We heard drawers being pulled open and slammed shut.

“They’re in his study,” I whispered.

“Let’s go,” Arthur said.

We walked up the sweeping spiral staircase, our wet shoes squeaking on the polished wood.

The door to Garrett’s study was wide open at the end of the hall.

Inside, books had been pulled from the shelves, lying in crumpled heaps on the Persian rug.

Charles was on his knees in front of the desk, pulling out the bottom drawers.

Victoria was standing by the fireplace, her hands running along the wooden mantle.

“Where is it, Charles?” she demanded, ignoring our presence entirely.

“I don’t know!” Charles shouted, his face red with exertion.

“He must have put it in the safe,” Victoria said.

“The safe is empty,” Charles said. “I checked it three times.”

“Then check it again!” she screamed.

I stepped into the room, Arthur right behind me.

“You are destroying his things,” I said.

Victoria spun around, her face twisted with rage.

“Get out of here, Eleanor,” she said.

“I have a court order to be here,” I said.