Just as the three friends were leaving the house, Gran happened by, and spotted Emily nestled down against Shirley's neck, nibbling happily on her hair.
"A twiggy!" she exclaimed, delighted."
"A- a what?" Bo stammered.
"A twiggy!" Gran repeated, approaching the little animal and offering her fingertips for haughty inspection. "It's what they call them - hedgehogs - in the rural parts of England. I spent a summer there, and haven't been able to drop the habit since.
"I had one, once. I called him Maximilian. He was a perfect little gentleman- used to sit on my shoulder quite nicely, in fact. We called him the Twittering Twiggy, because he used to make little twittering, chirping noises like a bird. May I?" she asked the last question with hands extended in a request to hold Emily. Matt boded, so Peggy picked Emily up.
"Hello there, you lovely . . . lady! How are you? Why- what on Earth is this? A tattoo?" she squinted, trying to study it. "So, you're a tattooed twiggy, are you? And what id your name, little miss, hmm?"
"Emily," Matt said, just as Shirley said:
"Tashari."
They glanced at each other, Matt puzzled, and Shirley horrified that she had said the name.
Gran merely arched an eyebrow, petted Emily/Tashari a bit more, and then handed her back to Shirley.
As they were walking down the road, Matt turned to look at Shirley and ask, "Why'd you call her Tashari?"
"Because, Shirley said, "it's her real name."
Then she related what she had heard taking place in the conference room, and why people were looking for the heir.
"You mean, she's the Prince's hedgehog?" Matt was shocked.
"Twiggy." Bo tried out the name. "It's cute."
"Yes," Shirley nodded to Matt, "But what I don't understand is, what was she doing in your friend's pet store?"
"Good question," Matt frowned slightly. Bo spoke.
"Hey- didn't you say that an Asian woman brought her in?"
"Yeah," Matt said, comprehension dawning in his eyes.
"So," Shirley said quickly, picking up on what Bo meant, "It's possible the woman was a courier, and Emily was left as- as a map to find the heir?"
"Yeah!" Matt exclaimed. Then he paused, concluding, "Although it would make a lot more sense if it were the heir himself who brought her in. Maybe he couldn't."
Again, memory assaulted Shirley. This time, she could remember a bit more- it was something the king had said about the heir's "affliction", and how it was "bound to divide the nation." But he had also said "birthright it birthright, and I stand firm there."
Was the heir crippled? But hadn't that been Prince Ariani and Princess Liani she'd played with? And the prince had challenged her (Shirley) to race after race. Although he had generously lost most of them, there had been nothing wrong with him that she could see.
Still, she shared her memory and hypothesis with Bo and Matt, who had agreed that it was very likely.
They had almost reached the block of apartments when Alicia accosted them for the second time that day.
"Shirleyshirleyshirley!" she squealed at her friend, appearing to be on a sugar-high, "guesswhatguesswhatguesswhat!"
"Um, I don'tknowdon'tknowdon'tknow?" Shirley frowned.
"It's Mr.Marany! He's agreed to teach me after school, because Mr.Howie vouched for the fact that I need so much help in chemistry."
"That's great, Alicia," Shirley said, with an effort. She was fairly dancing with her impatience to go on. "Now-"
"It's going to be so much fun!" Alicia sighed rapturously. "Those eyes- that smile - that accent . . ."
"Accent?" Shirley as startled. She had completely forgotten about the piercing, almost mosquito-like voice of the Asian man. But now that Alicia mentioned it . . .
An idea was forming in her head.
"Bo," she said abruptly, "how bad are you in Chemistry?"
"Shirley, don't rub it in," Bo frowned. His friend shook her head impatiently at him.
"No, no- can you fake needing help? I need you to get closer to Mr.Marany. I need you to check his wrist for a little, triangle-shaped tattoo."
Matt's head snapped up, and his eyes widened.
"Shirley-!"
"Uh-huh," she nodded, "the tattoo- the mark of the Marhini Royal Family. I think," she went on, turning to face Bo, too, "that our Mr.Marany is actually Prince Ariani."
* * *
"You're kidding, right?" Bo asked for the fifth time, as Shirley and Matt dragged him up to the doors of Sussex Academy, a downright bewildered Alicia tagging along.
"Not by half," Shirley promised, as she studied his appearance critically. "Hmm- try to make your stare look a bit more vacant, won't you?"
What does this triangle look like, anyway?" Bo wanted to know.
"A regular triangle," Matt reassured him, "Probably blue, to match Emily's tattoo. Just a single line, not filled in- sort of like your tattoo there, on your hand."
Bo looked down at the last remaining symbol of what he was inclined to think of as his 'previous life', an unreadable expression on his face. Shirley cut into his thoughts with a pensive question.
"I don't suppose you could drool a bit, could you?"
"Shirley!" Bo exclaimed in protest.
"Shirley," Matt said gently. "he's just going in for some after-school help, not to run for 'Dunce of the Year'. He looks fine."
Bo shot Matt a grateful look, as Shirley sighed her reluctant defeat and said:
"Fine. But remember, you need help with problem six, page forty-two. He'll need to show you that one on your paper, instead of on the board. Matt and I won't be out here- we'll go and check the apartment, to see who else is in on this, and we'll meet you here around six o'clock."
"Will you please call your parents, and say you're eating at Shirley's, and call Shirley's, and say that we're eating at your house? Matt put in.
Bo nodded.
"Sure. But don't be too long- if I'm not back by seven, I think Mum and Dad will start to wonder. Well- here I go!"
They watched as Alicia and Bo went up the steps, into the school building. Then Shirley turned to Matt, took a deep breath, and said:
"Well? Shall we?"
* * *
The apartments that matched the pattern on the map were extremely nice ones, with well-dressed people filtering in and out of doors guarded by forbidding-looking doormen.
"Pricey," Shirley murmured, as they advanced up the flagstone walk.
"Nice, Matt approved."
Shirley felt, rather than saw, the doorman giving them both elevator eyes. She held her breath; both of them were well dressed, but now she wished that they'd kept on their school uniforms- it would have practically guaranteed their admittance.
Apparently they checked out, however, for the doorman made no move to stop them, and they passed through the elegant glass doors with simultaneous sighs of relief.
Stopping in the lobby, they studied an elegant list of the names of the people who lived in the apartments.
"Adler, Allen, Anderson, Argyle, Armstrong, Belden, Bennett, Benson . . . Remember, we're probably looking for Marany or Marhini. " Shirley murmured.
"Horton, Huntington, Ives, Jackson . . ."
"There sure are a bunch of them," Shirley frowned. "By the looks of it, this place can hold over a hundred families."
"Hey- Luddesin, M." That's that pretty diplomat's name, isn't it?" Matt said. Shirley frowned, thought, then nodded.
"Yes. Miang, I think was her first name. Dad said that she was best friends with the princess before she died." Shirley's expression was sympathetic, now, and she thought of Maya. "You can only imagine how terrible she must feel, now that the princess is- is- you know."
"What was her name?" Matt asked, as they continued to study the list carefully for any name that sounded like Marany or Marhini.
"The princess?" Shirley squinted, trying to picture the shadowy figure of the gentle, solemn-faced girl who had been kind and friendly towards the merry little girl who was playing so eagerly with she and her brother. She had been small (not as small as the other women of her nationality, though), and beautiful- very, very beautiful.
"I think it was Liana, or Liani. Yes, Liani. Liani Marhini." Shirley nodded. "She was-"
She stopped abruptly.
"Matt!"
"I know," Matt was smiling quietly. "I now. Just now, I started to wonder. You're sure-?"
"Positive." Shirley was fairly quivering with excitement. "The king was talking about the heir's handicap. How the nation would be divided- I just never remembered what he meant."
"Well, that's understandable," Matt said, as the two detectives noted the room number by the name, and took off, heading for the elevator, "I mean, at the time you probably wouldn't have agreed that the heir really was handicapped."
"I still don't!" Shirley said, indignant, as the elevator ascended to the sixth floor.
"Imagine," she fumed, as the box stopped, and the doors slid open, "Handicapped! Just because the heir is a GIRL!"
Matt smiled wryly at her as they reached apartment F6, and knocked on the door.
"I'll have to admit, Shirley, if there's one thing you're not, then it's handicapped."
Shirley was about to snort, when Miang Luddesin opened the door. She had removed the business suit she'd been wearing earlier, and replaced it with a gray silk sari, embroidered with shining silver threads. Her thick, glossy black hair hung down her back to her waist in shimmering waves, and she had a single dot made of jet in the center of her forehead that, Shirley recalled, stood for beauty.
Well, she thought, if anybody should wear it, then Miang was the one.
"It’s Shirley Holmes!" Miang exclaimed, delighted. "And- Matthew, wasn't it? Matthew Haring? Harris!"
"Yes," Matt smiled. Shirley smiled too, then spoke.
"We need to talk to you," she informed the woman. "It's urgent. It's about- Tashari. And Prince Ariani, and the heir."
Miang's eyes widened, and she raised one slim hand to her mouth.
"The princess? You have news of the princess?"
"Yes."
"Come in," she said, "please!"
As they followed her, Matt leaned over and hissed at Shirley:
"Why'd you tell her that? Wasn't she, like, best friends with the princess? It news to us that she even was the heir!"
"I have news about her, then," Shirley said calmly, "Don't worry- I know exactly where Liani is."
Miang gestured for them to be seated, and then followed their example.
"Firstly," Shirley said, "for Tashari."
Then, reaching around behind her neck, under her hair, she carefully picked up the little hedgehog (twiggy) which had nestled down there.
"Tashari!" Miang exclaimed. "It's Prince Ariani's little Tashari!" she reached out, and plucked the little animal form Shirley's hands to nestle it close to her body, crooning to it in her native language.
"Secondly," Shirley said, "is Prince Ariani. He's posing as a Chemistry teacher at Sussex Academy, a private school I attend. You can reach him whenever you choose."
"Ariani, as I recall, always loved chemistry," Miang's pert little nose wrinkled in amusement. "And he always did wonder what it would be like to be a teacher. Is he any good at it?" she asked curiously.
"He's wonderful," Shirley reassured her, "just wonderful."
She fell silent for a minute, watching Miang as she played with Emily/Tashari, whom she held comfortably between her elegant, dark hands.
At last, Miang looked up, and prompted, voice soft but tense,
"Her Highness?"
"Ah, yes," Shirley said uncomfortably, "Her Highness, the Princess Liani of the Royal House Marhini, went into hiding. She picked the perfect disguise- a woman in a foreign country, among men who don't know her face from that of another woman's. A particular woman's. In fact- her best friend's.
"And how," Shirley continued, "could she manage that? Because her friend was with her the night of the assassination. And that friend took the bullet that was meant for the princess. Am I right, Your Highness?"
But she didn't need confirmation when Miang Luddesin - Liani Marhini - was bent over her brother's pet hedgehog, crying her heart out.
She wept for over ten minutes, a steady stream of saltwater grief, and Matt and Shirley just let her.
At last she looked up, and her face was no longer that of a common woman who has achieved high status, but that of one who had been born a princess, lived the life of a princess, and would die a princess, no matter what.
"You must think I'm very stupid," Miang - Shirley would never be able to think of her as anything else, now - murmured.
Shirley smiled, and replied using the same words Matt had a day before.
"No," she smiled, "Not stupid. Not stupid at all."
Miang managed a smile. "I don't suppose you remember me, do you, Shirley?"
"Yes. I presented a bouquet to your father. Then you, your brother and I played together for the rest of the day. That must have been . . .eight years ago, now?"
"Yes," Miang smiled- a gentle, regal smile. "Yes, we had quite a day. You were such a pretty little girl- I still remember your dress, and how proud you were of it! And, Shirley, you've grown into a lovely young lady."
Shirley's cheeks flushed a bright pink, and the rest of her followed suit as Mat exclaimed wholeheartedly:
"Hasn't she, though?"
"Now, what is this about Ariani? Can you take me to him? It is most urgent- although Alisson Ifor is still loyal to my family, and knows me for who I am (I assume it was you, Shirley, who sent that e-mail. Alisson brought it straight to me), Jovek Liangaro and Ambassador Rajhim were active participants in bringing about my family's murder. Should they learn I am still alive, I fear my life would not last much longer at all."
"Is it possible anybody followed us?" Shirley immediately demanded of Matt, who considered the question before answering.
"Not only possible, but likely," he said quietly. "When we left the house, either the Ambassador or Liangaro could have been waiting for us- and Alicia sure didn't make us hard to spot when she started shouting about Mr.Marany- I mean, His Highness."
"Then we have to get Princess Liani out of here," Shirley said tersely. "Matt, take her out the front door- they'd never expect that. I'll call the police, and stay here- if there's an emergency, I can reach you with this."
She tossed Matt her cell phone, and with a reluctant look at her, he led Miang and Emily/Tashari out the door, and down the hall.
Shirley counted to a hundred slowly and agonizingly, at last getting up from her seat, and reaching for the phone.
She had just punched in the first digit of 9-1-1, when a scraping sound came from the front of the apartment.
"Bo?" she called. "Matt? Is that you?"
"No, Shirley," said a voice with definite Sojrenjaron accents, "it's not. Now, please put down that phone. I really don't want to have to shoot you."
* * *
Bo and Mr.Marany were waiting anxiously outside of Sussex, and had been doing so for almost twenty minutes past when Shirley and Matt had agreed to meet them.
"Something's not right," Bo said at last. "I know it wouldn't take them this long if everything was fine. We need to find them."
