When Clara inherited her grandmother's rambling Victorian house, she expected dust, cobwebs, and perhaps a grumpy cat. What she did not expect was a squat, copper-plated robot named Barnaby who rolled out of the pantry and offered her a cup of chamomile tea. Barnaby had been her grandmother's companion for decades, and he insisted on maintaining the household exactly as she had left it. Despite his cheerful demeanor, however, Clara noticed that Barnaby seemed unusually anxious, as if he were hiding something behind his polished metal face.
The mystery began to unfold on Clara's third night in the house. A priceless porcelain figurine—a shepherdess that had belonged to her grandmother—vanished from the mantelpiece. Barnaby claimed he had been recharging in the utility closet, but his battery indicator showed a full charge, which struck Clara as suspicious. She decided to investigate, and she started by examining the dust patterns on the floor, which revealed a trail of tiny wheel marks leading toward the attic. "Curious," she murmured, "very curious indeed."