A click sounded as someone pressed the switch on the wall by the door. The electric sconces that ran along the walls of the ground floor came on, bathing the room in light. In one swift, quiet movement, Jasper and I faded backward into a cleft between two of the bookcases.
Mr. Sprigg strolled down the central aisle between the two rows of shelves and went directly to the travel books. He ran his finger along the row until he came to the red spines of the Baedeker’s. He selected one, flipped it open, and removed the envelope. In one smooth motion, he put the envelope in his pocket and returned the book to the shelf. Then he reached up to the books lining the highest shelf and took one, seemingly at random. He left the library, snapping off the lights on his way out. Blackness descended, and moonlight again streamed in the windows.
I realized I was holding Jasper’s hand in a tight grip. I gave it a little shake. “Mr. Sprigg! I never would have imagined that.”
“That’s the idea. Of course, I wouldn’t have either if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” Jasper gave my hand a returning squeeze. “Now we have sight of the fox. I’ll tell Miss Ravenna in the morning—”
The library door squeaked, a higher pitch as it opened slowly. There was enough light coming in from the lancet windows that I could see Jasper’s face, and I mouthed the words, did he forget something?
Jasper lifted his shoulder in a shrug. On the ground floor, a torch switched on and a beam of light swept back and forth as someone walked down the central aisle. I couldn’t see the face of the man who’d entered, but I could tell from the silhouette that he was too slight to be Mr. Sprigg. The man carried something heavy in his left hand, which caused his shoulders to slope. He went directly to the end of the room and stopped at a table under the tall windows.
The beam from the torch cut upward and sliced wildly along the vaulted ceiling as he heaved something onto a table. He turned and went back to the bookshelves, the spotlight of the torch dancing over the rich shades of the carpet. It was only when he aimed the beam on one of the higher shelves that the light reflected off the man’s spectacles.
“Mr. Eggers!” I breathed. The glow of the torch illuminated his face as he scanned the spines.
“And he looks fully recovered too,” Jasper said, his volume barely above a whisper.
Mr. Eggers took down a heavy book with a worn cover and a spine several inches thick, his movements careful and precise. He cradled it in the crook of his elbow, then walked across the aisle to another bookshelf with his exact, mincing stride. The spotlight of the torch ran along the spines, then he removed another book, this one smaller and fatter.
Mr. Eggers returned to the table at the end of the library. He switched on a reading lamp, and its hooded glow shined on the object he’d hauled onto the table earlier, a large suitcase. He switched off the torch and dropped it into the pocket of the overcoat he wore.
He set the books down reverently at one end of the table, then unfastened the suitcase and flipped it open. He removed a blanket and smoothed it out on the table. Then he took the larger book and put it in the center of the blanket. The desk lamp glinted on pieces of metal at the edge of the cover. They looked like metal clamps. At one time they had probably been attached to leather straps that had fastened the book closed. I leaned forward, but before I could get a better look, Mr. Eggers wrapped the blanket around the book as if swaddling a baby. He stowed the bundle in the suitcase, then removed another piece of thinner fabric and shook it out.
I put my lips beside Jasper’s ear. Mr. Eggers was at the distant end of the library. I was sure he wouldn’t hear us if we kept our voices low enough. “He’s stealing the books! And he looks like he intends to leave the house right away. Maybe this is why Mr. Eggers killed Bankston? The books must be valuable. What do you think? Can you see what he took from the shelves?”
The skin around Jasper’s eyes wrinkled as he squinted over the long distance, then he gave a small shake of his head. “Not well enough to know which books he took. They certainly looked aged. Depending on their rarity, they might be quite valuable.”
Mr. Eggers had spread the lighter-weight fabric on the table under the light. I recognized the embroidery on the hem. It was a pillowcase with the initials of Holly Hill Lodge stitched into an intricate pattern of holly. He picked up the smaller book and paused, letting it fall open in his hand. Even from a distance I could see the bright colors inside. Rich red, deep cobalt blue, and sparkling gold glowed from one side of the page. A splash of color filled a small square at the top of the facing one. Dense, dark text marched across the rest of that page.
Jasper sucked in a breath. “An illustrated manuscript—the cad!”
I tensed, afraid that Jasper’s words had carried, but Mr. Eggers was absorbed in his study of the book. He adjusted his glasses and looked at a few more pages, which were just as vividly colored. He fingered a tear on the edges and gave a grunt of disappointment. “Well, no matter,” he said quietly as he closed the book and wrapped it. “You’ll still fetch a nice price.” He fit the second bundle into the suitcase. His attention was on tucking it into place, and he missed the sound of a dog’s claws as they clicked against hardwood.
But I was aware of it and inched forward. Zeus had already trotted across the short uncarpeted stretch between the door and the large rugs that carpeted the library. He held his red ball in his mouth and moved jauntily down the central aisle. I caught my breath. If he came up the stairs, he might give away the fact that Jasper and I were hiding in the gallery. But Zeus didn’t veer from his course. He went directly to Mr. Eggers and sat on his haunches inside the circle of light thrown by the lamp. Mr. Eggers snapped the suitcase closed and waved his hand. “Go! Shoo! Go on!”
Zeus popped up, turned in a circle, then sat again, his tail whipping back and forth. Mr. Eggers jerked the suitcase off the table and shook it in the direction of the Jack Russell. Zeus dropped the ball, whisked to the side, then disappeared into the shadows beyond the lamp’s spotlight.
Mr. Eggers buttoned his overcoat and switched off the light before picking up the suitcase. I expected him to turn to the main door of the library, but he moved in the opposite direction. He opened one of the glass doors, set the suitcase outside, and closed the door behind him.
Jasper and I darted to the stairs. As we circled down, I said, “You go after him.” Jasper, with his longer legs and tall frame, had a better chance of catching Mr. Eggers than I did. “I’ll telephone the village constable. They can stop him in Chipping Bascomb.”
Jasper dodged through the tables and armchairs. “Unless he has a motor waiting for him outside the gates.”
I hadn’t thought of that. I was halfway across the library when Jasper threw open the door and let out an exclamation that caused me to reverse. Cold air coursing through the open door engulfed me. I ran onto the terrace.
Jasper was already down the set of shallow steps and at the first level of the terraced gardens. “Skis!” He shouted over as he plowed through the snow after Mr. Eggers. “He had a pair hidden down here next to the base of the stairs.”
The tiered gardens dropped in small increments of a step or two, and with the deep blanket of snow, Mr. Eggers was coasting down the gradual decline. His arms were wrapped around the suitcase, which he held clutched to his midsection as he hunched forward.
The grounds sloped away from the knoll where Holly Hill Lodge was situated. Mr. Eggers could glide all the way from the mansion to the gates or even to the village. As long as he kept his feet underneath him, the skis gave Mr. Eggers an advantage that Jasper wouldn’t be able to overcome. He’d never be able to catch him.
Mr. Eggers had heard Jasper’s shout. He flicked a look over his shoulder, then crouched lower and picked up speed. The distance between them widened even as I watched, unable to do anything except telephone the constable. I turned back to the house and nearly fell over Zeus, who was prancing back and forth, leaving little paw prints in the snow, eager to participate in our game.
I darted into the library, then stopped when I saw Zeus’s red ball. I snatched it up and raced back into the frigid night. Zeus bounced along at my side as if he were on a spring, jumping up in an attempt to get the ball.
“No, Zeus. This throw isn’t for you.” I rushed to the edge of the terrace. Snow filtered into my shoes and clumped around my ankles. I heaved the ball at Mr. Eggers as he sailed along the surface of the snow.
I’d aimed for his head. The red ball sailed by his left ear, but he flinched, lost his balance, and fell into the snow with a plop. With his skis in a tangle and the heavy suitcase pinning him to the snow, Jasper was on Mr. Eggers before he could right himself.
Zeus had flown down the steps as soon as I released the ball. He plowed through the snow ahead of me, kicking up little plumes as he made his way toward the men.
I reached them as Jasper bent over Mr. Eggers, whose panicked tones carried through the still night. “Don’t hit me! Don’t hit me! I’ll come quietly.”
Jasper picked up a ski that had come off Mr. Eggers’ foot. “Glad to hear it. Best decision you’ve made all day. And no need to worry. I wouldn’t bruise my knuckles by connecting them with your face.”
Jasper removed the other ski, then hauled Mr. Eggers to his feet and twisted one of his arms behind him. I wasn’t sure the last bit was necessary. Mr. Eggers didn’t resist when Jasper turned him in the direction of the house. “Well done, Olive,” Jasper said. “You’d do a cricket team proud.”
“Thank you. I’ll gather up the skis and this suitcase and meet you at the house.”
“Jolly good,” Jasper said to me, then gave Mr. Eggers a nudge. “Off we go.”
I followed them with the skis balanced on my shoulder and the suitcase in the other hand.
Zeus bounded up and circled around us the whole way, the red ball gripped in his teeth.