Twenty-Seven
I was just heading out of the house the next morning when Owen Dowling called. Still on edge from the night’s events, I answered cautiously when I saw the store name on the display.
“I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time,” he said. “You asked that I call you the next time my great-aunt came to the shop. She’s here now, as it happens. I told her about the stereoscope you found and she’s very eager to speak with you about it.”
“Did she recognize the names in the inscription?” I asked anxiously.
“I’ll let the two of you talk about that. Would it be possible for you to drop by the shop this morning?”
“What time?”
“The sooner the better as I don’t know how long she plans to be here.”
“I’ll come right now, then.”
“Wonderful! I’ll tell her to expect you. And, Miss Gray? Don’t forget to bring the stereoscope.”
Twenty minutes later, I found myself striding down King Street with my backpack thrown over one shoulder. It was not yet ten so most of the shops were still closed, but downtown already bustled with tourists. There were so many people out and about and the sun shone so brightly from a cloudless sky that I felt only mild trepidation as I turned down the alley toward Dowling Curiosities. Devlin’s investigation had unearthed nothing suspicious on either the shop or Owen, but even if he had discovered something untoward, I doubt I would have been thwarted. After what happened last evening, a human threat would almost be welcome.
The shop was locked so I tapped on the glass until Owen Dowling appeared at the window. Drawing open the door, he flashed a charming smile as he gave a slight bow. A courtly and old-fashioned greeting even by Devlin’s standards.
“Miss Gray! Thank you for coming on such short notice.” He moved back from the door and motioned for me to enter.
Stepping across the threshold, I was once again assailed by the medicinal aroma of camphor. The overhead lights had not yet been turned on and I could see dust motes dancing in the beams of sunlight streaming in through the windows. The effect was unexpectedly cheery given my mood and the bizarre nature of some of the collectibles.
“Thank you for calling me. I’m so happy your great-aunt agreed to meet with me. She’s still here, I hope.” I couldn’t see anyone else in the shop, but decided his aunt must be in the back.
“She is.” Owen nodded toward my backpack. “You brought the stereoscope?”
“Of course.”
“See, Auntie? I told you she wouldn’t forget.”
My gaze darted around the shop, but I still didn’t notice anyone until the woman came out from behind one of the display cases. Her dark attire and diminutive stature had rendered her almost invisible in the shadows.
I was so taken aback by her sudden appearance that it took me a moment to recognize her. Then I exclaimed, “Miss Toombs!”
“Lovely to see you again, Miss Gray...Amelia.”
I turned to Owen accusingly. “So you did recognize the inscription when I was in here before. Why didn’t you say so?”
He put up a hand in protest. “I swear to you, I wasn’t familiar with those names. I’ve never heard my aunt called by anything other than her given name. I had no idea she was the Neddy in the inscription.”
“He’s right,” Nelda said. “Neither of those nicknames has been used in decades. No one in Owen’s generation would have recognized them. Still,” she turned to give him a gentle rebuke. “You might have told her who she was coming to see when you phoned her. I’m afraid I gave our visitor a shock.”
“How was I to know that the two of you had already met? It seems I’m the one in the dark here.” He removed a feather duster from a nearby hook and swept it along a row of antique dolls. The slight rustle of their taffeta skirts sounded like rain. “Go ahead and have your talk,” he said peevishly. “I’ll just be over here dusting.”
Nelda’s dark eyes glittered mischievously as she slipped her fingers through his suspenders and gave them a playful snap. “Don’t scowl so, nephew. It’ll give you wrinkles.”
“Heaven forbid,” he said in mock horror as he sidestepped away from her.
She turned to me with an encouraging smile. “Let’s go back to the office, shall we? We’ll be more comfortable there, and I’ve made tea.”
I followed her through the curtains into a large storage room of neatly arranged boxes and crates. The office was tucked away in a corner at the back of the building. An antique writing desk faced the door, but Nelda led me past the workspace to a small sitting area furnished with a striped settee and two Queen Anne chairs. The upholstery and rugs were in soothing shades of blue and green—sea colors—that complemented the lush courtyard I could glimpse through French doors. It was all very vintage and feminine. Very old Charleston.