The Gadgeteer Box Set

by Gin Hollan

  "Disguise?" Melanie asked.

  Arabeth nodded.

  "I don't think that will work." She slammed the door shut, locking herself in again.

  There had to be a way to improvise a sedative, Arabeth thought. She went through the bathroom cupboard, looking for anything she could combine or alter to do the task. Seeing nothing viable, she checked the kitchen. All she found was a tall bottle of whiskey.

  Hmm, that might take the edge off her, long enough to get to a safe place.

  "Say, Melanie...." She pulled out a couple short glasses from a shelf. "How about a drink? I think it might be medicinal at this point. You've been through a lot." She poured a small amount into both cups, then carried them toward the bedroom door.

  The door eased open a crack, then Melanie opened it wide enough to snatch the glass out of Arabeth's hand, downed it, then did the same with the one in Arabeth's other hand. She returned the glasses to Arabeth and retreated behind the door, shutting it less abruptly, and with an apologetic look.

  "I'll take that as a yes." Arabeth put the empty glasses down on a hall table and went back for the bottle. She had no idea how much it would take to sedate her friend, or even just calm her down a little. Soon she'd be able to take Melanie to a place where she wouldn't be such a hazard to herself. Maybe to her cousin's deserted house. Mr. Jacobs could keep an eye on her, and send word if there was trouble.

  The bedroom door eased open and Melanie stepped out.

  "I'm feeling better, thank you. Is there more?"

  Arabeth handed her another glass. This one held the same single finger-width depth of the first one. Three ounces, approximately. She wasn't sure how accustomed to liquor her friend actually was. This would be interesting.

  "The worst of the headache is gone." Melanie smiled, looking relieved. "I'm going to want a case of this on standby."

  She seemed to be herself again, and nicely relaxed. But Arabeth didn't let her guard down. All hell could break loose the minute her friend sobered up.

  "We should get going."

  "Let me clean myself up first." Melanie went toward the bathroom. "I'll only be a minute."

  Arabeth had another shot ready for her when she came out and she downed it in one gulp.

  "We’d better bring another bottle. I think there's one over the sink," Melanie said. "Wish I'd thought of this. The buzzing in my head is going away. It's odd, though, right?"

  "I'm not going to label it. If it helps you, it helps."

  She grabbed Arabeth's arm and looked her in the eyes. "Seriously, it's night and day. I was going mad, and now my mind is clear. Let's get out of here. Fast."

  "When did this start? Where were you? Were you with anyone?"

  Melanie laughed and turned away. "I'll answer, as we go." She turned in a quick circle, looking around her apartment. "I just need a couple things."

  "No. We can get you the essentials later."

  She nodded. "All right. Just my coat then."

  The only person outside was Mr. Cardall. He looked a little weary as they came out the front door, but he had a cab waiting.

  "I convinced him to quit early today, but he'll be back tomorrow, and probably will stay longer to make up for it," he said.

  "Thank you, Mr. Cardall," both women said at the same time.

  He chuckled. "I trust things will be better now?"

  Arabeth nodded, but tucked the bottle of whiskey a bit further into her coat. She saw Melanie do the same. "It's improving, but we both have a lot of questions. Melanie has been influenced by an outside source, and I need to find that person and stop them."

  "Is this related to the attacks around the city?"

  "I think so." Melanie sighed. "I used to like it here, but lately I … I want to head out to anywhere new."

  "Do you mean that?" Arabeth asked, more than a little surprised.

  "I'm just tired. Work is complicated. Life is complicated. It'll pass. Tell me about the attacks," Melanie said.

  "Remember the automaton?"

  "Sure! There were a lot of people arrested that day."

  "Exactly." Arabeth gave the cab driver her instructions and paid him in advance before climbing in the cab.

  She sat on the couch opposite Melanie and set her satchel gently beside her, ensuring Marble was comfortable.

  "When did you first notice the changes that led to what was going on in your apartment building?" Arabeth asked.

  "I went for a walk and decided to try a different route. Someone told me about this interesting area to the south."

  "Houses on a chessboard pattern?"

  Melanie shook her head. "No, there's a new park. They call it a park, but it looks like a really large lawn. Short, evenly cut grass. Oh, and a brook and a gazebo. It's really quite peaceful, except that's where my headache started and where my ears started ringing. We aren't going near there, are we?"

  "I'm taking you to my cousin's house. It's out of town, to the southeast. It's vacant at the moment, except for the caretaker. He will be happy to have some company, I'm sure. Did you eat or drink anything while you were there?"

  She shook her head. "There was a new silver iron grill up in the gazebo, but no one was using it."

  "You have a startling attention to detail, you know that?" Arabeth smiled. "What else can you tell me about the park?"

  Melanie thought about it for a moment, then gasped. "He was there! Even at a distance, I'd know that silhouette anywhere. Of course, I didn't know him at the time."

  "The man from outside your apartment?"

  She nodded, hand covering her neck. "He was walking a dog. A large one, with short hair. Thin. Like a pointer."

  "Tell me more about that," Arabeth prompted.

  "That's all there is, really." She paused. "But no. The dog wasn't his. He was holding it for someone. I didn't recognize the other person, or their child."

  None of the details regarding the dog and its family had meaning at this point, but Arabeth filed the information away mentally, just in case.

  The cab rolled to an easy stop at the entrance to Betsy’s family’s estate. It was unlit, but then again, it was mid-morning now.

  Harold Jacobs answered the door, smiling. "I saw your cab pull up this time, Mrs Dane. Welcome in."

  "Thank you, Harold. Please just call me Arabeth. This is my friend Melanie. We have a favour to ask. I need to hide her here for a while."

  He frowned, a little off-put. "Are you sure this is allowed?"

  "Let me explain," Melanie offered as she walked into the main receiving room, the same room Harold had lit the candles in last time. She stepped up to a table and pulled out the whiskey. "Without this, my ears ring and I turn violent. When I fall asleep, I need someone to remind me this is a temporary fix if I wake up violent. I'm not suitable company for anyone at the moment, but I won't see the doctors. They'll just lock me away in a sanitarium and drug me."

  Arabeth put the other bottle beside it. Melanie kept no secrets, it seemed.

  "This is asking a lot, but can you time when she has her drinks? There is a ringing in her ears, like tinnitus, that precedes any violence. We need to see if the ringing fades or worsens over time. I'd do it myself but I'm looking for the cause, so I can figure a real cure."

  Arabeth hoped Mr. Jacobs would see this as a mission of mercy - a way to contribute to the wellbeing of another, the thing that gave his work for her cousins meaning.

  He was slow to nod at first, then smiled. "If you don't mind, Betsy's room is intact. I can move out the breakables and leave the books. At least you won't be completely stuck for things to do."

  "Mr. Jacobs, thank you." Arabeth smiled. Considering what she was asking, he was the logical choice. People weren't often logical. She turned to Melanie. "I'll be back later to see how you're getting on. I hope to have more information then."

  // Chapter 10 //

  ARABETH RAISED HER arms out beside her and inhaled deeply. None of this made sense. She held her breath a moment before lowering her
arms and slowly exhaling.

  It was a little wet out for a walk. She looked up. The sky was darkening. She'd walk fast. But to where, now? Should she risk the park? Or warn the police that it was a potential source of harm?

  Was there something hidden, or disguised, at the park? Maybe there was a device under the gazebo. If it were she trying to experiment on the public, she'd move the source around often. Had any of her informants heard anything ... or been affected? They were out and about often. That was what made them good at their job. Were they warned off certain locations by others they knew?

  Suddenly, finding one of her informants became her top priority. Larry, Bernie, or maybe Lacy from the apothecary.... People may go in, looking for a way to ease their own symptoms.

  No. Later. She'd do that later. The police must know at least as much as she did by now. Did they have a plan? Who was working on it?

  A cab was nearing and she waved to catch the driver's attention. Hicks must know what's going on.

  "Take me to the main police detachment please," she said as she passed him the fare. "Wait … do you mind if I ride up front with you? It's a little unnerving to ride in the back these days. I like to see what's going on around me," she lied. Really, she was hoping he had a story or two about recent events. She held out another coin. He gave her a quick lookover and nodded. When he took the coin, she grabbed the mounting rail and pulled herself up to sit.

  She let the cab roll on a street or two before breaking the silence.

  "Horses are amazing, right. They're pretty smart, I'm told. Is there any part of town they won't go?" She tried to sound casual, like horses were a natural conversation choice due to their being right in front of them.

  "Yes, some of them are. Some are not. It's the ones in the middle that make the best cab horses. They go where I drive because they've learned to trust me."

  "Ah, I see." She nodded. "Do they ever give you trouble?"

  He looked at her through narrowed eyes a moment before responding. "What can I say, horses are horses. If you're asking about the fights, and drunks, and all that, I stay out of their business, but I will say business is good right now. I'll take the drinkers over non-drinkers right now, though, and that's a strange thing."

  She nodded. "Drinking takes the edge off, right? It's a complete reversal of expectations."

  He looked at her again. "Who are you?"

  She smiled. "I'm doing a bit of detective work."

  "A woman detective?" He laughed. "Isn't that a bit rough for you?"

  "Well, until last week I was a bounty hunter, so...." She gave the man a minute to digest that thought.

  "You're Mrs. Dane!" He seemed happy at the thought. "I've read about you in the papers, about your amazing capture rate. And now you're a detective? How did that happen?"

  "The bounty hunting program is being discontinued. This was a natural segue. I'm not with the police, though. And call me Barnes - my husband has passed away."

  "A detective for hire? Now there's a rare bird." He sat back, looking smug. "And you're working on this 'criminal plague,' as the papers are calling it?"

  "Sort of. I'm working more on the cause, than on the ‘who did it’ part."

  "But you have an idea who is behind it, don't you?" He turned an unexpected corner, away from the police station.

  "Where are you going?"

  "There's something you need to see."

  "What's your name?"

  "Call me Alexander."

  "Nice to meet you, Alexander."

  A couple waved at him from the side of the street, trying to hire him. He tipped his hat at them, a cue he'd already been engaged.

  "What is it you're wanting to show me?"

  "It's not much farther, and I won't go close. I'll have to point at it and you can come back if you want, on your own."

  Suddenly Marble started madly wriggling around, almost thrashing. "Stop the horses. Now!" Arabeth commanded. Opening her bag, she tried to reassure Marble, but the fox tried to leap out, pawing madly to get away. She slapped the flap back down, buckling it.

  "Sorry. Thank you for the lead." She jumped down off the seat, grabbing the cab rail to slow her descent. Running, she went in the opposite direction they had been travelling. Turned out to be a good thing she’d brought Marble, for a couple reasons.

  "Poor girl." She opened the flap and started petting her. "How about we go home?"

  She wanted to mark that spot on her map and see if it lined up with any of the other marks. This time she was going to lock herself in the lab. She'd had enough interruptions and unwelcome visitors for a while. Why couldn't they just keep pretending she lived on the moon or in some crazy, foreign land?

  Back at home, she locked the outside door and considered outright changing the locks. Too many people had keys.

  Marble was overjoyed to be home and out of the bag. She leapt out and ran a few circles around Arabeth, then darted out her tiny door. Bathroom break.

  While Marble was out, Arabeth got both of them something to eat and drink, then carried the snacks to one of the desks in her lab. Marble would come back in via her fox door.

  Back in the workshop, alone in the quiet, she felt exhausted. Sitting, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Moments later Marble jumped up in her lap and lay down. Together they sat, quietly, resting.

  The back of her mind wouldn't calm, but she was used to that. She ignored it, focusing instead on her breathing for a few minutes. Feeling relaxed overall, she then let the thoughts that had been accumulating and waiting for evaluation come forward.

  It was dark out the next time she walked out of the workshop. At some point she'd moved to a small cot in the back of the room, having moved it in for times when her husband was home and she didn't want to disturb his rest. When she was working on a new project, her tendency was to work until she fell asleep, and get up as soon as she was able. That could be a series of three- or four-hour rotations, not conducive to a solid night's rest.

  Marble jogged around, looking happy and ready to play. Arabeth's relief was palpable. Packing her satchel again, she made sure to throw in a mini-flask or two.

  A rumbling noise, like someone pushing at things, caused her to grab the nearest solid object to use as a weapon - in this case a mug - and turn toward the sound. There was more rustling, drawing her to the living room.

  As she tiptoed in, a stack of books fell off a short table in front of the couch.

  A familiar form was asleep on the couch, slowly kicking things off the coffee table as he tossed.

  "Sam?" she whispered.

  He could have knocked. Maybe he had. Her instruction to stay out just meant not coming in uninvited. Then again, why was he asleep now, too? She checked her watch. It was three a.m.? She'd slept twelve hours? How?

  She watched him sleep, perhaps a little longer than she should have. He was ... more than simply handsome. He was interesting. She’d been being defensive when she told her mother she'd marry him, but it was true she'd choose him before any other man. They'd been friends for decades and their contrasts were complementary. She didn't even mind his nagging about her spending. He had every right, coming from a background where his father spent every penny on a business that had failed in the end.

  Hicks rolled to sit up, shaking his head. "Sorry, fell asleep waiting."

  She smiled. "You have news?"

  "Probably nothing you haven't heard. The grapevine says you and Melanie had an interesting day."

  She frowned. "Right, interesting. That reminds me, I need to buy a case of whiskey next time I'm out."

  His eyebrows shot up. "Whiskey? There's a story behind that, I'm thinking."

  "Melanie needs it."

  "An entire case? For what?"

  "She's been affected by the madness, and it's temporarily cured with alcohol, in small but strong doses. I'm still puzzled as to how, or why. But I'm going to start carrying a small flask."

  "Could it be used for prevention?"

  "I th
ink so, but you're not condoning city-wide drunkenness, right?" She laughed.

  "That's the thing; the pubs are the least chaotic places lately. It's the good and sober folks that are going mad."

  She moved to sit in a chair next to him.

  "I'm suspecting short-range radio waves," Arabeth said flatly. "But I have no evidence. It's just me playing with theories."

  "Your theories are generally sound. Tell me the reasoning behind this one."

  "The dispersal equipment can be small enough to be hidden in anything, and there's no direct contact required, like if you were going to use biological influencers. Also, it's easier to control the range. And then there's Marble's reaction. There's an audio signal outside our range of hearing. The hardest part is that I have to find spots where there's no broadcast interference."

  "We should add radio stations to the map, see how they fit in."

  "Brilliant!" Arabeth jumped up and headed back to her map.

  It took Hicks a few minutes to follow, still groggy from sleep. When he walked in, she had half of them already plotted. "I think this counts as clues. I marked which frequency each station broadcasts at, as well, and it accounts for some of the crime-free areas."

  "Interesting," Hicks agreed. "This would seem to support your theory."

  "Finally, a decent clue. That's the how. Now we have to figure out the who and why of it."

  "Which radio station is closest to here?" Hicks asked.

  She pointed to a spot on the map. "It's pretty close. Halfway between here and the main police station. I wonder what would happen if they boosted their signal strength."

  "That would be an important first step to protecting as many people as possible. We'd want to ensure that no one convinces them to change their broadcast frequency as well."

  "I know the owner. I'll have a chat with him and explain things," Arabeth said.

  Hicks’s expression told her he doubted that was true.

  "Mr. Rogers is a billiards buddy of my father’s. They play twice monthly, sometimes at a club, sometimes at private venues. They occasionally used the table we have at home to work on strategy."

  "Takes it seriously, does he?"