A few months after my birthday, and indeed a handful of cases later, the ringing of the doorbell had me scurrying from the kitchen to the front hall, yet again.

Let it be said that I answered the door a lot.

A rather good-looking man, who looked about my age, if not a little older, stood on the doorstep. Suddenly I realized that I was still wearing my apron, and was completely covered in flour.

My face flushed a little, and I curtsied, “Hello, sir, can I help you?”

“I was told that this was the house of Sir Locke, the detective, have I come to the right place?” he inquired.

“Yes sir, this is his residence.”

“Please take him my card, and ask if he’ll see me. I don’t have an appointment…” He pulled a card from his coat pocket, on which I read his name, Martin Morstan.

“Come into the front hall, Mr. Morstan. I’ll be back momentarily.” I said, curtseying to him, and stepping aside, allowing the man to enter.

“Thank you.” He said as I hurried up the stairs.

Just as I was about to knock on the door of Sir Locke’s study, it popped open. “Dear Joan, do show the client up!”

I laughed, handing him Mr. Moriston’s card. “Were you standing at the window, creeping on the street again, sir?”

“Perhaps…” The detective was examining the card. “Ah, a tutor, I see.”

“A tutor? How could you possibly know that from just his card?”

“Joan…” My employer rolled his eyes, giving a long-suffering sigh. “It was not a difficult deduction. Surely you could not miss this slight chalk-smudge on the card? And since I know that you don't have any chalk dust on your hands…” To prove his point, he caught my hand, and briefly examined my fingertips, which made my face heat, inexplicably.

“But that could make him a teacher, not necessarily a tutor.” I shrugged, hoping he hadn’t noticed that I’d flushed red as he’d examined my fingers so delicately.

“True. But because, as you did suggest, I was watching, not creeping on, as you refer to it as, but watching the street below, I know that his clothing is not that of a teacher’s. It is a little more expensive than a teacher would venture to buy, I should think, though is too casual to be admitted by most school’s strict rules of dress around here, as they apply to teachers as well as the students. Also, if you will think back to your school days, most schools are still in session at this point in the day, so he is most likely a tutor on retainer with some rich family, kept about so that their children assuredly do well in their studies.”

“Ah. Well, when you point it out, it seems more obvious.” I smiled, shaking my head.

“It is obvious, Joan, you just don’t see the obvious.”

“Thanks, sir, you do wonders for my self-esteem.” I rolled my eyes at him.

Sir Locke blinked, cocking his head to the side a little. “I did not mean that as an insult.”

“I know you didn’t…but very often the things you say could be interpreted as insults, nonetheless. Thankfully, I know you don’t make it a habit to insult people, stupid though we may be.”

“I didn't mean to imply that you were stupid. I never do.” Gabriel said quickly, blinking, “I just mean that you see, but you simply don’t observe…anyways, please show our tutor up.”

“Of course.” I went back downstairs, and addressed the potential client. “I’m sorry that took so long,”

“Is there a problem?” Mr. Morstan wanted to know, his voice was tinged with worry.

“No, of course not.” I laughed, “Sir Locke has a way of pulling me into discussions that I did not foresee. Please, let me show you up.”

“Alright.” The client seemed a little confused.

I led the supposed tutor up the stairs, and knocked on Sir Locke’s door, then opened it, admitting him into the study.

“Mr. Morstan, welcome! Please, have a seat.” My employer motioned at the couch, and the visitor sat. “Now, what can I do for you?” I turned, meaning to leave and get back to helping Mrs. Hudson with the bread, but Gabriel addressed me before Mr. Morstan could speak, “If you would do me the favor of staying, Joan, I would appreciate that. You may be needed.”

I looked down, a bit embarrassed at the state of my clothes. “At least let me change out of my apron, sir. I’m covered in flour…”

“That’s of no consequence. Please.” He requested waving my concern away, his tone earnest.

“Alright then.” I sat down in an armchair. It never failed to surprise me, or please me, when he asked me to sit in on another case, and this was no exception.

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“Sorry, now please, do tell us your tale.” Sir Locke motioned for the client to begin.

“Quite.” The rather attractive man nodded. “I guess I should begin with a little bit about myself. I’m a tutor for a family on the other side of town.” The statement made Gabriel shoot me a pointed, slightly smug look. I rolled my eyes at him, pretending to be annoyed, as if I had actually thought that he was wrong. Mr. Morstan continued. “My parents both died in a terrible accident while traveling in foreign lands, when I was quite young, and so I was brought up by my Uncle and Aunt, who secured my job with a friend of theirs, which is my current position.”

“Alright.” my employer nodded. “What brings you to me today?”

“Well, it all really started when I came of age three years ago.” Mr. Morstan paused, gathering his thoughts. “On my birthday, I woke up, and found a peculiar little package sitting on my bedside table.”

“I take it that your employers didn’t leave you a birthday gift?” Gabriel’s eyebrows were raised, amused, but he seemed otherwise bored.

“No.” Mr. Morstan shook his head. “Because I took it to them and asked if they had put it in my room while I slept, which would have been most unlike them. Especially when I saw the contents of the box.”

“Which were?” Gabriel was growing impatient, but I didn’t think that our guest noticed.

“A very large, very beautiful pearl.” Mr. Morstan said, producing a box from his pocket, and opening it, revealing three such pearls. “I was surprised, but not upset, of course, such a pearl would fetch a lovely price, I’m sure.”

“There are three there, though.” I said, confused.

“I believe that signifies that this strange little surprise has continued for these three years, am I correct?” Gabriel’s words made me feel stupid, as it was fairly obvious, though I knew it wasn’t his intent to make me feel dumb.

Mr. Morstan nodded. “Yes, the two following years, on my birthday I awoke to small boxes on my bedside table.”

“May I see the pearls?” Gabriel asked, finally looking interested.

“Certainly.” The client leaned forward, and passed the lovely things to him.

“Hm…” Gabriel whipped a lens from his pocket, and examined each one very closely in the palm of his hand. Then he set the box of pearls on the low table that sat in front of where we all sat, and darted about his room, rummaging about for something.

“What are you looking for, Gabriel?” I asked.

“A candle.”

“One in particular? Or just a candle?”

“Actually, a very particular candle that has special identification properties in its flame...It’s purple.”

“That sounds magical indeed!” Mr. Morstan spoke up.

“Perhaps magic is only very advanced science.” Gabriel muttered, but something told me that it was just simply a magical candle. “I can’t find it.”

“Try your second drawer, on the left, sir.” I told him.

“What?” he blinked.

“It’s in your desk’s second drawer that’s on the left side. I believe it’s in the left side of the drawer too.” I told him, vaguely remembering putting a purple candle in there while tidying up one day.

Gabriel blinked, opened the drawer, and pulled out a violet candle. “Quite. Thank you, Joan.”

“Of course.” I nodded.

Gabriel did a few more examinations, and then returned the pearls to their owner, one of which involved waving the pearls over the candle’s flame, which he only did after assuring Mr. Morstan that it wouldn’t harm the sparkling white little spheres. “They’re real pearls.” He said, shrugging. “I have no doubt of that. I wanted to ascertain that before I began any true investigations.”

“You doubted their authenticity? Why would someone send fake pearls?”

“Why indeed?” Gabriel said, sounding thoughtful, but then shook himself. “But they aren’t fake. Of course, that’s not what you came here for, is it? To have them shown to be genuine? You would have gone to an expert in the matter, if you wanted that.”

“You’re quite right.” Martin nodded, “Truth in fact, my birthday is coming up, and I should like to know who has been putting them in my room, so that I might thank them…”

“And of course, I’m sure you want to know if the strange deliveries will continue. They will bring you a pretty penny, I’m sure.” Gabriel laughed.

“That too.” The tutor nodded. “I also would like to know how they got into my room.”

“You don’t think they just crept through the door?” I asked.

“I lock my door every night.” Mr. Morstan shook his head.

“Why do you do that?” I asked, surprised. I wouldn’t lock my door, what if I needed to exit in a hurry?

“There are dogs, I believe, Joan. And I’m guessing they can push the door open, if you do not lock it?” Gabriel spoke up.

Mr. Morstan blinked, “Indeed. How did you know that?”

“Dog hairs on your trousers, and some scratches on your shoes that only a dog would make.” Gabriel said in an offhand voice. “What about windows?”

“There is one, and it can’t really be unlatched from the outside, and I never open it, for fear of letting in bugs in the summer, or the cold in the winter. Also, my room is on the third floor of my employer's home, so unless whoever it is has a ladder, they’re not getting in that way.” Mr. Morstan said, shrugging.

Gabriel was quiet for a few moments. “Would it be possible for me to examine your rooms?”

“Of course. My employers won’t mind, in fact, they’re just as curious as I am to know how such a thing is happening. After all, someone is somehow sneaking into their house to place the pearls in my room.” He replied.

“Then I think that we will come down tomorrow, first thing.” Gabriel stood.

“Wonderful!” Mr. Morstan nodded, smiling. “Thank you very much, Sir Locke!”

“He does love a good puzzle.” I laughed. “And you’ve given him a locked-room mystery. Those are the best.”

“Are they? I hadn’t any idea that many people were in the habit of creating them.” The attractive young man laughed.

“I’m sure they don’t make a habit of it, like you do, though.” I smiled.

Mr. Morstan opened his mouth to reply, but Gabriel interrupted. “Pray, we must get your address, I daresay.”

“What? Oh, of course.” Mr. Morstan busied himself with writing the address down.

Gabriel turned to me, “Do go see if Mrs. Hudson needs some help, I think you were making bread when I pulled you away? Give her my apologies.”

“Oh. Right.” I stood. He didn’t usually dismiss me back to my typical duties until after the client had left, and he’d had a good long session of bouncing the case off of me, so the suddenness of him sending me off was a little odd.

Had I done something wrong? I wracked my brain, and couldn’t come up with anything that would have annoyed or irritated Gabriel.

Maybe he just…wanted to do this case by himself, for some reason? Though he had asked me to stay…only to dismiss me very quickly once the story was told. It was very odd.