Constantine Capers: The Pennington Perplexity Natalie Brianne (best summer reads of all time .txt) 📖

journal to the next empty page. But instead of writing, he first looked at her, eyes flicking from her hands to her hair, settling on her skirts, scrutinizing every detail. After a few moments he took the pen to the page, fountain pen delicately sliding over the tooth of the paper. He wrote a few paragraphs then set the journal to the side for it to dry.

“Well, we ought to get started.”

“You mean just like that?” she said, surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“Well you just offered me this position yesterday, and you don’t know anything about me.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“You couldn’t know more than my name, Mr. Constantine.” Especially since he never seemed to remember her.

“Is that a challenge?” His mouth turned up at the corners.

“I…suppose?”

“Hmm.” He looked her over. “I know that you like to write or draw. Your left hand is more dominant, although you are ambidextrous in writing, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “You also are painfully shy, but for whatever reason, you seem comfortable around me. Perhaps these last six…no seven days you’ve come out of your shell more than at the beginning, but seeing as I don’t remember, I wouldn’t know. I can tell just by interacting with you that you are uncomfortable talking with people, but I would say you’ve found a way to push past that in the name of propriety. You are probably too curious for your own good, but that should work out nicely for our arrangement. Your demeanor shows you are a young lady with some wealth.” He paused and examined her again. “I have noticed you do some things quite atypical of a lady of your age. Perhaps you are a bit rebellious. Stubborn.”

Her mouth hung open in an unladylike fashion and her eyes opened wide with confusion. “Stubborn?”

“Yes.” He capped his fountain pen and placed it next to his journal.

“How can you possibly know all of that?”

“Observation is the key to what I do each day, Mira. All I have is what I can get with my senses in any given day. The more I observe, the more I can write down, the more I can remember. Because of the need for observation, I’ve become rather good at it. Now shall we move onto the case?”

“You mean, you gathered all of that information just by looking me over?”

“Exactly. I gather that I was right then?”

“Well yes, but how?”

“The fact that you draw is painfully evident by your sketchbook, and the graphite on your hands. I say hands because you use both to draw and sketch, however you have set your sketchbook to the left side, indicating a preference. Shy because of your tendency to blush. Curious because you couldn’t help but read my notes. Your demeanor is obvious, I shouldn’t have to say much on that, but you do go about town on your own and wear your hair down which isn’t exactly what is considered proper currently.”

Mira opened her mouth, but no words came. She furrowed her brow looking at her new employer. Just what had she gotten herself into? She found herself sitting on one of his couches in disbelief.

“That should be enough to be getting on with. Now, to fill you in on the current case.” Byron moved to the filing system to retrieve the case file. He cleared his throat and sat down in the armchair again.

“Since you read some of my notes, you’ll know that this case involves a certain airship operator. Scotland Yard has been stumped in the matter. When they are in doubt, they call me. For whatever reason, I’m really not quite sure.” He looked at her and his eyes seemed to be laughing. “I work primarily with Inspector…” He looked back at the paper. “Excuse me, Chief Inspector Raymond Thatcher. How could I forget?” His voice trailed off to a sad mumble. He cleared his throat and continued. “He is the one who presented this case to me but is a bit busy with another urgent case now and so this one falls to me. Now here are the facts…” He stood and paced the room with the case file, referencing it as needed.

“About a year ago, a certain Clement Pennington applied for a job with the Vaporidge Steamship Company as an airship operator. He had previous experience as an engineer and ship builder. They hired him. Clement was employed there for several months, happily, with no complaints from passengers or coworkers. Back in March he began to be more withdrawn. In July, a little less than a year after he had started, he quit his job. Nine days ago, September 10, he was found dead in his lodgings in North London.”

“How did he die?”

“He could have been killed by a blow to the head. There was a bit of blood involved and bruising. However, no weapon was found, and the amount of blood wasn’t substantial enough to be fatal. He may have just fallen into a table. But they did find a hypodermic needle, suggesting drug use. The medical report hasn’t been officially released so we can’t be certain on the cause of death.”

“Any signs of suspects or motive?”

“Possibly. The police believe that the burglar that has been terrorizing North London may have been the one to do the deed, if a deed was done at all. His rooms seemed to have been ransacked.”

“They are the only suspect you have?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Of course, the first thing to look for is any familial ties, and Mr. Pennington was all alone in the world, so to speak. His mother died when he was young. His father was a civil engineer and died in an accident a few years ago while Pennington was going to school. Of course, he followed somewhat in his father’s footsteps, only he was more interested in machines. Hence, going to work on an airship.”

“So, he didn’t have any family or connections whatsoever?”

“None at all, at least that have been determined at this point.”

“Perhaps it