The Broken Sun by Darrell Pitt Page B

shouldn’t be here.’
    â€˜You’re right,’ Scarlet said. ‘I’ll go home and take up knitting.’
    â€˜All right, but be careful.’
    â€˜I can look after myself.’
    The next floor was identical, except the pressed-tin ceilings of the rooms had been
removed, exposing the joists and rafters. The sound of the rain hitting the slate
roof was even louder.
    The rooms were also empty. Shooting Scarlet a glance, Jack cautiously eased open
the final door. Inside the window was wide open, rain driven in by a howling wind.
    He must have escaped onto the roof.
    Scarlet pushed past. Jack told her to stop, but she didn’t hear him. She was halfway
across when the floor gave a violent shudder. It groaned, shook and began to collapse.
    â€˜No!’ Jack yelled.
    He threw himself at Scarlet, dragging her towards the window. They both reached for
the sill just as the floor disappeared.
    It slammed into the floor below. And the floor below it. The sound was like an avalanche
and dust choked the air. The racket subsided, replaced by the sound of the pouring
rain. Jack pulled himself up, dragging Scarlet after him. They balanced on the sill.
The front of the building still stood, but the interior had been reduced to rubble.
    â€˜Oh dear,’ Scarlet said, looking at the debris. ‘What a nuisance.’
    â€˜If facing certain death can be called a nuisance, then I suppose it is.’
    â€˜Don’t be silly.’ She punched him in the shoulder. ‘Still, thanks for saving my life.’
    â€˜That’s all right. You can help rearrange my stamp collection later.’
    Jack looked across the adjoining roofs. The man was long gone, but the demolition
had brought people into the street. Jack called down, ‘Would you mind getting the
police? And the fire brigade?’
    An hour later Jack and Scarlet were back at the British Museum. Mr Doyle admonished
them for risking their lives.
    â€˜Did you not hear me calling after you?’ he growled. ‘You must stop taking these
terrible risks. We know very little about these people. You might have been killed.’
    Jack and Scarlet promised to be more careful.
    â€˜Where do we go from here?’ Scarlet asked.
    â€˜Home. I have sent for some information and I believe it will be there when we arrive.’
    â€˜Information?’
    â€˜You’ll see.’
    They hailed a steamcab and headed back to Bee Street. After Jack and Scarlet had
changed, they had a lunch of cucumber sandwiches prepared by Gloria in the sitting
room. A message arrived and Mr Doyle read it.
    â€˜We’ve had some success,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘I have the addresses of the other two men
who first discovered the Broken Sun.’
    He picked up a parcel that had also been delivered, removed a book and leafed through
it.
    â€˜What is it, Mr Doyle?’ Scarlet asked.
    â€˜This is what Professor Clarke had hidden in the safe at the hotel. Scotland Yard
were kind enough to forward it on.’
    â€˜That might be what the thief was looking for,’ Jack said. ‘Is it helpful?’
    â€˜Hmm.’ The detective raised an eyebrow. ‘You tell me.’
    Jack started reading. Scarlet peered over his shoulder and stifled a laugh.
    â€˜Oh dear,’ she said. ‘That’s most unexpected.’
    â€˜Asparagus soup,’ Jack read. ‘Shortbread, lasagne, tomatoes stuffed with mushroom
and garlic risotto.’ He looked up. ‘It’s a cookbook.’
    â€˜Unfortunately, yes,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘It seems the professor is rather a keen chef.
At least we still have the other men from the expedition.’
    â€˜Do you think their lives are in danger?’ Scarlet asked.
    â€˜Undoubtedly. Whoever stole the Broken Sun from the museum will be after the other
pieces. The closest is in Scotland, held by Professor Richard Stein. We will leave
shortly.’
    Gloria appeared. ‘She’s ready and