Page 30 of The Amsterdam Enigma (The Continental Capers of Melody Chesterton #3)

M elody and Rat arrived back at the hotel within minutes of each other.

Rat had decided to have a light lunch in the dining room before considering how he might productively spend his afternoon.

He and Alessandro had parted ways with the agreement that they would meet the next morning, appropriately dressed as workers, to make their way to the theatre.

Rat was pleased they had a plan of sorts, but felt uneasy wasting time until then; if only he knew what to do with himself.

Rat was just about to enter the dining room when Melody entered the lobby and caught sight of him.

She hailed him, and Rat felt immediately guilty about having left the hotel to confer with Alessandro that morning behind her back.

Usually, Melody could read her brother well, but he was spared from her suspicions by how distracted she was by what she had discovered herself that morning.

“I’ll join you,” Melody said, approaching him.

Unbeknownst to Rat, her guilt matched his own.

She was still unsure what to tell him about the information William had shared, and she was even more nervous about her epiphany regarding Jemima Edwards.

Melody decided to sit with her thoughts during lunch, hoping the answer would reveal itself to her.

Given his subterfuge that morning, Rat would have welcomed an excuse not to dine with his sister. However, try as he might, he couldn’t think of a convincing reason. So, they proceeded into the dining room together, where they were immediately greeted by Jemima waving cheerfully at them.

The sight of the young woman reminded Melody of her suspicions. She hadn’t thought them through sufficiently to feel comfortable engaging in small talk with Miss Edwards, but it seemed as if she had no choice but to do so. And perhaps there was some benefit to her company.

Jemima gestured for them to join her, and Rat was evidently eager to do so. Both siblings had the same idea: perhaps Miss Edwards’ chattiness would save them from the discomfort of concealing something from one another.

“Mr Sandworth, Miss Chesterton, how lovely to see you both. I have only just ordered. Let me call the waiter back over for you.”

A few minutes later, they were settled at the table, and their food was ordered. Melody was too anxious about questions regarding where she had been that morning to notice Rat’s similar nervousness. Fortunately, as they had hoped and expected, Jemima more than kept up her side of the conversation.

If she’d been asked, Melody wouldn’t have been able to recall what they discussed, or, more to the point, what Jemima said.

She found that all that was required from her was the occasional murmur of agreement and a nod of her head.

Apart from that, she could concentrate on eating her lunch and planning her next steps.

Now that she was with Jemima, she reconsidered her earlier so-called insight; was this overly friendly and talkative young woman likely to be involved in international espionage and intrigue?

Of course, she thought to herself, someone might look at Melody herself and wonder much the same thing.

She was also aware of how she’d been taken in by the seemingly sweet, gentle, and devoted facade that Xander Ashby had presented.

One could hardly expect someone involved in such activities to appear obvious.

Rat was lost in far more pleasant thoughts: Jemima Edwards truly was such a lovely and sweet young woman.

As infatuated as he had been with Fatima, there was also a part of Rat that had realised, even at the time, that the woman was manipulative and cunning.

Could he really imagine a life with such a woman, even if she had reciprocated his feelings?

But a life with Jemima Edwards, well, that was quite a different matter.

As he ate his delicate sole, poached with herbs, his mind wandered, and he imagined a small townhouse somewhere in London.

Not Mayfair, of course; he could never afford to live there once he was married.

Perhaps Kensington or Chelsea. He would return home in the evening to find Jemima waiting for him in the parlour.

She would be playing with the children, and everyone would gather around him as he sat in his favourite armchair by the fire, his pipe in his hand.

He was so absorbed in his daydreams that he wasn’t paying attention when Miss Edwards said, “Do you have any plans this afternoon, Mr Sandworth?”

“No, nothing,” Rat replied absentmindedly, without considering his words.

“Excellent! Then why don’t we spend it at the Rijksmuseum as we’d discussed?”

What? Rat thought. Wait! He didn’t have time to waste at a museum. However, it seemed it was too late for an excuse.

Jemima turned to Melody. “Would you like to join us?”

This was asked in a half-hearted tone that made clear that the hoped-for answer would be in the negative.

Even if the invitation had sounded more sincere, Melody realised this was her opportunity to do some snooping in Miss Edwards’ room.

Perhaps the aunt wouldn’t be there, and Melody could break in and go through Jemina’s belongings.

Even if she were there, it would be interesting to meet this relative and see what information she could pry out of her.

Politely, Melody declined the invitation, and just as politely but gratefully, her excuses were accepted.

Miss Edwards decided they would leave immediately after lunch.

Having accepted the invitation, however unwittingly, Rat could find no reason to object.

Twenty minutes later, he found himself leaving the hotel with Jemima Edwards on his arm.

Melody wiped her mouth with her serviette and rose.

She needed to make the most of Jemima’s absence.

She couldn’t imagine they would be gone for less than two hours, but there was no point in delaying.

She had heard Jemima give her room number when she ordered breakfast earlier that week, so she knew where she was heading.

After a quick stop in her room to collect the lock picks Rat had given her and showed her how to use, Melody made her way to room twelve.

It was only when Melody was standing outside Jemina’s hotel room that it occurred to her she needed a reason for coming, having just eaten lunch with the woman. Not so much an excuse to tell her aunt, but one that would be believable when, inevitably, she mentioned her visitor to Jemina.

Casting her mind back over the little of the lunchtime conversation she had paid any attention to, Melody wondered if anything had been said that would provide a plausible excuse.

She couldn’t think of anything. Then, she had an idea.

Returning to her room, she rummaged through her jewellery box until she found what she was looking for: a pair of small pearl earrings she wouldn’t miss.

Melody took one earring and returned to Jemina’s room. She would tell the aunt that she had found the earring on the table after the pair had left and assumed it was one of Jemima’s earrings.

With a reasonably good excuse in hand, Melody knocked on the door. There was no answer. She knocked again, this time a little louder. The one thing she didn’t want was to break into the room only to find that the aunt was just waking up from a nap. Still, there was no answer.

Looking up and down the corridor, Melody determined there was no one in sight and made quick work of picking the lock. She slipped into the room and gently closed the door behind her.

The first thing Melody noticed was that this wasn’t a suite, and there was only one bed in the room. Of course, Jemima and her aunt might share it.

There was no open book on the bedside table, nor any clothes left on a chair.

Melody wasn’t tidy by nature, and the only reason her room was neat was because Mary tidied up after her.

This room was so tidy that there was no clear evidence whether one or two people were sleeping in it.

Perhaps the aunt had her own room, Melody mused.

Then she remembered Jemima saying “our room” over breakfast. She had definitely said that, Melody decided.

So, either they were sharing a bed, or there was no aunt.

Feeling somewhat guilty about going through another woman’s belongings, Melody examined the drawers and the cupboard and concluded there was no sign of a second, older woman living there.

What did that imply? By itself, it didn’t necessarily suggest guilt.

However, it was unusual, almost unheard of, for a young, unmarried, well-bred woman to travel alone.

Melody approached the writing desk. It had an inkwell and a neat pile of blank notepaper. The desk featured drawers, the first of which contained nothing of interest. However, the second held a folder. Melody pulled it out and looked inside. She found newspaper clippings there.

The clippings were in Dutch, so she couldn’t understand their content, but one detail caught her eye.

In the top one, there was a date and time that even her Dutch was good enough to recognise: 29 July, 2 pm.

Wasn’t that when Rat was supposed to meet Vermeer at the cafe?

Of course, this might be a complete coincidence.

However, the classified ad explicitly mentioned Café Suisse.

She couldn’t remember if Rat had told her which cafe he’d been waiting in.

She decided to copy the classified ads onto a piece of notepaper.

Then, she copied a few others. They all had dates and times, though the others were at least six weeks earlier.

Melody’s breath caught. Six weeks ago was roughly when William had left Amsterdam.

If she was correct, these were the newspaper classified ads that the captain and then Rat had used to communicate with Vermeer. How did Jemima know what they were?

Outside, a door slammed. Footsteps passed.

Melody froze. If someone were to come into this room now, what excuse could she possibly make?

Unless something unexpected had happened, there was no way Rat and Jemima would have returned from their museum excursion yet.

Even so, the noise was a reminder that she should be as quick as possible.

Melody folded up the notepaper she’d written on and put it in the pocket of her dress.

Before she left the room, Melody took a final look around.

Was there anywhere else she should check?

She was nervous about rummaging through too many things and alerting Jemima.

Someone as tidy as the young woman seemed to be might notice if the slightest item had been moved.

As it was, Melody just hoped she had returned the folder exactly as it had been.

Finally, Melody decided she had enough information for now and slipped out of the room.