The Mysterious Lady Law by Robert Appleton Read Free Book Online Page A

dry sense of humour. Asked her to dinner tonight. She accepted! Need to iron my suit. Maybe Mrs. Barleycourt will do me a favour—I can put up with her cantankerousness for this!
    “Will endeavour to find out who lives at 144. Georgina wouldn’t tell me earlier—integrity, how rare!—but I doubt the neighbours will be as tight-lipped. There are always ways and means. Can’t wait to tell all this to Professor Holly. No offence to him, but he has had enough fame and fortune. I must take sole credit for any discovery if I am to achieve anything like his eminency in Britain. This could be my ticket to a full fellowship. What will I find inside 144?”
    Holly lifted his head slowly and snapped the journal shut. That was the lad’s last entry, and Holly hadn’t seen or heard from him since. Where was he? Seven nights had passed since the telephone call and poor Georgina’s murder. What a strange night that had been—a breathless jog through dank, empty streets to Freeborn Avenue and a sombre midnight circus of clattering hooves, bedroom lamps, police uniforms, neighbours shivering in dressing gowns, propping each other up, arm in arm at their front doors.
    The inspector in charge had taken Holly’s information and promised to contact him with any news of Josh Cavendish. None had come in. Four days ago, after personally speaking to each of Josh’s friends, colleagues, tutors, lecturers and then telephoning Mrs. Cavendish in Portsmouth, Holly had reported to Scotland Yard that his young protégé was missing.
    Josh used Holly’s spare bedroom from time to time as a kind of quiet study. The living room library contained many rare scientific tomes, not to mention souvenirs from Holly’s countless African and Asian adventures. The lad genuinely seemed to enjoy spending time here, away from the pressures of university life. He kept his journal in the spare bedroom, in his desk drawer. Holly had found it quite by accident—he’d been searching for an address book instead, or some other record of acquaintances Josh had made but not mentioned.
    He scribbled ‘144 Challenger Row?’ in his tatty notebook. There came a knock at the door. He stuffed the notebook in his trouser pocket and slid the journal under a pile of Josh’s mathematical worksheets. Psammeticum calculations. Double Dutch, even to a Cambridge fellow.
    Knock, knock, knock.
    “Mrs. Barleycourt?” he yelled.
    She shot back, “My hands are full. Can yer no’ answer it yerself fer once?”
    “And I pay you why, woman?”
    “Yer’ll be mullin’ that over come wash day, Sir Horace.”
    Grumbling, Holly tromped to the front door and yanked it open. “Yes?” He swallowed too fast, stifled a cough. “I mean…how do you do, Miss…Lady—”
    “Harriet. How nice to see you again, Sir Horace. May I come in?”
    “Of course—” He reached for her hat, then realised she hadn’t taken it off yet, “—you may. Um, this way, Harriet.” He showed her into the living room. “Please ignore the pigsty,” then, turning to the kitchen, “ Mrs. Barleycourt. ”
    “Yes, sir.” His old housekeeper huffed and puffed at the door.
    “We have a distinguished guest. Tea and biscuits,” he said, and to Lady Law intoned, “Please have a seat. Is there anything else I can get you?”
    He muted his gasp when she smiled and fluttered her eyelids, for she was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he’d set eyes on since he’d first glimpsed Ayesha, Queen of Kor.
    “Tea will be fine, thank you,” she replied. “Tell me, Sir Horace, how goes the planning for your latest expedition?”
    “It does me good to see you.”
    “Likewise. So are you making headway?”
    “Oh, if only. I would give anything to…” He caught his smitten confession midgush, and paled “Oh, you mean the Africa trip? How stupid of me. Well I’m afraid I’m missing one key piece of equipment.”
    “And what is that?”
    “My protégé, Josh Cavendish, has vanished from the face of