Chapter 18
“Oh, I do so love a library,” Katherine said, running her fingers along the ancient book spines in front of her and looking up at the high domed ceiling of stained glass above their heads.
After they’d dressed and had a bite to eat, Sister Agatha had led them to her private study.
More dragons frolicked in the tapestry on the wall and in the stained-glass windows, frozen forms breathing fire that glinted yellows and oranges despite the cloudy skies behind them.
“I can’t make out any of the titles, though. Never was much good at runes, myself.”
“Never mind the books, Katty. Let’s get going here. Ruben, I think you’re about to redeem yourself in a major way.”
The old man looked uncertain but gave a hopeful smile.
“Gods know, I’m willing to try,” he said, gingerly taking a seat at Sister Agatha’s blotter and pulling toward him the inkpots and nibbed pens she’d supplied.
“To think all of my friends have been under a charm for three years? And I was spared the worst effects only because I was cold all the time? I feel a bit ill, honestly.”
“Well, you’ll let us know if you’re going to be sick, won’t you?” Mrs. Chrysler asked, pulling the contract safely away from him. “And we’ll make sure it’s not all over Sister Agatha’s nice study?”
Ruben nodded grimly. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said. “Let’s get started.” He straightened his glasses and brought the desk lamp closer, cracked his knuckles and dipped a pen in the ink well. “Um, would you ladies mind not watching over my shoulder?”
“Oh, sorry, Ruben. We’ll take a seat over here.
” Katherine drew the book out of her pack and alighted on a corner settee under a wall lantern, with Mrs. Chrysler next to her.
Although she opened the book, Katherine soon found herself only pretending to read it, as she watched the deeply focused Ruben practice his craft.
Forgery had been his purported specialty after all, and she marveled that the weight of time and worry seemed to lift from him as he deftly inked and maneuvered his pen, gaining vibrancy, it seemed, with each fresh stroke.
Mr. Scruffles sniffed the baseboards for any bugs or spiders he might catch while they were waiting, while Tilly and Ember curled up on the carpet at Katherine’s feet for a nap.
As the minutes dripped by, eventually even Mr. Scruffles grew sleepy and lay down with his companions, burying his nose in his tail.
Despite her interest in Ruben’s work, Katherine’s own eyelids soon grew heavy.
What little light had been trickling through the rain-struck windows was gone by the time a triumphant exclamation stirred Katherine awake.
“Ladies, I’ve finished!”
“Argh! Oh, for goodness—I must have dozed off. Imogene, Imogene, wake up.”
“What?! I wasn’t sleep—oh.”
“Come see, come see, come see,” Ruben said gleefully, leaning on his cane to stand up and straightening the crick in his back as he rounded the desk to fetch them. “Look.”
“Well, I’ll be, Ruben,” Mrs. Chrysler said, taking a close look at the writing he’d done. “Looks spot-on to me.”
Katherine had to agree. “Excellent job, Ruben. You should be proud.”
His sunken chest swelled under his blue scarf, and he eased himself down to the settee for a rest. Ember alighted next to him and rubbed her soft cheek against his swollen knuckles. “Thank you.”
“Let’s call for our client, and she can add the final detail.”
“I do think that is a nice touch,” Katherine said, “not asking Ruben to forge her signature again when we can get the real thing.”
Ruben chuckled mirthlessly, “I don’t think I could do it, even if you asked me. Wouldn’t seem right. That first forged signature already caused so much trouble.”
Mrs. Chrysler nodded knowingly. “Well, let’s hope this one solves that trouble. Shall we call Sister Agatha in here?”
With uncanny timing, the mentioned personage knocked smartly on the door and opened it. “Finished?” she asked, although it sounded more like a confirmation than an inquiry.
“Just one thing needed,” Mrs. Chrysler said.
She guided Sister Agatha’s gaze to the document in question and pointed out the place for her signature.
Katherine wondered if she saw the shadow of a smile cross the nun’s stern face as she read the fine print by the lamplight.
But if she did, it didn’t linger. Sister Agatha Looked (the capital L being quite obvious) at Katherine, Mrs. Chrysler, Ruben, and each of their pets in turn, then picked up the pen and signed.
She laid the pen down with great solemnity.
“All right. I’ve received word from Todd that my lawyer will meet us as requested.”
“Good. It’s too bad Angelo’s signature was ruined in the rain,” Mrs. Chrysler said.
“We could get this part settled tonight…” She trailed off, and Katherine wondered if she was thinking about the trolls.
“But no matter,” she went on. “This way, at least, we get the satisfaction of seeing their faces.”
Katherine saw Ruben recoil a moment. “Does she really need to be there?” he asked.
“Yes, Ruben,” Mrs. Chrysler said. “We’ve got the leverage we need now, but I doubt Angelo even buys new pens for the business without his sister’s go-ahead. Anyway, we need to draw Ms. Angela away from the home, don’t we?”
The old man looked unconvinced.
“The new security firm Ms. Angela told us she hired, Ruben,” Katherine said. “To protect the place. Without her there to contradict us, they’ll have to let us in.”
Ruben nodded and set his jaw with determination. Mrs. Chrysler grinned.
“So, what now?” Sister Agatha asked.
“I wouldn’t mind a good night’s rest,” Ruben said, rubbing his forehead. When Sister Agatha’s glance fell on him, he shrank slightly, but she waved a magnanimous hand.
“I’ve already arranged rooms for you.”
“Perfect,” Mrs. Chrysler said. “And tomorrow morning, all we have to do is borrow a pigeon.”