The Opera Singer's Daughter (A Sherlock Holmes Spin-Off Novel)

Chapter Thirteen

I wanted to look over my shoulder but also didn't want to give anything away if someone was watching me. Showing how uncomfortable I was would win me nothing.

After glancing at me, the woman heaved a sigh and nodded. She stepped back and gestured for us to enter. Mr. Holmes motioned for me to go ahead of him. He didn't even glance over his shoulder as he followed me in.

"How many are out there?" I asked in a quiet voice.

He looked down at me, an eyebrow raised. "I saw at least three," he said without trying to conceal the matter. "They were not being very discreet in their observation."

My hand itched to reach up to my hat. I'd not yet used my hatpin to defend myself, but I wanted to have it in hand. Just in case I needed it. "Well, then. What do you think they will do now that they know we are here?"

"Nothing if they are smart. However, I've not seen an abundance of intelligence among them as of yet."

"What can I do to help?" the elderly woman asked, leaning on her cane. She didn't give any indication that she had overheard our quiet exchange. "Where do you wish to look?"

"Miss Norton?" Mr. Holmes said. "Where would you suggest?"
Why was he asking me? I breathed out, trying to think clearly. Proceeding without any direction would be futile. "What are we looking for?" I asked, turning to Mr. Holmes.

"By your own telling, your mother left her home of her own free will," Mr. Holmes said, his gaze moving around the room. What was he seeing that I had missed? "Unless she went straight to the King's men —which I would consider a foolish move—she must have gone somewhere."

The housekeeper blinked. "King? Do you mean those rude foreign men who forced their way in no more than five days ago? I don't know what they were looking for, but I called for help and the constable took them off."

The King of Bohemia's men had come here. "Wouldn't she know this place would be watched?" I asked, trying not to get distracted.

"Of course, but if she intended to put something in safety, where else would she go?"

What would Mum have to hide? The picture of her with the King? No, why would she need to hide that? Some papers indicating my birth? What would bring Mum back here when she must have known the danger? Why wouldn't she have just...

"A bank would have been more anonymous," I said.

Mr. Holmes nodded. "It would have. But she may have intended for you to find it if she did not come back."

An interesting notion. With that in mind, I determined to see the room in a new way. If I were her and had something to hide, where would I put it? Start there and work backward to the what. "What about where she hid the photograph fourteen years ago?" I asked, trying to recall which specific room Dr. Watson had stated in the story.

"The sitting room? I think not. I doubt Mrs. Norton would leave anything there as anyone who has read Watson's telling of the incident is aware of its location. Even the King would not be indiotic enough to forget it."

Of course. Why hadn't I thought of that?

The best place to find something would be wherever Mum spent most of her time. At least, that's what I thought. "Which room was my mother's favorite?" I asked, looking at the housekeeper. "Was there somewhere she would spend the majority of her time?"

"Oh, yes," she said with an emphatic nod. "The music room. I keep her piano tuned so that it is ready for her whenever she and Mr. Godfrey come. It is right this way."

Had I asked the right question? Mr. Holmes gave a slight nod in answer to my look. It was as close to approval as I guessed I would get. Feeling somewhat proud, I followed the housekeeper to the music room, which was off the hall.