Chapter 9

Late that evening in a darkened townhouse, three concerned people were sitting up, waiting for some word of what had become of Melody Anderson Fogg. Rebecca had made it back to Phileas's house as fast as she could. Her head was bruised, showing a dark purple hue just beyond her hairline on the left side. She was tender, but said it was bearable.

Phileas had met his cousin as she entered the house. It didn't take him more than a second to realize what had happened. Mary and Kathy treated her injuries as Phileas heard her story. Melody's captors had gotten away, leaving them with few options. If they wanted her life, Melody would be dead already. If they wanted something in exchange, word would be sent.

The extra ears in the house not familiar with the Fogg family's history in government service had been quickly given sketchy explanations and sworn to secrecy. Phileas sent both away for the duration of the crisis, for their own safety, just in case things got ugly.

"Passepartout will send for you when my wife has been brought back home," Phileas said. "Until then, you ladies should stay away."

Now that the house was down to just the three of them, Rebecca told Phileas what she had omitted, descriptions and minute details that could be helpful to them. She apologized yet again for not protecting Melody better.

"You have been right all along in keeping her well covered. I don't know how we could have missed them watching us this long. It's been a month since I arrived."

Phileas brushed Rebecca's apology off as unnecessary. "I felt from the start this was no simple matter. Whoever we are dealing with is determined. I should have felt less wary but haven't been able to shake the urgency. I still don't see it as involving Melody directly. Peter Kent, over in the home office, tells me there is some suspicious activity going on in his command, something that predates the major's arrival. My concerns and his death have started a quiet investigation. Peter is keeping me updated as information is relayed from Egypt. As you know, information doesn't travel fast at such distances, even with telegraph services."

Phileas stood, brought Rebecca another glass of wine and paced the study.

"I suppose being on the ship and rescuing her from the first attempt brought attention to myself. I am known in Egypt. It would have been easy to find me. My address is no secret. Had I kept her locked in the house, they could still have deduced her presence. They want something, something badly enough to chase across the Mediterranean for it."

A knock was heard at the door after ten that night. Phileas went to the door himself to answer. There was no one there, only a box about the size of a breadbasket sitting on the stoop. He picked it up and brought it into the study. Inside, he found a letter written in Melody's hand and the gloves she had worn when she left. The letter was written in a straightforward, practical manner with few embellishments.

Phileas,

A man who says that my father took something of value from him is holding me. Somewhere in the things that were packed in Alexandria is a map on papyrus. It is two feet square and should be rolled. When you find it, the map is to be placed in this box and returned to its owner by bringing it to the yacht on pier twenty-two on the docks of London. After it is returned, I will be released. If it is not returned to him before tomorrow midnight, I am told I will be killed.

This man is serious about wanting the return of his property. Grave consequences will come if he doesn't. Please, do as he asks. He knows of your past work with the government. He is watching, lest you involve the authorities.

Melody

Phileas read the letter several times over. Searching her baggage could be done easily. He and Rebecca would find this map. It was the added things Melody wrote that bothered him.

"What grave consequences is she trying to tell you about," Rebecca said, reading over his shoulder. The threat of her murder is enough. Did the kidnapper threatened to do more?"

"Anyone this determined would, most certainly, do more," Phileas said. "He may have threatened my death, yours, or the murder of this household to search for the map himself. This person knows of me. That doesn't surprise. I worked in the Middle East on several missions. There were pirate hunts with the Navy, a few smuggling operations I shut down, a few kidnappings I helped investigate. That doesn't matter. We need to start searching."

"I helping Miss Melody bring her boxes from the carriage house," Passepartout said. There were no maps in things she took to her rooms. The dishes and linens are in cupboards. There was no papyrus paper there, either."

"I helped with her clothing and personal things," Rebecca said. "There were no maps in that."

"No," Phileas said, "It would have been in her father's things. Or he might have hidden it somehow. I've already emptied the boxes with his books and office papers. Unless the map was hidden in a book, I didn't notice it."

"A good place to start," Rebecca said, standing.

Phileas and Rebecca searched the books while Passepartout went through the boxes and trunks, not unpacked. They held the major's clothing and belongings. Some of that was now in the attic until a charity could be called to take them away. When nothing was found in those places, they opened the trophy boxes, checking the hollows for hiding places. With no luck, they headed to the carriage house and went through all the crates still there.

At near four in the morning, Phileas was getting bleary-eyed. They had completed their search of the carriage house. He was now contemplating a systematic search of the house yet again. Phileas looked over the many boxes and trunks they had gone through and wondered where else the Major could have hidden it.

We are trained at this sort of thing. I know how hides can be added to most anything. "We are missing something," he said.

"We have been over every inch of everything," Rebecca said. "Even the furniture," she said, looking at the dismantled small tables laying to her left. She had pulled back the lining of the trunks, and checked every book for hidden pockets, every article of clothing for bulges or newly sewn seams. Nothing had been found.

Phileas took the box of silver serving pieces he had just finished with in the back of the carriage house, where they were stacking things already cleared. He laid it next to a box with a collection of bric-a-brac, decorative bits for display. There was nothing of great value in it, just porcelain figurines of maidens on swings and such. Melody had told him of those. They had belonged to her mother. Similar porcelain could be found in homes all over, since he was a boy, inspired by paintings of Louis XVI's court. One piece caught his eye. It was a maiden and her suitor sitting on a horse.

"Horses."

"Passepartout," Phileas said. "We haven't searched the major's collection of horses. Where are they?"

"Miss Melody repacking them to be taken to Shillingworth Magna. They in trunk in little room off her bedchamber."

All three searchers rushed into the house. Each person took a trunk. Phileas took the one holding the horses. He pulled them all out one at a time. The smallest and all the solid figures he set aside.

"Where is the ebony horse?" Phileas said.

"She has it in her room," Rebecca said. "It's solid ebony. No worries there."

Phileas nodded, pulling out the next largest figure. It was one of the Chinese pieces. This one was painted terracotta, an ancient soldier on horseback in full uniform. The detailing was magnificent, as all Chinese pottery pieces were, but pottery wasn't solid; it was hollow. He shook it gently but didn't hear anything. He examined it for openings. The ancient soldier was part of the saddle, but the saddle wasn't part of the horse. He took the soldier by the shoulders and twisted one way, then the other. On the left twist, he unlocked the two pieces. The cavalryman unseated, showing both hollows. His horse was stuffed with papyrus cloth. The soldier was guarding a cache of folded papers with straw added to the void spaces to keep them from rattling.

"I found it," Phileas said.