Authors: Tracy Barrett
The Missing Heir (6 page)
T
hank goodness for spring break!” Xander said on Monday morning as he and Xena walked to the back of the Dancing Men, a pub near the hotel where they had stayed when they first moved to London. As they had discovered months ago, the long corridor behind the pub's dining room led to a concealed entrance to the headquarters of the SPFD.
hank goodness for spring break!” Xander said on Monday morning as he and Xena walked to the back of the Dancing Men, a pub near the hotel where they had stayed when they first moved to London. As they had discovered months ago, the long corridor behind the pub's dining room led to a concealed entrance to the headquarters of the SPFD.
“I know,” Xena said as she opened a dark brown door, revealing a dusty room filled with empty cardboard boxes that were scattered and stacked in a way to make any visitor think this was a regular storage room. “This case is really complicated. We'd never have time to investigate it if we were in school today.”
Xander ducked down and crawled through the false cardboard box that was against a wall. There was a door hidden in the back of this
“box,” and he quickly spun the dials of the lock to the right combination to let them in.
“box,” and he quickly spun the dials of the lock to the right combination to let them in.
Xena wasn't crazy about tight spaces, but each time she went through the box and out the door, it was a bit easier. Still, she was always relieved when she climbed out the other side and into SPFD headquarters.
Mr. Brown, a longtime member of the SPFD, looked up from his desk. “There you are! I was wondering how you two were going to get here. It took me almost an hour on my bicycle instead of ten minutes on the Tube.”
“Our dad dropped us off on his way to work,” Xander said. “His spring break isn't until next week.”
“Andrew is fetching the papers about the Borogovian case from the archives.” Mr. Brown stood up and pulled a large key ring from his pocket. “And in the meantime, let's take a look at the artifacts that your illustrious ancestor collected.”
Xena and Xander glanced into the display cases that lined the wall in the corridor between the lobby and the offices and labs of the SPFD. In one, an ostrich-feather fan with what looked like a bullet hole through its handle drooped
over two silk gloves, one of which had six fingers. Another case held a stuffed rodent the size of a cat with a neatly hand-lettered label saying “SUNDAMYS INFRALUTEUS.” Its bared teeth were long and yellow, and Xander shuddered and swerved a bit to avoid walking right next to it. He knew the creature wasn't alive, but he still hadn't completely conquered his phobia of wild animals.
over two silk gloves, one of which had six fingers. Another case held a stuffed rodent the size of a cat with a neatly hand-lettered label saying “SUNDAMYS INFRALUTEUS.” Its bared teeth were long and yellow, and Xander shuddered and swerved a bit to avoid walking right next to it. He knew the creature wasn't alive, but he still hadn't completely conquered his phobia of wild animals.
Mr. Brown worked a slender key in the opening of the third case. The glass door swung open.
“This is the picture I was talking about,” Xander said, pointing at a black-and-white photograph of a sleeping infant. “And there's that flower thing.” He reached in and picked it up carefully.
“What is it?” Xena asked. What looked like a tiny oval picture frame of gold held a strange rose, shiny and completely black, even the stem and leaves.
“That's a mourning pin.” Mr. Brown beckoned to Xena to look at it more closely. “They were popular a hundred years ago and more. They're made from the hair of someone who died, and were worn in memory of the dead person.”
“Yuck.” Xena wrinkled her nose.
“I know, it seems odd now,” Mr. Brown said, “but people from different times show their grief in different ways. This one was made from the hair of Queen Charlotte's mother, Princess Stella's grandmother.”
“She was Alice's great-great-great-great-grandmother,” Xander said.
“Right. See, there's a note that came with it.”
The spidery handwriting was difficult to read, but Xena managed to decipher: “For Mr. Sherlock Holmes from HRH Queen Charlotte of Borogovia, in gratitude for his efforts on behalf of my late mother's only grandchild.”
“It's strange,” Xander said.
“To make a dead person's hair into a flower and then wear it, you mean?” asked Xena.
“No, I mean it's really strange that there would be two kidnappings in the same family a hundred years apart. Royal families have bodyguards, servants, lots of people around them. Wouldn't they be the
last
people to be kidnapped?”
last
people to be kidnapped?”
“You'd think so,” Mr. Brown said, “but actually, royal families are threatened with kidnapping a lot. That's why they have so many bodyguards.”
“Everybody around Alice knew about the kidnapping of Princess Stella,” Xander suggested, “so maybe when they had to get rid of Alice for some reason, kidnapping occurred to them. Plus, just after Alice showed her aunt and the others at the breakfast table the letters that mentioned the kidnapping, the letters disappearedâand then that same night, she did too. We're trying to find a connection.”
“I'll leave that up to you,” Mr. Brown said. “I'll see what's keeping Andrew and send him here.” He went back to his office.
“So what do you think, Xena?” Xander asked. “What do we do now?”
Xena considered. “I don't know. We can't investigate Alice's disappearance without cooperation from the police, and obviously we're not going to get that. If we solve Sherlock's case, maybe we can figure out what upset Alice's aunt so much when Alice asked her about the letters. That could help us find Alice.”
“I don't know,” Xander objected. “It's a long shot, and Sherlock's notes are even harder to understand than usual. I mean, what does a ship have to do with anything?”
“The ship that the king and queen were on
when the baby was kidnapped?” Xena guessed, but she knew this was weak.
when the baby was kidnapped?” Xena guessed, but she knew this was weak.
Xander shook his head. “I don't know how that would help, unless Sherlock thought the king and queen were involved somehow. That doesn't really seem likely. But let's work on it a little. So far we've only looked at that brooch. What else did Sherlock save from the investigation? Anything that could help? We don't have much to go on. There are lots of clues, but none of them seem related to each other.”
They examined the other objects in the case. There were some small photographs, chosen for display to visitors of the SPFD to show the most important people involved with the kidnapping. There was one of an uncomfortable-looking Sherlock with the queen, and a few of the princess growing up.
“The little girl looks a lot like Alice,” Xena said, and Xander agreed. “Look,” she went on, “here's one that says it was taken right after Princess Stella was born. See, the label says, âHer Royal Highness Princess Stella, held by Miss Mimsy, with her parents seated together in front of them.'” The nurse, her light hair pulled back into a severe bun, stood behind the queen,
who looked pale and weak, even in the old-fashioned photograph that didn't exactly bring out the best in anyone. Both women wore dresses with wide, puffy skirts. The king, dressed in a dark suit, held his wife's hand and stared at her instead of looking at the camera, concern evident on his face.
who looked pale and weak, even in the old-fashioned photograph that didn't exactly bring out the best in anyone. Both women wore dresses with wide, puffy skirts. The king, dressed in a dark suit, held his wife's hand and stared at her instead of looking at the camera, concern evident on his face.
“Why would you call someone who looks like that a buttercup?” Xander wondered aloud, remembering what Alice had read in the letter from Queen Charlotte to her friend. Miss Mimsy was a dumpy little woman, not at all flowerlike.
Andrew finally appeared with a cardboard box full of loose papers. “I don't think you'll find anything here,” he said. “They were all catalogued a long time ago, and if anything useful had been mentioned, somebody would have noticed it.” By now, Xena and Xander knew that Andrew could be grumpy and discouraging, so they didn't remind him that sometimes they could see a clue that other people missed. Besides, if Sherlock hadn't thought these papers were important, he wouldn't have saved them.
Xander's phone rang. “It's Mom,” he reported to Xena. “She's through with her errands and is waiting outside to take us home.”
Xander held the door open for Xena as she carried the box past Mr. Brown's office, calling out, “Thanks! Bye!” as he waved at them. They pushed it through the false box in the back of the pub, and then Xander carried it down the corridor and past the curious gazes of people having lunch, and ran with it through the drizzle to the car.
As soon as they were back in their apartment, their mother shut herself in her office to write up some reports and to inspect the gadgets that had just arrived. Xena dumped the contents of the box onto the dining room table. “You start going through the papers,” she told Xander, counting on her brother's speed-reading ability to sort through the documents and identify which ones could be helpful. “I'll try again to figure out what some of the notes in the casebook mean.”
She left the old notebook open next to her while she booted up. Once online, she checked “Somerset House.” The name had seemed familiar when she read it in the casebook, but she couldn't place it. She found it easily on the Internet. It turned out to be one of the few museums in London that their mother hadn't
taken them to. Xena clicked on “About Us” on the museum's Web site. The original palace had been built in the seventeenth century, just like the Borogovian mansion. Could there be some connection there? She didn't see how. The museum used to be a duke's private palace. It had been rebuilt in the eighteenth century and now had art galleries, music programs, and films, and in winter there was a great-looking skating rink. It must be an interesting place, Xena thought, but what does any of this have to do with Sherlock Holmes or a missing princess? She decided to leave it for the moment and see if any of the other clues were more helpful.
taken them to. Xena clicked on “About Us” on the museum's Web site. The original palace had been built in the seventeenth century, just like the Borogovian mansion. Could there be some connection there? She didn't see how. The museum used to be a duke's private palace. It had been rebuilt in the eighteenth century and now had art galleries, music programs, and films, and in winter there was a great-looking skating rink. It must be an interesting place, Xena thought, but what does any of this have to do with Sherlock Holmes or a missing princess? She decided to leave it for the moment and see if any of the other clues were more helpful.
The next thing to figure out was that drawing of the ship in the casebook. Xena wasn't too familiar with boats, but even to her, this one looked old-fashioned. Didn't they have steamships by the late nineteenth century? This one, the one Sherlock had sketched, had lots of sails. Did Sherlock suspect that someone had taken the princess away on a ship? Why would they do that, and then come right back and return her?
Xena leaned in closer and realized that what was written on the ship must be its name.
She got Xander's magnifying glass and read
H
, then
M
, then
S
, then a long word. What was it? She squinted. Why did Sherlock have to write so small? Aha! It said “H.M.S.
Pinafore
.” She wasn't sure what a pinafore wasâan article of clothing, she thought. She looked it up in an online dictionary. It was something like an apron, and girls used to wear them to keep their clothes clean. The dictionary showed a picture from
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
to illustrate it.
H
, then
M
, then
S
, then a long word. What was it? She squinted. Why did Sherlock have to write so small? Aha! It said “H.M.S.
Pinafore
.” She wasn't sure what a pinafore wasâan article of clothing, she thought. She looked it up in an online dictionary. It was something like an apron, and girls used to wear them to keep their clothes clean. The dictionary showed a picture from
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
to illustrate it.
But the princess who had been kidnapped was much too young to wear something like that, and there were no other little girls in the household, as far as she knew. Maybe Xander had turned up something in the papersâperhaps there was a niece visiting, or a young servant. Just as Xena thought of Xander, he sneezed.
“More musty old papers,” he said. “I wish I wasn't allergic to them.” He carefully picked up a yellowed sheet, examined it, and added it to a stack. “There's nothing useful here. It's just a bunch of notes, like bills, and contracts with servants and security guards and that kind of thing. Nothing important.”
“There must be some reason why Sherlock
saved them,” Xena reminded him. “Let's go through them once more.”
saved them,” Xena reminded him. “Let's go through them once more.”
Xena began to look through the yellowed papers. She felt a moment of hope when she found a copy of a birth certificate for the baby, but it didn't say more than the fact that it was a girl named Stella, and they already knew that. There were bills from the workmen who had refurbished the palace, as well as blueprints for the addition built by King Boris and Queen Charlotte. The maze of white lines and arrows and notations on the architectural drawings meant nothing to Xena. “This isn't getting us anywhere.” She was exasperated. “What's that?” She pointed to another paper, which Xander had set aside. He leaned over her shoulder and sneezed again, this time almost right in her ear.
“Yuck!” she said. She closed the box of documents so that the musty smell would stay contained, and handed him a tissue.
“This one's kind of interesting,” Xander said. “It's a contract between Queen Charlotte and the nanny, Miss Mimsy. It must have been a pretty bad job. The nanny couldn't do
anything
but take care of the princess. She had a half day off once a week, but the rest of the time, she had to be
with the baby, night and day. She wasn't allowed to get married and couldn't even have a boyfriend. Here, this is what it says: âAs is customary, you will not marry while in my employ, as you might be tempted to allow your duties to your own family to interfere with your duties to mine.' Miss Mimsy didn't have her own room but shared it with the princess. She couldn't even make friends with the other servants.”
anything
but take care of the princess. She had a half day off once a week, but the rest of the time, she had to be
with the baby, night and day. She wasn't allowed to get married and couldn't even have a boyfriend. Here, this is what it says: âAs is customary, you will not marry while in my employ, as you might be tempted to allow your duties to your own family to interfere with your duties to mine.' Miss Mimsy didn't have her own room but shared it with the princess. She couldn't even make friends with the other servants.”
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