Beyond Compare (9 page)

“Sorry, Mother,” Kyria said, looking with displeasure at Rafe. “But Mr. McIntyre is not a member of the family.”

“No, but he is the one who found the body,” Reed reminded her. “Or rather, found the man who would shortly become the body. He has just finished telling everyone exactly what happened last night.”

Kyria could hardly dispute the logic of Reed’s words, so she merely sat down in the empty chair beside her sister, relieved that at least she did not have to sit next to Rafe. She glanced across the table, and Rafe
winked at her. She could not keep a smile from touching her lips—and that in itself was annoying.

“Now, then,” Reed went on, “I assume, Kyria, that you already know the details of our visitor’s death and the discovery of the box, since you were there. So unless anyone has any further questions for Mr. McIntyre, I would like to move on to what I’ve found out about our mysterious visitor.”

“You know something?” Kyria asked, surprised.

“Not much,” Reed admitted. “I talked to the constable last night and this morning, but he was able to find out nothing more than that a dark-complexioned man reportedly got off the train in the village yesterday afternoon and asked directions to Broughton Park. Presumably he walked here. However, Mr. McIntyre and I went through the man’s pockets last night, and we came up with a few things.”

Reed opened an envelope and shook out some items onto the table. “We found a ticket stub for the train trip from London, as well as a receipt for a room at an inn in London and a ticket on a ship from Istanbul arriving three days ago in Southampton. Both the name on the ticket and the receipt match the name written on the calling cards in this card case.”

“You mean you know who he is?” Desmond asked, leaning forward with interest and adjusting his wire-rimmed spectacles.

“I am assuming that the name on the card and the ticket is in all likelihood that of the man who was carrying them, although, of course, I cannot be certain,” Reed said carefully.

“Oh, Reed, you sound just like a solicitor,” Kyria said impatiently. “Just tell us who he was.”

“The card says ‘Leonides Kousoulous,’” Reed said.

“He was Greek, then?” Thisbe asked.

“It would certainly fit with his coloring,” Reed admitted, and looked toward Rafe questioningly.

“It could have been Greek he spoke,” Rafe agreed. “I studied ancient Greek in school, but I understand that the modern language is somewhat different, and I have never heard a native speak it, certainly.”

Reed opened the gold card case and took out one of the calling cards, which he handed to his father. “It also says something underneath the name, as well as what looks like an address. I am afraid my Greek is a little rusty, too, but I thought you would be able to read it.”

The duke nodded as he perused the card. “Yes. It identifies him as a dealer in antiquities. But the address is in Constantinople.”

“Yes, and the departure point of the ship he took to England is Istanbul,” Reed reminded them. “Among the English-pound notes in his pockets were several coins which I believe to be Turkish.”

“Hmm. Interesting,” Broughton said, nodding thoughtfully. “Well, no surprise, I suppose, that an antiquities dealer was in possession of such a thing. Uncle Bellard believes, as I do, that it is of Byzantine origin.”

“Oh, yes.” Uncle Bellard bobbed his head happily, looking more than ever like a bird. He patted the two heavy tomes sitting on the table in front of him. “That rounded top is typical, as are the biblical engravings. I’m not an expert, but I do happen to have a few books about the later empire. I looked through them this morning after Broughton showed me the box, and I found a drawing or two.”

He opened the two books to the appropriate pages and began to pass them around the table. “They’re both
from the period
A.D.
500 to
A.D.
1000, and you can see that they are very similar to this box. One of them is ivory, with carnelian and turquoise set in, and the other is cloisonné.”

Everyone examined the drawings closely as they came around the table. Thisbe looked up after examining the page. “Yes, but what does our box look like? We haven’t seen it, or at least
I
haven’t.”

“Oh, yes, quite right. Terribly sorry.” Broughton rose to his feet and crossed to one of the glass-faced cases against the wall. He unlocked the case and took out the ivory box. He brought it back and set it on the table, and everyone leaned closer to get a better look.

“It’s beautiful,” the duchess said, rather awed. “What are those carvings on it? And that stone! It’s magnificent.”

“It’s a black diamond, Mother,” Kyria explained, as entranced as the others with the box, even though she had seen it before. “Or at least, I’m almost sure it is. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“The carvings are biblical scenes,” Uncle Bellard put in. “One, I am fairly certain, is the story of the loaves and fishes, and another is of the betrayal in the garden of Gethsemane. I’m not entirely sure about the two smaller ones on the ends.”

“What’s inside it?” Alex asked, ever the curious one.

“We don’t know,” Kyria replied. “We haven’t been able to open it.”

“What?”

“I have looked it over and over,” Broughton said. “I can’t find a seam, a hinge, a latch. Nothing! I am sure it must open, but there’s obviously some secret to it.”

“Wizard!” Con exclaimed, thoroughly interested now, and came around the table to stand between his great-uncle and father and lean so close to the box that he was practically lying on the table. There was nothing Con loved as much as a puzzle.

“The Byzantines were excellent craftsmen,” his father went on. “It was probably a clever bit of extra safety for whatever was inside the box.”

“No doubt the relic was very important to them,” Uncle Bellard added, nodding.

“Relic?” Kyria asked. “What relic? What are you talking about?”

“Uncle Bellard and I agree that it is probably a reliquary,” Broughton explained. At the blank looks of most of those around the table, he explained, “That is something, usually some sort of box, which contained a sacred relic—a splinter of the ‘true cross,’ say, or a saint’s finger bone or something.”

“A finger bone!” Kyria exclaimed, and everyone looked askance at the box.

“Do you think there’s a finger still in it?” Alex asked, obviously pleased at the thought, and came around to join his twin and peer at the reliquary.

“I doubt very seriously that there is anything in it,” Reed said flatly. “The thing is hundreds of years old, after all. And it wasn’t necessarily a finger, anyway. A relic could be any number of things, although obviously, it couldn’t have been very large.” He looked at the box, which was no longer than six inches and a little more than half that wide and deep.

“Well, it would make sense that the stranger came from Istanbul,” Thisbe commented, “given that the box is Byzantine in origin. But what I wonder is, why did he bring it here? Why did he ask for Kyria?”

Reed shrugged. “No one knows. That is all Mr. McIntyre understood of what he said. My assumption is that it is something from Theo.”

“It seems awfully peculiar,” Desmond said.

“Theo’s gifts are often peculiar,” Reed pointed out. “However, the last we heard from him, I thought he was in Australia or someplace like that.”

“One never knows with him,” Thisbe said. As Theo’s twin, she was the closest to her brother, even though Theo’s adventuring had kept them apart for the past several years. “He goes wherever his whim takes him. And if he was in Australia, where we sent him the letter about Olivia’s wedding, he could have decided to come home, in which case, he would probably have taken a ship that would come through the Suez Canal, wouldn’t he?”

“Yes, you’re right. And he would have been right there, close to Turkey.”

“But if he was coming for Olivia’s wedding, where is he?” the duchess asked pragmatically.

“Yes, and why wouldn’t he have brought the thing with him?” Kyria added.

Reed answered with a shrug. “I have no idea. Perhaps he was struck by another of his whims and decided to stay in Istanbul and just send this box on.”

“You think it’s a wedding present?” Kyria asked doubtfully. “It seems a little odd.”

“Why didn’t he send a note explaining it?” the duchess added. “Theo, at least, scribbles a note, usually.”

“That’s true,” Kyria said.

Rafe McIntyre spoke up. “I don’t know your son, ma’am. But maybe he told this fellow who brought the
box whatever it was he wanted to say to you. We just don’t know what it is.”

The duchess nodded. “Yes, that makes sense, I suppose. Theo was never as comfortable with a pen and paper as the rest of my children.”

Reed let out a snort. “You mean he’d rather face a charging elephant than write a letter.”

“Still, I agree with Kyria,” Thisbe commented. “An ancient reliquary seems an unlikely wedding gift. Especially for Olivia. It’s more something Papa would like.”

“Not really my period,” the duke pointed out. “Besides, the chap said, ‘Kyria.’”

“Perhaps he was saying, ‘Kyrie,’” Desmond suggested quietly, and everyone turned to look at him. “It is Greek for lord, isn’t it?
Kyrie eleison?
Perhaps he was trying to say Lord Broughton?”

“But I’m not called that,” the duke said.

“Yes, but a Greek isn’t going to necessarily know the intricacies of British titles,” Thisbe put in. She turned toward Rafe. “Could he have been saying, ‘Kyrie’?”

Rafe shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible. Once he said only the first syllable, and the first time…I don’t know. I’m not sure what the ending of the word was. It sounded like Kyria, but of course the two words are very similar.”

“But why would Theo send that to Papa?” Kyria asked. “Theo would know that that wasn’t the era that Papa studies.”

Reed nodded. “It makes more sense that he sent it to Kyria because of the diamond. We all know that she loves gems. Although I have to say it seems extravagant, even for Theo.”

All around the table, heads nodded in agreement. They were all silent for a moment, looking at the reliquary. Then the duke said, “You know, Kyria, that chap I mentioned last night—Jennings? Actually, he lives not that far from here. Only a few hours’ ride. It wouldn’t be too difficult to take this over and show it to him, get his opinion. I am sure he could tell us a lot more about this reliquary than Uncle Bellard and I can. He has studied the Byzantine Empire for years and years. I could write him, telling him why you want to see him.”

Kyria sat up straighter, smiling. “That would be wonderful. I would like that. Perhaps he would even know something about how it should open.”

“I have to go to London tomorrow,” Reed put in. “I’m sorry, Kyria, but it’s important business. I won’t be back for at least a few weeks, but I could escort you then.”

Kyria bridled. “I don’t need an escort, Reed. I am quite capable of going to see Mr. Jennings by myself.”

“Kyria—” her older brother frowned “—I don’t think that would be wise.”

“Because she is a female?” the duchess asked, leaning forward, her eyes flashing.

“No,” Reed answered automatically. “Well, yes…” He squirmed a little under his mother’s fiery gaze, then burst out, “Blast it, Mother, this isn’t an equality-of-the-sexes issue. It could be dangerous! Look at what happened to the last person who was in possession of that box. I have no idea why someone attacked Mr. Kousoulous, but I cannot dismiss the possibility that it was because he wanted that box. It is obviously quite valuable. Surely you cannot want to
have Kyria running about the countryside carrying that box.”

“No, of course not.” The duchess leaned back, frowning.

“No one will know I have the box,” Kyria protested. “I will be fine by myself.”

“Oh, no, dear,” the duke put in worriedly. “I am sure that would not do. If there is even the slightest possibility that that man’s attacker might go after you…”

Everyone began to talk at once, but Rafe’s voice cut through the noise, “I will escort her.”

All heads at the table swung toward him.

“I had planned to go to London and then on to the Continent, but I had no set day of departure. I can easily delay the trip to ride with Kyria to this fellow’s place,” Rafe explained.

“Are you sure?” the duchess asked politely. “That would, of course, relieve my mind.”

“It’s no problem,” Rafe assured her. “My intention when I set out to visit Europe was to take a leisurely trip, to move from place to place as the mood struck me. A few more days here will scarcely make a difference. And I will take my guns, just in case we run into something nasty.”

“He’s terribly good with his pistols,” Alex declared. “He showed us the other day when he gave us that lesson in physics. He was pukka.”

“Oh, Alex, I wish you would not use that dreadful military slang.” His mother sighed.

The duke looked delighted. “There you go, Kyria. Mr. McIntyre can escort you, and that will take care of it nicely.”

“I don’t need an escort,” Kyria said stubbornly, shooting Rafe a glare.

“Let’s hope not,” Rafe replied, smiling back at her blandly. “But better safe than sorry, my mother always said.”