by C. J. Archer
"But it does march splendidly. The legs get so high. Here, Mrs. Glass, tell me what you think. How strong is the magic?" Mrs. Landers handed it to me. "I bought it just last month off a fellow."
"Who?" Lord Coyle asked.
"No one you know," Mrs. Landers said, cheekily.
"You mean he's not officially on our list of magicians?" Mr. Delancey asked.
"Then you must add him," Mrs. Delancey declared.
"Perhaps she wants to keep the name to herself to ensure his prices are kept low," Lord Farnsworth said.
Mrs. Landers just smiled at them all then turned to me. "Well, Mrs. Glass? What do you think?"
"It's well made," I said. "The face is particularly fine. But I'm afraid it's not magical." I handed the toy back to her.
She stared at me. "Of course it is." She pressed the toy into my hands. "Touch it again."
I cradled the drummer boy for a moment then shook my head. "There's no magic warmth in it. I am sorry."
She fondled the diamond pendant at her throat. "That can't be! I bought it from a toy maker in Bond Street. He has very fine pieces."
"Unless he's on our list, he's not a magician," Lord Coyle said.
Mr. Landers stepped up alongside his wife. "There must be dozens of magicians not on your list, Coyle. Most are in hiding, like Mrs. Glass. If my wife says she bought this toy from a magician, then he was a magician."
"He could have lied to her," Mrs. Rotherhide said sympathetically. "Never mind, dear, it has happened to many of us."
Mrs. Landers blinked back tears and her chest rose and fell with her rapid, ragged breathing. She turned watery eyes to the back of the room. I followed her gaze and spotted the butler, standing with his back to the door.
"Refreshments will be served," he said smoothly. "If you could all make your way to the supper room."
It was the hostess's duty to make the announcement, but Mrs. Landers didn't seem in any state to do it. Even so, the butler should have remained quiet. Indeed, the refreshments hadn't yet arrived.
Although we all followed his orders, it was another four minutes before the train of footmen brought in champagne, hot chocolate, tea, lemonade, sandwiches, sugared fruit, and cake on silver platters.
Matt and I were separated. He was cornered by Mr. Delancey and two of his friends, while I was surrounded by Mrs. Delancey, Louisa, Mrs. Rotherhide, Lord Farnsworth and two others. They peppered me with questions while Mrs. Delancey and Mrs. Rotherhide made sure my plate was always full and my champagne glass exchanged with another as soon as it was empty.
Louisa was the only one not paying me much attention. She was distracted by Fabian and Oscar, talking quietly alone in the far corner. Sir Charles joined them and she soon peeled away and wandered over there too.
"Poor Mrs. Landers," Mrs. Delancey whispered. "She looks quite upset by your discovery, Mrs. Glass."
Mrs. Landers did indeed seem upset. She finished her second glass of champagne and immediately reached for another. Her husband spoke quietly to her, but upon her fierce glare, he moved off. She stood alone, fussing over the refreshments, moving platters back and forth and rearranging the sandwiches. She looked in despair.
"What do you know about her?" I asked.
"Not a great deal," Mrs. Rotherhide said. "She comes from money and married into money. Her family only came to London that one season to find her a husband. She succeeded and they returned to the country, never to be seen again."
"She's quite a little doll," said Lord Farnsworth. "Wish I'd beaten Landers to the punch, but I wasn't attending balls back then. Too busy with other things and not interested in marriage."
"I doubt she would have been interested in you," Mrs. Rotherhide said.
Lord Farnsworth looked offended. "Why not?"
"Too young." She winked and he laughed.
"Very true, Mrs. R, very true."
"How did her family make their fortune?" I asked.
"Trade, I s'pose," Lord Farnsworth said with disinterest.
"What sort of trade?"
He shrugged. "Finance?"
Mrs. Delancey shook her head. "Her husband is in finance, but her family isn't, or they would be in London more often." She leaned in. "India, are you suggesting they're magicians and made their fortune in manufacturing?"
"It's possible," I said. "It would explain her interest in magical objects."
"It would also explain how she knows about magic in the first place," Mrs. Rotherhide said.
"How did you become interested in magical collections?" I asked her.
"My husband was a collector. I took over his collection after he died, but I haven't added to it."
"Mrs. R doesn't see the value in trading," Lord Farnsworth explained. "Neither does Lord Coyle. They both hoard. Mr. and Mrs. D, and most others in the club, will trade if the price is right."
Mrs. Rotherhide smiled sadly. "I simply haven't got the inclination since my husband died. Perhaps one day."
"Let me know when that day comes," Lord Farnsworth said, quite seriously.
"Do you display your collectibles for all to see?" I asked Mrs. Rotherhide. "Or do you keep them in a locked cabinet like Mrs. Landers?"
"In a trunk in the attic with my husband's things."
"The attic!" Mrs. Delancey cried.
"Negligent," Lord Farnsworth muttered into his cup of chocolate.
"And what about you, my lord?" I asked him. "Are yours on display?"
"Also locked away. Got to keep 'em safe. Can't trust the maids not to knock 'em off their perches."
"Tosh," Mrs. Delancey said. "Don't employ clumsy maids."
"Do you trade frequently?" I asked him.
"Certainly. I'm a gambler, you see. Horses, cards, company stocks, art and collectibles. But I keep it all locked up somewhere safe. The collection only comes out when I want to trade. Don't want a thief coming in and stealing it, like poor old Lord—whoever."
"Quite right," Mrs. Rotherhide said. "You ought to be careful, Mrs. Delancey. You wouldn't want the same thing to happen to one of your pieces."
Mrs. Delancey waved a hand. "Our house is very secure and our butler has excellent hearing. There's no possibility of someone sneaking in at night when he's on duty."
I sipped my champagne and watched Mrs. Landers again as she drained her third glass. Her husband ought to stop her. She'd begun to sway.
But Mr. Landers was paying her no attention, caught up in conversation as he was with Sir Charles Whittaker.
"What about Sir Charles?" I asked my companions. "Does he like to trade his collection?"
"Hoarder," Lord Farnsworth declared.
Mrs. Delancey agreed. "I've never seen it."
"He only has two items," Mrs. Rotherhide said. "A wooden statue of a dog and a cast iron candlestick. He doesn't hide them. The candlestick even had a half-burned candle in it. It was some months ago when he showed them to me in his parlor. He might have added to his collection since then."
Lord Farnsworth waggled his pale eyebrows. "Some months ago, eh? Why have you seen his collection and not the rest of us? What makes you so special?"
Mrs. Rotherhide sipped her champagne, ignoring him.
Mrs. Landers suddenly swayed rather violently. She caught herself on the edge of the table, thankfully. No one seemed to notice.
I made my excuses and joined her. "Are you all right?" I asked.
She gazed in my direction but didn't appear to see me. "Mrs. Glass?" Her words slurred. "Mrs. Glass, how kind of you to come tonight." She hiccupped then swayed again.
"I think you should sit down."
"Not here." She looked around. "They all pity me. They think me stupid. Even my husband." Her lower lip wobbled. "I want to go home."
She was on the verge of tears and people were beginning to stare. I had to get her out. "Will you walk with me to the ladies' dressing room?" I asked.
She nodded and took an uncertain step. I clasped her hand tightly. She gave me a wobbly smile and took another
step forward.
"Are you from a magical family?" I asked as we headed out.
"No. Why?"
"I was curious about your interest in collecting magical objects. Your husband doesn't seem all that keen."
"It's my hobby. I was in love with a carpenter magician back home." She sighed. "I wasn't allowed to marry him, though. He was too poor. He didn't use his magic to enhance his woodwork. It was something he kept for himself and his loved ones." She smiled wistfully. "Shhh. Don't tell my husband."
"The carpenter carved that little wren for you, didn't he?"
"Isn't it lovely?" Her eyes filled with tears. "It's all I have of him. All I'll ever have. I was made to marry Mr. Landers, which I know is for my own good and I don't regret it. Truly, I don't. He indulges me, and puts up with my silliness. What more can a wife ask for?"
I thought it best not to add to her woes by telling her my opinion of marriage was the opposite. She was very close to bursting into tears already. "May I ask how your father made his fortune?" It was a terribly crass question. Aunt Letitia would be horrified.
But Mrs. Landers either didn't mind or was too drunk to care. "The railway. He speculated at the right time."
That solved that mystery.
We reached the door to the dressing room, flanked by potted palms. The butler hovered nearby, watching us. Or rather, watching Mrs. Landers.
"Why did you have to tell everyone?" she whined. "Couldn't you have waited until we were alone?"
I wondered when she'd remember and blame me for her failed party. It was time to make my excuses. "I am sorry," I said. "You're right, I should have waited until we were alone to tell you about the toy drummer."
"Everything is ruined. I hate it here. I want to go home." She burst into tears.
I stepped toward her to comfort her, but the butler pushed me out of the way. He took her into his arms and she sobbed into his chest.
"Wentworth," she gasped out. "Oh, Wentworth, if it weren't for you, London would be unbearable."
I shouldn't listen to their private exchange. It wasn't kind to take advantage of Mrs. Landers in her inebriated state. I disappeared into the dressing room but put my ear to the door. It might be unkind, but eavesdropping was a necessary evil of investigative work.
"Don't cry, little one," the butler said in deep, sonorous tones. "I'll take care of you. Of everything." After a pause, he added, "I have something that will make you feel better."
"A present?" she asked weakly.
"A fine present. I'll show it to you later, but only if you dry your tears now. Good girl."
"What is it?" she asked. "What's my present?"
"Ah, now, I can't tell you or it won't be special. Meet me in your sitting room after everyone has gone. I'll give it to you then. Now, dash away your tears and join your guests. And stop drinking the champagne. Give me a smile. There's my pretty girl. Off you go and don't let them see you upset. "
I raced away from the door and just managed to slip behind a privacy screen before Mrs. Landers entered. She hummed through her ablutions then left again. Either she'd forgotten I was there or was pretending to forget.
I opened the door and checked the vicinity before leaving. As I closed the door behind me, I glanced at the staircase. Could the butler's gift be the coronet, stolen to win her affection? He was in love with her, that much was clear. And while she seemed to be fond of him, it was more of a daughter's fondness for a father figure. He might hope to win her over with a special gift, and nothing could be more special for Mrs. Landers than the magical golden coronet.
It must be hidden somewhere, but I couldn't bring myself to race up the stairs and search his room for it. The servants might all be busy downstairs, but it was too risky. I didn't know which room was his, anyway.
I re-entered the drawing room and joined Matt as he spoke with Lord Farnsworth. Soon after my arrival, guests began to leave. They left in great numbers, even though it wasn't late. Mrs. Landers plastered a smile to her face, but she must feel the slight keenly.
It was all my fault. She was right. I should not have told everyone her toy drummer held no magic.
Matt and I gave our leave, as did Lord Farnsworth. As we waited for our carriages to arrive, he tapped Matt on the arm.
"Don't s'pose you could put in a good word about me to your mad cousin, eh, Glass?"
Matt waited for more, or perhaps for Lord Farnsworth to admit he was joking, but Lord Farnsworth merely smiled back at him. "If you wish," Matt finally said.
Our carriage arrived and we climbed in. Lord Farnsworth saluted as we drove away. "Do you think he's serious?" Matt asked.
"He seems so," I said. "He wasn't laughing."
"I've met some odd people over the years," Matt said. "I'm even related to some. But he's got me baffled."
"He's just a cheerful idiot."
"How has he managed to keep his fortune? Cheerful idiots usually gamble it all away or get swindled. By all accounts, he's doing all right for himself."
"Well enough to keep a courtesan."
"I asked him about his coachman," Matt said. "I told him I was looking for a new one and heard he'd just dismissed a fellow. I lamented the difficulty of finding reliable staff and he lamented the difficulty of finding discreet servants. He said he dismissed the coachman for not keeping his mouth shut about Farnsworth's private business."
"A visit to Lord Cox's in the middle of the night, perhaps?"
We discussed the evening all the way home, and both came to the same conclusion. Aside from being a very strange night, we'd learned a little but not quite enough to narrow down our list of suspects. Neither of us could draw any definite conclusions. At least we had some ideas for where the coronet might be.
Upon our return home, Matt sent Bristow to bed and we stayed up with Duke in the sitting room. We were about to tell him everything we'd learned when Willie arrived.
"I was with Angelique again," she said, pouring herself a whiskey from the drinks trolley.
"You didn't get arrested this time," Duke noted.
She smacked the top of his head as she passed him. "We got a room at a hotel near Kings Cross. She had to get back to her apartment, on account of Lord Farnsworth was planning to meet her at midnight after the Landers' party. Find out anything?" she asked.
"Quite a bit," I said. "All of our suspects were there. Your Mrs. Rotherhide was the nicest person in the room, Duke."
He smiled. "I reckon I'll visit her tomorrow night."
"Don't get all soft on her, Duke," Willie said. "I know you, and you're the sort that falls in love with every woman you been with, and some you ain't."
"Do not," he muttered into his glass.
"She's a society lady, and you ain't got two bob to your name. You can't offer her anything."
"Can't I?" he said with a dimpled smile.
She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."
"It's just a bit of fun, Willie. You mind your business, and let me mind mine."
"Fine." She drained her glass and got up to refill it. "So you don't reckon it's Mrs. Rotherhide who stole the coronet?"
"She doesn't strike me as a thief," I said. "But my instincts haven't always proven reliable in the past, so I'll keep an open mind. What I did learn was that she keeps her magic collection in the attic. She never gets it out to show anyone. If she did steal the coronet, she probably stored it in there with the other pieces."
Willie pointed her glass at Duke. "So all you got to do is look around the attic."
"I ain't doing that. She trusts me."
"See! I knew you'd get all soft. She's your target, Duke. Investigation first, fun later."
Duke's shoulders slouched. "I don't want to betray her. I like her, and I don't think she did it anyway."
"Willie's right," Matt said. "If you get the opportunity to look in the attic, you should take it."
Willie shot Duke a triumphant look. He scowled back at her.
"On the other hand," Matt went on, "y
ou most likely won't get the opportunity. There are too many servants, all of whom will live in the attic rooms. Sneaking around will be impossible."
"Aye," Duke said, nodding.
"Soft," Willie muttered as she resumed her seat.
"As to our other suspects," I said, "both Lord Farnsworth and Mrs. Landers seem very likely candidates. Or I should say, the Landers' butler." I told them how Wentworth seemed to be in love with her and had promised Mrs. Landers a special gift. "It could be the coronet," I finished. "He could have stolen it for her, as a love token."
"And you reckon I'm deluded," Duke said to Willie with a shake of his head. "Mrs. Landers ain't going to leave a comfortable life to run off with the butler."
"I don't think she's in love with him," I said. "It's more likely she relies on him, as a girl relies on her father. I'd say she has done so for much of her life."
"He's definitely a suspect now," Matt said. "But I don't see how we can find out if the gift he gave her is the coronet."
We fell into silence, each of us considering how we could learn more. I discarded every idea that came to me as being too risky.
"What about Farnsworth?" Duke asked. "You said he's still a suspect, India."
"Despite being one of the silliest men I've met," I said, "we can't rule him out. He seems to have a knack for gambling and trading. He'd know the value of a magical golden coronet the moment he read about it. The problem is, we don't know where he keeps his magical items."
"Hopefully Cyclops will have some news on that front," Matt said.
Willie tapped her finger against the tumbler, frowning, "What I want to know is, how did any of them find out Lord Cox had the coronet in the first place? The article didn't name him."
She was right. If we learned that, we'd learn the key to the mystery.
Matt suddenly sat forward. "If I were a collector of magic artifacts and I read that article, the first thing I'd do is approach the newspaper and bribe someone into telling me who gave them the information. That’ll lead them straight to Longmire."
"You're suggesting we do the same," I said. "Only we'll ask the columnist the identity of the person who approached him."
He raised his glass in salute. "We'll visit the office of the newspaper tomorrow. India, shall we retire?"