Jasper, Mr. Sprigg, and Tommy converged on the ladder at the same time and steadied it. At the apex of the ladder, Theo had wrapped his arms around one of the rungs and clung like the limpet to the underside of the ship. He stayed that way, head tucked and shoulders drawn in for a few seconds, until Francie called up, “Are you all right, Theo?”
He lifted his head and unwound his arms, then began to inch down. “Everything’s Jake,” he said, but there was a definite tremble in his voice. He stepped off the last rung and brushed down his suit coat. “I’m sorry about the ornaments, Mrs. Searsby. I do apologize. Foolish of me to be inattentive like that.”
“Don’t fret about it. As long as you’re fine, then there’s nothing to worry about. Although you did give us quite a fright.”
He chuckled, but it sounded forced. “I gave myself a fright too.” Drops of perspiration beaded his hairline. His face was still pale, and I thought he probably needed to sit down, but a maid arrived and began sweeping up the glass shards. We all stepped back, and Theo took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead. Once the floor was swept, Mrs. Searsby said, “It’s looking lovely. I’ve rung for tea, so if someone will hang these last ornaments, we can relax and admire our handiwork.”
Jasper and I did our part, placing glass decorations and arranging sparkling garlands. With the fire crackling and the scent of evergreen filling the Hall, it was a festive scene.
A maid brought in tea, and Mrs. Searsby declared, “Looks delightful! Thank you, everyone. Time for a well-earned break.”
Francie was eyeing the tree, her head tilted to the side. “Oh, bother. We forgot to put the star at the top.”
Theo’s gaze darted to the tree, the ladder, and then to Francie in a way that made me think of a mouse triangulating an escape route from a cat. Francie, her head down as she dug through a box, didn’t notice. “Ah,” she said. “Here it is.”
Mr. Sprigg stepped forward. “Allow me. Young Culwell has had enough of ladders today, I think.”
“Oh, thank you, but it won’t take a minute, and I haven’t done nearly enough today.” Francie was already climbing as she spoke, moving up the ladder with an agile lope. Once she reached the upper rungs, she held onto one side of the ladder, leaned out, and positioned the star on the top bough. Still leaning out over the tree, she looked down. “Theo, is it straight?”
He opened his mouth to say something, but only a choked sound came out. He cleared his throat. “Looks swell.”
“Good.” She came back down the ladder as rapidly as she went up. Beside me, Theo let out a shaky breath when Francie’s feet were on the flagstones.
Mrs. Searsby motioned for the ladder to be removed, then said to the footmen, “You may bring in the presents now.” She poured out the tea, then came over to me. “I forgot to mention to you earlier that you don’t need to fret about gifts. We’ll open presents after our Christmas feast tomorrow, but because so many of the people in our little gathering are not familiar with each other, Mr. Searsby and I are providing presents for a Lucky Dip.”
“Oh, wonderful.” With everything that had happened, I hadn’t even thought about gifts for guests. “Thank you. That’s a perfect solution.” With Mr. and Mrs. Searsby providing a pool of presents to choose from, we’d get the fun of opening gifts without the anxiety of trying to find an appropriate gift for people we didn’t know well.
Several footmen arrived with baskets of wrapped packages, and Mrs. Searsby said, “Here they are. The presents will be just the thing for the finishing touch.”
As the gifts were arranged under the tree, a realization hit me. “A Christmas present,” I murmured.
“Did you say something, Miss Belgrave?”
I’d been lost in thought, but Mrs. Searsby’s question brought me back to the present. “Nothing of importance.”
I caught Jasper’s eye. He disengaged himself from Miss Brinkle. I drew him away from the crowd. “A wrapped Christmas gift would be a perfect place to hide something that isn’t supposed to be seen until Christmas day.”
Jasper had been about to take a sip of his tea, but he paused with the cup halfway to his lips, then turned to me as the realization dawned on him as well. “And there were presents in Bankston’s sitting room.”
“Yes! They were the only thing we didn’t check.”
He handed his drink to a passing footman. “We’d better remedy that right away.”
We slipped away from the group around the Christmas tree. I went to find Mrs. Pickering, while Jasper rang for Grigsby and set him onto the task of discovering who had left the house on the day Bankston went to London. By the time Jasper rejoined me, I’d convinced Mrs. Pickering that we needed to see Bankston’s sitting room once more.
It was even colder in the butler’s sitting room than the Oak Hall. I crossed my arms. “Chilly in here, But I didn’t like to ask Mrs. Pickering to have a fire lit.”
“No, indeed.” Jasper removed a pair of gloves from his pocket. “She was reluctant to let us in as it was. Ah, good. The presents are still here.”
Above the empty fireplace, the gifts were stacked on the mantel on either side of the Searsby Christmas card. The presents were all labeled with names, some of which I recognized, like Ford. Only one box, a small red package tied up with gold ribbon, didn’t have a name. The tag on it read, “Place under tree in Oak Hall.”
I fingered the tag. “I bet Bankston would have handed this off to a footman and told him to place it under the tree.”
“Yes, it wouldn’t have been associated with him at all. Probably Mrs. Pickering will see that the other gifts are distributed,” Jasper said, “and she would likely do the same with this one, just place it under the tree as the tag instructs.” Jasper balanced it on the palm of his gloved hand as if he was weighing it. “A book, possibly. Do you want to do the honors, or should I?”
“Well, it depends. Are you going to try to wrap it up like it’s never been opened after you see what’s inside?”
“That’s the idea.”
“Then you’d better do it. I’d be sure to tear the wrapping in a way that couldn’t be hidden. You know patience isn’t one of my strong suits.”
“I think it best for me to refrain from commenting on that,” he teased, then went to the desk. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll do the honors.”
He put the gift in the center of the blotter and switched on the desk lamp. He smoothed the gloves over his hands, then sat down and examined each side before taking a letter opener from a drawer. He carefully loosened the knot that held the bow together. I watched over his shoulder for a few moments, then he said, “Your breathing on the back of my ear, while delightful, is a bit distracting.”
“Sorry.” I crossed the room and sat down in the easy chair. I let my gaze range around the room while Jasper hunched over the desk, making tiny movements with the letter opener. Everything was positioned just as we’d left it—the rug placed at the center of the room, the easy chair angled beside the little side table that held the stack of books. I ran my hands up and down the arms of the chair. Jasper moved the letter opener and repositioned the package. I shifted and sighed and looked around again for something to occupy myself with. I noticed a bit of paper protruding from behind the small table. Something must have been knocked off the back of the table and lodged between it and the wall.
I leaned forward and used the tip of my fingernail to pull it out. It wasn’t a single sheet of paper. It was a magazine folded open to a crossword puzzle, each square filled with neatly written letters. I could picture Bankston sitting in his chair working through the crossword with a fire burning in the grate. I pulled the sleeve of my cardigan down over my hand and picked it up. I dropped it onto my lap and, with my sleeve still shielding my fingers, turned clumsily to the cover.
I wasn’t familiar with the New England Home Companion. “I found a magazine that was dropped behind this little table. It must be one of the magazines that the servants saved for Bankston. It was published in America. Probably one of the guests who stayed here left it.”
Jasper didn’t look up. “Most likely.”
I flicked the pages, then stopped and sat up straight as a headline caught my attention. “Jasper, you must see this.”
“I’m rather engaged at the moment. Finally! Got it.” The red wrapping paper fell open to reveal a small wooden box. “Curio box,” Jasper said as he used the letter opener’s blade to lift the lid. “Empty . . . but there’s something folded to fit exactly into the lid.” A twist of the letter opener dislodged it. “A paper.” He unfolded it, then turned toward me, his face alight with satisfaction. “It’s a crossword. Of Bankston’s own making, it looks like.” He rattled the paper. “It’s got to be the cipher, which will give us the location of the letter. Now, what was it you said?”
“Listen to this headline. ‘World’s Only Snowflake Scientist.’”
Jasper’s forehead wrinkled. “I can see you’re quite worked up about it, but I fail to see . . .”
“It’s a long article about a man who photographs snowflakes with a camera and a microscope—the sole person in the world who does that—and his name isn’t Ambrose Eggers.”