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

The Order of Circe connects every case I have solved thus far. It is some underground criminal agency. Little is known at this time. Definite evidence includes th—

“Enjoying yourself?” Byron came up behind her. Mira jumped and papers flew in every direction.

“Sorry!” She dropped to the floor to pick up the scattered pages. Byron put the tea tray he was carrying on a side table before moving to help her.

“Mira, right?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I was just…”

“Curious. I know.” They gathered up the pages and he looked at the subject matter.

“Order of Circe, eh? Going right to the deep stuff, I see.” He put the file back in his system, closed it, and locked it, placing the key in his jacket pocket.

“It was associated with the Pit. Your note said you needed to read it. And the smugglers mentioned it. And it was in your journal.” She gestured to the note and sat on the couch again.

“It isn’t something you need to worry about.”

“That’s what you told me last time. I don’t believe you.”

He sat there for a moment, studying her face. Then he relented.

“Alright. What do you know?”

“I know the smugglers mentioned something about it when they kidnapped me. Something about them being a group to consult before murdering someone. And in your journal, it said that you were going to follow a lead on it. And it is related to the Pit?”

“Yes.” His countenance dimmed. “Circe is a plague that has infested the darkened streets of London for years now. Their members are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It is like trying to stop water from slipping between your fingers. They have control over the murderers, thieves, and smugglers in this country, and potentially others. I was so close to coming to the middle of it all!” He stood and paced in front of the fireplace.

“And then you had your accident?”

“That’s what the inspector tells me. All I remember is going to bed the night before. I was going to follow a lead in disguise to find the people at the center of Circe. But I don’t remember what happened. The chief inspector found me half dead, nursed me back to health, and here I am.”

“You haven’t tried to find them since?”

“Last time I went after them I was nearly killed. And at least at that point I was in full control of my faculties. Now, I don’t have a memory.”

“You have me.” Her voice was quiet, but he heard her, nonetheless.

“No. I’m not bringing you into that kind of danger.”

“You’re taking me to the Pit.”

He closed his eyes. “That’s only because you are so stubborn.”

She nodded with a smile. “I know.”

He handed her a cup of tea and seemed to make up his mind on something. “Alright then. I’ll take you to the Pit. But we won’t be going after Circe. This time. If you are going to come with me, we must make you unrecognizable. I spent some time last night procuring some items for you. After tea perhaps, we can role play our way through what shall happen tomorrow.”

“Is it really that dangerous?”

“Not if we prepare.” He took a sip of tea and then set down his cup and saucer. “Excuse me a moment.” He got up and walked out of the room. As soon as he turned out of sight, Mira slipped over to the cabinet of files and tried to open it with no luck. When he returned with a large bag, she was back in her seat, sipping at her tea.

“I’m afraid if you want to infiltrate them, you’ll have to look like them.” He set the bag in front of her. She opened the bag and pulled out a raggedy black dress. It had deep tears in the skirt and a low neckline. It looked as if it had been dragged through the shallows of the Thames from the back of a boat and then stuffed up a blocked chimney to dry.

“You want me to wear this?”

“There’s a shawl in there as well. It should give you some warmth and coverage. I found you some shoes as well. Why don’t you go try them on to see if they don’t fit? There’s a spare room up the stairs.”

In slight shock, she did as she was told. She went up the stairs, past Byron’s bedroom, and found a cozy little guest room across from what looked to be his study. She changed into the dress and found that it was far too tight. The shoes were far too big, and the shawl barely covered any of her. Looking down at herself, she could see the start of a blush climbing up her neck. Steeling herself with a breath, she left the guest room. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, a grisly old man greeted her, hunched over in a tattered suit. He turned to her and straightened as she stopped on the last stair.

“Oh! Byron. I didn’t recognize you.”

“I’m glad. Unfortunately, that outfit does little to mask your beauty. Tomorrow we’ll have to use soot to dirty your features.” Byron took a seat in the living room, picking up his journal. He flipped to the last written page before continuing.

“Now to put the pieces together. I believe we have enough to finish this story.”

“We know Molly is a mercenary. That doesn’t mean we have all the pieces.” Mira took a seat across from him.

“Which is why this is still just a theory, but bear with me. We are back to the night of the murder. We had just reached the point where Molly left with Clement Pennington, yes?” He marked a place in his journal and looked up at her.

“Yes. You just determined that Molly must have talked with Selene beforehand, which she did, but then you stopped.”

“That’s because we didn’t have motive or a way to tie it together with the smuggling and blackmail. Now we do. If Molly is a