Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

1 0 Kerry Greenwood
Phryne smiled the smile of a canary-fed cat. ‘Not everywhere.
They just thought that they looked everywhere. They got the
alchemical paintings, though. I left them on my dressing table.
But the paper and the translation—no.’
‘How can you tell?’ asked Simon. ‘You haven’t checked.’
‘Yes, I have. Now, I think we should open a bottle of champagne,
which is still cooling in the bucket over there just as Mr.
Butler left it. The burglar had no taste for good wine, fortunately.
There are glasses in the cupboard underneath, and he’s learned
from Mrs. Rose’s. He didn’t break one of them.’
‘Phryne,’ Simon begged. ‘Please!’
‘No one ever died of curiosity, Simon dear, and I’d rather
you didn’t know. What you don’t know cannot be persuaded or
forced from you.’
‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’
Phryne lit a cigarette and drew in the smoke hungrily.
‘Certainly. Consider: to get into this room, someone had to
climb the tree and then the roof, a dangerous climb with no holds.
I have felt as though someone was watching me for the last few
nights, he must have been waiting until we were all out. The person
took a huge risk of being seen by anyone passing by in the street or
being caught by either of the two groups who returned at a more
decorous time than we did. I expect that the girls were home by
ten, and Dot would not have let Hugh stay beyond eleven. And
the Butlers would have come home about then, possibly a little
later depending on the running of the last tram. Our burglar really
wanted to get in. It must have taken fully half an hour to search
as comprehensively as he did. No, this is serious, Simon, and I
am getting a better latch on that window tomorrow. Not even
my insurance company thought that a window in an upper floor
needed a lock. And you know how constitutionally suspicious
insurance companies are. Thank you,’ she said, gulping thirstily.
‘All right, it’s serious. But if it wasn’t me, and I’ve known it
wasn’t me all along,’ said Simon severely, ‘then who was it?’
‘Agents or minions of the buyer,’ replied Phryne. ‘See if you
can persuade your friends to tell you who it is. I understand