byron returned to picking up the strewn papers.
A moment passed before Castel said, “Whoever wrote this is musically inept. Book 1 Op. 19b No. 1 is in EMajornot Eminor.”
Byron moved over and snatched the letter out of Castel’s hands, reading it over again. “I missed that. How did I miss that?”
Castel adjusted his hot water bottle. “Anyone familiar with Mendelssohn would know it.”
“Mr. Harris loved Mendelssohn,” Mira said. “He would have known immediately.” She picked up the deciphered message. “It must have been written incorrectly on purpose, to draw his attention to the key. It was a clue to help him with the cipher.”
“And we unwittingly stumbled upon it,” Byron groaned. “I should have noticed it before. We would have had it decodedmuch sooner.”
“You don’t suppose Mr. Harris solved the cipher before he died, do you?” Mira asked.
“If he did, Circe certainly wouldn’t still be looking,” Byron said. “No, he must have gotten hung up on one of the other clues. My guess is Haydn. The package was postmarked in Austria, so we can assume that the man who sent it, H.M., was Austrian. He would have been more familiar with Michael Haydn and his cipher. But Harris was English. It might have escaped his notice.”
“Poor man,” Mira said. “Spending all that time trying to decode the message, and then killed for it without knowing why.”
“I think it’s about time someone found out what H.M. was so adamant on protecting,” Byron said.
***
They reached Henrietta Street and Byron pulledout his lock picks, fully determined to break into the house to find the musical box. But before he could use them, he found that the door was already unlocked.
“Am I forgetting again? Because I distinctly remember Maureen locking it.”
Mira’s chest tightened. “So do I. You don’t think Hoddle came back, do you?”
“I don’t know. Stay behind me.”
The door creaked as they opened it. Every noise they made seemed amplified in the house. It wasn’t until they heard laughter coming from upstairs that either of them relaxed.
“That’s Walker!” Mira said, following the sound. They found Walker, Liza, and Maureen in one of the bedrooms. A steamer trunk was open in the center of the floor and they sat with the contents spread about them.
Walker looked up as they came in and grinned. “We were just wondering how we were going to track you down. I figured when you didn’t come home last night, Mouse, that you’d been out sleuthing.”
“Mrs. Sherard invited me to stay the night at the Royal Crescent. What’s all this?”
“I told them about Admiral Hoddle and the political documents,” Maureen said. “This morning, we thought we’d better do some investigations of our own. He brought this trunk with him when he came to be my guardian, and I always wondered what was in it.” She picked up a pamphlet and held it up.
Byron took it. “A playbill forPirates of Penzance?”
