Shades of Earl Grey

night?”

Drayton grimaced. “Yes, we are. Up until yesterday there were still nasty rumblings from the executive advisory committee about canceling or even delaying the public opening of the Treasures Show. But of course, Timothy Neville fought them tooth and nail. He’s quite adamant about adhering to his predetermined schedule. Don’t you know, all the invitations have been sent out and all the publicity done. So what else could Timothy do? Plus, he didn’t want to look like an alarmist. After all, this cat burglar fellow could have moved on, just like Detective Tidwell suggested.”

“He hasn’t,” spoke up Theodosia. “In fact, it seems there’s been another break-in. Tidwell just told me about it. That’s the reason I was so upset.”

Drayton put a gnarled hand to his head, rubbed his gray hair. “Oh, no. Did he mention where?”

“The Hall-Barnett House,” said Theodosia.

“Wow,” said Haley. “What was snatched this time?”

“An antique tea caddy,” said Theodosia.

Drayton and Haley just stared at her.

“Weird,” said Haley finally.

“So, like the shark with his territorial feeding habits, this fellow is still circling the neighborhood,” sighed Drayton.

“And it looks like he’s making tighter circles,” said Theodosia. “The Hall-Barnett House is just a couple blocks from here.”

Haley shuddered. “That feels a little too close for comfort.”

“This new information is absolutely appalling,” declared Drayton, fingering his bow tie nervously. “Who else

knows about this?”

“I honestly don’t know,” said Theodosia.

“If Timothy or the executive committee find out, they’ll for sure cancel the opening,” said Drayton glumly.

“Then don’t tell them,” piped up Haley.

They were all three silent for a moment.

“What if,” said Haley finally, “what if we could concoct some kind of scheme? Something that would trap this guy for good?”

“We already tried that,” snapped Drayton, obviously feeling dispirited and dejected.

“Not really,” said Haley. “The electronic devices you set up weren’t exactly a trap. You said yourself they were more of a security precaution.”

“Which didn’t work,” said Drayton with a dispirited air.

“Because the electricity went off,” offered Haley. “Not because you guys screwed up.”

The timer on the oven suddenly emitted a loud ding. Startled, Drayton gave a little jump, then watched sheepishly as Haley slipped an oven mitt onto her hand and opened the oven door. The two round cake layers looked perfect. Beautifully golden brown and pocked with tiny bubbles like the surface of a miniature moon. Smiling, Haley pulled the two pans of coconut cake from the oven.

“Perfect,” murmured Drayton as he gazed at the cakes.

Haley set the cakes to cool on the scarred wooden table. “You just said a mouthful, Drayton,” said Haley. “Because what you need this time is the perfect plan.”

He stared at her. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re jabbering about.”

Theodosia, deep in thought, suddenly spoke up. “Tell me, Drayton, what’s the most valuable object that the Heritage Society has in their collection?”

Sidetracked by Theodosia now, Drayton scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I suppose it would be a silver tray made by Paul Revere. The Calhoun family had it in their possession for ages until they donated it to us two years ago.” He threw Theodosia a dubious glance, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. “But I hardly think Timothy’s going to allow us to use a valuable such as that for bait. Especially in light of how our efforts failed so miserably at protecting the Blue Kashmir in the European Jewel Collection.”

“Exactly,” said Theodosia. “Which means we’re going to have to pull something out of a hat.”

“What?” Drayton’s voice rose in a squawk. “What are you talking about?”

“And,” said Theodosia, “it’s going to have to be a very tasty little item.” She gazed at Drayton, her blue eyes sparkling, her enthusiasm suddenly back with a vengeance. “Drayton, your friend still writes the arts column for the Post & Courier, doesn’t he?”

Drayton nodded. “Sheldon Tibbets? Yes, he’s still doing a fine job of it. But I don’t see what—”

“Do you think you could persuade Mr. Tibbets to compose a special little blurb for us?” Theodosia said in a rush.

“I suppose I could,” said Drayton slowly.

“Excellent,” said Theodosia as her energy seemed to increase by leaps and bounds. “Because we’re going to take the liberty of augmenting the Heritage Society’s collection.”

Drayton narrowed his eyes. “What exactly do you mean by augment?” he asked.

Theodosia suddenly jumped down off her stool. “The three of us are going to come up with a glitzy, glamorous new objet d’art. Something that’s utterly irresistible to a professional cat burglar. And as the icing on the proverbial cake, you, my dear Mr. Conneley, are going to persuade your good friend, Sheldon Tibbets, to give our fabulous new collectible a big write-up in tomorrow’s paper!”

Drayton stared at her. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I couldn’t be more serious,” said Theodosia. What had Timothy Neville said to her just a few days ago? She racked her brain. Oh, yes, he said, “There’s no guarantee the disaster of last Saturday night won’t be repeated.”

“We’re going to deliver a guarantee!” exclaimed Theodosia. “A treasure so tasty and utterly irresistible that it’s guaranteed to attract every salivating cat burglar from here to Palm Beach!”

Drayton was shaking his head and his voice carried a dubious tone. “But what object could possibly do that?” he asked.

Theodosia thought for a moment, recalling an article about so-called investment collectibles that had run not too long ago in Business Week magazine. Let’s see, she thought, the article mentioned that sports memorabilia were very big today. As well as the ever- popular antiques and artwork. And gold coins. And what else?

Theodosia suddenly pushed her way through the velvet draperies back into the tea shop. Puzzled, Haley and Dray-ton followed in her wake.

Theodosia stood poised in the middle of the Indigo Tea Shop, her eyes wandering as her mind struggled to spin out a plausible scenario.

Something rare, she told herself. Intriguing, mysterious, with a huge intrinsic value. As her eyes continued to wander, they fell upon the display of teas that sat on one of the wooden shelves behind the old brass cash register. There was a huge selection. Boxes of loose tea from Higgins & Barrow Tea, as well as from Toby & Sons, and Chelsea and Worther.

Suddenly, her eyes focused on the box of Dunsdale Earl Grey Tea. It bore a delightful label, pale green with a heraldic crest surrounded by elaborate flourishes. In the middle was a silhouette of some nobleman. Perhaps, she surmised, the founding Dunsdale himself.

Inspiration suddenly hit her.

“How about a postage stamp?” suggested Theodosia.

Drayton blinked. Any enthusiasm he seemed to be mustering suddenly drained out of him. “Theodosia, I’m sorry but I’ve been collecting postage stamps for almost thirty years and the rarest one I have is an 1861 two-cent Andrew Jackson with a double transfer on the top left corner. A delicious specimen, to be sure, but not quite in the lofty realm of rare stamps. Not in the ranks that might attract the attention of a cat burglar, anyway.”

Theodosia smiled placidly as Drayton continued.