The Case of the Weeping Mermaid Page 3

  The ships moored in the import dock towered over the two girls, making Maisie feel small and out of place. Everyone they passed was in a hurry, trundling along with barrels and boxes and trolleys. What made it even stranger was that her father would probably know exactly where he was going, Maisie thought, rather sadly. He would probably have brought a ship in here some time. Even if he hadn’t, he would still understand this world more than Maisie ever could.

  “Out of the way!” someone roared, and Maisie froze, not sure where to move. There were so many people rushing around – was someone shouting at them?

  Alice skipped aside as a porter came huffing past with a heavily loaded trolley. She dragged Maisie after her, giggling. She didn’t seem to be bothered at all – it was as if she hardly noticed the hulking ships.

  “If we go down here, we’ll get to the warehouse where the goods from Papa’s ships are stored,” Alice explained.

  “They’re huge,” Maisie murmured, looking around. “Do all these warehouses belong to merchants like your papa, then?”

  Alice glanced at her in surprise. “No, he doesn’t own the warehouse, it belongs to the dock company. Several merchants rent warehouse space here, like Papa does. Just space to store the cargoes. His main establishment is in the city.” She sighed. “But that building is quite expensive to rent. Papa may have to give it up.”

  “You know a lot about his business,” Maisie told her, feeling a little envious. She knew so little about her own father’s life at sea – just those strange notes he had sent her.

  Alice wrinkled her nose. “Only bits. Papa likes to talk to me, and I love to hear him explain about the cargoes the ships are carrying and where they have come from. People have been drinking tea in China for thousands of years, did you know that? Long before anyone ever drank it here.” She shivered. “I do hope Papa and Mama are well. Mama gets a little seasick. She told me before she left that she hoped she would get used to the motion of the waves after a day or so. But she will be so worn out by the time they reach China. It will take weeks and weeks to get there, even though they’re going on a fast steamship.”

  Maisie nodded. The ship her father worked on had no steam engine, only sails. He had told her in his letters that he was leaving the sea because steamships were slowly but surely taking over the East India business that he’d known most of his life. There wasn’t much place for a sailing ship in the tea trade now, when the steamers could cut through the Suez Canal to the Mediterranean, instead of going all the way around the coast of Africa. That way they knocked weeks off the journey. Sailing ships couldn’t go through the canal, her father had told her, because the winds blew the wrong way. It seemed strange that something as subtle and changeable as the direction of the wind could be so important.

  “Who are those men over there?” Maisie whispered to Alice. “The smartly dressed ones.”

  The two men looked very different from the porters in their ragged jackets and neckerchiefs. They had smart suits on, with waistcoats, and one of them had a gold watch chain stretched across his plump front.

  “Clerks,” Alice murmured, as they sidled closer and lurked behind a pile of cloth-wrapped bales. Eddie sniffed at them, and then slumped down for a snooze. It had been a long walk for a small dog. “They must work for the dock company, or perhaps one of the merchants. There’s a lot of counting and lists to make, you see, when the ships are being unloaded.”

  The two men seemed to be talking about a music-hall show that they had been to the previous night – they were arguing about the conjuror. “I tell you, he made it disappear!” the younger man protested, as he ran a comb over his slicked black hair. It was shining with hair oil, and it made Maisie shudder.

  “That rabbit did not disappear, Bertie. There was a trapdoor, or some such.” The other clerk rolled his eyes. Then he elbowed Bertie in the ribs. “Next you’ll be claiming that old Lacey’s ships disappeared. Was that magic, then?”

  Maisie and Alice stared at each other, and leaned closer.

  “Who knows?” Bertie shook his head. “He’s gone off to China to investigate, did you hear that?”

  The other clerk looked surprised. “Really? So it isn’t some sort of swindle, then? Lacey didn’t sink them himself?”

  Maisie grabbed Alice’s arm. Her friend’s cheeks had flushed suddenly scarlet, and it looked as though she was about to dash out of their hiding place and tell the two clerks that it wasn’t true and her father was an honest man.

  “Shh!” Maisie hissed, slapping her hand across Alice’s mouth.

  “What was that?” Bertie asked, starting towards the bales. “Someone skulking back there?”

  Alice gave Maisie a horrified glance and the two girls looked around them anxiously. They were tucked tightly behind the bales, and there was no way to get out without the men seeing them and knowing that they’d been spying. They would be kicked out of the dockyard – or worse.

  “We’ll just have to brazen it out,” Maisie muttered. “Let me do the talking,” she added in a gruff whisper, trying to find her boy’s voice.

  But Eddie had sensed their panic. He jumped up and peered round the bales, wondering why the girls sounded so scared. When he saw two perfectly friendly looking gentlemen, he trotted out, his tail wagging.

  “A dog! Scruffy little beast.”

  “Must have been ratting. Good boy, aren’t you?”

  Maisie peeped out and saw Bertie scratching Eddie behind the ears, while Eddie drooled at him delightedly, and then rolled over on to his back.

  “Half the rats in the warehouse are bigger than he is,” the other man snorted. “Still, I suppose the little beggar can get down the holes after the brutes. Come on, Bertie, better get back to work, I suppose.”

  The two men sauntered away, and Eddie pattered back to Maisie and Alice, looking smug.

  “Oh, you’re such a good boy!” Maisie hugged him.

  “I’m sorry, Maisie,” Alice whispered, crouching down to pat Eddie’s nose. “I’m not very good at this spying thing. I got so angry when he said that about Papa!”

  Maisie put an arm round her friend’s shoulders. “Perhaps it was good, though. Now you know to keep quiet.”

  “Oh, I do!” Alice agreed. “What shall we do next? We could try and see where they went? Maybe they’ll say something else about the case? I promise to be perfectly silent,” she added hurriedly.

  “Maybe.” Maisie chewed her bottom lip. For such a busy place, there seemed to be surprisingly little gossiping going on. The unloading was so noisy, the dockworkers probably couldn’t hear well enough to chat. They’d been lucky to catch those two clerks. “Or we could look at the cargo from your father’s ships. Perhaps that would give us a clue?”

  “Oh yes.” Alice nodded, and they sneaked out from behind the bales, threading their way carefully along the quay. Alice peered into the cavernous warehouses as they passed, checking the numbers painted over the doors and looking for the right one. “Here,” she murmured at last. “This is the one. It’s almost empty.” She swallowed sadly. “The cargoes were all lost.”

  Maisie looked round the little door that was cut into the great front doors of the warehouse. The main ones would be opened when there was a ship moored at the wharf in front to unload. Today the warehouse looked dark and empty, with just a few shafts of sunlight cutting through the dusty air. Some boxes were piled up at the back, but that was all.

  “Let’s go and look at those,” she whispered to Alice. “No one’s here.”

  The girls crept into the warehouse and stood staring down at the boxes. Several of them were open, the nails pulled out of the wooden lids, and Maisie was just about to lift one of them off, when heavy footsteps shook the boarded floor.

  “Just what do you two brats think you’re up to?”

  Maisie let out a squeak, and then immediately coughed, trying to sound growly and boyish. “Nothing,” she croaked. But she could hear how suspicious she sounded – she might as well have just admitt
ed that they were snooping around, looking for clues.

  The huge man towering over them gave a whistly sort of laugh and rubbed his hands together. Maisie shivered and felt Alice huddle close up against her. He looked like he was going to throw them into the dirty water of the dock. And enjoy it…

  Eddie let out a breathy little snarl, and Maisie scooped him up. If he tried to bite, the docker would probably wring his neck. Eddie growled and wriggled, as if he was eager to hunt, and Maisie remembered the two clerks. “We’re just ratting,” she burst out. “Mr Jones said to.” Surely there’s a Mr Jones at the docks somewhere, she thought. “One ran in between these boxes, a great big one. With yellow teeth.”

  The man stared at the pile of boxes and took a step back. He looked Maisie and Alice up and down, scowling. “Something funny about you two,” he muttered. “Just can’t put my finger on it. Get on out of here. And if I see you hanging around again, I’ll stick you in a barrel, like that poor feller we found on the Golden Lady.” He snorted with laughter at their horrified faces. “Didn’t hear about that one, then? All nailed up in a barrel. She came over from China – we unloaded her Tuesday last. And the smell! Half the quayside lost their breakfasts into the water… Now, go on, hop it, before I change my mind!”

  They hardly spoke on the way back to Albion Street. Maisie was worried about Alice – she was so white and frightened-looking. She wasn’t used to people shouting at her, ever. As they ducked into the yard behind the house, Maisie caught her arm.

  “Please say something,” she begged, staring at Alice. “I know it was scary. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken you there… We shouldn’t have gone. It was too dangerous.”

  Alice’s eyes widened. “Maisie, we went to the docks because I want to help Papa! And you want to find out about your father’s mystery, too. You didn’t make me go! That man was frightening… But he was mostly talking to you, not me.” She smiled, a slightly trembly little smile. “Which meant he wasn’t looking when I found this.” She took off her big peaked cap and pulled out a delicate little china plate, painted with golden flowers.

  “You had that plate on your head all the way home?” Maisie gasped. “You took that from the warehouse? What if he’d caught you?”

  “I had to!” Alice hissed. “I didn’t just do it for fun, Maisie, look at it!”

  Maisie took the plate, stroking the thin, translucent china. “It’s beautiful,” she agreed. “But I still don’t see—Oh!” She looked at the pattern again, frowning. “It’s the same as the one on that pretty set in your drawing room.”

  “Exactly,” Alice said triumphantly. “The boxes hidden at the back were full of it.”

  “So?” Maisie shook her head. “I don’t understand. There’s more china like it in the warehouse, so what?”

  “That set in our drawing room was a sample that Papa’s agent in China sent. To see if he liked it and to ask if he should send more over. There was only that one set in the whole country, Maisie! Papa said yes, but that cargo of precious china is what went down with the Sarah-Rose!” Alice folded her arms. “Or that’s what Papa was told.”

  “So that plate is proof that the Sarah-Rose didn’t sink?” Maisie gasped.

  Alice nodded. “No wonder they didn’t want anyone snooping around.”

  Maisie and Alice were sitting on Maisie’s bed, leaning against the wall. It was only late afternoon, but they were both exhausted from the long journey to the docks and from their terrifying encounter with the man in the warehouse. Maisie had her father’s notebook open on her lap, but she wasn’t really reading it, just flicking idly through the pages.

  Alice smothered a ladylike yawn. “We know that Papa was right – those ships didn’t just sink, or at least the Sarah-Rose didn’t. But what do we do about it?”

  “I suppose someone at the docks must have put those boxes there,” Maisie said thoughtfully. “Maybe that horrible man who chased us away. He looked suspicious. If only we could find out for sure.”

  Alice shuddered and huddled closer to Maisie. “We’ll have to go back, won’t we?”

  Maisie nodded. “Perhaps to the clerks’ rooms, if we could get in there. They might know more about the different cargoes. But maybe we should go as ourselves this time and explain why we’re there, don’t you think?” Alice didn’t answer, and Maisie looked down at her anxiously, but then she smiled. Alice was asleep against her shoulder. Maisie flicked over another couple of pages, tracing her fingers over one of her father’s little drawings, and then gradually her head slipped forward and she slept, too.

  “Maisie!”

  Alice sounded horrified and Maisie woke up with a jump. She had been dreaming about that man in the warehouse, except that in her dream he was even bigger, and there was a whole stack of barrels lined up behind him, and he had been about to squash her and Alice into one of them… Maisie shook her head firmly. It was only a dream.

  “What is it?” she asked sleepily. “Is my gran calling us?”

  “No, look!” Alice shook her arm. “Maisie, look what Eddie’s done!”

  Maisie peered down at the little dog, who was lying on the bed next to her. Had he been chasing Snowflake, or the kittens? He hadn’t hurt them, had he? Maisie looked around worriedly for telltale wisps of white fur. But amazingly enough, Snowflake was curled up on her bed, too, on the other side of Alice, and the kittens were chasing a feather under Alice’s little folding cot.

  She looked back at Eddie and for a moment thought he was chewing on one of his bones. Then she realized why Alice sounded so shocked. He was nibbling at her father’s notebook. The spine was almost completely chewed away.

  “Oh, Eddie, no!” Maisie wailed, snatching it from him. Pages sagged out of the book, and the front cover fell off. “Oh no, oh no,” she murmured, scrabbling for the pages, and Eddie peered up at her in surprise. Then his ears drooped guiltily. He didn’t understand what he had done wrong, but he could tell that Maisie wasn’t happy.

  “Maybe it tasted salty, because of the sea,” Maisie sighed. “Oh, Eddie. All my father’s notes! And he asked me to look after them.” Her voice wobbled.

  Snowflake padded on to Alice’s lap and flicked her whiskers smugly at Eddie. But he didn’t even growl. He crawled off the bed and went to hide himself underneath it.

  “Maisie, what’s that?” Alice asked suddenly, picking up the back cover of the notebook as it slithered away from the binding completely and flumped on to the bed. “Look, that’s not how it’s supposed to be, is it?”

  “There’s something in there,” Maisie murmured, sitting up a little straighter and taking the limp, chewed thing from Alice. The cover wasn’t just one piece of card, as she’d thought. It had been folded over, to make a sort of pocket. And inside the pocket were a handful of small pieces of paper that cascaded out as she tipped it up. They were covered in tiny handwriting. Her father’s handwriting.

  “Secret notes…” Maisie whispered. She fanned them out across the bed, frowning down at them. “My father didn’t want anybody to see these – not even me.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t read them…” Alice suggested doubtfully, but Maisie shook her head.

  “We have to. What if there’s something important? Something that might let us help your father?” She didn’t tell Alice what she had seen as the papers scattered down on to the patchwork quilt. The name Lacey, underlined as though it was significant with a great dark scratch of pencil.

  “There are dates, so we can put them in order,” she murmured, starting to sort out the little pieces. “Here’s the first, look.”

  November 8th

  Can’t write this in my commonplace book any longer. Too many prying eyes around here. Too dangerous. Only just starting to be able to think clearly and write again. Bedridden for almost a week. The crew say that it was a block come loose from the rigging, it swung down and hit me over the back of the head. But I have my doubts. If it was a block, it was loosened from its rope on purpose. Someone wants me kept quie
t. Pity for them that I have such a hard head!

  But I will have to play the fool for a while now, and not let them see that I suspect. Ha! I don’t even know who it is I’m suspecting!

  November 15th

  Gossip going around the port here is that Mr Lacey is going to get himself into trouble. He won’t leave well alone and say goodbye to his sunken ships as he should. Poor man. He must suspect, as I do, that those ships of his are safe and sound. Each of them is tucked away in another harbour under another name.

  January 6th

  So angry. I blame myself. I should never have mentioned my thoughts to the captain, but I knew that he was honest – somehow I could tell. I warned him not to go digging about! He should have listened! Lost overboard? Never. Captain Morris had the best sea legs of any man, he would never have slipped and fallen over the rail. It’s nonsense – the poor captain was asking too many questions. Very glad that I have hidden these notes. Have made sure to make a sad entry into the main part of the book, grieving for the captain and his dreadful “accident”! Am sure that someone is reading everything I write.

  “He did!” Maisie gasped. “He wrote it in the notebook, I remember reading it again before I went to sleep a couple of nights ago. He said that due to a terrible misfortune, the dear captain had been swept overboard, perhaps by a freak wave.”

  “I read it, too…” Alice whispered shakily. “Oh, Maisie, this is dreadful! These men killed your father’s captain! They already suspect your father, and now my father is going to China to stir them up all over again!”

  Maisie gulped. “I know.” She put her hand in Alice’s, squeezing her friend’s cold fingers. “So we shall simply have to solve the mystery before your father’s ship arrives.”