*
The house on Grosvenor Street was … different now. Freddy and Mel stood in the middle of the living room and stared. There was no way all this stuff had been in the moving van. The van would have had to be about half a block long.
Chairs were everywhere. It was the first thing Freddy noticed, mainly because it was impossible not to; there were so many chairs that it was difficult to find somewhere to stand. Freddy counted six identical squashy green armchairs, two maroon recliners, seven carved wooden chairs with faded orange cushions, five blue woven chairs, a wicker chair, six folding chairs, and ten stools of various sizes. Four of the folding chairs were perched on top of the grand piano, which was the second thing Freddy noticed. There had not been a grand piano in the van. The six standing lamps and the giant urn with a picture of a flautist and two soppy-looking young people on it seemed to be new as well.
Mel said, somewhat unnecessarily, “You have a lot of chairs.”
“Hurrah,” said Josiah. “She’s been at it again. Cuerva Lachance!”
“Yes?” said Cuerva Lachance, who was standing behind the piano. Freddy had to look twice to make sure. She could have sworn there had been no one there a second ago.
“You have to stop with the chairs,” said Josiah, sounding exasperated. “What do you want them all for?”
Cuerva Lachance peered innocently out from beneath her hat. “I needed somewhere to sit.”
Josiah said, “You have somewhere to sit. The whole world has somewhere to sit.”
“That makes me happy,” said Cuerva Lachance. “Do you play the piano, curly-haired one?”
Freddy said, “I did once.” It had been a long time ago. The lessons had stopped shortly after her parents’ separation.
“I do,” said Mel, who had taught herself. “Is that a Steinway?”
“It’s possible,” said Cuerva Lachance. “I haven’t asked it. It’s grateful when I play it, though it doesn’t like the climate here.”
“I bet you have fun up in the tower,” said Mel.
Freddy saw Josiah’s eyebrows shoot up in what looked like alarm. He mouthed, Don’t mention the tower! Mel wasn’t looking at him, and anyway, it was too late. Cuerva Lachance tilted her head. “What tower where?”
“Upstairs,” said Mel. “There’s a door through to it. Didn’t you know—?”
“I have to roll marbles down an inclined plane,” said Josiah loudly. “Come and watch.”
He climbed over three chairs and a footstool and disappeared into the kitchen. “Ooh,” said Cuerva Lachance, “Josie’s doing schoolwork. Odds are good he’ll set something on fire.”
The kitchen was as cluttered as the living room. There were chairs here, too, but only ten or so; most of the space was taken up by the spider plants. They occupied every surface, and a few were hanging from ceiling hooks. Freddy had always liked spider plants because of the long, snaking trailers with the little baby plants at the ends of them, but this was a bit much even for her. Josiah was irritably clearing spider plants off the kitchen table and dumping them onto the floor. “Cuerva Lachance strikes again,” he said. “Honestly, why do we need more than one of these things?”
“I like them,” said Cuerva Lachance. “They’re scrappy.”
“It wasn’t like this on Friday, was it?” Mel whispered to Freddy, who glanced at her, puzzled. She hadn’t known Mel had been over here on Friday. She also wasn’t sure why Mel was talking as if Freddy had been over here on Friday, too.
Mel said more loudly, “Do most private investigators have houses like this?”
“No. I’m unique,” said Cuerva Lachance. “Besides, my current case is frustrating, and I need something to distract me.” Josiah snorted.
“What’s your case?” said Mel. Freddy figured she had been wanting to ask that question for nearly a week.
“Missing persons,” said Cuerva Lachance. “Not very interesting, but there’s not much information to go on. I know the basic location of the person I’m looking for. I just need proof of identity. It’s a waiting game at the moment. Would anyone like a scone? The grocery store down the street does these tiny little sugar scones with blueberries in.”
“You shouldn’t be talking about the bloody case,” snarled Josiah, who had taken a marble and was rolling it down various inclined planes for no apparent reason. “Especially not with them.”
“Why not us? Are we in it?” asked Mel hopefully.
“Josiah doesn’t like mixing business with neighbours,” said Cuerva Lachance. “I would say ‘mixing business with pleasure,’ but Josiah doesn’t find anything pleasurable. Who beat him up, incidentally?”
“Don’t tell her,” said Josiah.
“Various people,” said Freddy. “I think you should be measuring the slopes and keeping track of how far the marble rolls.”
“I’ve done this before,” said Josiah. “Thousands and thousands of times before. Why can’t science teachers think up some new experiments?”
“Well, why don’t you?” said Freddy. “Ms. Treadwell said you could do whatever you wanted.”
“Make the marble roll uphill,” said Cuerva Lachance. “Do you remember the last time you did that?”
Josiah looked up, his forehead wrinkling into a glower. “You did it.”
“No,” said Cuerva Lachance, “I’m sure it was you.”
“You know perfectly well it couldn’t have been me,” snapped Josiah. “Ducklings, could you distract her, please?”
“Sure.” Mel pulled a small notebook out of her pocket. Freddy recognised it as one Mel sometimes used to keep track of details when she was gaming with Roland and his friends. Mel flipped open the notebook, retrieved a pencil from her other pocket, and began to write. “The Case of the House on Grosvenor Street,” she announced.
“Oh, a case!” said Cuerva Lachance with apparent sincerity. “I like cases. What’s in this one?”
“Two people buy and move into an empty house,” said Mel, scribbling busily. “They claim not to be related—”
“No, they don’t,” said Cuerva Lachance.
“Yes, they do,” said Josiah. “She’s not my mother.”
“That doesn’t mean we’re not related, Josie, dear,” said Cuerva Lachance.
“I refuse to be related to you,” said Josiah.
“They claim not to be mother and son,” amended Mel. “One of them crashes into a tree she thinks is a driveway and is constantly being distracted by shiny objects. She says she’s a private investigator, but mostly, she collects chairs.”
“I do my private investigating privately,” said Cuerva Lachance.
“The other one says he’s rolled thousands of marbles down inclined planes, but he clearly has no idea what the experiment is for.”
“It’s for driving off the ever-encroaching boredom,” said Josiah.
“Subject One has lived in her new house for a week but hasn’t noticed the most interesting room in it. Subject Two knows something about the other people living in the house as well—”