Shades of Earl Grey Read Online Free PDF Page A

otherwise. That darned humidity just steals in and chills you to the bone. Gonna have to seal off this whole wing, I s’pose.” The janitor gazed at the mess ahead of him and sucked air through his front teeth. “You two go ahead and take your look up there while I rustle up some tarps. Just don’t fall off that darn thing and break your neck. There’s been enough trouble here for one night.”
    â€œI’ll be careful,” Theodosia assured him as she scampered up the ladder.
    â€œ Please be careful,” said Drayton as he stood below, clutching the ladder.
    Theodosia climbed to within two steps of the top, put a hand gingerly on the metal strut that ran the length of the greenhouse roof. It felt solid and stable. It was the glass that had seemingly crumpled and given way.
    She stuck her head up through the hole. The roof, or what was left of it, was still slick and wet from the earlier downpour. Light from below glowed faintly through it. Okay, no surprises here, Theodosia decided.
    She felt beneath her with her right foot, took a step back down. Now she was eye level with the tangle of glass and metal. She reached out, flicked at a small oval-shaped piece of metal that hung there. It was weathered looking, once silvery, like the rest of the pieces.
    â€œSee anything?” Drayton called from below.
    â€œNot really,” she said.
    â€œThen kindly come back down.”
    Theodosia began her climb back down.
    â€œHere,” said Drayton, grabbing for her hand once she was in reach, “let’s get you back on terra firma.”
    Theodosia stood next to the ladder, looking thoughtful. “Drayton, let me ask you something. What if someone had their eye on Camille’s wedding ring?”
    Drayton’s eyes widened as he caught the gist of what she was suggesting. “You think someone might have been up there? That this wasn’t just an accident?”
    â€œI’m not sure,” said Theodosia. “Let’s just suppose for a moment that a thief was prowling about . . .”
    â€œCamille’s ring would make quite a prize,” he said slowly.
    Theodosia’s eyes flicked over the head table, where the silver tea set gleamed from the wrecked table top. “And the silver?” she asked.
    â€œThat’s lovely, too,” he agreed slowly. “Queen Anne style. Don’t quote me, but I believe it was crafted by Jacob Hurd in the mid-seventeen-hundreds. And of course, it’s been in the Goodwood family for ages. You see that engraved cartouche on the body of the teapot?”
    Theodosia nodded.
    â€œThat’s the family crest. A heraldic shield on a bed of roses.”
    â€œSo besides Camille’s ring, which I believe Delaine told me had been valued at something like seventy grand . . .”
    â€œSeventy grand!” exclaimed Drayton. “Good gracious.”
    â€œAnd all this silver would have been worth a good deal of money, too,” ventured Theodosia.
    Drayton nodded briskly, far more familiar with appraisals on antiquities than he was with jewelry. “Oh yes. The teapot alone might fetch ten or twenty thousand dollars. To say nothing of the creamer, sugar bowl, and that magnificent tray.”
    â€œOkay, then,” said Theodosia, “follow my line of thinking for a moment, will you?”
    Drayton cocked his head to one side in an acquiescing gesture.
    â€œWhat if someone was scrambling across the top of the roof . . .” she began.
    â€œIt would have to be someone very skillful and limber,” he said, gazing upward. “There are only those struts for support, everything else is glass.”
    â€œI agree,” said Theodosia. “But it can be done. A case in point: the man who cleans my air conditioner does it every spring in my attic.”
    â€œWalks across the narrow wooden struts,” said Drayton.
    â€œYes,” said Theodosia. “But maybe tonight this person, whoever he