Page 32 of Beatrix

‘What does it say? Can you read it?’

Rob shook his head. ‘No time.’ He plucked the title sheet from the top, then pushed the box towards Billy. ‘Put everything from this box into the satchel.’ Nodding, the boy hurried to grab the satchel. Pulling out the blank paper, began replacing it with the contents of the box. When he couldn’t get any more in, he plonked the satchel on the table and began stuffing the sheets inside his jacket.

Meanwhile, Rob took hold of the sheets of blank paper, smoothed them out as best he could and laid them flat in the box, putting the title sheet on top. ‘With luck, Holt won’t check beyond the title page,’ he murmured, putting the box back where he’d found it.

‘Try the other box,’ Beatrix suggested after a quick glance towards the clock showed her it was nearing one thirty. Soft chimes moments later confirmed it.

Forcing back his sense of urgency, Rob pulled down the only other deed box, laying it down on the desk. Inside were a number of reports of the kind usually associated with Estate management. Quickly sifting through, Rob finally revealed a large wax sealed envelope. Fortunately, it had already been opened.

Drawing it out of the box, he held it towards the light. ‘That looks like the crest we saw with Muriel’s drawing in Bristol,’ Beatrix whispered. ‘The one Ben recognised.’

After giving her a quick questioning glance, Rob lifted the seal and drew out a single, folded document. Opening it, he held it close to the candle, scanning the contents.

‘What’s it say?’ Billy hissed after half a minute had passed.

Rob looked over at them both. ‘It’s a deed of gift. Land in Somerset. Made over eleven years ago to one Giacomo Bianchi, recently declared Baron Cadmore.’

Billy frowned, disappointed. ‘Who the ‘ell’s that?’ he muttered in disgust.

‘Giacomo…’ Beatrix repeated softly. ‘Isn’t.., isn’t that Italian for Jacob?’

Rob’s eyes widened as he nodded slowly. ‘And Bianchi has got to mean White.’

‘I think this is him, Bea,’ Rob said finally, his voice hoarse with something like triumph. ‘I think we might actually have found the real Jacob White.’

‘But it doesn’t give us any clues as to the whereabouts of the auction,’ Bea countered, dampening his euphoria. ‘He’s hardly likely to be housing all the orphans in his country seat.’

With an exasperated sigh, Rob tucked the deed into his pocket, and pressing the seal back down on the envelope, he swiftly replaced it underneath the estate reports before returning the box to the exact same position.

‘There ain’t no more boxes,’ Billy bemoaned. ‘I reckon we might o’ found all we’re goin’ to.’

‘There’s got to be something more,’ Beatrix argued, desperation colouring her voice. ‘Some clue as to where he’s going to hold the auction.’

There was a frustrated silence, finally broken by Billy. ‘Well, he wudden want Tom, Dick or bloomin’ ‘Arry to see the dead important stuff, would ‘e?’ Pulling out the sheets of paper he’d stuffed into his jacket and handing them to Rob, the boy stepped towards the shelves and got down on his hands and knees, putting his head to the floor. After a few seconds he muttered, ‘There’s nowt ‘ere but spid… Hang on, wot’s that?’ He dropped down to his belly and slithered underneath the lowest shelf.

‘Have you found something?’ Rob asked, laying the creased-up sheets of paper on the table and crouching down behind him.

For a moment there was no answer, but then a muffled ‘Pull me back,’ came from the depths. Climbing swiftly to his feet, Rob took hold of the boy’s legs and carefully pulled him backwards. Seconds later, Billy triumphantly held a small ledger in the air. ‘Stuck right at the back in the corner,’ he crowed, handing it to Beatrix while Rob pulled him to his feet.

Pulling one of the candles towards her, Bea laid the book on the table. At the top, written in capital letters, were the words FOR THE GRANGE. Heart thudding, she opened the first page. It was a list of names and next to each name was a short description detailing approximate age, hair colour, height and eye colour.

As Rob came up beside her, she slid it towards him. Flicking through the pages he shook his head in disbelief. ‘There could be more than fifty names listed in here.’ He began counting in earnest.

‘Could they be the children they’ve earmarked for the auction?’ Beatrix breathed.

Rob frowned, pausing his counting. ‘Have you heard of The Grange?’ he asked. ‘Any idea where it is?’ Bea shook her head.

‘Dare we take this with us?’ she said instead.

‘E’ll know we’re on to ‘em fer sure if we do,’ Billy interrupted matter-of-factly. ‘This wos too well ‘idden.’

Rob nodded reluctantly. ‘And if we so much as tear out a page, it’ll be glaringly obvious.’ He went back to counting names, fighting the temptation to throw the ledger across the room.

Sensing his anguish, Bea laid a hand on his arm. ‘Is Tom’s name there? she asked gently.

He didn’t answer for nearly a whole minute, then a deep intake of breath told her he’d found it. He’d found his godson’s name in a list of children possibly destined to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.

It was Billy, closest to the study door, who heard the sudden noise.