must have read my mind, Annie,” Julien said, using Mrs. Murphy’s given name for the first time. “On a night like this, a good, hearty stew is just the thing!”
She blushed in a most unaccustomed manner. Natalie and Calvin gave each other furtive smiles. They had never seen their old nanny disconcerted by any man. Natalie rummaged in a cupboard and brought four champagne glasses and a bottle of Moët & Chandon to the table.
“Ah, a woman after my own heart,” sighed Julien.
She poured four glasses and handed them round the table. “I propose a toast,” she said. “To Uncle Richard, who we sorely miss, and to Uncle Julien, who we treasure all the more.”
“Hear, hear!” Calvin added added cheerfully.
Two bottles and a few celebratory hours later, the little party shuffled sleepily upstairs.
~
The next morning, Calvin was up at first light, despite consuming prodigious amounts of champagne and staying up till almost two. He had always been an early riser, unlike his sister who often stayed up much too late and slept until noon. Calvin decided not to wake anyone just yet, and crept down the hall in his robe and slippers to Uncle Richard’s old room. The door creaked when he pushed it open, and he stood just inside the room, gazing around sadly. It was still hard for him to believe his uncle was gone from their lives. He was the only father Calvin had ever known. How he’d miss their late night discussions! Uncle Richard was a learned man on a great many subjects but he was particularly fond of history, as was his nephew. He had an especial interest in the history of the Middle East and India, where he had spent a great deal of time in his youth. Julien had always been content to keep residence in Paris, but Richard was an adventurer, and as soon as he came of age, he bought an airline ticket to India, where he remained for two years. How vivid were his descriptions of the jungles found there, especially the Bandipur, which was established as a national park by the Mysore Maharajahs. His uncle well knew his fondness for wild animals, and nurtured in Calvin a love for the earth and all her creatures.
“Thank you, Uncle,” Calvin whispered into the empty room, and shut the door softly.
After showering and dressing in his favorite pair of wooly gray trousers and a warm sweater, he left his room to rouse his sister and uncle.
“Let’s get some food and go,” he urged them in turn. “I’m anxious to see Uncle Richard’s office. I haven’t been there in years.”
After a hearty breakfast, they waved goodbye to Mrs. Murphy and set out. They piled into Natalie’s vintage Triumph, given to her by Uncle Richard on her sixteenth birthday.
Uncle Julien crouched in the front seat and clutched his cane. “I can’t believe you still have this infernal piece of machinery,” he griped, longing for the spaciousness of his Bentley.
“Oh, Uncle! I love this car. It’s a classic! I’ll never get rid of it,” said Natalie with feeling.
“Just as well,” sighed her uncle. “It’s better than those beastly, gas-guzzling American monstrosities, I suppose.”
“Don’t worry, we don’t have far to go,” she said soothingly.
She sped off down the road, which was wet with rain and autumn leaves, and headed for Oxford’s grand old library, twenty minutes away. When they arrived in town, Julien asked her to park on Holywell Street, near the Clarendon Building. “I know Richard’s office is at Radcliffe Camera,” he said, “but I would enjoy a walk.”
“A fine idea,” Calvin agreed, jumping lithely from the backseat to help his uncle emerge from the low-slung car.
As they strolled leisurely down Catte Street, towards the Old Library and Radcliffe Camera, Natalie remarked how unusual it was for Uncle Richard to eschew the Clarendon building as his choice of office. “Wouldn’t it have been more convenient to have an office in the administrative building, rather than on the other side of the Old Library?”
“He had his reasons, I’m sure,” concluded Julien. “but I don’t doubt that his colleagues sometimes wished he was closer at hand.” He told them a little trivia about Catte Street, and all the name changes it had endured over the centuries. “First it was named Kattestreet in the thirteenth century, later becoming Mousecatcher’s Lane, then to Cat Street, Catherine Street, and finally what it’s called today, Catte Street.”
Natalie smiled. “I like Mousecatcher’s Lane best.”
They passed New College Lane and glanced to their left at the Bridge of Sighs. “Such a curious sight to see in England,” Julien noted.
“An unfortunate misnomer,” Calvin said with a derisive snort. “Looks more like the Rialto Bridge to me, but I guess that doesn’t sound as poetic.”
They continued on, past the Divinity School, the Old Library, and finally stopping at Radcliffe Camera. Towering before them was an elegant, circular structure made of stone. There were three levels to the building: the bottom circled with arched niches and the second comprised of windows topped with pediments, with Corinthian columns between.
They stood on the wet pavement for a few moments and gazed with admiration at the old building. “The heart of Oxford,” Calvin mused.
When they climbed the steps to the entrance and opened the door, a young porter greeted them courteously and asked how he might be of assistance.
“We are the family of Richard Romarin,” Uncle Julien told him. “We came to remove his personal effects, as was stipulated in his will.”
The porter’s eyes brightened in recognition, but Natalie thought he looked somewhat tense and discomfited by their sudden arrival. “You are Mr. Romarin’s niece and nephew?” he asked hesitatingly. Calvin said it was so.
“I’ve been expecting you.” He inclined his head slightly towards Julien. “And I presume you are Mr. Romarin’s brother?”
“Julien Romarin,” their uncle said briskly, extending his hand.
The porter shook it, saying, “I’m Seth Conley. I’ve heard good things about you from Mr. Romarin, and I’ve also read a few articles concerning your recent work on The Alchemist forgery. I’m writing a paper about the affair, in point of fact.”
“How very excellent!” Julien said kindly. “I’d be happy to contribute to your endeavor if you wish. That was one of my more complex cases.”
“Would you?” replied the porter in a delighted voice. “I would be honored! But let me show you to Mr. Romarin’s office.” He glanced at Natalie and Calvin once more. “I know I’ve seen both of you before, but not lately, am I correct?”
“It’s been a few years,” Calvin admitted. “Both my sister and I have been out of the country quite a lot lately.”
They followed him into the expansive chamber of the Radcliffe Camera. Covering the entire curved surface of the interior were shelves and shelves of books, with many desks and long tables arranged across the ground floor. It was a quiet morning, with just a handful students and researchers occupying the main room. Seth led them to a graceful, curving staircase and proceeded to the upper gallery, also lined with a profusion of books.
“We’re going to add a lift
