Goodly and Grave in a Deadly Case of Murder. Justine Windsor

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      Beguildy looked decidedly pouty as he and Prudence joined everyone else at the table, where Smell was still meandering around the notebook, stopping every now and then to gingerly sniff at it.

      “If only my detector hadn’t been broken.” Lord Percy sighed regretfully. The silver pencil-like detector had been smashed to pieces when the angel attacked Lord Grave.

      “I don’t need no detector, not with my nose,” Smell replied. “This thing reeks of magic. But not a type of magic I’ve smelled before.”

      “What does this mean? Does anyone know?” Prudence asked, pointing to the symbol that decorated the edges of the notebook’s pages in a repeating pattern. It was a snake holding its tail in its mouth.

      “The snake ouroboros,” Lord Percy said thoughtfully. “An ancient symbol in alchemy. It can mean a number of things: infinity, creation, destruction.”

      Before anyone could ask any questions about the snake ouroboros, the door opened once again. This time, Lord Grave wobbled into the room. He was dressed in his nightshirt, dressing gown and slippers and had a large bandage wrapped round his head. Bertie was hovering anxiously behind him.

      Prudence rushed forward to help Lord Grave. He resisted at first, but then leaned on her arm and tottered over to the table where the notebook lay open.

      “You should be in bed, Lord Grave!” Prudence said.

      “That’s what I told him!” Bertie agreed.

      “Too much to do,” Lord Grave said, half falling into the chair that Lord Percy had hastily pulled out for him. “Lucy. Are you all right? You look exhausted.”

      “I’m fine,” Lucy said, although in truth she was feeling horribly tired now and was finding it hard to concentrate.

      “Now, has anyone any ideas about this notebook?”

      Prudence began fussing around Lord Grave. “Your bandage is coming loose, let me just—”

      “Prudence!” Lord Grave said a little snappily. Then more gently, he added, “I appreciate the concern, Prue, my dear. But there’s no need for it. I’m perfectly well.”

      Prudence looked rather upset. As she dejectedly sat down next to her brother, her gaze met Lucy’s and they exchanged sympathetic smiles, although Prudence’s was slightly tremulous round the edges.

      “Smell is certain that the notebook has magical properties,” Lord Percy said. “But we haven’t progressed any further than that.”

      Lord Grave rubbed his forehead wearily, as though his head ached. Which was quite possible given he had recently been clonked over the head by a stone fist. “I think we should call in Angus Reedy.”

      “Good idea,” Lord Percy said. “An experienced bookbinder like him should be able to give us some insight. I could send him one of my chits?”

      “Yes, thank you. I believe he’s on his way back from France, but the chit should still find him.”

      Lucy was very curious to find out what a chit was, so she watched carefully as Lord Percy went over to a writing bureau that stood against the wall next to the window. He opened it, took out a sheet of paper from one of the numerous drawers inside, and wrote a message on it, before rolling it up. He then carried it over to the window, which he unfastened. He placed the tube of paper in the palm of his hand and spoke to it. “Angus Reedy. Believed to be travelling back to England from France.”

      There was a buzzing noise. The paper trembled and sprouted two tiny wings. It flew out of Lord Percy’s hand and buzzed off out of the window.

      “That’s amazing!” Lucy said. Although she was becoming more and more used to seeing magic now, much of it still surprised and delighted her.

      “Another of Lord Percy’s clever contraptions,” Lady Sibyl said, looking fondly at him.

      “It really is excellent,” Lucy said to Lord Percy, whose face creased into a rare smile.

      “I suppose there’s not much more to be done tonight,” Lord Grave said, bracing his hands against the arms of his chair and easing himself upright. “I suggest we all get some sleep.”

      Lucy made her way to bed, feeling more exhausted than ever. Her bedroom, which she shared with Becky Bone, was high under the eaves at the front of Grave Hall. Lucy didn’t like sharing a room with Becky, who could be grumpy and unpleasant, but she loved the view her from bedroom window as she could see out over to Grave Hall’s wildlife park. She could have happily spent hours watching the animals. There were so many fascinating creatures roaming around. Elephants (Lucy once had an unfortunate run-in with one of them), giraffes (ditto), lions, zebras and numerous other animals, as well as an abundance of birds. And Bathsheba was there too at times, of course. Although the panther spent her days padding around after Lord Grave, at night she slept in her hut in the wildlife park, because she had a regrettable habit of raiding the kitchen when everyone was asleep.

      Lucy always liked to have a last look out of the window each evening before going to bed. Treading carefully so as not to wake Becky, who would give Lucy a bad-tempered earful if woken, she went to the window and opened the curtains a little. Under the bright stars, the wildlife park was calm and still apart from the shadowy outline of one of the giraffes strolling along. Bertie had informed her that giraffes only slept in short bursts because they had to get up frequently to keep their circulation moving.

      Eventually Lucy yawned and closed the curtains. She changed into her nightgown and slipped into bed. Narrowly escaping death at the hands of a stone angel really was a tiring business and she was looking forward to having a good rest.

      It seemed as though she’d only been sleeping for a few minutes when the screaming woke her.

      

       CHAPTER SIX

       THE BREAK-IN

      Lucy leaped out of bed and stood shivering in the dark. Something banged in the house below.

      “Did you hear that, Goodly?” Becky asked, sounding frightened. Lucy could see the housemaid’s shadowy form sitting up in bed.

      “Y-yes.”

      Usually Becky would have made a nasty comment about Lucy’s shaky reply as she never missed a chance to be horrid. But fear seemed to be bringing out her best side as she simply said, “We need some light.”

      There was the scrape of a match and welcome candlelight began to flicker and glow. United for once, Lucy and Becky hurried out into the hallway. Mrs Crawley was already there, carrying a candle. She was wearing a pair of unlaced boots and had flung a coat over her beribboned nightdress, but her beard was still in the three plaits she always wore it in for bed. She looked unusually stern.

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