Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris-Theo 2 (11 page)

Sopcoate put one arm on Turnbull's back and the other on
Chudleigh's. "What I'm saying is, we don't want to be arguing out here on the stoop where every news reporter and passerby can hear us, now, do we? Think of the scandal," he said to Chudleigh. Then to Turnbull: "Think of how that could compromise your investigation!"

Turnbull scowled at the truth of Sopcoate's words. "Don't let anyone else through that door until I get back," Turnbull instructed his constables.

"Of course not, sir!"

Turnbull nodded, then followed the admiral and the others toward Father's office, where they could have some privacy.

"Oh no you don't, boy-o!" A constable's raised voice caught my attention. "You heard the man. No one gets in here."

"But it's Open Visitation Day, guvnor, me only chance to see the museum!" a paperboy whined as he tried to push past Biggs. "Ye don't want me to have to wait an entire month, do ye?" Even though he was talking to the constable, the paperboy was looking straight at me.

Only, it wasn't a paperboy at all—it was Will!

I tilted my head to indicate he should go round to the side.

"I don't give a horse's hind end how long you have to wait. Now, off wi' you!" As I watched Will scramble away, I caught sight of an elegant woman standing toward the back of the
crowd. It was Miss Sharpe, and she was attempting to work her way to the front door. She tried to catch my eye, but I ignored her and hurried to the side entrance instead.

By the time I got there, Will was waiting for me. "Wot took you so long?" he huffed, looking over his shoulder.

"I came right away," I huffed back, wishing he wouldn't get so put out just because of a few constables around. Although I supposed if I were in his trade, I would feel the same.

I heard a loud, wet sniffing sound. "Quiet," I warned Will.

He immediately froze. "Wot is it?"

"I don't know, but I think someone is skulking in the bushes." I squinted, having a hard time making out what exactly I was seeing.

"Oo is it?" Will asked, his voice tense.

"I'm not sure," I said. "But it looks like a bowler hat with ears. And a much-too-large morning coat."

Will relaxed. "Oh, don't worry 'bout 'im. That's me brother, Snuffles."

"Snuffles?" I echoed.

Will nodded. "On account of 'is nose always runnin' and 'im always snuffling it back up."

Another thick, wet sniff emerged from the bushes. "Right. Snuffles," I said. "But he doesn't have to hide in the bushes, does he?"

"'E's practicing, miss."

"Practicing what?"

"Why, 'is skills, of course. He's got to practice moving quiet-like and tailing people or he'll never make it in our family line of work." Will leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "Frankly, I think 'e's a bit 'opeless. Everyone can hear him sucking up that snot o' his from a mile away."

"We don't have time to discuss this right now. Come on." I grabbed Will's arm. "We need to go somewhere where we won't be overheard."

I thought about the reading room, but with nothing else to do until the inspector gave the curators marching orders, there was too big a chance they'd wander down there to do some work. Besides, Fagenbush seemed to be hanging around there a lot lately, and I most certainly didn't want to run into him.

Instead, I dragged Will into my small closet, the one small piece of the museum that I claimed as my own. When I pulled him inside and lit the oil lamp, his eyes went immediately to the sarcophagus next to the wall. "Wot is this place, anyway?"

I didn't think he'd understand about my need to sleep in the sarcophagus when I got stuck spending the night at the museum. It was the only thing I trusted to protect me
against all the curses and restless spirits that roamed the museum at night. "My room, so to speak. Listen, we haven't any time to waste. I've got an important message for Wigmere, but I've got a governess now—"

"Whatcher got one of them for, anyway?"

"Believe me, it wasn't my idea. Now, I need you to tell Wigmere that I found out why the mummies are here."

His eyes grew wide. "Ye did?"

"Yes. Tell Wigmere that I think I found the Staff of Osiris. Here. In our museum. Can you repeat that to be sure you've got it straight?"

"Sure. You fink you found an Iris Staff—"

"No, no. The Staff of Osiris. Oh-sigh-ris. Say it for me."

"Oh-sigh-ris. Got it. What's that got to do wif the mummies, anyway?"

Even though we were all alone in the room, I couldn't help but lower my voice. "It wields power over the dead, and that's what's calling the mummies. Although ... they seem to only be able to move at night."

"The dead!" Will squeaked, glancing nervously at the sarcophagus.

"Shhh! Yes, the dead. And I think that's why Chaos wants the staff. Now, can you remember all that or do I need to write it down?"

"Wot's wrong wi' my mem'ry, I'd like to know?"

"Nothing! I was just checking, that's all. Now—"

There was a rap at the door. "Theodosia!" We both froze.

"I say, Theodosia? Are you in there?" Stilton called out.

"Yes, I am. Just a second."

I motioned Will toward the sarcophagus. He looked at me as if I were crazy. "I'm not gettin' in that thing!" he hissed.

"You most certainly are," I hissed back. "If you don't, you'll be found out. What if they turn you in to the police?"

Will paled but shook his head. "I ain't gettin' in no stone coffin."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous! I sleep in there all the time, and nothing's ever happened to me."

Will's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "You 'ave?"

Stilton rapped again. "Theodosia?"

"Yes," I said loudly, then whispered, "Now, get in!"

Looking none too pleased, Will gingerly scrambled over the side and settled himself in the bottom of the sarcophagus. "Now, keep quiet!" I warned, then turned to open the door. "Hullo, Stilton."

"I say, were you talking to someone?" he asked, trying to peer into the room.

I maneuvered myself so that I partially blocked his view. "No, why do you ask?"

"I thought I heard voices." Still not convinced, his gaze wandered to the far corners of the closet.

"Oh, that. Now that I'm to have lessons again, I was practicing my Latin verb conjugating for Miss Sharpe." Remembering how he had seemed stricken with her the day before, I added, "You haven't seen her, by the way, have you? She should be here by now."

He pulled his gaze from the walls back to my face, a frown of concern wrinkling his features. "Now that you mention it, I haven't seen her. I wonder if she's stuck up in that mess out front?"

"Most likely," I said.

"Perhaps I'd better go check." Eager to help the lovely Miss Sharpe, Stilton turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, I almost forgot. Your father would like to see you in his office. Right away."

"I'll be right there. But do please see if you can find Miss Sharpe. I'd so hate for her to get put out with all this horrid business going on this morning."

"Yes, of course," he said, then hurried away. I closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay," I whispered. "It's clear. You can come out now."

Shakily, Will climbed out of his hiding place. "I ain't never doing that again. That was downright creepy, it was."

"Never mind that! We've got to get you out of here and safely on your way back to Wigmere, and I've got to go see what my father wants."

Will was only too glad to leave my little closet and scurried out into the hallway. I led him back to the side entrance. "Now, you're sure you can remember everything I told you?"

"Yes, miss. I ain't going soft in the 'ead."

"Sorry. It's just excruciatingly important."

"So you said. More 'n once."

"Right. Well, goodbye." Will opened the door, looked out, then jerked back inside and slammed it behind him.

"'Ave you got another exit, miss?"

"Yes, of course. But what's wrong? You're as pale as a sheet!"

"Nuffink. Just want to go out a different way than I came in. That's all."

"Well ... we've another entrance on the west side of the building. Or you can use the delivery entrance."

Will paused a moment. "'E prob'ly won't know about that one. Let's use the delivery one."

"Very well." I led Will across the hall, trying to think of a way to get him to tell me what was wrong.

"Theodosia!" Father's voice came from far away, and it didn't sound happy.

"Come
on
." I grabbed Will's hand and broke into a run.
"We've got to get you out of here before we both get in loads of trouble." When we reached the loading dock, it was empty. No doubt everyone was still in the foyer, being questioned by the police.

I led Will over to the exit, and he poked his head out to look around. "All clear," he announced, then slipped outside. "Good luck wiv your father. 'Ope you're not in too much hot water."

"I'll be fine. Now, remember! Wigmere needs to get that message as soon as poss—" But before I had finished my sentence, Will had disappeared.

I shut the door, then headed for Father's office. As I approached, I heard raised voices coming from within. One of them was Inspector Turnbull's.

"If you're not involved with these stolen mummies, Throckmorton, do you care to tell me why the Grim Nipper's been hanging around?"

"Who? I have no idea what you're talking about! Who is this Grim Reaper fellow?"

"Grim Nipper." Turnbull spoke slowly and loudly, as if addressing a deaf person. "He's only one of the most notorious kidsmen in all of London. Known for moving hard-to-fence stuff, too. My constable spotted him outside in the crowd this morning."

"Well, he's not here at my request, I can assure you of
that! Now, where is that daughter of mine? Theodosia!" He poked his head into the hallway. "Oh! There you are! What took you so long?"

I stepped into the room, only to find myself scrutinized by Grandmother Throckmorton, Admiral Sopcoate, and Inspector Turnbull. Luckily, there was no sign of Miss Sharpe.

"Where on earth have you been, child?" Mum rushed forward.

"I was on my way to the reading room, trying to keep out of everyone's way."

"And where is Miss Sharpe, then?" Grandmother asked.

"I don't know, Grandmother. She hasn't been in yet this morning." Which wasn't a lie. Exactly. She hadn't been
inside
the museum yet.

"Hmph," she snorted, and I must say, it was quite pleasant to have her snorting at someone else for a change.

"Yes, well, the admiral has invited us to tour his battleship, the
Dreadnought,
today," Father explained. "Obviously your mother and I can't go because of all this unpleasantness, but your grandmother wants you to go anyway—"

Grandmother interrupted him. "It will be an excellent educational opportunity. With or without Miss Sharpe," she added.

This felt like a most inopportune time to be away from the
museum, what with Inspector Turnbull breathing down Father's neck and Grim Somebodies being spotted outside.

At my hesitation, Grandmother brought her cane down on the floor, the effect somewhat muffled by the Turkish carpet. "Nonsense. Of course you're going. You'll not throw away an opportunity to see Britain's shining star firsthand. Now, what are you waiting for? Go get your things. We haven't got all day."

Knowing arguing would be futile, I said, "Yes, ma'am," then hurried to get my coat.

And my hat. I knew only too well Grandmother would just send me back for it if I left it behind.

O
NCE WE WERE SETTLED
in Grandmother's carriage, Admiral Sopcoate rapped on the ceiling, signaling the driver to be on his way. As we began down the street, we passed a small, familiar-looking figure racing along. With a shock, I recognized Will. I started to wave, then stopped myself. Grandmother would never approve. A short distance behind Will I spotted an even shorter figure nearly swallowed up in a too-large morning coat and an equally oversize bowler. Snuffles.

A furtive movement behind Snuffles caught my eye. It was a tall man in a tattered top hat wearing an ... undertaker's coat! I peered more closely, not sure if the man looked
vaguely familiar or it was just the second undertaker's coat I'd seen in as many days.

"We'll take the embankment route, shall we?" Admiral Sopcoate leaned back against the cab cushions, eyes shining. "The water levels from the recent flood have only now begun to recede back down the embankment. I'd like to see how they're coming along with the cleanup down there."

He sounded suspiciously cheerful about surveying something as grim as flood damage, I thought. I was willing to bet those who'd lost their homes didn't feel quite the same way.

At the look on my face, he quickly added, "Sorry. Can't take an appreciation for weather out of an old salt like me."

I supposed that made sense. Weather was an incredible force, capable of creating plenty of chaos on it's own. Unfortunately, the recent downpours that had caused this flood had had help from the Serpents of Chaos. The severe rains would never have occurred if not for the damage done when the Heart of Egypt had been in Britain's possession.

"So, dear girl," Admiral Sopcoate said, changing the subject, "does the inspector have any theory yet as to why all these mummies keep showing up? He's had two days. You'd think he'd have figured it out by now."

"He hasn't, sir. In spite of your valiant defense, he is still inclined to think Father's behind it."

Grandmother thumped her cane on the carriage floor. "Nonsense."

"Of course it's nonsense, Lavinia. The inspector will figure that out soon enough. It hasn't helped any that there's been so much in the paper." He leaned forward, eyes bright with curiosity. "I say, is it true that one of the mummies was cursed and caused a porter to break his leg?"

"Sopcoate!" Grandmother barked. "I don't need you encouraging her in this poppycock. She gets quite enough of that at home."

"Quite right. So"—he clapped his hands together in a jolly manner—"what is it you do all day in that museum of yours? I imagine we saved you from a day of boredom, eh?"