Call it a Search

[rabidsamfan]

The parlor was wildly disarrayed, my consulting room near dismantled, but a noise from the kitchen drew us past the front rooms. We found Jenny and Mrs. Bascomb locked into the pantry, hysterical but unharmed. I left Stamford soothing them while I went up the servants' stairs to the bedrooms. There, the signs of a hasty search proved that the invaders were not common burglars. My desk had been rifled, my books pulled down from the shelves, but Mary's jewelry box was untouched.

I should have thought them long gone had I not heard a sudden clatter from the attic.