There was that possibility. Octavia had immediately suspected that he had found the girl in the photograph too quickly. Such speed indicated that either he had known the girl’s whereabouts from the start, or that for some reason he knew he did not need to investigate them. And now that Octavia knew that multiple girls had gone missing, the latter scenario seemed increasingly likely.
“The queen’s brother may think that the girl in the photograph is already dead. Eliza did say there was a catastrophic accident in his research.”
“Right. And frankly, even if he did know where she was, he would’ve considered her unwanted evidence of his experiments. He would have disposed of her at once. But, well, I suppose she was a successful test subject, after all. That would be a helpful clue, if only we knew what test it was that succeeded.”
“Next is the art museum. It’s nearly time for them to open, right?” Octavia put her hat back on and left the station. Outside, she saw that the sun had risen completely. People had begun to fill the streets.
As Octavia set out resolutely toward the Royal Museum of Art, Hat whispered in her ear, “You’ve got an inkling, haven’t you? Tell me.”
“I’m not certain yet.”
“You mean you can’t even tell me, your sidekick?! That won’t do at all!”
“But you’re all-knowing and all-powerful, aren’t you?”
At this, Hat grumbled something unintelligible. It was so silly that Octavia couldn’t help but laugh.
The gates to the park and the Royal Museum of Art had already been unlocked. Octavia was crossing through the park, avoiding the children who played there, when she noticed a group trying to enter the museum from another direction. She stopped in her tracks.
Someone who looked like one of the museum curators emerged from inside, greeting the group. What first stood out to Octavia were the men dressed all in black—sheriffs. But even more remarkable was the man greeted by the curator. He had no wings, but he wore a cloak bearing the crest of the royal family.
“Well, if it isn’t Prince Henry! Could it be that he knew you were coming, Octavia?” exclaimed Hat.
“No, he couldn’t have. It’s a coincidence.” However, this was a good opportunity for Octavia to test whether or not her deduction was correct. She slowed down so her face would not immediately be picked out of the crowd. The curator conducted Henry into the building along with the sheriffs. Keeping a fixed distance from the group, Octavia followed.
Perhaps because it was only just after opening time, there were few people inside the museum. Some stood blinking, watching Henry pass by, but no one there seemed compelled to cause a commotion. This was in keeping with the notice on the wall: Keep quiet inside the museum.
Just as she turned a corner, following them, Octavia caught the sound of a voice: “To think His Majesty, the queen’s brother, would come personally to confirm the seal on the music box.”
She pricked her ears up.
“Well, I had some time on my hands,” Prince Henry replied. “Edward said there was no change, but I want to be sure. Tell me truthfully. Have you noticed any difference?”
The curator was busy selecting a key. He appeared to be trying to open the door to the exhibition hall directly facing Octavia, the very one she had visited yesterday.
“No. We have observed no change. Her Majesty’s seal is intact. The damage sustained was limited to the breaking of the glass case that surrounded the box on its display stand. Now, please, enter.”
Hiding on one side of a large set of double doors, Octavia peered inside the hall. It had been left in exactly the same condition it had been in yesterday. For security, all the other exhibits had been moved, leaving only the stand where the music box was displayed. The case upon the display stand was still broken; shards of glass were scattered across the floor around it.
“I believe I am correct in saying that this is the first time that one of the Phantom Thief’s burglaries has failed,” the curator added. “I have discussed the possibility of displaying the music box as you see it now, for a limited time, with the other museum staff.”
Gazing intently at the music box, Henry made no sound to indicate that he was even listening to the curator, passionate as he was. He slowly reached out to grasp it.
The curator was startled. “Y-Your Highness! That is dangerous! If by some small chance the lid should open—”
“Up until now, has the music box ever started chiming by itself before?”
“Huh? No, of course not! Would that not mean that Her Majesty’s seal had failed?”
“I suppose it would,” replied Henry, seeming to smile slightly. “Don’t worry. It won’t open. The seal...is intact.”
The curator watched Henry return the music box to its case and breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll be leaving now.” Attended by the sheriffs, Henry turned on his heel.
Octavia panicked and fled behind a corner further up the corridor. Fortunately, it seemed that no one had noticed her, and Henry left without delay. But as she caught a glimpse of his face in profile, she noticed the faintest hint of a suppressed smile. The curator locked the door to the exhibition hall again. Following Henry, he left as well.
Pursing her lips, Octavia stood in front of the door to the exhibition hall. From the door hung a placard reading “Authorized Personnel Only.” It seemed that the re-exhibition of the music box was still some ways off.
“What do you want to do,” said Hat, “break it open? We don’t have a tool that can gently open the lock. Though if we did, it would be the emergency activation key.”
“No, there’s no need. I’ve learned what I wanted to know. Just seeing Prince Henry come to check on the box, I think I can be confident in my own deduction.”
“What, so you also wanted to confirm that the queen’s seal was intact? Well, I must say that, at the time, I did wonder whether the music box might have run amok—” Hat broke off mid-sentence, coming to the same realization as Octavia. Yes, at that moment—when the trap set by Edward had put the box in Raven’s hands—the box had not been running amok. It had simply chimed like a normal music box. “Hmm, hmm? You mean there’s nothing strange about that, assuming Raven is Crow, the Phantom Thief? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I don’t think Prince Henry is at all interested in searching for the Phantom Thief.”
“I guess you’re right. If he were going to search for anyone, it would be the girl in that photograph. Hang on, I just got a really nasty feeling about this! Don’t tell me that the reason the Phantom Thief can use the emergency activation key is—”