The Ravensworth Affair

By Bailie Lawson

In this third book of the Lia Bracken series, Lia is shocked to find the eighth century Breton manuscript she has been translating gone from its locked glass case at the Ravensworth Museum. As she investigates, she uncovers a web of suspects, including Mathilda's new boyfriend, the museum employees, and even the head of the board of directors. But as Lia delves deeper into the mystery, she realizes that someone may have a more sinister motive for taking the missing manuscript. Can she trust anyone at the museum, and can she solve the case in time to save her research and qualify for a prestigious fellowship? Or will the treacherous forces at play destroy everything she has worked for?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bailie Lawson
• Release date: Jan 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215479957

Bailie Lawson

Bailie Lawson has always been interested in stories, both listening to them and telling them. She was born and went to school in Ireland and as an adult has lived in New York and the North-Eastern United States. She has worked as a psychotherapist and professor of psychology. She is the author of several novels including Well-Travelled Ancient Ancient Artifacts, Finding Juniper, Fanfare, The Imaginary Husband, Pixie Dust: Enchantment and It’s Consequences, Uncovering Julien's Past, Una's Journey, and Who Is Gigi?

Book preview

Chapter 1

Lia couldn't have known that this Monday morning at the Ravensworth Museum would be anything but ordinary. She arrived at the usual time, her steps echoing off the marble floor as she made her way inside. She was comforted by the familiar calm and routine of the museum, looking forward to another productive day of translating the ancient and fragile manuscript. But little did Lia know, the calm and routine she had come to expect was about to be shattered in the most unexpected of ways.

As she walked through the hallway, Lia noticed Rachel, the new assistant to the curator, looking frazzled and preoccupied at the front desk. Lia figured that Rachel was probably still getting used to her new position, and she empathized. Lia knew what that felt like. With only one semester of full-time teaching completed at Quincy University, Lia was very much a novice herself.

Now Rachel looked up uncertainly as she strode quickly up to the desk.

I’m here to work on the Breton manuscript, Lia reminded her.

Rachel had been working here at least a month, but she never remembered who Lia was or why she was here. Lia didn’t feel slighted. After all, she only came on Mondays, and doubtless the other days were busy at the Ravensworth with many people traipsing through this now empty hall. So, every week Lia announced herself to Rachel in the same way.

Now she asked, is Rupert back there? as she inclined her head to the left, toward the inner office.

Yes, he’s there. Good morning, Dr. Bracken.

Oh, call me Lia please, Lia said, pleased that Rachel remembered her name, and very pleased to be addressed as doctor. Her Ph.D. was less than a year old and she hadn’t quite got used to the title.

Rupert appeared then, looking dapper as usual in a dark navy suit and a blue striped shirt, his honey-blond hair styled expertly, a strand dipping artistically over one eye. He looked polished, but tense. Or maybe he was tired. One time at lunch, he had told Lia that he was not a morning person.

Lia wasn’t sure if she was a morning person herself. It was irrelevant since she had no choice these days and she liked to get here early on Mondays. It was the only day she had access to the manuscript. She was highly motivated to complete her translation. She was over three-quarters of the way through, but the last pages she read were proving more challenging than usual.

Lia had always been fascinated by ancient manuscripts, and when she was offered the opportunity to work on translating a manuscript that dated back to the eighth century, she jumped at the chance. As she delved deeper into the translation, however, she began to suspect that the manuscript might be even older than the Leyden Manuscript, the oldest surviving manuscript in the Breton language. If she was right, it would be a major discovery, and Lia was eager to confirm her suspicions.

But she knew that her opinion as a relatively new Ph.D., would be met with skepticism by experts in the field. She was determined to be thorough and to double-check her work before she published anything. She had carefully started at the beginning of the manuscript, taking care not to jump ahead or damage the fragile pages.

At the end of each day, Lia left the manuscript open to the page where she had stopped, and Alana, the assistant curator of the old manuscript division, placed it in a glass cabinet, which was locked until Lia returned the following Monday to continue her work.

Rupert, the new temporary curator, was the one who held the key to the cabinet, and it was he who escorted Lia down the narrow hallway to the small room at the end of the corridor where the manuscript was housed. There, Lia spent her Mondays at the desk in the corner, eagerly working to uncover the secrets hidden within the ancient text.

Today they chatted casually and confirmed that they would have lunch together as usual. Lunch on Mondays had become a habit over the past months.

How is everything? Lia asked.

Nothing is resolved. I’m still worried. I’ll tell you at lunchtime, Rupert replied.

Again, Lia noticed the tension in his face, but he obviously didn’t want to say more right now.

They entered the little room. Lia looked expectantly towards the glass case that held the manuscript. Then she stopped suddenly, causing Rupert to collide with her.

Where is it? It’s not there! she said, bewildered.

She looked at the other shelves. Had someone moved it? Put it back in the wrong case?

Rupert was standing now, a shocked expression on his face, staring at the empty shelf behind the locked glass door. Only it wasn’t locked. Lia could see that the door was not quite closed all the way.

Chapter 2

Are you allowing someone else to read it? Lia asked in disappointment and some confusion.

After all, this was her research project. No one else should have access to it. That had been the arrangement.

No. No one else has permission to remove it. And Alana and I are the only ones with authority to open that case, Rupert said sharply. Whoever removed it will be in big trouble.

He had started walking back to the main desk. Let’s see what Rachel knows.

Rachel, however, knew nothing. She stared blankly at Rupert and shook her head.

The key is in your possession, isn’t it? Wouldn’t someone have to ask you if they wanted access? Lia asked Rupert.

Yes, that is true, but my office is not locked. Anyone could have walked in and taken the key.

Rupert hurried into his office, followed by Lia. He opened the door to a small wooden cabinet set into the wall at eye level. The door opened easily. It was not locked. Rupert reached in and produced a key.

Here it is, he said with obvious relief.

You didn’t have it when we went to the manuscript room, Lia said, looking at Rupert with a puzzled frown.

I forgot to bring it. I was distracted this morning. There is so much on my mind, and now this.

Lia saw there were several keys hanging on hooks inside the cabinet, presumably for other rare manuscripts. She wondered why the cabinet wasn’t locked. Had Rupert forgotten to lock it, or was it usually left open? Had Rupert’s predecessor kept it locked? She couldn’t remember. She had usually waited in the hallway while Alana fetched the key. Then Alana would come to lock it up when Lia was finished for the day. She still did, but she had asked to work part-time temporarily, so was no longer here in the mornings. Rupert was the one who had recently been opening the glass case for Lia.

Rupert was her friend, and she didn’t want to believe he was careless, but why go to the trouble of locking a display and then allow the keys to be easily accessible to everyone–well, at least to all museum employees?

Rupert answered, as if he had read her thoughts. My office is off limits to the public, so only people who work here would have come in and they would have to check with Rachel first.

He returned to the desk outside, where Rachel was sitting, looking scared. Think, Rachel, he said. Did anyone go into my office while I wasn’t there?

Rachel was shaking her head. You weren’t here yesterday, she reminded him, and your office was locked then. No one asked about you. We were busy here, though.

Who uses the little room where the manuscript is kept? Lia asked. It is always empty on Mondays except for me. Does anyone else use it on other days?

Rachel consulted a page on her computer. Yes, it is used on Wednesdays and Thursdays by Clay Leahy, she said.

He is an antiquarian, Rupert explained. He works here part time, cataloging some of our oldest acquisitions. Maybe he moved it. Yes, I’ll call him now.

Rupert, looking more hopeful, strode quickly back to his office.

Lia stood uncertainly at Rachel’s desk. It was hidden behind a high arced counter which allowed space on either side to walk back and enter Rupert’s office. Anyone entering Rupert’s office would have to walk past Rachel first. She would see the person–if she was at her desk and if she wasn’t too distracted, that is.

Lia wondered now if anyone at the museum could be sure when the book had disappeared. She knew it had been here last Monday, but that was a week ago.

She tried to remember what had happened last week when she had last seen it, but she remembered nothing unusual. Alana had come into the little room where she was, as usual, engrossed in her work to let her know she would need to stop in a few minutes. Lia had carefully noted the page she was on, made some other notes to remind herself of the research she wanted to do before she came back next week, carefully removed the white gloves she wore to protect the fragile pages, and waited for Alana’s return. She never left the manuscript unattended except at lunchtime when Rupert locked the door of the little room where she worked.

Yes, last week Alana had come back to lock up the manuscript. Alana was putting the manuscript back in its case when Lia left. Lia hadn’t seen her lock it up, but why would Alana not lock it up as she had done every week for the past year? And the key was now in the cabinet in Rupert’s office, in its usual place, according to Rupert.

She knew Alana came to work later on Mondays and that she wouldn’t be here now.

Alana might know something, she said as Rupert emerged from his office.

I already called her. She hasn’t seen it since last Monday when she locked it away after your visit. And Clay can’t be sure, but believes it was in its usual place when he worked in that room on Thursday.

That helps a little, Lia said, sounding more hopeful than she felt. Someone took it between late Thursday and today.

The busiest days for the Museum, Rupert sighed. The weekend is when we have more visitors.

They both looked at Rachel.

Rupert said, Rachel, you were here Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Can you recall anyone going into my office on those days, especially Sunday, when I wasn’t here?

Rachel, looking more worried than usual, shook her head. I would always stop anyone who tried to go back there. I would say you weren’t there. Of course, I wouldn’t tell Mr. Grantham to not go back there.

Clifford Grantham was the biggest benefactor to the museum and the head of the Ravensworth board of directors, easily the most influential member of the board, and not accustomed to being refused access to anything at the museum.

Mr. Grantham was here on Saturday. He wanted to leave something on your desk, so I didn’t stop him from going into your office.

Rupert frowned. I didn’t know he was coming. I wasn’t in my office. We can rule Grantham out, anyway.

How long was he in the office? Lia asked.

Oh, just a minute or so. I said I could contact Rupert, that he was in the building, but Mr. Grantham said it wasn’t necessary and that someone was waiting for him.

Was there? Someone with him, I mean? Lia asked.

There was a man hovering around and when Mr. Grantham came back, he walked over and talked to him.

Did you notice where they went then? Did they leave?

No. They walked in that direction. Rachel pointed towards the hallway leading to the little room where Lia usually worked–the room that had contained the Breton manuscript.

Rupert asked sharply, did they walk down that corridor?

I’m not sure, Rachel answered. Someone came to the desk asking me a question just then. I only know they walked in that direction.

Lia and Rupert looked towards the little hallway. There are other rooms, Rupert said, and there is the passageway to the Asian Wing right there. Rupert gestured to an arch at right angles to the hallway which led to the Asian Wing. They might have been headed there. In fact, they probably were going in that direction. Why would Grantham want to go into any of the small rooms in that hallway? They are for staff only.

They also house rare books not available for view by the public, Lia asserted. It is possible he wanted to show his guest one of them.

But why the Breton manuscript? she wondered privately. Its existence was not generally known, though the Ravensworth knew it was rare and valuable. That is why it was under lock and key. How knowledgeable was Grantham about the museum’s holdings?

But why would Grantham have taken it? Or allowed his companion to do so? Lia was willing to consider the possibility that one of them might have taken it even if the reason was puzzling but glancing at Rupert, she saw that he would be slow to accept the idea that the museum’s major benefactor would have endangered a priceless manuscript or even stolen it.

Chapter 3

I need to get out of here, Rupert said.

He hurried her out of the museum to a small and crowded restaurant a brisk five-minute walk away. Usually, they ordered lunch to be delivered and ate it in the staff room in the museum's basement. First, Rupert would lock the manuscript in its case, and Lia would remove her gloves. She thought he slipped the key into his pocket on those days. Yes, he did. When they finished lunch, he accompanied her back to the room and would reopen the case. Sometimes she wanted to skip lunch entirely to continue her work and would have done so, but Rupert showed up promptly at one pm every Monday, only occasionally being slightly late. And she enjoyed their conversations.

Rupert now told her he had spent the morning talking to employees or researchers who might have had a reason to use the room where the Breton manuscript was housed. He had also talked to the head of security, Bill Bradford. Bill had agreed that they would conduct their own thorough search, but if the manuscript didn’t materialize within the next few hours, they would have to inform the police and the insurance company. Bill had his people search in other rooms, in archives–anywhere, no matter how unlikely. By the time Lia and Rupert left for lunch, the manuscript was still missing, but the search was ongoing.

All morning, Lia had sat in her usual space in the little room feeling stunned but attempting to work on the notes she had brought with her both on her tablet and in a notebook. She got very little work done. Mainly her attention drifted to the empty space which usually contained the manuscript, willing it to materialize. She wanted to help track it down, but she had no authority here. She couldn’t search the museum herself and if allowed, she would have no idea where to search.

She thought about Rachel’s account of the visit of Clifford Grantham on Saturday and that Clay, the antiquarian, had said he believed the manuscript was still in its usual case when he left late on Thursday. Rupert had called him again and Clay, having thought about it, said he was used to how that room looked and especially how books and manuscripts were displayed, and that he was now convinced that everything was as usual when he was working there on Wednesday and Thursday, and that the Breton manuscript was definitely in its case when he left around 5 pm on Thursday.

Have you thought of contacting Grantham? Lia asked.

And say what? Ask him if he removed a priceless ancient manuscript without permission?

Lia absentmindedly chewed on a piece of Italian bread. Eating the ravioli dish she had ordered now felt callous in the face of Rupert’s inability to touch his own lunch. He was gulping coffee, which would not help his anxiety.

You could say you were sorry to have missed him when he stopped by your office last Saturday and wondered if you could be helpful. Ask if he found everything he needed?

"He left me some photographs of possible future acquisitions and a note. It was all self-explanatory. I couldn’t even come up with a question about it at the best of times. But my mind is so frazzled right now I couldn’t formulate a coherent question. And if I tell him the real reason for my call, he will know the manuscript is missing. They will hold me responsible. Lia, I am responsible. The lock wasn’t broken. Someone opened the case. They got the key from my office. I should have locked that key cabinet."

Alana!

You think Alana took it? Rupert stared at her in shock but also with a wild hope.

No, I mean, Alana might have some useful input. Will she be working this afternoon?

Yes. As you know, she is still working reduced hours.

Alana had recently had a baby and had requested a half-time position for twelve months, coming into the museum afternoons only. Alana was usually the one who came to lock the manuscript away on Mondays when Lia was ready to leave.

Rupert looked hopeful. Lia had reminded him of one more source of information. I’ll talk to her when we get back, he said.

You should try to eat, Lia said, gesturing at his untouched plate.

Rupert complied, taking a bite of his sandwich.

How are things otherwise? she asked.

With Fenella? We had a talk, and she agreed to be more responsible regarding finances. I don’t know what that means exactly. We are still working on the specifics.

Last week at lunch, Rupert had told Lia about his wife’s extravagant spending, which had resulted in credit card bills they couldn’t afford to pay. Rupert had not been keeping track of finances and had been shocked when confronted with the bills.

Rupert shook his head. "I don’t know what’s going on with her. She was never exactly responsible regarding money,