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

“I’m a private detective sir. I work with Scotland Yard.”

Byron looked at Mira and then began to tell her uncle the entire story. How they met, his memory problem, the facts of the case, her kidnapping, the death threats, most everything. Mira closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes again and bit her lip looking between Byron and her uncle. The only part that was left out of the narrative was the fact that they had been flying on the airship, although he did mention they had gone to explore it for clues. Meanwhile her uncle stayed silent. Pensive. Watching both of their actions and smoking his pipe. After Byron finished, Cyrus sat there quietly for a few minutes, which caused Mira anxiety beyond belief. When he spoke, his voice was soft, but angry.

“You are never to have any contact with this man again, Mira. Do you understand?”

“But Uncle—”

“Don’t you ‘But Uncle’ me. I’ve already lost your mother, I’m not going to lose you by having you gallivanting all over the countryside, following this,” He glanced at Byron for a moment, “Charlatan who pretends to be a detective. Haven’t you been reading the paper recently? It isn’t safe.”

He had every right to be distressed. Despite this, she wished that she could make him understand how crucial her work with Byron was. She looked at Byron. He was taking his abuse rather well. He was stoic. But his response shocked Mira.

“I’m saddened to hear you say that sir, and I see your point. However, I think you have missed ours.”

“Oh? Enlighten me then.” Her uncle was still livid. Byron continued, carefully.

“First, allow me to demonstrate that I am not a charlatan. In fact, I am rather good at my trade, hence Scotland Yard’s interest in my help. You see, I use observations to make deductions about the world. For instance, I observe that you are ambidextrous, like your niece is. I also observe that you have made several journeys to India, and that your trade is in mercantile goods. You are a merchant, and you used to take the trips yourself, but I assume that when your sister and her husband died, you stopped in order to take care of their twins. However, you have always preferred the ships that travel by water, whether the accident had happened or not. It just made you dislike them more.”

“How in the world?”

“You have tobacco powder on both hands and have switched your pipe between your hands several times as we’ve been talking. Hence, ambidextrousness. You have several maps of the world with the trade routes to India marked and have several artifacts from India on your shelves. You are affluent, and if you have been to India several times, it is likely that you are a merchant. It was simply a guess that you stopped making the trip yourself after the accident. Also, you have models of standard ships in your front hall, and a few books on nautical travel behind you. So, no, I am not a charlatan.”

“Mira could have told you all of that before you came here.”

“But she didn’t.”

“Is this true?” Her uncle turned to her. She nodded. He frowned, thinking.

“But she is still in danger because of you. She’s been kidnapped and had death threats. That’s more of a luxury than many other murder victims have had recently,” Cyrus gestured to the newspaper on his desk.

“Yes, and I have pointed that out to her several times sir, however she insists to continue.”

“Why?” Her uncle’s voice sharpened, and he turned to her. Mira cleared her throat.

“This is my decision to make. I have decided to continue despite everything because,” She glanced at Byron before continuing. “If I stop that will be exactly what they want me to do. Whoever, or whatever is doing this will have won. They can break into Byron’s again and steal his journal, corrupt his facts, deter the path of justice, and continue to murder and smuggle and do whatever it is that they’ve been doing. But if I work with him, I can be his memory. With his deductions that you just saw, and my memory, we might get to the bottom of this.”

Her uncle went silent and studied them both again. Mira’s voice quivered as she continued.

“Aside from that, Uncle, the whole reason why I started working with Mr. Constantine is to find out what happened to my parents.”

“You already know that Mira. It was an accident.”

“No, Uncle. We’ve found proof that they were murdered. And we,” She looked at Byron and then back to her uncle. “I have to get to the bottom of this.” She saw a light flicker in his eyes and then his visage cracked, and he softened.

“In that case…” He turned to Mira, eyes welling up with tears. “I won’t even try to stop you. If you are desirous to continue this object as you have done up to now, despite the threats, then there is nothing on this fair earth that I could use to convince you otherwise. You’re as stubborn as your mother.” Mira’s heart leapt.

“You’re alright with this?”

“I never said that. I am fully against you being in danger. But seeing as you would do it whether I agreed to it or not, and if it really is true about your mother being murdered…” His face darkened, the news fully hitting him.

“Oh, thank you!” She hugged him tightly, and he hugged back.

“Don’t thank me yet. I have some conditions.” She pulled back and moved next to Byron again.

“One is I need to know if anything else happens. Two regards Mr. Constantine.” Byron nodded.

“You are to use your ties at Scotland Yard to get police protection for my niece while she is staying here.”

“Of course, sir, I already planned on arranging that.”

“So…then I may stay here?”

“That is my third condition. You must stay here. After all, there is no place in London as safe as this house.”

“Thank you!”

“Those