“I don’t know,” she said, biting her lip. “Perhaps he was killed during the raid, by a high-explosive bomb, and whoever inherited it didn’t know it belonged to the cathedral.”
“Or he could have thought to himself, ‘I can’t do this to the people of Coventry. They’re already going to have to suffer the loss of their cathedral. I can’t inflict the bishop’s bird stump on them as well.’ ”
“Be serious,” she said. “What if he didn’t bring it back because it was destroyed in the raid, by a bomb or something.”
I shook my head. “Even a high-explosive bomb couldn’t destroy the bishop’s bird stump.”
She flung the pen down. “I am so glad we’re going to Coventry today so I can actually see the bishop’s bird stump. It cannot possibly be as bad as you say.”
She looked thoughtful. “What if the bishop’s bird stump was involved in a crime? It was used as a murder weapon, and it got blood on it, so they stole it to keep anyone from finding out about the murder.”
“You have been reading too many murder mysteries,” I said.
She dipped her pen in the ink again. “What if it was stored in the cathedral, but inside something else, like Poe’s ‘The Purloined Letter’?” She started to write and then stopped and frowned at the pen. She pulled an orange dahlia penwiper out of her pocket.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“Wiping my pen,” she said. She stuck the pen into the dahlia and wiped it off between the layers of cloth.
“It’s a penwiper,” I said. “A pen wiper! It’s used to wipe pens!”
“Yes,” she said, looking at me dubiously. “There was ink on the point. It would have blotted the paper.”
“Of course! So you wipe it on a penwiper!”
“How many drops have you had, Ned?” she said.
“You’re a wonderful girl, you know that?” I said, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You’ve solved a mystery that’s been plaguing me since 1940. I could kiss—”
There was a bloodcurdling scream from the direction of the house, and Cyril buried his face in his paws.
“What now?” Verity said, looking disappointed.
I let go of her shoulders. “The daily swoon?”
She stood up and began brushing straw off her skirts. “This had better not be anything that keeps us from going to Coventry,” she said. “You go first. I’ll come in through the kitchen.”
“Mesiel!” Mrs. Mering shrieked. “O, Mesiel!”
I took off for the house, expecting to find Mrs. Mering laid out among the bric-a-brac, but she wasn’t. She was standing halfway down the stairs in her wrapper, clutching the railing. Her hair was in two operatic braids, and she was waving an empty velvet-lined box.
“My rubies!” she was wailing to the Colonel, who had apparently just come out of the breakfast room. He still had his napkin in his hand. “They’ve been stolen!”
“I knew it!” the Colonel, shocked into using a subject, said. “Should never have allowed that medium person in the house!” He threw down the napkin. “Thieves!”
“O, Mesiel,” Mrs. Mering said, pressing the jewel case to her bosom, “surely you don’t think Madame Iritosky had anything to do with this!”
Tossie appeared. “What’s happened, Mama?”
“Tocelyn, go and see whether any of your jewelry is missing!”
“My diary!” Tossie cried and scampered off, nearly colliding with Verity, who must have come up the back stairs.
“What is it?” Verity said. “What’s happened?”
“Robbed!” the Colonel said succinctly. “Tell Madame Whatever-Her-Name-Is and that Count person to come down immediately!”
“They’ve gone,” Verity said.
“Gone?” Mrs. Mering gasped, and I thought she was going to pitch over the stairs.
I raced up and Verity hurried down, and we supported Mrs. Mering down the steps and into the parlor. We deposited her, sobbing, on the horsehair sofa.
Tossie appeared breathlessly at the top of the stairs. “O, Mama, my garnet necklace is missing!” she cried, pattering down the stairs, “and my pearls, and my amethyst ring!” But instead of running into the parlor, she disappeared down the corridor and reappeared a moment later, carrying her diary. “Thank goodness I hid my diary in the library, in amongst all the other books where no one would notice it!”
Verity and I looked at each other.
“Knew all this table-tipping nonsense would come to no good,” Colonel Mering said. “Where’s Baine? Ring for him!”
Verity started for the bellpull, but Baine was already there, carrying a chipped pottery jug.
“Put that down,” Colonel Mering ordered, “and go fetch the constable. Mrs. Mering’s necklace is missing.”
“And my amethyst ring,” Tossie said.
“I removed Mrs. Mering’s rubies and the other pieces of jewelry last night for cleaning,” Baine said. “I had noticed when the ladies wore them last, they seemed somewhat dimmed.” He reached in the jug. “I left them to soak overnight in a solution of vinegar and baking soda. He pulled out the ruby necklace and handed it to Colonel Mering. “I was just returning the things to their cases. I would have mentioned it to Mrs. Mering, but she was busy with her guests.”
“I knew it!” Mrs. Mering said from the sofa. “Mesiel, how could you have suspected dear Madame Iritosky?”
“Baine, check on the silver,” Colonel Mering said. “And the Rubens.”
“Yes, sir,” Baine said. “What time would you like the carriages brought round?”
“Carriages? What for?” the Colonel said.
“To take us to Coventry,” Tossie said. “We are going to St. Michael’s Church.”
“Pah!” Colonel Mering said. “No business going anywhere. Thieves in the neighborhood! No telling when they might come back!”
“But we have to go,” Verity said.
“The spirits summoned us,” Tossie said.
“Stuff and nonsense!” Colonel Mering sputtered. “Probably concocted the whole thing to get us all out of the house so they could come back and steal our valuables!”
“Concocted!” Mrs. Mering said, rising up majestically from the sofa. “Are you implying the spirit message we received last night was not genuine?”
Colonel Mering ignored her. “We won’t need the carriages. And better make certain the horses are there. No telling what—” He looked suddenly stricken. “My Black Moor!”
I thought it unlikely that Madame Iritosky would steal the Colonel’s goldfish, even if she had been foiled in the matter of the rubies, but it seemed like a bad idea to tell the Colonel that. I stepped back to let him pass as he shot out the door.
Mrs. Mering sank back down on the sofa. “O, that your father would doubt Madame Iritosky’s genuineness! It is a mercy she’s gone and is not here to suffer such vile accusations!” She thought of something. “What reason did she give for their departure, Baine?”
“I was unaware of their departure until this morning,” Baine said. “It appears they left sometime during the night. I was extremely surprised. I had told Madame Iritosky that I felt certain you would write the Psychic Research Society this morning and ask them to come witness the manifestation, and I supposed of course that she would have stayed for that, but perhaps she had urgent business elsewhere.
“No doubt,” Mrs. Mering said. “The spirits’ summons may not be denied. But the Psychic Research Society here! How thrilling that would have been!”
The Colonel came back in, carrying Princess Arjumand under his arm and looking grim.
“Is your Black Moor safe, sir?” I asked anxiously.
“For the moment,” he said, dumping the cat on the floor.
Tossie scooped her up.
“No coincidence that they arrived when they did, on the day before my red-spotted silver tancho was to arrive,” the Colonel said. “Baine! Want you to stand guard over the fishpond all day. No telling when they might come back!”
“Baine is going with me,” Mrs. Mering said, rising from the sofa, looking like a Valkyrie with her braids and the light of battle in her eyes. “And we are going to Coventry.”