Page 65 of Disturbing the Dead
Sir Alastair was different. He needed money—a lot of it—to fund his expeditions. That’s where Lord Muir came in, but having a sponsor also meant Sir Alastair had to do things like put on that humiliating mummy-unwrapping demonstration.
Had there been more tension between the men?
That’s all on McCreadie’s investigative plate. Tomorrow, he will keep digging through the business side while we wait to follow up on Queen Mab and her goblin market.
We have a quiet evening in. Once we finish dinner, the exhaustion of yesterday’s sleepless night hits. Isla and I retreat to the library to read, and after McCreadie leaves, Gray joins us.
There are many things about this new life that frustrate me, and at least as many that I love. One of the parts I love is the quietness that can settle over an evening like this.
We might be in the middle of an investigation, but no one has anything urgent to do for it, and so we just let ourselves rest. In my world, even on a quiet evening, my brain would whisper that I couldn’t get too wrapped up in a book or a TV show or a video game. A brief rest was all I could afford before I needed to be productive again. Answer email. Reply to a text. What am I missing? What else should I be doing? Am I forgetting some obligation? I must be, if I think I have an entire evening free.
Here, we put the investigation aside and give our brains and bodies a much-deserved rest. I’m reading a first edition of The Moonstone, published last year. Isla has the equally recent Little Women, which I finished last week. Gray—well, Gray has the latest edition of The Lancet, so he’s kind of working, but this is his idea of leisure activity, so I’ll let him have it.
We sit in silence, with only the ticking of the clock to mark the passing of time, and I read until I can’t keep my eyes open. When I make to leave, the other two agree we should all turn in, and we say our good-nights and head off to bed.
Gray, Isla, and I are taking breakfast together. I could get used to this. Oh, they’ve always invited me to join them, but taking meals with our bosses while Alice served would have been awkward. I would dine with them when I could put on my assistant hat, but even then, I’d insist on serving. Now I can rise at a normal hour without Mrs. Wallace giving me shit for showing up five minutes late and serving Gray his morning coffee less than piping hot. I can dress properly and at my leisure, and then I can read a newspaper or check in on Gray or Isla before breakfast.
This morning, we eat upon waking. We all slept until eight, and we need to be ready for our day.
“I have sent Simon to fetch the newspapers,” Gray says. “If young Tommy has not uncovered any of those stories about us, I would propose that we seek them out.”
“I agree,” Isla says, “though you will need to take Mallory for that. I have a lunch engagement that I should not break without just cause.”
“Mallory?” Gray says.
“Sounds like a plan. I’d also like to—”
A tentative knock at the door.
“Yes, Lorna?” Isla calls.
Lorna pokes her head through. “Sorry to interrupt, but this came for you, Dr. Gray.” She holds an envelope out, quivering slightly, as if suspecting this should have waited until after breakfast. “It’s from Lord Muir, and the boy said it was very urgent. Lord Muir will be waiting for you at the Christie house.”
Gray bites off a sigh and finds a suitably neutral expression. “Thank you, Lorna.”
She hesitates and then ducks her head, as if embarrassed at the two-second pause before realizing that was a dismissal. Gray waits until she is gone and then releases the sigh in a long exhalation.
“I understand that working with men such as Lord Muir is part of Hugh’s job,” Gray says. “But it is yet another reason why I prefer to avoid calling too much attention to myself.”
“Because if men like Muir don’t know you’re involved in the investigation, they can’t send messages demanding you wait on them like a common footman?”
He wrinkles his nose. “That makes me sound rather superior myself, doesn’t it.”
“Nah. I’d get that when I was a cop, and it rankled. Technically, I was a civil servant, but that didn’t give anyone the right to order me around. What does Muir want? Besides us dropping everything and rushing to the Christie house at his convenience.”
“Which I shall not do,” Gray mutters. “Perhaps I do have too high an opinion of myself, but I will not set such precedents.”
He slaps the envelope onto the table and picks up his coffee. Isla and I share a knowing look. Gray manages to get one sip of coffee before reaching for the envelope again.
“I shall read this and return a message,” he says.
“Mmm,” I say, “if it really is a summons to the Christie house, we might actually want to use the excuse to pop by and talk to Selim Awad about mummia. We just shouldn’t drop everything, as you say.”
When Gray keeps reading, my own curiosity spurs me to say, “Did anything actually happen? Or is Muir ordering us to deliver a status update in person?”
Gray’s frown grows as he reads. “They have discovered several artifacts missing from the collection.”
Isla puts down her cup with a clink. “Truly?”
