CHAPTER 5

AN UPSET HOUSEHOLD

WITHIN MOMENTS WE had on our robes and slippers and found Hector in the hallway tying the cord to his own quilted bed jacket. It was much broader in the shoulders than his body required, and I suspected it was a loan from the vicar in Torquay.

Another shriek sped us down to the second floor, at the front of the house.

“Juliet suite,” said Lucy, nearly breathless as we ran. “Where the Sivams are staying.”

Rounding a final corner, we found ourselves in the midst of a gathering of servants, all wearing nightclothes. Pressman, the butler, had an ear to one of the doors, unnecessarily, as the wailing within was audible to all of us. As we arrived from one direction, James and Marjorie arrived from the other. The noise stopped abruptly and the door flew open. Pressman hopped backward amidst a chorus of gasps from the maids. Mrs. Frost, the housekeeper, shushed them with a glare and flapped her hand to shoo them back a few paces.

But who would not be alarmed at the sight of Mrs. Sivam, her face blotched and hair wild? Her husband appeared at her shoulder, his worried eyes meeting those of his host.

“We apologize for the disturbance, my friends,” said Mr. Sivam. “My wife has had a fright.” He glanced toward the cluster of servants still hovering in the passage. “It seems we’ve had an intruder.” His grip tightened around the woman now trembling under his arm. “I wonder…”

“May I be of assistance?” Mr. Pressman threw back his shoulders and stood as rigidly straight as if he were in his formal butler garb instead of a woolly tartan dressing gown.

“Make a quick circuit of the doors, will you, Pressman?” said James.

The butler nodded and strode away in his slippers.

“Kitty is shivering.” Marjorie placed a calming hand on Mrs. Sivam’s shoulder. “Mrs. Frost, will you provide a cup of sweet tea?”

The housekeeper sent one of the maids to make tea, and then barked at the others to go along too. Poor luck, I thought. Roused and fussed in the middle of the night and not allowed to watch! It could happen to us at any moment, as children were never welcome at moments of high drama. I signaled Hector and Lucy with a finger to my lips and we kept still in the shadows.

Kitty refused to go back inside the suite, so it was Marjorie who fetched a blanket. Mr. Sivam and James had a hurried whispered exchange, but we were not close enough to hear. Mr. Sivam held his precious box, and shook his head when James offered to take it.

Kitty Sivam, warmly wrapped and calmer, began to tell what had frightened her so.

She’d been startled awake, by a bump, perhaps? As if someone had collided with the washstand in the dark. She could see from her bed that the door connecting her room to that of her husband was half ajar. Lakshay’s window was firmly shut. Her own window was open, overlooking the glass-paned roof of the conservatory, presently covered in snow. No intruder could have entered that way. She was not certain that she had locked her door to the passage. Why would she, in so friendly a household?

What she saw, peering into the dark, was a figure frozen to the spot by her sudden gasp. He seemed broad and tall, but perhaps the shadows had exaggerated his size. He waited, in silence. Kitty pulled the bedclothes over her head and did not see which way he went. She heard a scuffling and felt a draft, though from where she could not say. She mustered her courage and went to the connecting door. Her husband’s bureau had been plundered. She began to scream, waking him and everyone else.

She came to the end of her tale with a ragged little sob.

“Ssh,” said Mr. Sivam. “It’s all over.” He guided his wife, protesting only faintly now, back into their suite.

Mr. Pressman returned along the passage.

“Windows and doors are secure, my lord. All the servants are accounted for. I have footmen circling the grounds with torches, to see if we can flush the scoundrel.”

“Thank you, Pressman,” James said. “I presume they’ll be alert to footprints in the snow? And not disturbing anything unexpected with their own boots?”

“Indeed, my lord, though the snow is falling thickly.”

James sighed. “What time is it?” he said.

“Ten minutes past four, my lord.”

“I think we might all try for another hour of sleep, don’t you? Best to avoid waking my mother. Perhaps a visit from the constabulary in the morning?”

“My lord.”

Hector tapped my elbow. Lucy and I followed him around the corner where we paused to whisper.

“If a thief is outside, he is gone by now,” said Hector.

“And his footprints already covered with fresh snow,” I said.

“Uncle James should call the police,” said Lucy, “and summon dogs to chase the man down.”

“I believe this would be of no use,” said Hector. “Logic tells me that whoever is wishing to steal the jewel…”

I caught his meaning at once. “He is very probably still inside the house!”