Edmund's carriage careened towards the dock, stopping with a rear of the horses and the clatter of wheels on cobblestones.  He leapt from the carriage, his young constable friend in tow, and raised his arms towards the constables that turned towards the sound of the carriage.<br/><br/>"Fear not, my good men," he said loudly, "Edmund Worthington is on the case!"<br/><br/>A few of the constables clapped politely, a few more stood about staring, and a handful rolled their eyes.  Edmund ignored them all, scanning the gathered crowd for Annabelle, whom he suspected might have beaten him to the docks.  He had forgotten her outfit change, however, and so his eyes passed over her as she made her way through the crowd.<br/><br/>Edmund strolled up to the head constable, watching as the man laid out bits of waterlogged and burned bank notes.  Edmund gave a low whistle - there was a lot of money there.  Some sort of payout, perhaps?  What could have been worth such an enormous sum?<em>Curiouser and curiouser</em>, he thought, and then he made his way over to the bodies.  Most were burned beyond recognition, but one was waterlogged, obviously drowned.<br/><br/>"Who's this one, then, where'd you find him?" he asked the constable, toeing the body with his left foot.<br/><br/>"Caught in a net downriver, along with several briefcases filled with newsprint, topped with bank notes, sir," the constable responded, "E's a local fence, name uv Justin Harkness.  Specializes...pardon, specialized, in fencin' stolen antiquities."<br/><br/>Edmund furrowed his brow; why would anyone put a bank note atop a stack of newsprint?  He had no idea, but he bet Annabelle would.  As an official investigator on the case, he was allowed to take a stack of the newsprint with bank note, and put it in his pocket with the doll.  Now, if he could only find Annabelle, maybe they could start making sense of this mess.