Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris-Theo 2 (31 page)

"But that means they're escaping!" I said in dismay. I started to run back, but Fagenbush reached out and grabbed my arm.

"No! We've got to get off this ship before Chaos decides they'd rather have revenge than a clean getaway. Besides, I was ordered to rescue you, not chase them down."

"Ordered?" I asked, momentarily distracted by this revelation. "Who ordered you to rescue me?"

"Wigmere," he said. "Now move."

C
APTAIN
B
ACON APPEARED ON DECK
just then and gave the order to locate the Abyssinians. While everyone was busy with that, Fagenbush herded me down the gangway to the dock. I must say, my shock at Fagenbush working for Wigmere had me at a bit of a loss.

As Fagenbush led me toward a waiting carriage, we saw a small crowd gathered near the water's edge of the docks. "Haul him up!" I recognized Turnbull's booming voice and altered my direction.

"Where are you going?" Fagenbush asked. "Come back!"

Just because Fagenbush claimed he was working for Wigmere didn't mean I was going to start listening to him.

I reached Turnbull and his crowd of men just in time to see them pull a wet, bedraggled, shivering Grim Nipper from the foul water. His black and green blisters had subsided, so now he just looked like a week-old bruise. Turnbull scowled. "What happened to you?"

"A mummy's curse! Gave me a mummy's curse!" The old pickpocket was babbling and hardly making any sense. He caught sight of us watching. "Her!" He pointed directly at me. "She gave me the curse!"

Everyone turned to look. The minute Turnbull's eyes landed on me, he strode in my direction. "Where's Bollingsworth? You better not have been pulling my leg, because then I'll have reason to put two Throckmortons in jail."

"He's down in the wardroom on the HMS
Dreadnought.
"

"That doesn't mean he's the one behind all this."

"Oh, I think you'll find that he is, Inspector. I think he may even have some of the stolen goods on him."

Still watching me, Turnbull called over four of his constables. "Go see if what she says is true, and if so, bring him down with you."

They took off at a trot, but the inspector stayed focused on me. "What makes you so sure he's guilty?"

Remembering Will's story, I said, "For one, we've located all the missing mummies. They are over at the Salty Dog tavern, in the cellar, I believe. You'll find that Bollingsworth has been staying there, although I'm not sure he's been using his real name."

Turnbull looked grudgingly interested. He called two more constables over and gave them instructions to get themselves over to the Salty Dog and see if all that was true. Once he'd sent them on their way, he gave me his full attention. "And how exactly do you know all this, miss?"

Oh dear! How much to tell him? I needed to stick as close to the truth as possible but not mention Will's or Snuffles's or even Wigmere's involvement!

Behind Turnbull, I saw Wigmere's carriage pull up. I needed to hold out for only a few more moments. "Well, I was desperate to get help for my father, you see, and Admiral Sopcoate had told us he would help, but he was busy today with a delegation he was taking on a tour of the
Dreadnought.
As I was rather anxious, I came down here to wait, so I could find him as soon as he was done."

Behind the inspector, I saw Wigmere, Thornleigh, and Bramfield get out and begin to make their way over to the ship.

"I happened to see the Grim Nipper, whom I recognized from the picture you'd been showing around the museum—"

"But I don't remember showing it to you!"

"No. You didn't, but I was, er, saw anyway."

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing further, so I rushed on. "When I saw him, I tried to think of a way to keep him here until you arrived, so I pushed him into the water, hoping he would never have had the chance to learn how to swim. And he hadn't."

"How did you know Bollingsworth was going to be down here?"

Oh dear. How was I going to explain that?

"Excuse me, Inspector." Fagenbush gave a short, formal bow. "If you are looking for a witness, I would be glad to offer up my services."

"You? You're the Second Assistant Curator over at the museum, aren't you? What are you doing here?"

"I saw the child leave this morning. Knowing her father was absent and her mother busy with her work, I set out after the girl thinking to catch up to her and escort her back home."

That diverted Inspector Turnbull's attention. Once again, Clive Fagenbush had come to my rescue. I hoped he wouldn't begin making a habit of that. I wasn't sure I wanted to have to change my opinion of him.

By the time Fagenbush had corroborated my story, one of the constables was heading back down the gangway.

"I just spoke to the captain. She was right, sir! Bollingsworth was there. Even better," he said, drawing closer and lowering his voice, "the captain said he had a gold guinea in his pocket, bold as brass."

I sent a silent prayer of thanks up for dear Snuffles and vowed to buy him a crate of handkerchiefs.

"Well, men have been known to carry guineas on them without any link to criminal activity," Turnbull said dryly. He turned to me. "However, coupled with everything else you've said, it appears you may be right."

I could tell by his face he hated admitting that, so I thought it rather jolly of him to be such a good sport.

"As soon as we've verified all that you've told us, if it checks out, I'll send your father home. That's the best I can promise."

"Oh, thank you, sir!"

***

It was an awkward cab ride back to the museum. Finally unable to stand it any longer, I pulled my gaze from the window and studied Clive Fagenbush. "How long have you worked for the Brotherhood?"

Fagenbush cast me a sideways glance. "Ten years."

"Really? That long?" I scooted forward on the seat. "Do
you have a tattoo as well? Right here?" I tapped the base of my throat, where I knew other members of the Brotherhood carried a symbol of protection.

"No," he said. "Not yet."

Well, what kind of member was he if he didn't have a tattoo? He couldn't be very good, then.

Almost as if reading my thoughts, Fagenbush made an impatient gesture with his hand. "I've worked for them in this capacity for only three years. It takes five to become a full member, which is when you get your tattoo. And your ring," he said, a look of dark resentment flashing across his face as he glanced down to my own hand, which bore the ring Wigmere had given me after our Heart of Egypt adventures.

"Oh. Took you a while to work up to being an agent, then, did it?"

"It wasn't that," Fagenbush said through clenched teeth.

"No, no. Of course not."

There was a long silence as his distaste of speaking with me warred with his desire to clear his own record. "I'd wanted to be one of their agents ever since I first joined. But my brother joined their service first." I waited for him to say more, but he stopped abruptly.

"And..." I prompted.

"And," he said coldly, "he was killed in the line of duty.
Wigmere refused to let me become a full agent because he felt that no mother should have to sacrifice both her sons to the Brotherhood." He returned his gaze to the window. "It wasn't until my mother passed on, three years ago, that he finally agreed to let me begin training."

I squirmed in my seat. I didn't want to know all this. It made Fagenbush much too human.

It also explained why Wigmere was so adamant that Fagenbush could be trusted.

"Here we are," Fagenbush announced without looking at me. He opened the door and stepped out of the hansom, then offered me his arm.

As I stared at the hand he held out to me, I realized I couldn't leave it floating there like a dying fish. Reminding myself that he
had
saved me—twice—I took it.

Once my feet were on the ground, however, I let go and flew toward the museum.

"Mother! Mother!" I burst into the foyer, which was empty, then rushed to the sitting room. Mother sat at the table, her head in her hands. At the sound of my voice, she looked up and tried to paste a smile onto her face. "Yes, darling?"

My good news nearly oozing out my pores, I ran right up to Mum and threw my arms around her. "I've got wonderful news. Inspector Turnbull is going to release Father!"

"What?" Mum half rose in her chair and clasped my arms in her hands to get me to slow down. "What are you saying, Theodosia?"

"It turns out it
was
Nigel Bollingsworth behind the mummy thefts, and Turnbull caught him red-handed. He found some stolen gold and knows where the missing mummies are and everything. Father's name's been cleared! As soon as Turnbull has a man free, he's going to send Father home."

"Oh, darling!" Mother wrapped me up in a huge warm hug. When she pulled back, there was a gleam in her eye. "I see no reason for your father to cool his heels in that jail cell one moment longer, do you? What do you say I run down and fetch him straightaway?"

"I say that's an excellent plan. The sooner the better," I agreed.

Mother grabbed her hat and coat and disappeared out the door. I was still so full of good cheer that I flung my arms out and twirled around, reveling in the fact that Father was going to be free, free,
free!

Once I stopped twirling and the room stopped spinning, I remembered I had a few things to do before my parents returned.

But first things first. I needed to check on the staff.

R
ESIGNED TO DESCENDING
into the catacombs alone once again, I turned on the lights, gripped my amulets in my hand, and proceeded down the stairs, nearly tripping over Isis, who sat at the foot. she was staring at the stone statue of Anubis, her tail twitching back and forth.

The jackal himself sat proudly on top of his shrine, the staff and orb settled carefully between his front paws.

"Thank you," I said. "I couldn't have done it without you." Then, even though I knew he couldn't really feel it, I reached out and scratched the top of his ears, hoping he would somehow be able to sense how pleased I was with him. There was
a whisper of movement near his backside, but when I turned to get a better look, all was still. Even so, I would have sworn his tail had wagged, just for an instant.

I left the jackal and went to the shelving to look for an old Canopic jar. Unfortunately, I'd left the execration figure in the hansom cab, and the atropaic wand was undoubtedly on the floor of the
Dreadnought's
wardroom. I was quite sorry about that, as I hated to misuse museum property.

I did have one item to return, however. Gingerly, I pulled the cursed rope from my pinafore pocket and plunked it into a jar. Then I carefully put the top back on. I'd have to come back down the next day with my curse-removal kit so I could seal the jar, but this would do till then.

As I placed the jar on the shelf, I heard a small cough at the top of the stairway. I hastened over to find Will staring down at me.

"Wigmere's come to see you," he said. "'E's waiting in the reading room."

"Oh, excellent! I have so many questions for him." I took the stairs two at a time and followed Will to the reading room. "How's Snuffles?" I asked.

Will's face brightened. "'E's sitting right pretty, 'e is. 'E proved 'imself today. Might be a future for 'im yet."

Before I had too much time to dwell on Snuffles's dubious future as a pickpocket, Will motioned me inside the room. I found Wigmere in my carrel, holding his hat in one hand and his cane in the other. He was studying something on my desk.

I must have made a sound of some sort, because Wigmere looked up just then. "Ah, good afternoon, my dear."

"Good afternoon, sir."

Wigmere gestured at my desk. "Someone is doing some very interesting work here on the Egyptian calendar."

"Oh, thank you, sir. It keeps me out of trouble. Or so Father says."

His large white mustache twitched. "Indeed. Well, it's very fine work, my girl. And speaking of fathers," he said, "yours should be home very soon."

"Yes, Mum's gone to fetch him home." It was hard to keep from dancing on my toes, but that seemed too undignified to do in front of Wigmere.

He looked me straight in the eye. "He's very lucky to have such a clever, brave daughter."

My chest felt full, as if my heart were too big to fit inside me any longer. "Thank you, sir."

"I won't keep you too long—we just have a couple of loose ends to tie up."

"Did you catch them? Sopcoate and the others?"

"No, I'm afraid they had too great a head start. We got the four that you and Will disabled. How'd you manage to give Bollingsworth such a nasty curse?"

I explained about the
mut
I'd trapped in the rope.

"Ah. Quick thinking, that. Once the curse has been removed, Bollingsworth will be imprisoned in a high-security facility along with Jacques LeBlanc, Franz Stankovich, and Yuri Popov."

I wrinkled my nose. "But sir, I thought the French and Russians were our allies?"

"And so they are. You have to remember that these men don't represent their governments any more than Nigel Bollingsworth represents ours."

I brightened. "Then that should help to take some of the pressure from the Germans, won't it?"

"Some, yes. But members of government often see only what they want to see."

"It's quite disappointing, you know. I was so hoping we'd get them this time."

"You and me both. But we'll have to settle for having thrown a wrench in their works once again." He was silent for a moment. "That was a close call." He shook his head. "A poisonous fog that can kill? We'd always thought the Fog of War to be metaphorical."

"I would have made the same assumption, sir."

"It's a perfect weapon, really. Quite hard to defend against. We'll have to hope it remains firmly in the past."

I put my hands on my hips. "Speaking of the past, sir, why didn't you tell me Fagenbush was working for you? Wouldn't that have been much simpler than letting me go on suspecting him?"