The Crystal Cage Read Online Free

advertising the most diverse assortment of goods: Henry Edwards’ highly esteemed custard powder (with directions) to make custards without eggs, Dewar’s brown Durham mustard, Appold’s centrifugal pump for draining marshes. Beneath the pile of advertisements lay price lists that told me how much J. S. Fry’s chocolate and cocoa cost in 1851, or how much money I would need to afford Anderson’s Exhibition patent Victoria car. Fascinating stuff but useless for my purpose.
    I felt foolish in having invested my hopes in so little. Irritably I bundled price lists, trade cards and advertisements back into the box. There was one I hadn’t seen before but that now caught my eye, a beautiful picture; I think in fact it must have been a painting of a scarlet-and-black wall hanging. I looked more closely. According to the motto beneath, it was made of Italian silk from the Veneto and quite exquisite in its vibrant colours and intricate pattern. The name of the company offering these wares had been largely obliterated, but if I’d been around in 1851 I could have seen this work of beauty and others like it at a pavilion constructed in association with Daniel de Vere and Partners, Great Russell Street. The question that immediately sprang to mind was the nature of that association. Were de Vere’s the middlemen, the importers of these sensuous silks, or perhaps they were the company charged with marketing the goods, including producing this very advertisement? But might ‘association’ in fact mean that de Vere and Partners were responsible for designing the display space? It was a notable name, in fact so notable that it hadn’t registered with me on my original trawl through the list of architectural practices involved in the Exhibition. I felt my heart beat a little too loudly.
    I scrabbled my way back through the discarded mounds of paperwork and pulled out the official Catalogue again. Hastily I skimmed the list of practices but there was no trace of de Vere and Partners. Next I read up the column rather than down. I don’t know what I expected to find that would be different. But still no de Vere. I began to feel a tingling at the base of my neck. Of course the advertisement might not be significant. Even if de Vere’s had been the original architects for this pavilion, they might have been replaced at some time by another practice, one that
was
listed in the Catalogue. But if not, here was a firm who had designed an Exhibition space for a company selling Italian silk—and the Italian connection might be pertinent—a firm of architects who did not in fact feature on the Exhibition’s official list. Could it be that I’d finally alighted on a clue?

Chapter Two
    But I was getting ahead of myself. I needed to find out the precise nature of de Vere’s business; or rather, Nick Heysham did. I strolled towards South Kensington station thinking over what I should say to him. Away from the thunder of the Cromwell Road traffic, it was a pleasant enough walk in the late afternoon sun through tree-lined side streets, and I took my time. I should have been delighted that I’d found any kind of clue, but during the slow walk my earlier euphoria had almost evaporated. In retrospect it seemed such a tenuous link that I couldn’t in all faith imagine it would stand up to scrutiny. But since I wouldn’t be the one scrutinising it, I was happy to pass on the information I had. I reached for my phone and called the number Nick had given me.
    ‘Grace, hi! Great to hear from you.’
    I wondered if his enthusiasm was a permanent state. It could prove wearing if I saw too much of him. But that was hardly likely to happen. There was no reason for me to be involved any further since I’d gone as far as I could in satisfying my researcher’s curiosity. If he wanted to take it further, he could.
    I thought I’d get straight to the point. ‘I haven’t very exciting news for you. I’ve spent all day reading but without a single