Constantine Capers: The Pennington Perplexity

by Natalie Brianne

  “Yes. He hates airships in general.” She looked up at him.

  “I’ll be sure to avoid that subject; however, we may want to consider telling him the truth, as it is usually more believable.”

  “Perhaps he will just let me stay without questioning anything.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Nero slept peacefully on her lap, blissfully unaware of his owner’s anxiety. The hansom cab came to a stop in front of the house. She bit her lip in nervous apprehension. Byron paid the driver and then helped her out of the cab. She hesitated on the sidewalk. She started up the stairs, but the door opened before she could get to it.

  “Miss Mira, what a pleasant surprise!”

  “Landon!” She ran up the steps and gave the butler a hug. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him. For the first time in the last few days, she felt entirely safe and protected. Landon returned the hug, surprised. Byron stood at the bottom of the steps a bit awkwardly. Landon stepped away from her and looked at Byron.

  “Will you introduce me to your friend?”

  “Of course. Landon, this is Byron Constantine. Byron this is Landon, our butler and one of my dearest friends.” She smiled at them both.

  “And how did you two come to be acquainted?”

  “Miss Blayse is my secretary, sir. Originally we kind of bumped into each other.”

  “Well, I am astonished to hear you are a working girl now Mira! Now come in! I’m sure that your uncle would love to see you. Especially after you left so suddenly last Sunday. We’ve…” He cleared his throat. “Your uncle has been worried.” He went back up the stairs and opened the door.

  “I’m so sorry about that. I simply lost track of time and had another engagement.” She followed him and looked back at Byron to ensure that he did the same.

  She set Nero down on the floor, and he scampered off to find a mouse to watch. Landon glanced back at her suitcase.

  “Are you going to be staying for long miss?”

  “I was hoping to. Of course, I’ll have to ask Uncle Cyrus.”

  Landon nodded and then knocked on the door to the study. After a moment, he opened the door and entered, closing it behind him. She could hear his voice slightly muffled through it.

  “Your niece is here, sir, along with her employer.”

  “Employer?”

  “Yes sir. Shall I show them in?”

  “Yes Landon. Do that.”

  Landon returned to the hall and opened the door for them.

  “Mira!” Her uncle stood and came over, arms outstretched for a hug. She placed her suitcase on the ground and embraced him. The feeling of protection remained, but her anxieties returned as she tried to think of an explanation. At the very least, he seemed to be in a good mood.

  “How is my favorite niece?” He pulled back from the hug to get a better look at her.

  “I’m your only niece, Uncle. And I’m well.”

  “Well, since you’re my only niece, that makes you my favorite.” He smiled. Then the smile disappeared. His tone turned serious and almost threatening. “Where have you been? Last Sunday you left without saying goodbye! I’ve been worried.”

  “I’ve been working. And last week I simply had forgotten about another engagement.”

  Her uncle looked past her to Byron. “This must be your employer?”

  She nodded. Byron moved forward and offered a hand. Her uncle ignored it, but Byron introduced himself, nonetheless.

  “Byron Constantine, at your service, sir.”

  Cyrus looked back at Mira. “I didn’t realize you were looking for a job, Mira. Don’t I give you enough allowance?”

  “You have given me more than enough. I simply need something to occupy my time. With an allowance comes quite a bit of room for boredom, and I’d like to make more out of my life, so to speak.”

  Her uncle gave her half a nod and frowned turning back to Byron.

  “And what is your line of work?”

  “I’m a private detective sir. I work with Scotland Yard.”

  Byron looked at Mira and then began to tell her uncle the entire story. How they met, his memory problem, the facts of the case, her kidnapping, the death threats, most everything. Mira closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes again and bit her lip looking between Byron and her uncle. The only part that was left out of the narrative was the fact that they had been flying on the airship, although he did mention they had gone to explore it for clues. Meanwhile her uncle stayed silent. Pensive. Watching both of their actions and smoking his pipe. After Byron finished, Cyrus sat there quietly for a few minutes, which caused Mira anxiety beyond belief. When he spoke, his voice was soft, but angry.

  “You are never to have any contact with this man again, Mira. Do you understand?”

  “But Uncle—”

  “Don’t you ‘But Uncle’ me. I’ve already lost your mother, I’m not going to lose you by having you gallivanting all over the countryside, following this,” He glanced at Byron for a moment, “Charlatan who pretends to be a detective. Haven’t you been reading the paper recently? It isn’t safe.”

  He had every right to be distressed. Despite this, she wished that she could make him understand how crucial her work with Byron was. She looked at Byron. He was taking his abuse rather well. He was stoic. But his response shocked Mira.

  “I’m saddened to hear you say that sir, and I see your point. However, I think you have missed ours.”

  “Oh? Enlighten me then.” Her uncle was still livid. Byron continued, carefully.

  “First, allow me to demonstrate that I am not a charlatan. In fact, I am rather good at my trade, hence Scotland Yard’s interest in my help. You see, I use observations to make deductions about the world. For instance, I observe that you are ambidextrous, like your niece is. I also observe that you have made several journeys to India, and that your trade is in mercantile goods. You are a merchant, and you used to take the trips yourself, but I assume that when your sister and her husband died, you stopped in order to take care of their twins. However, you have always preferred the ships that travel by water, whether the accident had happened or not. It just made you dislike them more.”

  “How in the world?”

  “You have tobacco powder on both hands and have switched your pipe between your hands several times as we’ve been talking. Hence, ambidextrousness. You have several maps of the world with the trade routes to India marked and have several artifacts from India on your shelves. You are affluent, and if you have been to India several times, it is likely that you are a merchant. It was simply a guess that you stopped making the trip yourself after the accident. Also, you have models of standard ships in your front hall, and a few books on nautical travel behind you. So, no, I am not a charlatan.”

  “Mira could have told you all of that before you came here.”

  “But she didn’t.”

  “Is this true?” Her uncle turned to her. She nodded. He frowned, thinking.

  “But she is still in danger because of you. She’s been kidnapped and had death threats. That’s more of a luxury than many other murder victims have had recently,” Cyrus gestured to the newspaper on his desk.

  “Yes, and I have pointed that out to her several times sir, however she insists to continue.”

  “Why?” Her uncle’s voice sharpened, and he turned to her. Mira cleared her throat.

  “This is my decision to make. I have decided to continue despite everything because,” She glanced at Byron before continuing. “If I stop that will be exactly what they want me to do. Whoever, or whatever is doing this will have won. They can break into Byron’s again and steal his journal, corrupt his facts, deter the path of justice, and continue to murder and smuggle and do whatever it is that they’ve been doing. But if I work with him, I can be his memory. With his deductions that you just saw, and my memory, we might get to the bottom of this.”

  Her uncle went silent and studied them both again. Mira’s voice quivered as she con
tinued.

  “Aside from that, Uncle, the whole reason why I started working with Mr. Constantine is to find out what happened to my parents.”

  “You already know that Mira. It was an accident.”

  “No, Uncle. We’ve found proof that they were murdered. And we,” She looked at Byron and then back to her uncle. “I have to get to the bottom of this.” She saw a light flicker in his eyes and then his visage cracked, and he softened.

  “In that case…” He turned to Mira, eyes welling up with tears. “I won’t even try to stop you. If you are desirous to continue this object as you have done up to now, despite the threats, then there is nothing on this fair earth that I could use to convince you otherwise. You’re as stubborn as your mother.” Mira’s heart leapt.

  “You’re alright with this?”

  “I never said that. I am fully against you being in danger. But seeing as you would do it whether I agreed to it or not, and if it really is true about your mother being murdered…” His face darkened, the news fully hitting him.

  “Oh, thank you!” She hugged him tightly, and he hugged back.

  “Don’t thank me yet. I have some conditions.” She pulled back and moved next to Byron again.

  “One is I need to know if anything else happens. Two regards Mr. Constantine.” Byron nodded.

  “You are to use your ties at Scotland Yard to get police protection for my niece while she is staying here.”

  “Of course, sir, I already planned on arranging that.”

  “So…then I may stay here?”

  “That is my third condition. You must stay here. After all, there is no place in London as safe as this house.”

  “Thank you!”

  “Those are all of my conditions. Now, why don’t you go and unpack?”

  She went up the stairs to her room while Byron and her uncle became more acquainted. Even though she visited every week, she hadn’t been in her old room in months. Knowing her uncle, he likely would have turned it into another library. Not that she minded libraries, but she wanted a bit of consistency after being nearly killed twice in the last week.

  She opened the door and grinned. Everything was as she left it. Her bed up against one wall, a bookshelf full of books and art supplies on the other, and a desk covered with paint and graphite in front of the double glass doors that led out onto the roof. And it was even well kept. She supposed that Landon likely kept it dusted and watched for stray spiders while she was gone. She went over to the window and pushed the curtains aside to look out onto the street. The same view greeted her. She looked around the room once again and saw Nero curled up on a blanket on the bed. She smiled. She wasn’t the only one that felt at home again. With that thought she began to unpack.

  Byron and Cyrus were in the middle of a conversation about Scotland Yard when she returned.

  “Why would they request the assistance of a detective without just simply hiring them?” Cyrus relit his pipe.

  “I believe I originally was working towards being hired on there, however after my accident they couldn’t exactly trust my memory. They trust me well enough now to help them solve tricky cases, however, but not enough to put me on salary. I’m paid on a case-by-case basis.” Cyrus nodded at his explanation and Byron smiled. Her uncle saw her and beckoned her in.

  “How did your room look?”

  “Exactly the way I left it. Pristine, even.”

  He smiled. Byron cleared his throat. “Now, I believe that Mira and I need to be going.”

  “You’re leaving again?”

  “She’ll be safe, I promise you. We’re just going to head over to Scotland Yard to arrange the police protection, or at least get someone to watch the house, and then I think we had plans for something else?” He looked to her for confirmation.

  “Mr. Graham. We were going to talk to him again.”

  “Oh yes. I’m glad you remembered.” He looked over at her teasing.

  “Then I won’t delay you. I’ll expect you back tonight,” Cyrus said, looking between them.

  They left Swan Walk in much higher spirits than when they had come.

  “I’d say that went rather well, don’t you think?”

  “He practically yelled at you, Byron!” She laughed.

  “And called me a Charlatan. I’ve been called many things: brilliant, charming, debonair, but never a charlatan.” He flashed a grin at her, and she could tell he was teasing again. She laughed more, and he laughed with her.

  “Considering what you said before that encounter, I am surprised I left with my head attached after everything I’ve let happen to you.” His laughter died down.

  “It couldn’t be helped Byron. It isn’t your fault.”

  “Still. I wish that I could have done something to prevent it.”

  “Well if I hadn’t been kidnapped, we wouldn’t know the full involvement the smugglers had with Pennington.”

  “We’d have found that out eventually, and I would rather have you out of danger without a clue, than in danger with several.”

  “But I did speed the case up, didn’t I?”

  “I believe so.”

  She smiled. “So, first to Scotland Yard, and then to Mr. Graham’s?”

  “Indeed.”

  They entered Scotland Yard and found it difficult to navigate. People crowded the stairwells and hallways, with constables rushing between offices and interrogation rooms. Miss Chickering was up to her neck in paperwork, but she didn’t hesitate to start up a conversation.

  “Mr. Constantine! And Miss Blayse. Back again, I see.” She wasn’t too pleased to see Mira. The thought briefly crossed her mind that Juliet had a motive for threatening Mira to leave London, but Mira surmised that she wasn’t a likely suspect. She may be rude, and occasionally annoy Mira with her constant attentions on Byron, but she wasn’t the type to do that sort of thing. Besides, Mira highly doubted she was strong enough to have been her assailant.

  “Yes Miss Chickering, just stopping in to speak with the chief inspector.” Byron was cheerful.

  “Are you here to help with the new evidence in the Whitechapel Case?” Juliet said.

  “Whitechapel Case?”

  “Yes! Didn’t you hear? The Central News Agency got a letter about the murders in Whitechapel!”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “Must be your memory again. I thought your new secretary was supposed to help with that.” Mira looked away. Byron gave Juliet a glare.

  “She is. And I believe this Whitechapel business is news to us. We are actually here about the Pennington case.”

  “You have new evidence then?”

  “Sort of. Not exactly.”

  “Well, he’s swamped at the moment, but,” She hesitated and looked at the door, almost worried. “I think he’d be glad to see you.”

  “And right you are.” Raymond Thatcher stepped out of his office and put on his hat.

  “Thatcher, what is going on? I’ve never seen Scotland Yard like this before.” Byron moved over to the chief inspector.

  “A major lead has been found for those Whitechapel murders.”

  “Miss Chickering mentioned that. What are the Whitechapel murders?”

  “Just the other four murder cases I’ve been working on. They’ve taken place over the course of the last few months. The first was back in April.”

  “Do you always have so many cases to solve?” Mira asked.

  “Usually I have at least two on my hands, and these murders were like no other I had ever seen. I’ve been trying to track senseless clues for weeks, even months. None of my constables have found any connections to the victims, except for their living conditions and the fact that these murders are gruesome. Definitely not for the faint of heart.” Mira remembered the photographs that were on his desk a few days before and paled.

  “I must have not written it down, or did you tell me about this at all?” Byron asked.

  “I may have mentioned it in pass
ing. That’s why I had clearance to assign you to the Pennington case. The other was deemed of more importance. But with the letter they received they aren’t going to take any chances. The more experienced chief inspectors and superintendents have been put on the case. They are simply waiting for the letter to be forwarded from the Central News Agency.”

  “They’ve taken you off of the case?” Byron looked surprised.

  “So it would seem.” Thatcher drooped with discouragement.

  “Where are you going, then?” Byron asked.

  “To clarify the cause of death of an old man. Since he lived in the same building as Pennington, we have to establish that it wasn’t related to that.”

  She felt a pang of grief hit her heart and then settle somewhere in her stomach.

  “Not Mr. Graham?”

  They accompanied the chief inspector on his ride over to the crime scene in a hansom cab. It was a bit crowded with the chief inspector, Byron, herself, and Officer Wensley.

  “We got the news about an hour before you came by. I sent Wensley, and he reported back. It wasn’t until then that I saw the significance. Two deaths in the same building?”

  Officer Wensley leaned forward in his seat. “Mr. Morrison let me in when I got there. It looked like a clear case of natural causes, but my gut says there’s something more to it. Something seemed off. Not sure what.”

  The chief inspector rubbed his temples. “I’m having a medical examiner take a look just to be sure it wasn’t another murder.”

  “And one of them a witness to the other.” Byron trailed off, deep in thought. Mira sat in silence.

  “We had talked to him, of course, but there wasn’t much useful information,” Thatcher said.

  “You had determined that there was a woman?”

  Wensley looked at the inspector. “Not until you brought it up, no.”

  “Mr. Graham supplied us with that information. We were actually going over today to ask him some more questions,” Byron said.

  “I see. Well, he wasn’t responsive to us.” Thatcher looked out the window.

  “He’s an old friend of Miss Blayse’s uncle, I think. I’m sure that had something to do with it.” Byron looked at Mira a bit worried. She didn’t have the heart to correct him.