beautiful dark wavy hair, a lovely moustache, bright blue eyes and lashes as thick as silk fringe.
“My dear fellow!” said the Professor, jumping up. “What news?” But SP had better manners and took the trouble to introduce me.
“My dear Miss Sparks. I’m very glad to see you looking so well after your terrible experience of yesterday,” said Mr Opie. He stepped forward and shook my hand. “I’m only glad I was able to be of service to you.” He gave me a smile like he meant every word, and I felt like a little princess.
“What’s more,” he said, turning to the Professor, “I was able to find out the scoundrel’s identity. His name is Pinner. He’s a dog thief by trade.”
“A dog thief,” said SP. “Can that really be a speciality in crime?”
“Yes,” I broke in. I knew about dog-stealing. “Any number of our ladies has had their lapdogs taken and a ransom note sent. Five pounds, Lady Purslane paid up, and they didn’t even send Pansy back.”
“Miss Sparks is right,” said Mr Opie. “Valuable dogs are ransomed or even exported, and the cheaper ones are sold for their skins. Dog stealers are very odd fellows; it seems they’re bred to that particular kind of crime, and that’s why it’s highly unusual for this Pinner to have attacked someone.”
“Her purse was taken, so it may have been a simple street robbery, even if Pinner was acting out of character,” said SP.
“Indeed,” said the Professor. “But I wonder why? Why this particular young girl? It’s not as if Verity looks particularly prosperous. She wore no jewellery, her clothes were perfectly ordinary and her bag, if she’ll forgive me for saying so, was distinctly shabby. Verity, my dear, do you remember anything about the attack? Can you describe what happened?”
I described. I described so much that SP had to scribble to catch up with me, and the Professor shook his head in amazement. “Verity,” he said. “Do you know that you have a most remarkable memory?”
“No, sir.”
“But you do. You seem to have almost total recall.”
“He means that you remember everything,” said SP.
“Oh.” I’d never thought about it before.
The Professor and SP exchanged a glance, and then the Professor continued with his questions. “Anything else?”
It was the one thing that really puzzled me about the whole thing. “When I walked past the laneway, the girl called out my name.”
“Your name?” the Professor boomed. “She knew your name?”
“Why, yes, sir. She must of, sir.”
“D’you hear that, SP?
She knew her name
. Verity, are you sure you’ve never heard of this Pinner fellow? What’s his first name, Opie?”
“Mic-Mac.”
“Mic-Mac?” I said. “Why, that’s Miss Charlotte’s sweetheart.”
Over the next few days, it all fell into place. After a few of what the Professor called “discreet inquiries”, they found out that Lady Throttle was up to her ears in debt. Too many hats, too many card games and too much keeping up with rich friends. So she hatched a plan to fake the robbery of the Throttle diamond and sell it, thus paying her debts, with her husband none the wiser. Lady Throttle, it turned out, had once been a hat-shop
vendeuse
herself, and that was how she knew Miss Charlotte. Miss Charlotte was in on the scheme, and she’d asked Mic-Mac to retrieve the ruby when my itchy fingers spoiled their plans. It turned out she’d been in on the dog-nappings too.
Anyway, the long and short of it was that the Plushes invited me to continue as their guest until the Throttle affair was all sorted out.
A week later found us with a private appointment at the Throttles’.
Lady Throttle ignored me, but greeted the gents with a charming giggle. I could tell she was nervous. Her little white hands were trembling as she unwrapped a chocolate. “Would you like tea? I’ll ring for Crewel.”
“No, thank you, Lady Throttle. This is not a social call. It’s a business matter.”
“I
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley