Page 81 of The Christmas Spirits on Tradd Street
Anthony chuckled. “Yes, of course. Just making sure you’d done your homework.”
I wasn’t sure, but I thought Meghan might have rolled her eyes as she placed the wrapped item on an empty corner of the table, then carefully peeled back the layers. She stood back so we could see it under the light of the chandelier.
“Wow,” Anthony and I said in union, our hands stretched at the same time.
“Please put these on before you handle it,” Meghan said, pulling out a pair of gloves and handing it to me. “Sorry, Mr. Longo. I only have one pair, so you’ll have to wait your turn.”
I quickly slid on the gloves, then hesitated a moment. “It’s the brooch, isn’t it? Eliza’s brooch from the portrait.” I carefully lifted it in one hand, fitting it inside my palm while I traced the outline of the peacock’s head and body and the splayed tail feathers, as if to reassure myself that it wasn’t my imagination.
Meghan nodded. “I pulled up a photo of the painting I took on myphone and compared it. It’s definitely the same. Well, either an exact replica or the same one.”
“But all four stones are missing,” Anthony said, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.
Meghan glanced up at him before redirecting her attention toward me. “We’re pretty sure it’s pinchbeck—that’s why it didn’t show up on any of our scans. And because pinchbeck was almost exclusively used for costume jewelry, we’re assuming that the stones were glass or paste.”
“Have you found any of the stones?” Anthony asked. “I mean, even if they’re not valuable, it would be nice to put them back in the brooch. For posterity.”
Meghan shook her head. “Not yet. But if they’re in there, we’ll find them. We’re literally sifting through every ounce of dirt. We’ll be lucky to be done by next Christmas.” She laughed but stopped when she realized no one else was laughing with her. She cleared her throat. “Flip it over and look closely at the back of the bird’s head.”
I squinted and saw only blurry gold before holding it up for Anthony to see, and he did the same. Even with my glasses it was too small for me to read. This time I was sure Meghan rolled her eyes. Pointing toward a spot on the back of the brooch, she said, “The initials S.V. are engraved on the neck of the bird. So, even if it’s pinchbeck and it’s missing its stones, it could have some value just because of who the jewelry maker was.”
“Samuel Vanderhorst!” I shouted, as if I were a contestant onWheel of Fortune. “He was the metalworker who did all the gates in the cemetery at Gallen Hall, right? And later became famous as a freedman after the Revolution when he set up shop in downtown Charleston.”
“Exactly,” Meghan said. “It’s further evidence that this might be Eliza’s brooch, since both she and Samuel lived at Gallen Hall around the same time. It’s possible she commissioned it, or someone else did for her. Maybe he did it as a favor in return for his freedom.”
“Why do you say that?” Anthony asked.
Meghan shrugged. “Well, it was unusual for a slave to be freedbecause he was good at something. His owner could make a profit from the slave’s skills. Samuel Vanderhorst was incredibly skilled—and Carrollton Vanderhorst definitely knew it. It’s curious, that’s all. Something lost to history, I suppose. Or buried in a cistern.”
“True,” I said, gently placing the brooch on top of the cloth. “Have you shown this to Dr. Wallen-Arasi yet?”
“No. I wanted to get it to you as soon as possible, and I figured I’d let you show it to her.” She glanced at Anthony again. “Marc Longo and that Harvey person were hanging around the dig again this morning, making sure we knew to tell them if we found anything interesting.”
“Did they see this?” I asked in alarm.
“Nope. My Burberry jacket has these great, deep pockets so I stuck it in there as soon as Rachel showed it to me.”
“Good job, Meghan,” Anthony said.
“I agree. Thanks, Meghan. You’ve been a big help.”
She beamed at us. “Anytime—happy to help.” She glanced over at the dining room. “And if you think you need more help with that puzzle, please let me know. I’d love to work on it, and I bet my friend Rachel would, too.”
I walked her to the door and opened it for her. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind next time I’ve spent three hours at the table without finding a single piece.”
We said good-bye and I closed the door behind her. Rubbing my hands over my arms, I walked back to the dining room, where Anthony stood looking down at the brooch. “A cold front’s coming in. The weatherman said this morning there was a chance of snow by this weekend. I sure hope not. It’s a rare occurrence, thankfully, but Charleston is worse than Atlanta when it comes to snow.”
“Hmm,” he said, making me wonder if he’d heard anything I’d said. “You should probably keep this here, just to make sure Marc doesn’t see it.”
“I thought about that, but I really need to show it to Sophie, get herexpert opinion. Not to worry—I have a good hiding spot in mind. He’ll never find it.”
“Oh, sounds fascinating. Where?”
I carefully rewrapped the brooch in the soft cloth it had arrived in. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a good hiding spot, would it?”
He laughed. “No, I suppose not. Just hide it well. At least until Marc and Harvey are done.”
“If they’ll ever be done. They’re having so many technical problems I’ve suggested they find a soundstage somewhere and make it look like my house. Because then they’d be out of my hair.”
