Plagium (Keepers Book 1)

Chapter 27 - In Which (All) Truths Are Revealed

"Good morning!" Mr. Porter cheerfully said as he pushed open the door to Porter Keeper Shoppe, sending the bell ringing. "Has the motor-mail sent in today's news yet, Tracey?"

"Not yet," Tracey replied from the ground. She had spent the better part of her morning sorting through the aftermath of Mr. Porter's kidnapping and now found herself sitting comfortably on the wooden floors, paperwork surrounding herself. "But then again," she added, "I've been so focused on refiling these papers, I might not've heard it."

"You've been gone for two weeks, and already you're back at it, aren't you?" he chuckled.

"I'm a fast recoverer," Tracey said with a smile. "I'm just glad to get rid of all those bandages," she added, touching her hair.

"I can't thank you enough," he said, setting down his bag onto his desk.

"Think nothing of it," she replied. Tracey sighed as she once more surveyed the mess of the room. "I wonder...if Jon were simply searching for one document, why would he leave the office in such a mess? This will take ages to clean!"

"Hm," Mr. Porter thoughtfully hummed. "Likely to stage a burglary, I suppose," he said with a shrug. Mr. Porter walked to the motor-mail, found it to be empty, and returned once more to his desk.

"A poorly staged burglary," Tracey sniffed. "Who leaves windows and doors open in the middle of the night? And with all the lights on? It's as if he wanted to get caught."

"Who knows what was on his mind? He's a hard fellow to read." Mr. Porter began sorting the documents strewn across his desk. "He was visiting the shop rather frequently before his...abducting me. I suspected that he knew I had Mrs. Pinot's evidence, but I never thought that he'd be so desperate to keep me silent!" Mr. Porter paused as he separated the pages into stacks. "I was supposed to have turned in Mrs. Pinot's evidence to the High Constable when he stopped the night before. Can't say I remember too much from it," he said, squinting. "He used some sort of red gear-device on me."

"I know it well," she grimly replied. "Done!" she triumphantly said as she sorted the last sheet. Tracey stood, snatched a couple of stacks of paper, then walked over to the filing cabinet. "Did he ever find the evidence? I can hardly tell what's what in this chaos," she said, placing the paper into their respective folders.

"Thankfully not," he said.

The door jingled as it slammed open, taking Tracey by surprise. "I'm sorry, we're not open today," she started.

"Worry not, Ms. Higgenbottom, it is I, Mr. William Matthews!" boomed the familiar, loud voice.

"Mr. Matthews!" she said, quickly closing the drawers and straightening to greet the banker. "What brings you here?"

"Remington over here told me that he'd be in the shop today," he said.

"I thought you'd drop by later," Mr. Porter said, giving him a friendly wave. "How've you been, old pal?"

"Fine, fine. I needed to come and see for myself if you were fine," he said. "Too many inconsistencies these past few weeks! Firstly, you send me a letter via...motor-mail."

"I'd never do that, William."

"Secondly," Mr. Matthews continued, dramatically holding two fingers in the air. "Ms. Higgenbottom was very suspicious when she visited me!"

"You did what now?" Mr. Porter said, looking to Tracey.

"I can explain later," Tracey quickly said.

"And thirdly," Mr. Matthews continued, his voice close to shaking the room with its volume, "she had your keeper book!"

"I never told you if we did," Tracey retorted.