URSA MAJOR
URSA MAJOR
AFTER LISTENING TO DARLENE recount what had happened in the ballroom, Hetty found herself both amused and a bit alarmed.
“You shot Nathan Payne?” Hetty asked.
“I did a poor job about it,” Darlene complained as she looked up from the sketchbook in her lap. “The pistol was heavier than I expected, so I missed him.”
“He didn’t miss you.” Penelope grimly sat back in her chair, with a bowl of puce-colored paste. “This should get the rest of the poison out so your cut will heal properly.”
Ironically, despite Hetty hurting her ankle and inhaling a great deal of smoke, Darlene ended up hurt the worst. Although Benjy had caught Darlene before she plummeted from the balcony, Payne had scratched her with a knife coated with a particularly tricky poison.
Because it was on the list of poisons that had gotten stolen from an herbal shop, Penelope was well prepared for it. But she was not up to having multiple patients at once. Declaring that Hetty was not dying anytime soon, Penelope gave Hetty a healing tonic that would mend her ankle, ordered her to stay in bed half the day, and then retreated back to Darlene’s home.
Upon arriving at the apartment that afternoon, Hetty made a few jokes about being poorly treated, but only when it was clear that Darlene was bored and restless at being confined to her bed.
“Luckily Payne got my left arm,” Darlene said, as Penelope busied herself with checking on the bandages. “Or I wouldn’t be able to help you now. I can draw copies of Eudora Mason if you like.”
“Just the one will be fine. We’re going to give it to Sy to carry around.” Hetty leaned back in her chair, trying not to tap her foot. Her ankle was healed enough to walk all the way out here, but it was tender and she was conscious of the injury. “It’s better for him to do it. He’s got one of those faces people don’t always remember.”
Penelope snorted. “I’d keep that detail to myself.”
“Why?” Hetty asked, rather puzzled. “It’s a really good thing. It means you don’t have to use elaborate disguises.”
“Well, luckily for you, Eudora Mason does not.” Darlene dropped her pencil and handed the sketchbook to Hetty. “Will this do?”
“Of course it will,” Hetty said, glancing at the drawing. Darlene had only really seen Eudora back at the tent in Camden, but that glance was all she needed to render the woman now, and even strip away the trappings to reveal what the woman looked like when she wasn’t putting on a performance.
“The case is mostly done. We just need to tie down one last loose end,” Hetty said. “And if we don’t do it soon enough, well, everything else is for naught.”
“Think she’ll skip town?” Darlene asked.
“I would have if I were her,” Penelope said.
Hetty shook her head. “She wants something from us. Emily Jacobs.”
“And this buried treasure.” Darlene slumped against the pillows propping her up. “If I only knew back then—”
“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” Hetty said. “And I would have done everything I did back then all the same.”
“I can think of a few things I would have changed,” Benjy said as he poked his head in the bedroom. “Mainly not losing the air balloon.”
“How did you lose the air balloon?” Penelope asked.
“In the worst way possible.” Hetty sighed.
“Where’s George?” Darlene asked, shifting forward a bit. “Didn’t he go with you?”
“Don’t worry.” Benjy looked around for a place to sit, but then settled on leaning against the wall. “He just went to get the baby.”
No sooner did he speak than George walked in with a cranky-looking Lorene. The baby was a few moments away from screaming her lungs out, but once she saw the adults gathered in the room, she was all smiles, even before she was placed in her mother’s arms.
“I think she’s getting spoiled by all this attention,” Hetty remarked as George perched on the edge of his bed.
“She just knows something interesting is occurring whenever you’re here.” Darlene wrapped her arms around her daughter so the baby could face outward to the group.
“What did Adelaide say?” Hetty asked.
“Didn’t see her at the house. Only her cousin was there,” Benjy answered. “He doesn’t know anything that’s going on. And the address I managed to get from him for Eudora Mason leads to an abandoned lot.”
“A fake to the very end,” Hetty said.
“We asked around at boardinghouses, hotels, and the like. Couldn’t get across the river, because it’s Sunday,” George added.
“No need to worry about that,” Hetty said.
“I want to do this.” George’s eyes drifted over to Darlene. “This woman is free to do whatever she likes simply because she can’t be found.”
Hetty shook her head. “We know where she’ll be next. She’ll be at the funeral.”
“You’re still having it?” Penelope asked. “After all that’s happened!”
Hetty shrugged. “Nothing changed, and Adelaide still wants to hold it. She wants to put all this behind her.”
“What did she think would happen otherwise?” George asked. “Her brother’s ghost shows up with a list of complaints?”
“It would be quite a spectacle,” Benjy began.
“More entertaining than the last play we put on—and that included creating a shipwreck in your parlor!” George declared. “It’d be a rather haunting type of show, wouldn’t it?”
He laughed at his poor joke. It was all Hetty could do to stop herself from rolling her eyes, which was why she was surprised when Benjy snapped his fingers, crying out, “You’re absolutely right!”
George sat up, his eyes comically wide in shock. “You all heard him say that. I’m not imagining things?”
“Yes, and I think he must have inhaled too much smoke last night,” Penelope said with a great deal of alarm.
“I’m fine,” Benjy said. “It’s just that George is right. A ghost would be perfect for the funeral.”
“Penelope,” Hetty said, growing greatly worried at these words. “Go get whatever potions you need. He can’t be feeling well if he’s saying that.”
“No, no,” Benjy laughed. “I’m talking about making the funeral a bit more theatrical.”
“Oh,” Darlene exclaimed. “You mean make it like one of the plays. Now, that’s an interesting plan!”
“And easily done,” Hetty said, seeing where Benjy was going with this. “It’s one big trick, we just got to time it right.”
“Whatever you end up doing, you’ll need help,” Penelope said.
“Well, putting on shows is what we do best.” Darlene nodded. “You need to tell Oliver and Thomas about this. They’ll have some good ideas.”
“Oliver will want to write the script,” George snickered.
“They’re back at Juniper Street,” Hetty said, “and we’ll need more than just their help. Penelope, what about your cousins? I know Sy will help, but what about Rosie, Maybelle, even Jobelle and the rest?”
“I can ask,” Penelope said. She added shyly, “You should mention this to Temperance. Surely she’ll help.”
“Temperance? Who is Temperance?” George asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” Darlene said, patting his arm, “but it won’t be as good as the story as Hetty tells!”
They talked a bit more about the plan, but not for much longer.
“Penelope is right, we should ask for Temperance Murray’s help,” Hetty remarked when they left Darlene and George’s apartment behind. “She’s been helpful this whole time.”
“To talk to her, you know where we need to go,” Benjy remarked. “Can you manage to walk there?”
Hetty knew she could, but that wasn’t what Benjy was asking.
“We need to talk to Bernice,” Hetty said, “and it’s best to do so now, when she’s primed to feel guilty about it.”
Although Hetty had several stories ready for the occasion, she didn’t need to use a single one.
Cora already had that handled.
Temperance Murray had answered the door when they knocked at Bernice Tanner’s tidy little house on Society Hill. And before they could even tell her about the theatrics they had planned for the funeral, they heard Cora’s voice in the parlor.
Cora and Jay sat across from their old friend, sitting in stiff-backed chairs. Although the summer evening was rather balmy, inside the room the air was quite frigid.
“Henrietta! Benjamin!” Jay said, being the first to notice them. “What are you doing here?”
“I want to ask the same of you,” Hetty said.
“We’ve come to ask questions from my good friend,” Cora said, not moving her gaze away from Bernice. “Like the important information she withheld. She might not be the murderer, but people are dead because of her!”
“You cannot expect me to take the blame for another’s actions. Raimond didn’t tell me everything. I don’t even know about the pamphlet. I didn’t think it was important.”
“You moved the world to catch stars for Sarah Jacobs all those years ago. You knew it was important then!”
“Cora,” Hetty said softly, “it’s fine. The only one to blame is Eudora—Dora Reynolds. We have a plan to catch her, but we need your help. It’s going to be done at the funeral. But we’re going to do it like we’d do it in a play.”
“A play?”
A new voice entered the room. Adelaide Duval had been sitting in the far corner, hidden by an overgrown potted plant.
Although she looked like she had not slept at all the previous night, her eyes were bright and alert.
“Darlene told me about the plays you put on. How will this work with my brother’s funeral? Will it capture this woman who took my family from me?”
“If all goes well, we will,” Benjy said.
“But if you don’t want us to, we can come up with a different plan,” Hetty said.
“Nonsense.” Adelaide waved a hand. “I wanted a private ceremony for my brother anyway.”
As Hetty looked on, puzzled, a thin smile appeared on Adelaide’s face. “Do you really think I want my brother to actually be in the casket when all this occurs? There should be two ceremonies. The false performance, and the true one held afterward.”
With this settled, they easily got a promise of help from Temperance, who offered it before it was asked of her.
On the way back home, Hetty and Benjy bumped into Sy Caldwell at their front door.
“Leaving or arriving?” Benjy asked the young man.
“Leaving,” Sy said, “but I can stay. Thomas wasn’t sure when you’d return, and I didn’t want to linger here all night. Got news for you.”
Oliver and Thomas were sitting in the parlor, and their conversation changed the moment the other three entered.
Sy sat down in a chair and settled in to tell them about his adventures for the day.
“I’ll start with the biggest piece. The hotel is gone, all ashes,” Sy said. “Nothing can be saved, and they say it’s a miracle injuries were limited and there are no reported deaths.”
“It shouldn’t be gone,” Benjy remarked. He sat at the window seat with his hand folded under his chin; his attention was far away as usual. “There should be something of the foundation left.”
“I saw it with my own two eyes,” Sy said. “Nothing’s there.”
“Then it was done on purpose,” Hetty said. Thinking of Nathan Payne speared by the beam, and the threats to do the same or worse to her. “To hide what happened.”
“Rumor is it’s not enough. There is talk about a magical fire,” Sy said.
“Well, it’s not the only fire that occurred lately,” Oliver pointed out.
“What about Emily Jacobs?” Hetty asked.
Sy shook his head. “Nothing. All this rain disrupted any magic I could use to follow her. I asked all over town, but no one I talked to heard anything about a young girl looking for sanctuary, or even asking around for you by name. The Duval name didn’t turn up anything new, either.”
“She’s too smart for that,” Benjy said. “She gave Bernice Tanner the slip several times already, and trust me, that takes some skill.”
“From all you said, it might be best if she says hidden,” Oliver said. “I would. I’d even go back home.”
“But she came here for a reason.” Hetty tapped her fingers against the couch. “Emily came here on her own. Something prompted her; no outside forces brought her here. It might be the Clarke Cipher or something else, but she’s looking for us. So, I know she must still be in the city.”
Sy looked to Benjy.
“It’ll be dark soon, no need to keep searching,” he said. “When she wants to be found, she’ll turn up.”
“I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “I was here all day. No one’s come around. Nor has your nosy neighbor complained of seeing anyone.”
“Finding her is crucial, especially if we can do so by tomorrow,” Hetty said.
“Isn’t the funeral tomorrow?” Oliver cried. “Don’t tell me you canceled it!”
“We haven’t, we just tweaked a few things and need your help to do more.”
Hetty quickly explained the plan. Because she had Adelaide’s approval, Hetty added details she hadn’t discussed yet with anyone else. She wasn’t surprised that Oliver and Thomas asked the most questions. Coming together to put on plays had been their idea, and Thomas often served as the director, keeping everyone on task.
Which was why Hetty half expected less than enthusiastic reactions to this plan.
But she’d underestimated both her friends’ willingness to help and the eagerness to embellish her plan further. Just as everyone else agreed with only a crumb of an idea, with more details, conversation moved swiftly about how much could be done before the night was over.
Sy left with a list of tasks, including recruitment of his family, if Penelope’s overtures had not been enough. Soon Thomas and Oliver were preparing to leave, to go see Darlene and the others and inform them of the changes.
“Only you would come up with such a thing.” Oliver shook his head as Hetty walked with him to the door. “But if it works—”
“It will,” Hetty said.
“Not all your plans do,” Oliver pointed out.
“This isn’t just her plan. You also made several good suggestions,” Benjy reminded him.
“So I did,” Oliver laughed. “Thomas, are you going to meet me at home or George and Darlene’s?”
“I’m coming.” Thomas hurried, pausing only to tap Hetty on the shoulder. “I made you dinner. Eat it before you join the rest.” He gave them very stern looks. “And it’s good—you can ask your neighbor’s daughter.”
Hetty blinked at Thomas. “Our neighbor’s daughter?”
“Might be granddaughter.” Thomas shrugged. “Didn’t ask. I had the window open to let out some steam. She peered around the fence and said it smelled good. So I gave her some. I flatter easily.”
“Too easily,” Oliver said. They exchanged a look, which meant Hetty had time to rearrange her features to something they wouldn’t worry about.
“Go on,” Hetty encouraged him with a strained smile. “We’ll meet you later.”
“We’ll be there.” Oliver pulled on his hat. “Happy stars over your heads.”
Hetty shut the door behind them and locked it.
“Mrs. Holloway does not have any family in town,” Hetty whispered. “I don’t know who that could be.”
“Only one way to find out.”
Without needing to say a word more, they marched toward the kitchen.
The moment Hetty opened the door, crows flooded in. Not just the small family that nested on their roof, but it seemed like their entire extended family, with at least a dozen or more birds streaming through the kitchen.
Benjy pulled her back, and they were surrounded by feathers and flapping wings.
“I told you if you keep feeding them this would happen!”
“That can’t be it!” Hetty called.
Instead of pecking at her, the crow pulled at her clothes urgently. A few others flipped around to point toward the open door.
“They’re trying to tell us something!” Hetty said as she went into the yard.
The crows, realizing they got the message, reversed course. They rushed past her, and every single one landed on Benjy’s new workshop.
The lead crow was the last to land. It perched atop the door and pointedly tapped its foot on the wood. The message was clear. This door shouldn’t have been open, even by the tiniest of cracks.
Benjy padded softly toward the shed, his left hand engulfed with swirling raw magic.
Hetty fell back, although she stayed close enough to see.
He pulled the door open, and the magic that had been swirling around him faded.
Huddled in the middle of the shed was a tangle of limbs. A sight they saw only for moments before a hammer swung out wildly at them.
Benjy deftly caught it, as well as the slender fist that followed.
“I wouldn’t do that,” he said softly as the little intruder fought vainly against his grip. “You’re the one that came looking for help. Why are you surprised that it found you?”
The struggling stopped. And the face that peered up at them had the same suspicious look as it had many years ago when they woke her one night from her bed in Tennessee, telling her they were taking her to her mother.
“So this is where you were hiding,” Hetty observed as Emily Jacobs blinked up at them. “No wonder no one could find her. She was here the whole time!”
Emily had passed the day in their neighbor’s cellar. That door was loose enough for her to get inside, unlike the door to their cellar. Emily had only had the names of Sparrow and Finch to guide her, but they were enough to get this far. When she’d arrived early in the morning, she’d seen lots of people through the window, but not any sign of Hetty or Benjy. It seemed she got the wrong place, but it started to rain hard. Mrs. Holloway’s cellar door was propped a bit open, so she hid in there and fell asleep while waiting out the rain. She woke when she heard their neighbor heading into the cellar, so she snuck out, intending to return once danger had passed. But she smelled food, and she was too hungry to stop herself from asking Thomas for some. While his gift had staved off the worst of her hunger pangs, it left her locked out of the cellar, so she chose the next best thing: the shed.
“You went through all that trouble to find us, and you still attacked,” Benjy pointed out to the girl.
Emily tapped her fingers against the kitchen table, her face betraying a trace of embarrassment. “You scared me.”
“Why were you looking for us?” Hetty asked.
“Mama always spoke so highly of you,” Emily replied, “and from her stories I knew I could trust you.”
“Not Bernice Tanner?”
“Miss Bernice hears lots of things, but she doesn’t listen,” Emily said.
Hetty chuckled, appreciating the candor. “I can agree with that.”
“Once she found me, she kept telling me to do this and that, and wouldn’t listen when I told her I knew nothing about the key for the Clarke Cipher.”
Benjy stiffened at these words, but it was Hetty who asked: “A key?”
“Not a real key,” the girl insisted. “It’s a book.”
Benjy slapped his face. “A key text! I should have known!”
“What’s a key text?” Hetty asked.
“A book is used to build the cipher,” Benjy said in a rush. “Sometimes it’s a single page, sometimes it’s the whole book. Either way, the key text helps to decode a cipher, and it’s nearly impossible to break it without it. What book was it?”
“By the Archway’s Light,” Emily replied.
Benjy’s face fell. “We don’t have that book. I never even heard of it.”
But Hetty was already on her feet, her heart racing in excitement. “I have. We have it. Sy and Rosie brought it over with all of Raimond Duval’s books. It’s in the study!”