6. Disappearance of The Dagger

“Right,” Brampton said briskly. “Thanks for the background. Fascinating stuff. How did the dagger go missing?”

Stormont’s smile faded. “It’s kept in its box, a very old box made of oak.”

    “What happened to the silver sheath?” Kathy interrupted, and Stormont cocked an eyebrow.     “Sheath? Oh, the one from the lord, yes. I never saw it. If I remember the story right, my great grandfather had it melted down in 1915 to go to the war effort. I suppose the gemstone would have been worth a pretty penny, but the family never considered parting with the dagger. They just wrapped it in velvet and kept it in an old oak box after that.”

He gave a little laugh. “We don’t make a big thing of it, the ceremony, the proposal and pricking of palms. It sounds daft, but with so many traditions biting the dust these days, we like to keep that one going. There’s no harm in it.”

Kathy felt her jaw tighten and slid a side eye to Brampton who ignored her. “When did it actually disappear?” he asked.

Gordon frowned. “Must have been at the charity function. The house was full of strangers last Friday, about 200 of them milling about the house and gardens. Any one of them could have taken it.”

“You mean it was kept out in the open? You don’t lock it up?” Kathy asked in surprise.

He looked uncomfortable. “The box doesn’t lock. The key was lost years ago, and it’s just an old thing, after all, it means nothing to anybody else. We keep it on the sideboard with other family things, treasures and tat together. It’s never been a problem before.”

They were now faced with 200 suspects. Brampton was going to need help.

“Does anyone else know the whole history of the dagger?” Kathy asked.

“Dr. Kenneth Rivers at the University teaches history of the Middle Ages and he’s studied Stormont history for years. I can email him to introduce you if you like.”

Good to his word, he composed the email there and then, copying them both, and Kathy was pleasantly surprised when minutes later Dr. Rivers replied. He would be glad to talk with them and was sure he could help, as he was one of the foremost Canadian experts on the Middle Ages, etc.    Brampton skipped the two paragraphs setting out Rivers’ qualifications and looked to the bottom to see if he had suggested a date. He had not.

They were invited to make an appointment via the Online Student Calendar. He rolled his eyes and glanced sideways at Kathy to see her in mid-eyeroll, too.

They stepped from the dark hallway into bright sunshine and Brampton snapped his fingers. “Dammit! I forgot to look at the portrait.” She smacked his arm, pulled out her phone to check the time, then gave him a quick hug and headed for the street. He watched her walk away. Double damn. I should have asked her out to dinner.

Kathy was wondering as she walked, Why would the Stormont family honour such a stupid tradition? And what could it possibly have to do with Shaye Alderson? They had discovered the victim was a staff writer at Hilton’s Bazaar Magazine, just 26 years old. Why would anyone want to kill her? Could it really have something to do with the Stormonts?