Page 8 of Skullduggery
She didn’t speak, just raised a shaky arm and pointed. When I saw what she was looking at, my eyes widened. The darkness made them hard to see clearly but, from the small chinks of daylight seeping through the shutters, it appeared that there was a set of footprints trailing through the dust from the front door to the staircase and beyond. A matching set trailed back in the opposite direction.
I looked around and registered the tracks of my own footsteps. We weren’t the only people who’d been here in the recent past. My heart started beating faster, fluttering like a butterfly trying to escape an impenetrable net.
‘Lady Rose.’ Her voice hushed with amazement, Hester flew down to the nearest footprint. ‘Lady Rose has been here after all.’
Not unless she wore size twelve boots, she hadn’t. ‘These almost certainly belong to a man,’ I said. All the same, I looked from side to side, as if the woman herself were about to make an appearance.
Otis was already twitching. ‘Do you think he’s still here? Do you think he’ll attack us? Do you think?—?'
I put up my hand to reassure him before he had a full-blown panic attack. ‘No. Whoever made these was here some time ago.’ I slid a fingertip along the length of the print. ‘Enough dust has settled to prove that.’ I pointed. ‘And look. They came through the front door, walked across the hall and went up the stairs. Then they came back again and left. We’re alone.’
Hester flew towards the front door and used her full weight to tug down on the handle. ‘It’s locked.’ She dipped down and gazed at the heavy lock. ‘Whoever came in had a key. Maybe there’s a caretaker who pops in from time to time,’ she added doubtfully.
‘To do what? Dust?’ Otis asked. He waved his arms aroundand sent a cloud of tiny motes flying about around his little body. ‘If that’s the case, they’re not doing a very good job.’
‘Let’s not jump to conclusions before we know what’s really going on.’ I sounded far calmer than I felt. ‘It might have been Gordon – I’m sure he’s been here lots of times. He’ll have a key to this place.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Hester’s expression was still doubtful.
‘Or maybe it was someone who used a similar magic tool to fiddle with the locks, like I did at the back door,’ I added. ‘Let’s follow the trail and see where it leads.’ I unsheathed Gladys. ‘Just in case,’ I said unnecessarily loudly.
The brownies nodded gratefully; for her part, Gladys hummed in what I supposed was a sentient sword’s expression of happiness.
We edged towards the grand staircase and started to ascend.
The further up we went, the less distinct the prints became, often appearing to be little more than smudged marks. When we reached the first-floor landing, however, they reappeared as distinct boot marks leading to the next flight of stairs. I glanced at the brownies; despite their taut expressions, they nodded in silent agreement at my unspoken question. We crossed to the stairs and climbed some more.
This was a mansion with a lot of rooms. Yet another flight of stairs stretched up to another floor, but the dusty footprints veered left. Whoever had made them hadn’t gone any further up but had walked to the room at the opposite end of the landing. I was no tracker, but I didn’t think the intruder had hesitated at any point. Whoever had been here knew where they were going.
I licked my lips; my nervousness and my excitement were growing. I pulled back my shoulders and marched alongside thetrail of prints to the door, put out my hand and rested it on the handle.
‘Do it,’ Hester whispered. ‘Open it.’
I waited another beat then, with my heart in my mouth, I did as she said. Unlike the squeaky doors we’d opened so far, this one swung open noiselessly, suggesting that its hinges had been oiled. I tried not to allow that to bother me and peered inside the room. Although it was as dark as everywhere else in the house, the shapes of the dust-sheet covered furniture suggested it was a bedroom.
‘Daisy was right.’ Hester sounded relieved. ‘Nobody is here.’ She flew past me to an old light switch and pushed on it with both hands. It clicked down but no lights came on; the electricity must have been shut off years ago.
I edged around the room trying not to disturb the footprints. Reaching the nearest set of shutters, I heaved them open until there was enough light to see properly without using my phone.
This was definitely a bedroom. I looked at the large four-poster bed, unmistakable beneath the large sheets that covered its frame, and shivered. Was this where Lady Rose had slept? Why had the mysterious stranger who’d entered this house before us come into this particular room?
Hester and Otis flew slowly over the trail of bootprints and followed them until they were out of my eyeline. There was a moment of silence before Otis called, ‘Er, Daisy?’ He sounded worried. ‘You should come and see this.’
They were hovering above a dressing table. Unlike the rest of the furniture, this wasn’t covered. I moved faster until I was staring down at it, probably with the same expression as the brownies.
Oh.
The surface was marked in several places where variousaccoutrements would once have stood. There were circles that might have been made by perfume bottles and a discoloured rectangle that could mark the position of a jewellery box. Those items must have been cleared away a long time ago – but the top of the dressing table wasn’t empty.
Lying in its centre was a sealed white envelope, and written on the front of it in a looping, old-fashioned script was one lonely word:Daisy.
Chapter
Four
Istared slack-jawed at the envelope. Yet another distracting wave of light-headedness assailed me; I shook my head with annoyance and tried to focus.
‘What does it mean, Daisy?’ Otis asked.
