Crescent Dawn (Dirk Pitt 21)

Slowly sliding off the buffet and onto her feet, she surveyed the source of the loud crash. Scattered about the floor were spoons, teacups, and saucers from a large formal tea set that had been sent flying when she kicked open the door.

Summer ruefully brushed herself off, hiding her grease-stained hands as she smiled at the collected gawkers.

“I do hate to miss teatime,” she said apologetically, then quickly scurried from the room.

She ran into Aldrich in the hall as he rushed toward the commotion and redirected him to help Julie. Together, they dashed down the stairs and unlocked the pantry door. A relieved Julie smiled at the sight of Summer.

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“I heard a terrible crash. Is everything all right?” she asked.

“Yes,” Summer grinned, “but I might owe Aldrich a new tea set.”

“Poppycock!” the old man grunted. “Now, tell me again who locked you in here.”

Julie described Bannister and his motorcycle attire.

“Sounds like that fellow Baker,” Aldrich said. “Checked out this morning.”

“What do you know of him?” Summer asked.

“Not much, I’m afraid. Said he was a writer living in London who was down for a golf holiday. But I vaguely remember him visiting before, must be four or five years ago. I recall letting him into the archives. He’s quite knowledgeable about the Earl. In fact, he was the one who also inquired about Emily.”

Julie and Summer looked at each other knowingly, then Summer stepped back into the pantry.

“Would you like me to call the police?” Aldrich asked.

Julie thought for a moment. “No, I don’t suppose that will be necessary. He has what he came looking for, so I don’t think he’ll be bothering us again. Besides, I’m sure he gave you a phony name and address in London.”

“He’s going to get more than a piece of my mind if he shows up here again,” Aldrich huffed. “You poor dears. Please, come upstairs and have some tea.”

“Thank you, Aldrich. We’ll be right along.”

As Aldrich strutted off, Julie sat down on a Queen Anne bench beside some covered furniture and breathed heavily. Summer exited the pantry a second later, noting a paleness in Julie’s face.

“You all right?” Summer asked.

“Yes. Didn’t want to admit it, but I am a bit claustrophobic. I don’t care to experience that feeling again anytime soon.”

Summer turned and closed the heavy door behind her.

“No need for either of us to set foot in there again,” she said. “Where’s Aldrich?”

“He went upstairs to make us some tea.”

“I hope he can find some cups.”

Julie shook her head with a disappointed grimace.

“I can’t believe it. We had the clue to Kitchener’s death right in our hands and it was plucked away by that thief before we had the chance to figure out what it all meant.”

“Don’t look so depressed. All is not lost,” Summer replied consolingly.

“But we have so little left to go on. We’ll probably never find out the true meaning of the Manifest.”

“To quote Aldrich, poppycock,” Summer replied. “We’ve still got Sally,” she added, holding up the doll.

“What good is that?”