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Authors: Tracy Barrett

BOOK: The Missing Heir
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A voice behind them said, “They do it only at night, so as not to mess up traffic too badly.” They turned, and the hotel doorman said, “Why, it's the Holmes kids!”
It was their old friend, a member of the SPFD who had worked as the doorman at the hotel where they stayed when they first moved to London. They chatted for a few minutes, and found out that he now worked at the Hotel Bertrand.
“So what are you two doing here? Working on a case?”
“We were hoping to speak with the prime minister from Borogovia,” Xander told him. “The princess who disappeared is a friend of ours.”
The doorman shook his head. “The prime minister isn't here. You just missed him. He came back for a nap and went out again only a few minutes ago. Last night, he reported another attempted burglary in his room. Security didn't find anything, but it disturbed his sleep. The construction is annoying him too. The front desk warned him about it when he checked in, but evidently he didn't realize how serious it was. Look at how much work they're doing!”
He gestured to a drawing on the chain-link fence over a hole in the ground. The architect's rendition showed a complex mass of lines and squiggles. Xander stared at it, and Xena asked,
“Couldn't he tell for himself how much work they were doing?”
“No, I told you, the construction only goes on at night. The prime minister was here hours before it started, and then the rain delayed it even more. They didn't get going until the wee, small hours.”
Xander objected, “But he checked in—” He was about to blurt out “at night” when Xena dug her elbow in his ribs. She didn't want their friend to get in trouble for revealing so much about a guest. They hurriedly said good-bye, promised to send his regards to their parents, and withdrew into the park across the street for a quick consultation.
“So the prime minister arrived in the afternoon, not at night! He
was
here when Alice disappeared. Why would he lie about—” Xena stopped. Xander had that absorbed look on his face again, so she waited.
She didn't have to wait long. “Something's been bugging me ever since we saw those papers from the SPFD,” he said. “I couldn't figure out what it was, but I think it was something about the blueprints for the addition to the Borogovian mansion. I didn't read all of them, and they were
pretty complicated. Let's go back to the SPFD and look at them.”
It took them only a few minutes on the Tube. Even that seemed long, and they ran up the escalator to the street, saying “Excuse me, excuse me” as they brushed past commuters and tourists. They slowed down as they entered the pub, not wanting to draw attention to themselves, then crawled through the hidden door and burst into the SPFD headquarters.
“No time to explain,” Xander said to Mr. Brown. “Can we see those Borogovian papers again?”
Mr. Brown pointed at the box, still sitting on the table. Xander pulled out paper after paper and lined up the blueprints, one next to the other. “What are you—” Mr. Brown started, but Xena put her finger on her lips.
What seemed like a long time went by while Xander moved the papers around. He put one drawing over another and held them up to the light, measuring things with his thumb. Finally, he looked up and beamed. “Got it!”
G
ot it? Got
what
?” Xena felt ready to explode.
“Look at this.” Xander put a finger of his right hand on one blueprint and a finger of his left hand on another one.
Xena looked. “I don't see it. What exactly are you trying to show me?”
“There's a space that's unaccounted for in these drawings that the architects made, the ones who built this addition for Queen Charlotte. See? This wall”—he pointed to a solid line at the left-hand edge of one piece of paper—“is supposed to be the same wall as this one.” He ran his finger along the right-hand side of another sheet. “But if you add up the measurements of how long all the walls are, they're not the same. There's a gap, about ten feet. It could be nothing—a mistake in the drawings, an error where the architects left a blank space, even
something to support the addition, but I don't think so. I think it's a—”
“A hidden room!” Xena finished for him.
Mr. Brown didn't wait for an explanation. In a flash he was on the phone, calling the police. “Meet us at the Borogovian mansion. I'll explain once we're there. And be sure to come with a search warrant.” He turned to Xena and Xander. “Out you go. My car is around the corner.”
They had just fastened their seat belts when Mr. Brown punched a button on his dashboard and a siren started wailing. “There's a light flashing on the roof too,” he said.
Traffic parted in front of them as they sped through the streets and pulled up in front of the Borogovian mansion. They leaped out onto the sidewalk, where four police officers were waiting for them. One was the man who had ignored the evidence of the handwriting and the text message, and he was as red as the light flashing on Mr. Brown's car. Another man, evidently his superior, was saying in an incredulous tone, “And on your own authority, you ignored it? Don't you know who these kids are? If they say they have information, you can wager that they do! You're relieved of duty as soon as we finish
up here, pending an investigation into your actions.” Xena knew she should feel sorry for the man, but she couldn't help feeling a bit smug too.
They stood in front of the big iron gate, and once again a cold voice demanded to know who they were. “Metropolitan Police,” barked the police officer who appeared to be in charge. “I'm Inspector Sayers.” He held the search warrant up to the camera, and the gate swung open.
“This way!” Xander ran ahead of the police. A servant opened the door and stood back as first Xander, then Xena, and then the police and Mr. Brown ran in.
They tore down one corridor after another. Xena, as always, marveled that Xander remembered exactly which way to go.
Xander threw open a door and revealed Alice's aunt Penelope with the Borogovian prime minister sitting in front of a fireplace. Both stood up, Aunt Penelope with her hand to her throat.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” she demanded, addressing the adults as though Xena and Xander were of no consequence.
Xena stepped forward. “We think you kidnapped Alice. We also think that she's somewhere here, in this mansion.”
“Why on earth would I kidnap my own niece? It wouldn't even be kidnapping; I'm her legal guardian and she's underage!”
“There's such a thing as false imprisonment,” the inspector said grimly. “We are going to search the premises again.” He dispatched the three officers in different directions. Occasionally Xena and Xander heard a deep voice calling, “Princess Alice! Your Highness! It's the police!”
Xander approached the prime minister. “I'd like to ask you a few questions, sir.”
“Of course, of course. Anything that we can do. Although I don't know any more than you do. I arrived in London after Her Highness had disappeared.”
“Er—” Xena didn't want to tell him to his face that he was lying, but she knew he was. She looked at Xander.
“Sir,” he began, “are you sure of when you arrived? Because”—he had to speak hastily before the prime minister could get a word in—“because someone told us that you got in a little earlier than that.”
“Who told you that?” the inspector asked.
“A friend,” Xena said, hoping he wouldn't
ask any more than that. Luckily, the prime minister answered.
“Your friend is right.” The prime minister sat down heavily. He took a large handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face with it. “I did get in earlier on Saturday, but I had nothing to do with Princess Alice's disappearance. Please believe me.”
“How do we know that?” Inspector Sayers asked.
The prime minister pulled a wad of paper out of another pocket. “Here are receipts for the restaurants I went to that night. I adore English food, and I knew that once I became caught up in preparations for the coronation, I would be too busy to indulge this passion. The steak and kidney pie! Bubble and squeak!”
“Muffins!” Xander couldn't help adding. Xena glowered at him.
“If you check the time stamped on the receipts,” the prime minister went on, “I think you'll see that I couldn't have been involved in this ghastly occurrence.”
One by one, the three policemen returned. Before they even spoke, their disappointed faces revealed that their search had been unsuccessful.
“Nothing, sir,” one of them told Mr. Brown.
“Exactly as I said!” Aunt Penelope trumpeted.
Inspector Sayers began, “I'm afraid—”
“May I take a look?” Xander interrupted him.
The inspector glanced at Mr. Brown. He nodded. The prime minister said, “Of course you may. No harm in it, is there?” he asked Aunt Penelope, who pinched her lips together for a moment and then nodded ungraciously.
Xena followed her brother up the stairs. He didn't need to tell her what he was doing. Obviously, he was looking for the place where he had found the mysterious gap in the architectural drawings. Close behind her came the inspector and Mr. Brown. She remembered that Alice's interrupted text message mentioned being taken “up.” But up where?
Xander didn't stop at the second floor but kept on until he was at the landing between the second and third floors. The wall was covered by a large scene of the countryside, with picturesque shepherdesses, birds, flowers, a small hut. It was one of those
trompe l'œil
paintings, like the ones Miss Jenny had shown them on their first visit, and in the dim light of the stairway,
Xena could have sworn that she was really looking at a sunny afternoon in the country.
Xander ran his hands over the painting. Alice's aunt Penelope shouted, “Stop! You'll dirty it!” Xander ignored her and worked his fingers around a crack.
The “hut” was really a door in the wall! Xander knocked on it and shouted, “Alice! Alice! Are you in there?” Xena thought she heard a faint voice.
Mr. Brown stepped up. “Will you show us how to open this, madam, or will we have to break it down?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about!” Aunt Penelope said, so a large policeman slammed his shoulder into the door three times. It burst open.
S
tanding on a chair under a skylight was Alice.
Gemma wriggled through the crowd of policemen and ran to her friend. Alice jumped down from the chair, and the two girls hugged for a long time.
Miss Jenny hurried in. “Are you all right?” she asked Alice, who nodded and then burst into tears. Miss Jenny led the two girls out into the corridor. The police crowded around them until Miss Jenny said, “Leave her alone! First let me get a cup of tea into her, and then you can ask all the questions you want.”
“It's all right,” Alice said, with more firmness than Xena and Xander had ever heard from her. “I want to tell you now.”
Xander saw that the police inspector had quietly moved down a step or two and was
standing below both Jasper and Alice's aunt, blocking their exit.
“What were you doing on that chair?” Gemma asked.
“Trying to get out.” Alice turned to her aunt. “I didn't believe you when you said you were hiding me for my own safety. I knew that could not be true. But what did you want?” she demanded. “You told me that you had to hide me because there was a threat on my life and we had to hurry the coronation before anyone found out where I was. But I
knew
you were lying!”
“Is that why you sent me that text?” Xander asked.
Alice's eyes were still blazing, and she made an obvious effort to control herself. “Yes. I heard them coming and pressed SEND before I could finish, and he”—pointing at Jasper—“took the phone.”
“I was looking out for your best interests,” her aunt said. “I knew that you were being exposed to all sorts of influences.” She looked pointedly at Miss Jenny, who glared back at her. “I was going to take you to Borogovia last Saturday evening, so that you could prepare for
the coronation in peace, without silly people trying to convince you that Borogovia would be better off independent.”
“But you didn't know there would be a transit strike!” Xander said. “Then you were stuck! Even when the strike ended, you couldn't get out of the country because by then word had gotten out that Alice was missing.”
“So you panicked.” Xena picked up the tale. “You were in a hurry to get her away from us before she could figure out what those letters meant.”
“Letters?” The police inspector looked baffled, but Aunt Penelope's expression told Xena that she was on the right track, and she pressed on before the woman could regain her composure.
“The only thing you could think of was to say she had run away, so you wrote that note supposedly from her.”
“What note?” Alice asked. “I didn't write a note! How
could
you, Aunt Penelope?”
“And then,” Xander went on, “you were going to crown her here and try to convince her to support Rathonia taking over poor little Borogovia!”
“How did you plan to crown her?” the prime
minister asked, “given that I'm the one who always carries the crown?”
“The break-ins at the hotel!” Xena and Xander exclaimed together.
Xander caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. “It's Jasper—he's getting away!”
The bodyguard had taken advantage of the inspector's distraction to slip past him and was now running down the stairs. He was dangerously fast, and all the officers were crowded around the room where Alice had been hidden. They bumped into one another trying to get down the stairs, each slowing the others down. Jasper was getting away!
Xena vaulted over the banister and landed on the second floor, where the stairs turned. She crouched right in Jasper's path, and before he could stop, he tripped over her and went sprawling at full length. He sprang up, but not quickly enough. The policeman who had ignored Xena and Xander's clues tackled him and held him still while one of his colleagues handcuffed him and hauled him to his feet.
“It's not my fault!” The bodyguard narrowed his eyes and pointed an accusing finger at Alice's aunt. “She's the one who thought of it!”
“You tried to steal the crown from the prime minister, didn't you? And you stole the birth certificate?” Xena asked. The shame on Jasper's face gave away his guilt.
“I don't believe that you were acting purely out of obedience to orders,” the prime minister said. “Come on, tell us the rest.”
“She said”—once again indicating Aunt Penelope—“that when she got paid by the Rathonian government, she would reward me.”
“You were in the pay of Rathonia?” Gemma was on her feet. “Why, you're a traitor!”
“Arrest them!” the prime minister said.
“There's more!” Xander said. Quickly, he and Xena explained what they found in the archives, and that they suspected that in Sherlock's time Princess Stella had been swapped with the nanny's daughter, Josephine Blunt.
Alice's mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut. “That's what those letters must have been about,” she said.
The prime minister looked as though he couldn't take in one more fact, but he asked faintly, “Letters? What letters?”
Alice explained. The silence that followed was broken by her aunt.
“She's imagining that!” Aunt Penelope snapped. “The girl lives in a fantasy world! She did find some old papers, that's true, but they had nothing to do with her. Mere scribblings. I took them away and burned them. They were old and moldy, and I didn't want them to make her sick.”
“You burned them?” The prime minister was aghast. “Documents from our nation's history?”
“Enough of this,” Aunt Penelope said. “I'm still the girl's guardian, and she is the daughter of the king and queen of Borogovia. Nobody will believe that nonsense about another baby being substituted for Princess Stella, or that I was in the pay of a foreign government. Now that travel is possible, we will immediately go to Borogovia, where Alice will be crowned and she will take up her duties under my direction.”
Xander's phone buzzed. He answered it and listened for a moment, then asked, “Can I put you on speaker?” He pressed some buttons and said, “It's Andrew Watson from the Society for the Preservation of Famous Detectives. He has results of a DNA test on Alice and Gemma.”
Miss Jenny shot her daughter a puzzled look. Gemma looked clueless, but something serious in Xander's voice made everyone fall
silent. He held up his phone so that they all could hear.
“The results are only preliminary,” Andrew said. “They'll have to be confirmed by a lengthier process, but there doesn't appear to be much doubt.”
“What did they find out?” Xander asked. “Come
on
, Andrew!”
“Independent laboratory results show that Subject B, not Subject A, is a member of the royal family of Borogovia.”
“Who's Subject A?” Xena asked.
“Alice Banders.” There was a gasp from Alice's aunt, and she started to say something, but the prime minister glared at her and she shut her mouth.
“And Subject B is … ?” Xander asked.
“Subject B is identified as Gemma Giles.”
“Wait a second!” Miss Jenny said. “Does this mean—” She looked from Gemma to Alice and back again.
Gemma finished it for her. “It means that
you're
the heir to the throne of Borogovia, not Alice! And
I'm
the princess!”
A policeman holding handcuffs approached Aunt Penelope.
“Oh, please don't,” Alice begged. “Can't you just let her go?”
“Sorry,” Mr. Brown said as the police inspector led Penelope out. “What she did was a serious crime, and she has to be punished.”

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