Free The Murders of Richard III by Elizabeth Peters Page A

absentminded?”
    â€œQuite the reverse; most methodical young fellow I know.” Weldon looked worried. “It’s foolish—a healthy specimen like that, nothing could have happened, but perhaps we had better…”
    â€œQuite right,” Kent said briskly. “Let’s hunt him out. You ladies stay here, we’ll soon find him.”
    Lady Isobel didn’t look capable of movement, and Mrs. Ponsonby-Jones inclined her head in majestic acquiescence, but Jacqueline was already on her feet, and Liz followed suit. In a disorganized group they trailed one another up the stairs.
    The most logical assumption was that Frank had fallen asleep. In fact, Thomas thought with a small shock, there was no other logical assumption. If an emergency had kept the young lawyer from the meeting, he would have sent a message.
    Percy was the first to reach Frank’s room, not because he was more nimble, but because the otherstended to hang back. The fat boy flung the door open, and as Weldon came forward, he announced with the relish some people feel at proclaiming bad news, “He’s not here. Unless he’s under the bed.”
    He was not under the bed. Feeling like a fool, but driven by an inexplicable compulsion, Thomas looked.
    For a few moments they stood staring at one another. Then Kent said brusquely, “Ridiculous. Organization, that’s what we need. Ring for Wilkes, Dick. Perhaps one of the servants has seen the lad.”
    None of the servants had, not since the whole group had gone upstairs after dinner. This was not surprising, since the staff had been at its own dinner in the servants’ hall; but the news cast a pall over the group. Percy’s was the only cheerful face.
    â€œAll right,” Kent said, after the butler had gone back to his duties. “Let’s keep the servants out of this; it’s bound to be a tempest in a teapot. I’m going out to inquire of the outdoor staff. Perhaps Frank went for a walk and dozed off. Dick, look in the library, lounge, drawing room. Philip…”
    â€œWe’ll investigate the bedrooms,” said Philip, taking Liz’s hand.
    â€œBut what would he—” Liz stopped. The enameled facade of her face was beginning to crack.
    â€œHe might have fainted,” Thomas said. “He looks healthy enough, but I suppose he might have a heart condition, or epilepsy, or something…”
    â€œNo,” Liz said positively.
    Weldon gave her an odd look and then said firmly, “We are becoming fanatical. I feel sure there is some unalarming explanation.”
    They separated. Kent, moving briskly, was soon out of sight. The doctor and the rector followed. Weldon gave the others a hesitant smile before heading for the stairs. O’Hagan trailed after him. Percy followed Philip and Liz along the corridor; he had, Thomas thought, a propensity for bedrooms. That left Thomas and Jacqueline, and when they were alone Thomas turned toward her.
    â€œYou’ve been very quiet. What are you thinking?”
    Jacqueline didn’t answer immediately. She reached into her bag and took out her glasses. The purse was a good deal larger than it looked, as was characteristic of Jacqueline’s purses. Settling the glasses firmly on her nose, Jacqueline said, “I think something is wrong. I’ve thought so eversince we arrived. If I were psychic, I’d roll my eyes and mumble about auras. Thomas, it is almost nine o’clock. Can you think of any reason why that young man should not be where he is supposed to be?”
    â€œNone that convinces me.”
    â€œNor I. Let’s go look for him.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œWe’ll check the Hall first; he may have appeared in the meantime. If not—I suppose this place has a cellar?”
    â€œIt has a cellar the size of Mammoth Cave. Why do you suppose—”
    â€œI don’t suppose anything. But all the other parts of the house