Constantine Capers: The Pennington Perplexity by Natalie Brianne (new ebook reader TXT) 📕

next morning to this private detective and go from there to the cafe to check for Byron once more. Tomorrow would either be the beginning or the end of both rabbit holes. She just hoped she found something more than dirt and earthworms. She moved back to her bookshelf and took Around the World in 80 Days from the shelf.

The sun peeked over the horizon as Mira woke and stretched. The night before, she laid out an outfit after looking her wardrobe over. Normally she didn’t take so much time, but she wanted to make a good first impression. She decided on a white blouse with ruffles and lace, a dark brown skirt and petticoat, and a lighter brown overlay with floral designs and clasps in the front. A simple necklace with her mother’s silhouette in ivory adorned her neck. Then she buttoned up her polished boots, dressed quickly, and tried to tame her hair.

For once her hair resolved itself to casual waves framing her face. She liked it when it did that. It somehow made her green eyes more vibrant. Of course, that frame also made the freckles on her nose more prominent. Her freckles were the only things she omitted when she drew her self-portrait. She thought about drawing another one as she examined herself, and then put that thought aside as she grabbed her sketchbook and left her rooms to find number 27 Palace Court.

She moved down to the main road and waited for a hansom cab. The wait wasn’t long, and soon enough she climbed into one. It was large and black, certainly spacious enough to sit two comfortably. The driver stood behind the compartment where she sat. A sleek, brown horse was attached at the front.

“Where to, Miss?” The cab driver had a rough voice.

“27 Palace Court if you please.”

“Ah. Palace Court. I’ve gone there several times. You’re looking for the private detective?”

“Well. Yes, actually.”

“Odd fellow that one. If he could forget his head, he would, but he’s as sharp as a tack in other ways.”

“I see.” She settled further back into the seat.

“Course that’s just what people say. I only drives them to and from. He did help me find me horse’s shoe when he threw it once. Course that doesn’t take much detecting, now does it?”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

He continued to ramble about this and that, pausing here and there to give directions to his horse. Mira didn’t really mind. She preferred to listen. Before too long they came to Palace Court. She hadn’t realized how close the building was to where she lived. It was certainly within walking distance. An apartment door with the shiny lettering of “27” stood in front of her. She paid the cabbie and stepped out onto the cobblestones, looking up at the building. She took a deep breath, crossed the street, and knocked using the large brass knocker. Footsteps shuffled on the inside, accompanied by the sound of fluttering papers. Then the door opened.

“Byron?” She couldn’t help but smile.

“Do I know you? I do, don’t I?” He turned away from the door, rifling through a stack of papers and glancing over them. He turned back, looking her over.

“Or are you here for the job offer? Come on in, either way.” He stalked off into another room.

“Job offer?” With hesitance she entered, stepping over slips of paper, stacks of books, forgotten teacups, and other odds and ends.

“Ah yes. As you can probably tell, I need a secretary of sorts to keep everything in order.”

“Oh…no, I didn’t mean I was here about the job offer. I was just surprised that you didn’t remember me.”

“I do know you from somewhere, don’t I?” He put the stack of papers down and looked her over again. “Have I been solving your case? I can’t quite remember. I’ve misplaced my journal you see. I don’t know what’s in it, but I know it’s gone. If you help me find it, the job is yours.” He seemed distracted as he spoke, turning in circles and running a hand through his hair. She had never seen a man in such a state before. His suit coat was missing, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His attire was rumpled, and his hair stuck out in odd directions.

“Alright. I suppose I’ll start looking. Do you remember where you saw it last?”

“That’s the thing. I remember my name and that I forget things. There are some fuzzy memories in the back of my head, but they don’t seem to correspond with the date in the paper. I found a note saying that there would be a journal somewhere.”

“Oh…um…right. Well I’ll help you find it.” She turned in a circle, bewildered at the state of things. How would anyone find anything in such a mess?

“Perhaps if we picked up a little, we could find it.” She started arranging slips of paper.

“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ve turned the house over trying to find it.”

They continued to pick up the place in relative silence other than the rustling of papers and books and the clinking of teacups. Some papers dictated cases, a few were just reminders. “You need to buy groceries this week,” and “There may be people coming for a secretarial job today. Make sure you read your journal before,” and “Make sure to retrieve all the notes out in town. They could get lost or destroyed, and then where would you be?” She read each note with interest and separated them into piles for later organization. Slips with reminders in one, slips about cases in another, random bits of trivia in another. She picked up a stack of books and moved to the bookshelf. There were books on physics, mathematics, history, Shakespeare, even a copy of Alice in Wonderland. She laughed a little at that as she placed the books on the shelves. She found a filing system full of different people and case files.

Once the sitting room was picked up, she noticed how nice