The Killing Cave (Lady Fan Mystery Book 11) by Elizabeth Bailey

Author:Elizabeth Bailey [Bailey, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sapere Books
Published: 2024-12-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

By the dinner hour, in between giving her customary daily attention to the children and hearing such further information as had been gleaned, Ottilia had found time to study much of Carlton’s revealing journal. She did not hesitate to relate what she had found to the family as they dined, despite the presence of Tyler and Joanie, who were serving.

Both were trustworthy. Both had been in the Fanshawes’ service throughout most of her so-called adventures. Her personal maid was necessarily an intimate confidante and Ottilia could not doubt her devotion. Tyler often served Francis as valet in place of Diplock and was always willing to take on whatever task was needed. Neither would dream of tattling outside the environs of the family.

Ottilia accepted a small portion of the artichoke pie the footman was proffering. “Carlton made references over several years, as far as I can make out. All appear to refer to arrivals and most specify French names.”

Sybilla, who was picking at a fillet of fried sole, directed a keen gaze at Ottilia. “Most? What of those that did not so specify?”

“That is what I find intriguing. I am not yet certain I have identified what I suspect to be a code of some kind.”

Her husband, seated at the head of the table and, disdaining the fish, making his usual hearty meal from a plateful of beefsteaks, threw her a challenging glance. “I hope you mean to give us an example or two?”

“It will be simpler to show you. I could do with more minds set to unravel the puzzle.”

“That is all very well, Lady Fan,” cut in Henrietta, “but you have whetted my appetite to no purpose. Can you not recall an example?”

This demand was echoed around the table.

“Quite right for once, Henrietta. Don’t be provoking, Ottilia.”

“You did not show me when we were looking in Carlton’s room, Tante.”

“Where did you leave this wretched journal? Shall I fetch it?” Thus Francis. Rescuing her? Or was he as impatient as the rest?

Ottilia swallowed her mouthful and set down her fork. “No need, Fan. I do recall the gist. Carlton wrote down a series of letters and sometimes numbers more or less concealed within the text, just as the names were. Something like: N to 3 of D or Em or Sa. Several were noted as R. Once I saw T to 1 of D mixed.”

For a moment or two there was silence, all four faces, to Ottilia’s secret amusement, showing puzzlement. The dowager recovered first.

“Say them again.”

As she resumed eating, Ottilia obligingly repeated the words, adding, “Though I cannot be sure I have relayed them exactly.”

Henrietta, always a good trencherwoman, had disposed of both beefsteak and a substantial slice of artichoke pie with obvious gusto. She laid down her utensils and set her fingers to the table with an air of one ready to bestir herself. “We need to work out what each letter might be. Sa and Em must be easier, don’t you agree, Lady Fan?”

“I have no notion.

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