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

wouldn’t hurt to keep reading, at least until she found something to help him. Right? She kept skimming. The entries got longer.

The next entry talked about going to the newspaper and everything that had happened on the airship. He had written about how happy he was that she enjoyed her first flight in an airship and about how worried he was about her when the storm picked up. Of course, there was something about Mr. Gill, but that was only the basics.

The next one was shorter.

I didn’t remember her again. She mentioned that I am a little different every day. I think I may be hurting her more than I thought.

She read about his worry at her being late, and then something about Molly Bridges, the stash in the piano, and then Selene. Her eyes widened, and she smiled, reading over a paragraph again.

Person told Sel V would be out at ten.

She knew Sel would be Selene. V was what he used for victim. Someone told Selene that Pennington would be out. Molly knew when he would be out because she left Pennington’s at nine-thirty. He must have left with her. That was their connection. Maybe Selene knew where Molly went. They just needed a clearer timeline of what happened, and then maybe, just maybe they would be able to finish the case once and for all.

She reluctantly closed the journal. She didn’t have time to waste on her vanity. But she knew that Byron had some sort of feeling towards her, even if he didn’t remember her. She picked up the journal and headed back to Palace Court, hoping to find him there.

She knew she was right before her feet reached the door. The dulcet tones of the piano rang out the window. She found the door unlocked and came into the living room. He didn’t look up, completely enveloped by the music.

“Byron.” He shook his head and put a finger up to silence her, before continuing. She sat on her couch and waited impatiently, until she recognized the melody. She stood and moved over to the window, closing it and then stood behind him. He didn’t react. And then she began to sing.

He faltered on the keys for a moment and looked up at her. She kept singing a cappella. His expression flickered between awe and confusion for a moment before he turned back to the piano and continued to play along with her. For a split-second Mira felt intimately and completely connected with him through the music.

The song ended, and she looked over at him. He looked at his hands on the keys. Silent. He took a deep breath and pulled his legs around the piano bench, so he could look at her.

“I don’t think I knew that you could sing.”

“Well, anyone can sing.”

“Not everyone sings well.”

“I usually don’t sing at all when I’m in front of people.”

He cleared his throat and went silent. She set the journal down on top of the piano. “You left this.”

“I know.” He stood up, grabbed the journal and walked to the other side of the room. He threw open the drawer to the side table, put the journal inside and shut it with a snap. She moved over and opened the drawer again.

“I found the connection.” She picked up the journal and handed it to him. He paused for a moment, looking at it and then up at her. He seemed to realize the danger of leaving it with her.

“You read it then?” he stammered.

“Skimmed. I stopped once I found what we needed.”

He paused, nodded, and then brought the journal back with him to his armchair. She stood across from him.

“Did you read about when we were wondering how Selene knew that Pennington would be gone at ten?”

He nodded slowly and then his eyes lit up. He rushed to her, grabbing her shoulders. He was inches away from her and his gaze turned deeper, looking into her eyes.

“What would I do without you?” Her heart skipped a beat before Byron moved into the front hall. She rolled her eyes and moved to the doorway.

“Where are you going?”

“Scotland Yard! We have no time to lose!” His arms flew into his coat and he grabbed hers. He held it out to her so she could slip it on. She found herself smiling and helped herself into it before following Byron out the door. He called for a cab, bouncing on the sidewalk.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so excited before.”

“You’ve never seen me near the end of a case before.” He radiated excitement, and it made Mira glad.

“Are we so close?”

“We know who the murderer is, we have an idea of how to find her, and we know how she did it.”

“You know how she did it?”

He stopped and looked at her. “Well, I have a hypothesis.”

“How did it happen, then?”

He smiled and cleared his throat. He was in his element. “Imagine the night of the murder. Pennington and Bridges have arranged to have an evening together. Mr. P has used his ill-gotten funds from blackmailing to get her flowers, chocolates, and champagne. They meet, make dinner, eat, and have a lovely conversation. At nine-thirty, they decide to go for a walk. They leave the place together. Previously, Miss Bridges has communicated with Selene in order to have the rooms burglarized.” He trailed off and as his voice dissolved so did his good mood.

“What is it?”

“Molly doesn’t have a motive. And we still haven’t connected it to the smugglers. They knew about his death.”

“Well, why don’t we talk to Selene before finishing this story? She might be able to help us.” Byron nodded, and they continued in silence the rest of the drive.

Only one interrogation room was available for them to use. The rest were full of careworn women chattering to police officers about the Whitechapel case. Mira overheard a conversation about some brown apron chap all the witnesses were talking about. She heard another about a suspect called Jack. They