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Chapter 7
Dawn was coming up on a foggy London Town by the time Harriet and Agatha got back to 24 Harrington Square. They had spent an hour giving Inspector Cosgrove a full statement of their night activities surrounding the discovery of Thomas Carter in Room 61 at the British Museum.
It would be another two hours before Harriet’s maid, Sarah, started her daily chores. So, Harriet went into the kitchen to make them both some tea, while Agatha scavenged around in the pantry to see what was left-over to eat.
Harriet was keen to get back to her blackboard in the basement to check her calculations. Agatha on the other hand desperately wanted a notebook and pencil so she could start taking notes before her memory began to fail her. Top of her list, was the unusual appearance of the body with all his pockets turned out. The second was the small lump Agatha found on the back of the hand.
Harriet poured herself and Agatha some tea. Then with a lump of cheese in her mouth picked up a stick of chalk and together with her blackboard duster, began mumbling away to herself, erasing equations then writing them back in again.
Agatha was sat in one of the wing-tipped red leather chairs, thinking all the while of what she saw of Thomas Carter, when suddenly Harriet announced, “I know why the vortex collapsed!”
“Sorry.” said Agatha, shaken from her thoughts.
“You made it sick!” proclaimed Harriet.
“I made what sick?” Agatha asked, now realising that she should be paying attention.
“The vortex, you made it sick!”
Agatha just shook her head, giving Harriet that ‘I have no idea what you are talking about’ look.
Harriet flopped into a spare identical red leather chair next to Agatha. Tearing off a piece of stale cottage loaf and pointing at the blackboard with another piece of cheese, she began to explain.
“The 1926-time vortex can only accept something from that time. But, what I forgot to understand was that the clothes you were wearing, my clothes from 1895, do not exist in your time.”
“But the future is full of things from the past.” said Agatha.
“Well, obviously those set of clothes of mine you are wearing are no longer around in 1926.” To illustrate her point further, Harriet then started to wave around in front of them her piece of cheese.
“Look at this!” she said. “The components that make up this piece of cheese agrees with my stomach, now if I let some bacteria fall upon it before eating it. When it lands in my stomach, I will be sick, rejecting the foreign body.
“So, next time,” began Agatha. “I have to be wearing my own clothes.”
“Correct!” answered Harriet.
“And do you know when the text time will be?” Agatha asked.
Harriet stretched out and reached across to fetch her green leather-bound book from her workbench. She then thumbed her way to the middle of the book.
“According to Galileo's predictions, ten days from now, 11:59 in the Tower of London!”
“Good!” said Agatha. “That means we have ten days to solve this murder.”
“We!” exclaimed Harriet. “You promised Inspector Cosgrove not to interfere in police matters.”
“And I shall leave well alone any police investigations. But I didn’t promise him I wouldn’t be doing my own investigation.”
Harriet gave Agatha a wicked smile, “You’re naughty. Were you telling me the truth when you said you were a writer?”
“I’m a crime writer Harriet, next best thing to being a police Inspector. Now tell me all you know about Thomas Carter.”
To be continued...
© Alice White
It would be another two hours before Harriet’s maid, Sarah, started her daily chores. So, Harriet went into the kitchen to make them both some tea, while Agatha scavenged around in the pantry to see what was left-over to eat.
Harriet was keen to get back to her blackboard in the basement to check her calculations. Agatha on the other hand desperately wanted a notebook and pencil so she could start taking notes before her memory began to fail her. Top of her list, was the unusual appearance of the body with all his pockets turned out. The second was the small lump Agatha found on the back of the hand.
Harriet poured herself and Agatha some tea. Then with a lump of cheese in her mouth picked up a stick of chalk and together with her blackboard duster, began mumbling away to herself, erasing equations then writing them back in again.
Agatha was sat in one of the wing-tipped red leather chairs, thinking all the while of what she saw of Thomas Carter, when suddenly Harriet announced, “I know why the vortex collapsed!”
“Sorry.” said Agatha, shaken from her thoughts.
“You made it sick!” proclaimed Harriet.
“I made what sick?” Agatha asked, now realising that she should be paying attention.
“The vortex, you made it sick!”
Agatha just shook her head, giving Harriet that ‘I have no idea what you are talking about’ look.
Harriet flopped into a spare identical red leather chair next to Agatha. Tearing off a piece of stale cottage loaf and pointing at the blackboard with another piece of cheese, she began to explain.
“The 1926-time vortex can only accept something from that time. But, what I forgot to understand was that the clothes you were wearing, my clothes from 1895, do not exist in your time.”
“But the future is full of things from the past.” said Agatha.
“Well, obviously those set of clothes of mine you are wearing are no longer around in 1926.” To illustrate her point further, Harriet then started to wave around in front of them her piece of cheese.
“Look at this!” she said. “The components that make up this piece of cheese agrees with my stomach, now if I let some bacteria fall upon it before eating it. When it lands in my stomach, I will be sick, rejecting the foreign body.
“So, next time,” began Agatha. “I have to be wearing my own clothes.”
“Correct!” answered Harriet.
“And do you know when the text time will be?” Agatha asked.
Harriet stretched out and reached across to fetch her green leather-bound book from her workbench. She then thumbed her way to the middle of the book.
“According to Galileo's predictions, ten days from now, 11:59 in the Tower of London!”
“Good!” said Agatha. “That means we have ten days to solve this murder.”
“We!” exclaimed Harriet. “You promised Inspector Cosgrove not to interfere in police matters.”
“And I shall leave well alone any police investigations. But I didn’t promise him I wouldn’t be doing my own investigation.”
Harriet gave Agatha a wicked smile, “You’re naughty. Were you telling me the truth when you said you were a writer?”
“I’m a crime writer Harriet, next best thing to being a police Inspector. Now tell me all you know about Thomas Carter.”
To be continued...
© Alice White
