"No. You did exactly right, Stilton. Thank you. And the others—thank them for me. I'll take it from here."
A look of concern crossed Stilton's face. "But not without our help, right, Miss Theo? You wouldn't wander down there by yourself, now, would you?"
"I'll be sure to let you know when I need your services again." That seemed to appease him.
"Oh, one more thing," he said. "That young urchin that hangs around here, the one you're always slipping out to talk to?"
My cheeks burned. Had I been so very obvious? And if Stilton had noticed it, who else had? "Yes?"
"Well, he was down there, too. At the docks. He was hiding behind a barrel, watching the tavern." A look of reproach shone in Stilton's eyes. "I do hope you didn't send him to check up on us."
"No, no! Of course not," I reassured him. "It was just a coincidence, that's all. He and I didn't have a chance to coordinate our activities yesterday."
Looking greatly relieved, Stilton nodded. "Also," he said, "the grand master wanted to know if he could collect his magic favor today."
Already? "Oh, Stilton! I'm so busy today, with all the police and Miss Sharpe—I don't see how I can get away."
"Very well, Miss Theo. I'm sure the grand master can wait." Then Stilton stepped out into the hall. I heard a muffled oomph, followed by a sharp "Watch where you're going!" Then Miss Sharpe hurried into the room and slammed the door shut, practically catching Stilton's nose as he tried to catch a glimpse of her.
I gasped. Her entire face was covered in festering boils. More were popping up, even as I watched. "Miss Sharpe," I breathed. Oh dear. I had known handling that rope hadn't been a good idea.
Miss Sharpe rushed over to get her things. Keeping her face averted, she shrugged into her coat. As she reached for her purse, I saw that the backs of her hands were covered with boils, too.
"I must leave. Immediately. Explain to your parents that I've taken ill." She opened the door and nearly ran into Stilton again. "Don't look at me!" she screeched, and then, ducking her face, she ran down the hall toward the side entrance.
I am sorry to say, I couldn't quite muster up all the sympathy I should have for Miss Sharpe. Perhaps I'd feel more charitable toward her once the bruises from her pinching faded.
Before I had time to react to this latest development, a bellow came from somewhere in the museum. What now? Stilton and I exchanged a glance, then dashed toward the sound of the shout.
Apparently everyone else in the museum had the same idea. Like migrating geese we all made our way to the Egyptian exhibit, where the noise had come from. Three constables and Inspector Turnbull were deep in conversation. There was an empty spot on the wall of mummies. How odd.
Turnbull stopped talking to his men and turned to me. "Where is your father?"
I pulled my eyes away from the empty space. "He's somewhere around here. Did you check his workroom?"
Turnbull jerked his head at one of the constables, who took off toward the workroom. As we waited, I casually drifted to where the New Kingdom mummy Ikudidy had been.
"Careful, miss. Don't get too close to the crime scene."
"I won't," I said as Isis slithered between my ankles toward the row of mummies. She batted at something on the floor, and I peered closer. It was a small homemade Blood of Isis amulet. Undoubtedly the one I'd placed on Ikudidy only three nights before.
Had it fallen off? Or had someone removed it?
The constable returned, escorting Father with Mother trailing behind them looking worried. At the sight of Father, Turnbull swelled up like a self-important rooster. "You want to explain what happened to this mummy, Throckmorton?"
Father gaped at the empty spot. "I have no idea! The mummy thieves must have broken in last night—" I could see him trying to work out how an intruder had gotten past him and his shotgun.
"And taken just the one mummy?" Turnbull scoffed. "When they've cleaned out every museum in London? I don't think so, Throckmorton."
"Well then, what do you think?" Father snapped back, annoyed.
"I think your greed exceeds your common sense. You were tempted to fence just one more, and now I've caught you red-handed."
"Red-handed at what? All you have is one more missing mummy!"
"Yes, but we caught a fence trying to sell off gold that is linked to one of the recent break-ins. We think you've taken the mummies in order to create a panic so people will take their gold from their vaults as protection. Once the gold is out of the bank, it is much easier to steal. And we think you're doing this in partnership with the Grim Nipper.
"Throckmorton, I place you under arrest!"
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The Salty Dog
THE ENTIRE ROOM GASPED at Turnbull's announcement, and then everyone started to speak at once. "Surely you're mistaken," Mother said, her eyes shadowed with worry.
"I say, if I had any idea of the goings-on around here, I never would have taken this job," Weems muttered somewhere behind me.
Thinking fast, I stepped forward. "Excuse me, Inspector?"
"What now?" Turnbull crossed his arms in front of him and nodded, clearly humoring me.
"What about Nigel Bollingsworth?"
"Bollingsworth, Bollingsworth," he muttered. He pulled out a small notebook and thumbed through it. "The ex–First Assistant Curator?"
"That's the one. Have you managed to track him down? Find him for questioning? He did just disappear with no explanation four months ago. Right after the Heart of Egypt went missing."
Mother's hand flew to her throat. "She's right," she said. "Bollingsworth did disappear right after we discovered the theft of the Heart of Egypt."
"You allowed an artifact of that importance to slip through your fingers?" Weems said. "Does Lord Chudleigh know about this?"
Father threw him an annoyed glance.
"We'll check into it," Turnbull said grudgingly. "But perhaps your father's working with the two of them. Now, take him away, boys."
And with that, burly constables appeared on either side of Father. They grabbed his elbows and escorted him from the room. To Father's credit, he maintained his dignity and didn't struggle or protest.
When the police had gone, we were all left staring mutely at one another. A throat cleared and then Vicary Weems clapped his hands. "Very well, then. Back to work. Go on, now. Move along." With great reluctance the others filed out of the room. stilton glanced back over his shoulder at me. Once they had left, Weems approached Mother. "I should like to have a word with you, Mrs. Throckmorton."
The minute he spoke, I knew what he was doing. He was going to ask to take over Father's duties as head of the museum.
"Not now, Weems," Mother said, brushing him off. "I have to get this all sorted out." She turned to me. "Theodosia, I'm going to see your grandmother. perhaps she can get that admiral of hers to help us."
"Good idea, Mum!"
She hesitated. "I don't know what time I'll be back."
"Oh, don't worry about me! I'll be fine."
The smile she gave me was strained. "That's my girl."
Weems gaped like a fish at her retreating form, still not able to believe he'd been so firmly ignored. "Well?" I said. "Shouldn't you get back to work as well? We're short handed now with Father gone, and Mother, too."
It wasn't until he left that I began to shake. My knees turned to jelly, and I eased myself down onto the edge of the display platform right behind me. Father had been arrested. And all because of this wretched staff. A sharp, hot lump rose up in my throat, and my eyes burned. I would not cry. I would not!