Chapter 4 #2
“Good boy,” I told him as I slowly walked into the office and began my own inspection that included the remnants of damp footprints on the carpet, apparently left by whoever had been there.
Was it possible that Brodie had returned in the middle of the night?
It seemed logical that he might have, since he was out and about in all sorts of places, quite determined to learn more about Constable Martin’s murder.
I carefully continued my inspection as Rupert returned to the office and sat expectantly before the coal stove.
The chalkboard appeared to be as I had left it the previous day, with the felt eraser in the same place on the chalk rail.
The file on Brodie’s desk that he had been working on, adding notes from our last case, was on the corner of his desk, although upon closer inspection it did seem as if it might have been moved. I then went to my desk.
Brodie insisted that I have my own desk and had gifted me with a portable typing machine. Even though he had insisted at the time that it might be useful when working on my next novel.
I was not fooled that it also just happened to be most convenient for typing out our case reports. His handwriting was often indecipherable. There were moments when he was quite transparent.
Instead of inquiring if I would type the report, he had grumbled and groused that he couldn’t read the “damned thing,” tossing the folder back down onto the desk with obvious impatience.
How had I responded when I usually would not have patience for such things?
“Let me type up the report, dear, rather than listen to your complaints and curses.”
It was not lost on me, by the self-satisfied smirk on his face, that he had maneuvered the situation to his favor. Yet, I had discovered there were ways to get back at him.
I straightened the folder and noticed that the edge was damp as if something had spilled on it. I opened it. The top page of the report was faintly smudged, as if whoever had opened the folder had smudged the ink on the page. I closed the file.
Rupert had joined my inspection and sat expectantly with that same demeanor as moments before.
“What is it? What do you think you’ve found?” I went to my desk.
Everything seemed in order—pencil holder, a tablet for notes when Brodie and I discussed a case, a copy of my last novel that James Warren, my publisher and also my brother-in-law, had sent to the office just before the volume’s recent release at the bookstores.
I frowned. I was almost certain that I had placed it on the bookshelf with other books I had brought to the office.
As I reached for it to return it to the shelf, I noticed drops of what appeared to be water on the desktop.
I glanced at the door that had been ajar when I arrived.
From what I had discovered, it did seem that someone had been in the office.
Brodie would not have left the office unlocked and the door ajar.
Rupert nudged my hand. I stroked his ears. I had no doubt that he sensed…something. Or someone.
“It does seem as though we had a visitor,” I commented, not that I expected a response.
And it did appear that it was not Brodie. While he was very supportive of my efforts as an author, he had yet to read one of my Emma Fortescue novels, especially with her recent adventures in crime solving.
“I’m afraid wot I might find that ye’ve written there. Particularly how women gather about when ye have a new book out.”
Dear Emma, the heroine of my novels, had taken on a partner in her endeavors—a tall, dark, brooding Scot! I had yet to make Rupert a central character.
He whined at my feet.
“Good boy,” I commended him. At least he hadn’t dropped a body part or some dead creature at my feet.
I crossed the office and checked the lock. It worked quite well, yet I did notice scratch marks about the keyhole.
We kept nothing of value there other than the few furnishings, my typing machine, and extra clothes for those days that went long into the night when on a case. Yet, someone had gone to considerable effort to get into the office.
What had they hoped to find?
I made a mental note to have Mr. Cavendish send word to the locksmith that we needed the lock changed and new keys provided, then removed my neck scarf and coat.
There was time before my first appointment, and I wanted to update my notes regarding the Ambersley lost necklace. I paused as I went to the chalkboard.
It was safe to assume that whoever had been there had also seen my notes. There was nothing to indicate that it was connected to the case of the lost necklace. Still…
I decided to update my notebook instead. While it was an extremely remote possibility that whoever had been there was connected to the loss of the necklace, I was not one to take chances. It was a very valuable piece of jewelry.
Instead, I sat at Brodie’s desk and updated my notebook. I then wrote a note for when he returned to the office that I would give to Mr. Cavendish.
With the dreadful weather, I left extra time for travel to my first appointment. As the clock struck the hour ahead of our meeting time, I gathered my notebook and retrieved my scarf and coat. I made certain that I locked the door as I left the office.
Mr. Cavendish was there as Rupert and I reached the sidewalk. I handed him the note for Brodie.
“Please see that he receives this when he returns,” I asked, then waved down a coach.
“Is everything all right, miss?”
“It does seem as though someone visited the office last night.”
He cut a glance to the top of the stairs. “Mr. Brodie perhaps?”
I shook my head. “The lock had been tampered with. Please contact the locksmith to change the lock.”
He nodded as a coach arrived with Mr. Jarvis, who frequently provided transportation, atop with his cap pulled low against the rain.
“Will the lad be accompanying you?” he inquired with a look down at the hound.
“It would be best, with what you just told me,” Mr. Cavendish suggested.
“He’s better mannered than some of me fares,” Mr. Jarvis added.
It did seem that the matter had already been decided.
“Very well,” I replied.
“Up with you,” I told Rupert.
He scrambled into the coach. I gave Mr. Jarvis the address for my meeting with Lady Longridge and then climbed in after.