“Ralph. We need Ralph,” insisted Noah. “He can find that evil monster. He can find Mother. Ralph can sniff her out, even if she’s trapped in some tower. And Ralph will get Komar Romak. I’m telling you, Ralph can find anything. We need Ralph.”
Miss Brett wasn’t sure if this was true or not. But she knew that Noah desperately needed his dog by his side. She needed to find a way to help this happen. A boy should have his dog, a trusted friend who never lets him down.
Miss Brett and the children entered the main room at the bottom of the grand staircase. Several brothers were there together, three elder brothers speaking in hushed tones to a pair of novices.
“I’m going to find my father,” said Noah, the determination evidenced by a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Or someone’s father. I want to send for Ralph. Does anyone know where the parents are?”
Miss Brett touched the sleeve of one of the elder brothers in black.
“Excuse me, Brother, but we need to find Noah’s father,” she started. “Noah needs to send for his dog—”
“Not need.” The brother in the walrus moustache and baggy trousers shook his head.
“Yes, need,” insisted Miss Brett on Noah’s behalf. “He needs to send for his dog.”
The problem, she knew, was that her insistence struggled against one unfortunate fact—it would take weeks, or longer, for the dog to arrive from Toronto. And the journey would not be an easy one for Ralph. A dog on a ship…who would care for him? Well, it must be done, if for no other reason than to give Noah hope. They had to send word right away.
“Need,” said the brother in the same deadpan manner. “No need.”
It was then that they all heard it. It was loud and made Lucy jump. The sound seemed to come from the stairwell, but they couldn’t be sure.
Noah stood there, ready to demand his dog be sent for immediately. But he froze when he heard the sound. It couldn’t be. In all his anguish, he must be imagining…or was he?
Lucy, her heart pounding, tugged at his sleeve. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
And it was. Noah was still standing frozen when a small furry torpedo smashed into his thigh. Noah knelt down and Ralph was apparently determined to lick every inch of Noah’s exposed skin. The silly dog was barking and licking and sniffing, chasing his tail in the thrill of it all, his uneven ears flapping in the air.
“Ralph!” cried Noah for the fiftieth time. The ginger-headed boy looked over at the brother in black who, under his beard and bonnet, was smiling. Yes, Noah was sure of that.
Miss Brett couldn’t help but smile looking at that dog and his boy. Ralph’s head tilted whenever Noah spoke his name.
“You’re going to help, aren’t you, boy?” Noah asked.
Ralph sneezed and barked and wagged his tail in response.
It was uncanny. Miss Brett was convinced the dog understood what was being said. She smiled at that funny, scruffy mutt. She watched as Noah tilted his head to the side and Ralph mimicked the action. Miss Brett blinked. She blinked again. Noah’s ears were not actually uneven; it was simply a trick of the light. Miss Brett picked up her handkerchief and giggled into it, making it sound like a cough.
Noah knew he was behaving foolishly. The second he issued the command to Ralph, he knew. Ralph could not simply “Go find Mother!”
“We need to know where to send Ralph,” said Faye, gently. “I’m sure he’ll be brilliant, but we need to give him a direction.”
“Faye is right. We first must decide how to best utilize Ralph’s skills.” Wallace had reluctantly given in to Ralph’s incessant sniffing and licking and nudging and, as he was being sniffed and licked and nudged, Ralph suddenly took off as if called to the hunt.
“Yes, of course,” agreed Noah, intermittently whistling for Ralph. “I know I just…it came out of me.” It wasn’t fair to Ralph or anyone else. Now Ralph was whining and snooping around the palace, running out onto the grounds and up the wide staircase trying to please Noah and find Ariana.
Miss Brett had gone to find some food for Ralph. She wondered if some of this sniffing in every corner might also be a search for food.
“It’s like we have all these pieces and none of them fit properly together,” said Wallace.
“We need to start mapping out what we know and what we need to know.” No one disagreed with Jasper. There were so many bits and pieces, and they had not stopped yet to see where they fit into the crazy puzzle. Once they had the pieces in place, they’d be able to see what was missing.
“Well,” considered Wallace, “we know about us. We know that we were all taken, our parents, too, as part of some protection program.”
“All except my mother,” said Noah.
“All except your mother,” said Jasper.
In a whisper, Noah added, “Until now.”
“Until now,” agreed Faye. “But we know that, unlike us, our scientist parents were not exactly taken away, not by Komar Romak. They went willingly with the brothers in black.”
“So, then,” Wallace continued, “all of us scientists and inventors, at least those of us living, were removed from our homes and placed together.” Wallace had not discounted his mother, who was a scientist but had died when he was small.
“Or, apart. We were separated from our parents, weren’t we?” Faye tried not to glare at anyone.
“And we are the Young Inventors Guild,” added Lucy.
“Indeed,” Jasper agreed.
“But we are not the first generation, or even the tenth, of the Young Inventors Guild,” Noah said. “For years, this type of thing must have been going on—scientist parents and inventor children. But why?”
“It wasn’t the aeroplane,” Faye said aloud as the thought became clear. “It’s something else. Not our aeroplane or our weapons or our automatic chessmen. Something else is the thing, remember? Back in Ohio, Kattaning wanted ‘the thing.’ It is the thing that our parents are doing or making or building. Or saving. That is what Komar Romak wants.” She looked at the others. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
It made sense. Komar Romak wanted what their parents had or what their parents were inventing. As for the children? They couldn’t guess their true role in all of this. Perhaps they might just be along for the ride, or maybe they were being hidden to keep them safe. They might have been taken by the mysterious men in black simply to prevent Komar Romak from using the children against their parents.
“But we haven’t a clue as to what they’re doing,” Wallace said. “And the brothers in black are not saying anything about it.”
“Maybe Mr. Bell will tell us more, or let us go through his archives, after we’ve worked some things out for ourselves,” said Jasper. “We can ask Miss Brett if she thinks it’s right to ask him.” Miss Brett had not yet returned with Ralph’s lunch.
“Or we can simply go and ask him.” Faye raised an eyebrow. “Now.”
“Simply ask?” said Noah.
When it came to the mysterious brothers in black, the words “simply” and “asked” had no business being in the same sentence. They would need to figure things out, to be clear and organized, before approaching Mr. Bell again.
“Right now, we don’t even know what to ask,” Jasper said quietly.
“I think Lucy is right. Take it step by step,” said Wallace.
“Okay, then, what is step one?” Faye folded her arms. “Noah’s mother was kidnapped. What other step is there?”
“Perhaps.” Wallace was running things categorically through his mind. “We need to understand what was going on at the hotel and the opera house and look for clues there. Where was Miss Ariana before she arrived at the opera? Did she arrive at the opera house? Who knew where she was and when?”
“We need a list and a calendar,” said Jasper. “Something we haven’t done is trace your mother’s steps from the moment she arrived in Cairo, determine where she went, who she saw, and where she was staying.” He was trying to be encouraging, but saw the desperation grow on N
oah’s face.
Noah nodded. He really just wanted to take Ralph and run through the streets until he found his mother, and he wanted the blackguards who took her thrown into the darkest dungeon for all eternity. But he knew that made no sense. They had to start somewhere.
Faye stood up. “We need a slate board and some chalk,” she said with determination. “And we shall map Ariana’s movements from when she first arrived.”
Miss Brett was carrying a small bowl of rice and lamb for Ralph’s supper. She had found the children and the small hungry dog in what the children called the “facile room.”
“Fasl,” they learned later, meant “classroom” in Arabic, but at that time it simply meant the room that would make figuring out a timeline all the easier.
“Very well,” said Faye, fishing for a piece of chalk in a small tin bucket that hung on a nail by the slate board. “Let’s write down what we know.”
“I know the table of elements and all their atomic numbers,” suggested Lucy, patting Ralph on the head as he ate the food Miss Brett had brought him.
“Everyone knows that,” scolded Faye. “I am talking about what we know that will lead us to Noah’s mother.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Noah,” said Lucy, who looked as if she was about to cry.
Noah forced a smile. “Not to worry, Lucy. And that formidable memory of yours will certainly come in handy.”
And he was right.
Faye began to write on the blackboard:
FACTS ABOUT ARIANA IN CAIRO
1. ARRIVAL
ARIANA ARRIVES IN ALEXANDRIA.
WHERE DID SHE GO?
WHO DID SHE SEE?
WHO KNEW SHE HAD ARRIVED?
2. ACCOMMODATIONS
IN CAIRO, SHE STAYED AT THE SHEPHEARD’S HOTEL.
WHAT ROOM?
ARE HER THINGS STILL THERE?
3. FIRST EVENING
WITH WHOM DID SHE DINE?
DID SHE STAY IN HER SUITE AT SHEPHEARD’S?
4. THE FOLLOWING DAYS
REHEARSAL AT THE OPERA House
WHERE DID SHE GO AFTERWARD?
WITH WHOM DID SHE VISIT?
WHO CAME TO THE HOTEL TO SEE HER?
5. THE SECOND WEEK
DID SHE STAY IN CAIRO?
WHO ASKED FOR HER AT THE HOTEL?
ARE THERE ANY LETTERS WAITING?
6. NIGHT OF THE PERFORMANCE
This last entry required no questions. Writing down anything for this date felt like thrusting a sword into Noah’s heart. They had been there. They saw. They knew.
“Right.” Faye wiped the dust from the chalk on her apron. “We know Ariana arrived in Alexandria.”
“Do we?” asked Noah.
“Well, we know she made it to Cairo. There would have been an alarm raised if she wasn’t where she was supposed to be when someone came to fetch her.” Faye was considering that they really didn’t know what happened before Ariana arrived at the Shepheard’s Hotel, but it must have been what was expected since there was no alarm until she was taken. “No one said she had been late or that there had been any possible folderol or palaver.”
“A what? Palaver? Is that a head scarf?” Noah’s eyebrows went up.
“No, you’re thinking of a balaclava.” Faye rolled her eyes.
“What’s a folderol?” asked Wallace.
“It’s what your do with a serviette,” said Lucy, knowingly.
“Ah,” said Noah, “fold or roll your napkin. Thank you, Lucy. And what, Lady Faye, does this have to do with—”
“It is a commotion or a bother,” huffed Faye. “Honestly, do you people not know English?”
“We know modern English,” said Noah. “Perhaps not ancient forms of it.”
“I am only meaning to say,” continued Faye, somewhat flustered, “that Ariana was indeed at the Shepheard’s and there is nothing to indicate a problem with her arrival in any way.”
“I think we need to collect her things, go through them, and look for clues,” said Jasper, looking at Faye’s list. “We cannot possibly answer these questions without such information.”
“He’s right,” said Noah, distracted. “Clues. People. Eyewitnesses…we need to interview people she met or who saw her.” He took the chalk from Faye’s hand and began to write.
He pointed to his notes. “She came from Alexandria. We need to speak with the carriage driver who collected her from the train station. He will let us know if she arrived without a problem. We need to look among her things to see if there is anything, anything, that she brought with her from Alexandria…something that may indicate who she saw, who she met, where she stayed, and for how long.” He took a deep breath. This was a start.
“Perhaps we can split into two groups to be more efficient,” suggested Wallace, moving slightly closer to Miss Brett so he would be in her group if they took his suggestion.
Noah nodded. “Excellent idea, Wallace. Mother was at Shepheard’s, but also spent much of her time at the opera house. There must be quite a collection of her things there. We can fetch whatever has been left at each place and bring everything back here. Perhaps one group can go to the opera house and one to the Shepheard’s Hotel.”
“We might have a problem collecting her things from the hotel,” Miss Brett warned. “We cannot simply walk in there and demand the private effects of a woman still checked in there.”
“I’m her son,” said Noah. “I have the right. The opera house—well, that might be another matter. We can ask my father. Maybe he can join us.”
“We already have some of her personal things.” Dr. Canto-Sagas had entered the room so quietly they had not noticed. His face was pale and his eyes, awkwardly unfocused, were red and swollen. Noah thought his father seemed bent and even thinner than usual.
“We have some boxes here, at the castle…the ones…she had me fetch, as well as some of the bigger items she left to be sent directly to the Mena House soirée. The Locke Kings—it’s their hotel…they planned the soirée in her honor. She wanted me to transport them since she was already beyond the limit of a single carriage. Ariana often is in need of several gowns and long coats so this was nothing unusual. Lovely gowns for…for my lovely…” Dr. Canto-Sagas seemed barely able to stand. He collapsed on the bed, his whole body seeming to shake.
“She has things here?” Noah was surprised. “Have you looked for clues?”
“Clues?” Dr. Canto-Sagas looked up at his son. “We must…must look for clues to what happened to her,” he said, as if this was obvious. “That way we can start a search.”
Noah looked at his father. He felt fear rising. His father did not seem well, as if grief was crushing him.
“Father, perhaps you need to rest,” said Noah. “We can look for clues ourselves. There must be something—” Dr. Canto-Sagas shook his head. “But Noah, how…what…how can we possibly think there would be—”
“Because it is what we can do.” Noah’s hand came down hard on the table.
Dr. Canto-Sagas tried to stand. Noah took his arm as his father swayed.
“Come with me,” Dr. Canto-Sagas said, his voice like paper, thin and frail.
“I haven’t looked through her things.” Dr. Canto-Santo was nearly stumbling down the hall, trying to keep up with Noah.
Noah was angry with himself. Why hadn’t he thought to ask his father before? Because his father had never given him any answers before. How could he have expected answers now? Still, he should have thought of his father’s help. He should have thought to look for clues among his mother’s bags and drawers and boxes. Noah felt as if all the twisting and roiling in his stomach had drained and left an empty pit.
Dr. Canto-Sagas stopped outside the door of his own bedroom. “It’s in here.”
He put his shaky hand on the doorknob but didn’t turn it. Noah reached over and handled the task for his father.
The room was a mess. There were clothes strewn across the floor, though mostly his father’s. Nothing had been put away s
ince they had dressed for the night at the opera.
“Perhaps a calming lavender tisane and some sweet tea for Dr. Canto-Sagas,” said Miss Brett. She felt uncomfortable in the heartbreaking mess of that room. The poor man needed something to help him. She placed a hand on his forehead. His face was hot to the touch. She looked at Noah. “He has a fever,” she said, quietly. “He’s ill. I must get him help.”
“Ill?” Noah looked terrified.
“It will be alright. I’m sure it is the shock.” But Miss Brett was not sure if it was only the shock. Dr. Canto-Sagas was not a well man. She moved things aside on the far side of the bed.
She offered him her arm. Dr. Canto-Sagas took it. She bent to help him remove his pair of shib-shib, but he had only one slipper on his foot. She took it off and eased him down, pulling the covers up to his shoulders. Noah was already starting his room search.
Miss Brett spoke to Jasper. “I will go find Mr. Bell and let him know. Dr. Canto-Sagas needs more than a tisane to drink. Perhaps they have some medicine that will ease the fever.”
Jasper nodded and pitched in with the search. Miss Brett hurried to find Mr. Bell.
“Look through papers for any messages. Perhaps find something that might give us a clue.” Jasper wasn’t sure of anything, but they had to start somewhere, “Or, at least, we can begin retracing her steps.”
Dr. Canto-Sagas groaned in a fitful sleep. On the other side was a single indented pillow and mussed linen.
“Most of her things will be in her hotel suite,” Wallace said.
Noah had thought of this. “Yes, but I saw my father with her reticule. In fact, it got caught on my sleeve. Mother always keeps little pots of rouge and face powder, blotting paper, little bits and bobs, in that small silk bag. Perhaps also a small diary to write down engagements. He was holding it for her so she could come out and greet us without having to bring it from her dressing room.”
The Strange Round Bird: Or the Poet, the King, and the Mysterious Men in Black Page 8