LEONARD NAIR HOLMES WAS ACCUSTOMED TO GAPS IN THE CALENDAR, days that simply went away. Once, in 1928, he misplaced all of June. And he had no solid proof that 1931 ever existed. People told him it did—they showed him newspapers and everything—but you can’t believe everything you read.
So when Leo woke in his darkened room in Ellingham house that Tuesday morning, he went about his business after his nice, refreshing sleep. It was time to find breakfast. He scuffed out of his room in slippers and a tattered and overly long maroon silk robe that dragged behind, gathering dust. This was something, considering that Leo was well over six feet tall. He’d had the dressing gown made for a giant, all loose sleeves and big pockets and long drag. He made it as far as the landing before being scooped up by Flora Robinson, who pulled him to his room.
“Even if I wanted to, darling,” he said to her, “I’m going to need a grapefruit, four eggs, and about three ounces of gin before . . .”
She clapped a hand over his mouth and shut the door.
“What’s gotten into you?” he said, reaching his long-fingered hand into the dressing gown pocket to find his cigarette case.
“Leo! Iris and Alice have been kidnapped!”
Leo slowly raised his peaked black eyebrows and pulled a cigarette from the silver-and-jade case. He tapped it a few times on the side before putting it to his mouth. He patted his pockets. Finding nothing, Leo went to his bedstead and fumbled around for a moment, turning on the light and wincing. He dug through the pile of books and detritus, finally producing a battered box of matches to light his cigarette.
“They were taken when they went out for their drive yesterday, and there’s been a ransom call,” Flora said, keeping her voice low. “Albert brought George Marsh back. They’re feeding the staff a bull story about how she spent the night in Burlington with a friend, and they’re trying to keep the cops out of it for now. I know they did a drop last night that didn’t go well. The kidnappers took the money but they didn’t get Iris and Alice back. They asked for more money. Albert’s getting it now.”
Leo took a few long, lung-congesting draws to get his brain moving.
“Oh,” he said.
“Oh? That’s all you can say? They’ve been kidnapped.”
Leo pulled hard on the cigarette, producing a burn audible from across the room, stroked the beard he had developed while he was sleeping with a blue-fingernailed hand. He examined the edges of nail varnish for a moment.
“Have you cleaned up?” he said.
“I did what I could,” she replied. “For her. I went to her room as soon as I realized something was happening.”
“For all of us, Flora. A rising tide sinks all boats.”
“We need to do something,” Flora said.
“Such as? I don’t know where she is. I barely know where I am.”
“We have to think. Who would do this? Maybe we should tell them everything. Maybe we have to.”
“Flora,” Leo said slowly, “I realize you have a conscience and that’s what’s talking now, but how will that help? It won’t help us and it certainly won’t help Iris or Alice.”
“You don’t know . . .”
“Think, Florie. Think. Have you noticed where we are? We are in the remote home of Albert Ellingham, tycoon. Anyone who likes money could have taken Iris and Alice, and everyone likes money. And anyone could do it because we are up on the side of a mountain. Albert will pay them.”
Flora sank back against the wall.
“You, my dear, need something for your nerves,” he said.
“No,” Flora snapped. “I don’t.”
They were interrupted by a heavy rapping at the door. Leo motioned for Flora to open it.
“Morning, Albert,” Flora said. “I was just getting Leo out of bed. Everything all right?”
“No,” Albert said, all pretense gone. “It’s not. Nair, I need you to make a batch of your invisible ink.”
“I don’t have my equipment.”
“We have a fully equipped science lab here.”
“Of course,” Leo said. “Give me a few hours. . . .”
“No,” Albert said. “Immediately. This moment. Make as much as you can as fast as you can. How long does it take?”
“An hour?” Nair said, looking at Flora uncertainly. “Maybe two. It depends on the quantity.”
“Then you have an hour. You take whatever is necessary from anywhere, but you must be quick.”
“Let me get dressed and I’ll get to it.”
When Albert was gone, Flora pressed the door closed.
“Ink?” Leo said.
“Ransom money,” Flora replied. “He must be marking it. You get to it and I’ll see what else I can find out.”
Once Flora was gone, Leo locked the door and went to his closet. Inside, on a small table, was a small setup of scales and beakers and burners. There were delicate blue bottles that contained not an insignificant amount of chemicals of all sorts. Leo had always loved chemistry as a child. He mixed his own paints, which was why they had such an unusually vivid hue. He also made makeup, which was how he got blue nails and Iris and Flora got such remarkable eye shadows and blushes. It was why his own cheeks often sparkled faintly of silver.
This was not a paint set. Or a makeup set.
He didn’t waste time. He put the bottles and beakers into his satchel, pulled a pair of trousers on over his nightclothes, and walked downstairs as if he didn’t have a care in the world.