Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker) (34 page)

“I feel like Cinderella,” Julia said as she joined Sadie, patting her new hat with gloved hands. “I do believe I am going to like working for you, Miss Callum.”

“That’s another thing, Julia. While we are going about our shopping today, I will need you to call me Sarah.”

“Sarah?” She shook her head. “Forgive me, Miss Callum, but I couldn’t possibly. It would be too familiar and most disrespectful.”

Sadie fixed the girl with an even look. “Any disrespect will come from your refusal of a direct order. I thought we had an agreement, Julia, that you would do as you are told at all times without questioning the reason or the propriety of the command. I would have you practice that now, please.”

She was stern, but necessarily so. If Julia were to be used as an assistant in investigations, she must first learn how to follow orders. There was no other option.

“Yes, Miss…” Again she shook her head as she diverted her eyes to study the carriage floor between them. “Yes, Sarah.”

“All right, now look at me.” When Julia complied, she continued. “Your assignment will be quite straightforward. When we reach the antiquities shop, I will require you to accompany me inside and act the part of a companion rather than a maid. You will pretend interest in some of the items but be very careful not to speak unless I ask a question or give you an order. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

The carriage turned onto Royal Street and then rolled to a stop midway down the block. Sadie took note of the green awning and the window beneath. Elegant gold letters proclaimed the establishment to be Monsieur Valletta’s Antiquities and Curiosities.

Once Jack had assisted both of them to the wooden sidewalk that spanned the distance between the street and the building’s edge, Sadie paused to give her maid one more assessing look.

“No questions?”

“Just one. What if someone speaks to me first?”

“Then respond briefly and with as little inflection in your voice as possible.”

“So don’t let on that I’m not a native of New Orleans?”

“Exactly. I wish our visit here to be as forgettable as possible to Monsieur Valletta. If there’s nothing else, then follow me.”

“Nothing at all,” Julia said with a weak smile.

The door opened with a melodic tinkle of bells. The sound brought a short man of stout stature hurrying into the salon.

“Welcome, ladies,” he said, presumably taking note of the carriage and uniformed driver waiting outside. “Please enjoy the treasures and delights I have to offer in my humble establishment.”

The “humble establishment” was stuffed with antiquities of all sorts, none of which appeared to have any resemblance to objects that could be called humble. Rather, a rich assortment of items from all parts of the world had somehow been gathered to form a tableau that was at once pleasing to the eye and yet chaotic at best.

The little man inched closer, and Sadie took note of his height, weight, and eye color. She would pencil these details into her notebook later, but for now she committed them to memory along with the curious jacket of purple velvet that he wore and the odd Turkish trousers and slippers that completed his ensemble.

“Are you ladies looking for something in particular?” His attention rested on Julia, who, to her credit, did not respond.

A half-opened packing crate situated behind a table caught Sadie’s attention, and she moved toward it. Cedar shavings had spilled from the crate and were scattered about on the polished wooden floor, the only sign of poor housekeeping in the room.

Just as she was about to reach for the curious carved object, an artist’s sculpture of an elongated cat that looked for all the world like a mummy case, the proprietor stepped in to slide the box out of her reach with one slippered foot.

“That item is not for sale. However, I do have some lovely pieces depicting felines over here. Perhaps you would like to see them?”

“Actually, I am curious. Your piece there looks exactly like something I have been searching for.”

Color rose on his ample cheeks. Despite the cool temperature in the room, he reached for a handkerchief to dab at his forehead.

“It is Egyptian, isn’t it?” Sadie put on her best smile and offered it to the shopkeeper. “Perhaps you would allow me to see it?”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly.”

She reached to touch his sleeve, running her finger across the purple velvet as she looked into his eyes. “I am somewhat of a collector. Just
allowing me to see the piece would mean so much.” Again her finger traced the edge of his sleeve. “So very much.”

He cut his eyes toward Julia, who appeared to be interested in a particularly gaudy Second Empire lamp, and then back in Sadie’s direction.

“She’s with you? And she can be trusted?” At Sadie’s nod, he continued. “Perhaps I could allow just a little peek, but only if you promise not to tell Monsieur Valletta that I allowed it.”

So this was not the proprietor. Interesting.

“Of course. My friend and I are quite circumspect and trustworthy.”

Julia nodded on cue and then went back to her inspection of the lamp. Sadie returned her attention to the oddly dressed man. “You may call me Sarah,” she said with the tone of a woman seeking a confidence. “And you are?”

“I am a man who knows what’s good for him, and so I must ask for your promise that my employer, Monsieur Valletta, will never hear of this.”

Any man not forthcoming of his name had more than just an appellation to hide. Sadie proceeded with caution.

“You have my word,” she said. “But I must inquire as to whether he is here in the building. For if I need to speak to him regarding any purchases I wish to make, I will.”

“He is not. He is a busy man, what with his travels far and wide to gain the world’s treasures for his shop.”

“I see. And yet if I were to offer a sufficient amount, an amount that might cause the monsieur to consider selling…”

Interest etched his features. Sadie had to suppress a smile. Once she had the financial aspect of an arrangement decided, all else generally fell into place.

“I never know when he will return. And I assure you that any purchases you might wish to make will be negotiated with me at a much lower price than he would give you.”

She nodded toward the box. “Then perhaps we should hurry.”

“Yes, of course, although as you recall, I have said that Monsieur Valletta has indicated this item is not for sale.”

So he was greedy as well. All the better to manipulate him into showing her exactly what she wanted to see.

“And I also recall that you have said I might negotiate with you. Or perhaps Julia and I should go elsewhere?”

The man’s grin rose quickly. “No need for that, my dear. Indeed, I did say negotiation is possible.”

He shuffled over to retrieve the crate and then beckoned them to follow as he disappeared behind crimson curtains bedecked in all manner of fringe and crystal ornamentation.

Sadie moved in close as the mummy case was lifted from the crate. Approximately thirty inches in length and half that in width, the item was either an excellent representation of a mummy case or a decent forgery.

“May I?”

After giving the question a moment’s consideration, he handed the rare item to Sadie. It was heavy but not overly so, and the wooden carvings on the top and sides confirmed her theory. With a slight shake of the box, she knew it had to hold the bones of the cat in whose honor the burial box had been created.

Authenticity was obvious in the markings and style of the piece. She gave the item another cursory glance and then handed it back to the odd fellow.

“This is a very good specimen. I’m quite interested. So I wonder…” She looked around, taking note of the back office, the exit to the courtyard, and the staircase that led up to what appeared to be a second-floor room. “What else does the monsieur have that might be of interest to me?”

“Mademoiselle, I have no idea what you mean.” He looked to Julia. “Perhaps you might enlighten me.”

Julia merely smiled and then shook her head.

“Ah. Well, then, I shall ask you for a clarification, Sarah.” He carefully replaced the feline antiquity in the crate and then returned the lid to its place atop the box. “What exactly is your budget for these as yet unnamed items?”

So they had moved to speaking of price. Always a good sign.

“Budget? Whatever is that? I certainly am not familiar with the idea of worrying about cost. Are you, sir?”

“Only when it involves explaining to Monsieur Valletta why I took a customer up to his private apartment.”

The private apartment where the theft had been reported. Where police had been unable to gain access.

Again Sadie reached out to touch the man’s sleeve, the same gesture of familiarity that had worked to gain his confidence before. This time, it brought a smile along with a conspiratorial wink.

“You like cats?” He shrugged. “Perhaps I have another such item to show you.”

Cats?
Oh, please.
And yet she allowed nothing but enthusiasm to show on her face.

“Please lead the way, sir,” she said as she followed him across the narrow length of the office area toward the staircase. “Although I would admit that it is less the feline nature of the antiquity that draws my interest and more the rarity of the item itself.”

He stopped short, and Sadie had to catch herself else she would have run into him. “So you are more interested in items that are rare than in any specific type of collection?”

“Exactly.” She paused and then decided on a bold move. “My friend Mrs. Astor has told me such wonderful things about the Rembrandt she recently purchased, and so I wonder if—”

“Mrs. Astor?” His dark brows rose. “Why did you not say you were acquainted with such fine folks? Did she purchase this item from us?”

“As I said,” Sadie offered demurely, “Julia and I are circumspect and trustworthy. I certainly would not mention names such as dear Mrs. Astor’s were I not so inclined. And I do not know yet where her piece was purchased, although I expect I can find that out when I see her again very soon.”

The man nodded like a fool. An eager fool.

“Yes, yes, of course. Follow me, then. I think I have a few things you will be most interested in.”

He gestured toward the stairs. “Remember, lest you draw my employer’s wrath, you are not to mention what you are about to see.”

Sadie stalled. “I do not understand. Why would your employer be upset if he were to profit from my visit?”

His eyes narrowed. “I have made no mention of him profiting, have I?”

“So you’ve nothing here for sale?”

“Monsieur Valletta is a very private man.” He nodded up the stairs toward the apartment. “But that is not to say a deal cannot be made. A circumspect arrangement with a person who is trustworthy.”

“I see.”

She did. Given the current offer being made, it was well and truly possible that Monsieur Valletta could indeed have been the victim of theft.

Sadie glanced over at Julia. The maid was watching intently and playing her part as companion quite well. Sadie offered a nod of appreciation and then returned her attention to the man who beckoned her up the stairs.

Motioning for Julia to follow, Sadie stepped carefully up the narrow staircase and into the doorway of a room that was dark and smelled of mold and camphor.

“Just give me a moment and I will light a lamp. The monsieur, he does keep things—”

A crash and a thud and then silence. Sadie called out to him, but no response came. She stepped back to speak to Julia.

“Keep watch to be sure we aren’t surprised,” she whispered. “Do not leave the spot where you are standing now unless I tell you to. Nod if you understand.”

At Julia’s affirmative gesture, Sadie turned back around to assess the situation. Complete silence filled the room, giving her reason to believe there was no one else around. Perhaps the man just tripped. Stumbled over some object in the dark.

She felt along the wall to see if perhaps the building had been wired for electricity. Unfortunately, no switch to operate lights appeared within reach. What she wouldn’t give right now for one of Kyle’s illuminating inventions.

Taking a tentative step forward, Sadie kept a firm grasp on the doorframe. Now that her eyes had adjusted somewhat, she saw that the room wasn’t completely dark. Weak light from the back room below spilled into the space in front of her, offering a path across the patterned Aubusson rug.

She once again called out to the shopkeeper. And then she spied the body.