Page 99 of The Maid's Secret

We gather in the living room, and I wait until everyone has coffee before speaking. “Thanks to Gran’s diary,” I say, as I hold it in my hands, “I’ve deduced a string of crucial clues that connects us to the culprits who stole the egg,” I say.

“And who are they?” Stark asks.

“To figure that out, you have to follow the trail.”

“Great,” says Stark. “A sixa.m. treasure hunt.”

“The Bees are connected,” I say. “But the question is how and to what end. When she was young, my gran was about to marry into a wealthy family firm. The husband and wife, Magnus and Priscilla Braun, dealt in art,” I say. “Isn’t that right, Gran-dad?”

“Not exactly,” he replies. “They were certainly wealthy, but theirs was an investment firm.”

“At first,” I say, “but at some point, that changed. They were definitely art collectors.” I find the entry in Gran’s diary where she talks about visiting the Braun household, going from room to room full of priceless antiquities. I pass the diary to Gran-dad.

“I never stepped foot in the Braun mansion. I had no idea Priscilla Braun was an art collector,” he says as he passes the diary to Detective Stark.

“And their last name—Braun,” I say. “Gran-dad, did you never connect it to the Bees?”

“Why would I?” he asks.

“Braun means Brown,” I say. “It’s the same name.”

“And the easiest thing for a family of pedigree is to modify their last name—especially if they were trying to hide something,” says Stark.

“Now look at this,” I say as I take back the diary in my shaking hands. I flip through it to find the entry where Algernon admits to Gran that the egg was stolen by father and son. I read Algernon’s chilling words out loud—“ ‘What we want, we take.’ And see here?” I add. “Gran asked her fiancé about a baron who Magnus Braun was about to go into business with before getting cozy with us Grays. Abaron,” I say, waiting for someone to connect the dots.

“Beagle’s grandfather was a baron,” Juan says.

“That portrait in their office. The baron died a year ago,” Angela adds.

“Touché,” I reply.

“Show me where Baron Beagle is named,” Detective Stark says, putting down her coffee for the first time.

“I can’t,” I say. “Because Gran doesn’t name him, not specifically, but a couple of times, she references a baron who was an art dealer. Her parents knew him. The baron and baroness came to a ball at Gray Manor.”

“Goodness,” says my gran-dad. “They did. The Workers’ Ball was a big to-do that year, because Magnus Braunanda baron were in attendance.”

“But was the baron a Beagle?” Stark asks. “Did you meet him, Mr.Preston?”

“Me? Meet the baron?” Gran-dad says. “I was a fill-in footman. The Grays would never have introduced me to someone of such high status. Plus, I had eyes for only one person that night.”

“My gran,” I say. “You danced with her. You fell into lock step.”

“Did she say that?” Gran-dad asks, his eyes glassy when they meet mine.

“She did,” I reply.

“Mr.Preston, I didn’t know you danced,” says Juan.

“Another well-kept secret,” I reply.

“Please, can we keep this moving?” Stark asks. “Molly, what you’re saying is that your grandmother was connected to both the BraunandBeagle families via the egg. And, Mr.Preston, you never knew about that?”

“I had no idea. The Brauns were dubious, though,” he replies. “And years ago, when I worked as a gatekeeper for the Grimthorpes, I never saw the egg because I was never allowed in the mansion. The first time I laid eyes on the thing was in that curio cabinet after Molly brought it here one day. And the only Fabergé Flora ever referenced was her bank account.”

“Our joint savings,” I say. “She always called it the ‘Fabergé.’ ”

“Coincidence?” Angela asks.

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