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The Complete 1st Freak House Trilogy: Box set (The 1st Freak House Trilogy)

Page 33

by C. J. Archer


  Langley grunted. "What is it you want, Weeks?"

  "I wanted to ask you, sirs, if you knew where we could find Mr. Tate's associates? One of them may know where Tate is hiding."

  "We told you last time," Langley said. "We don't know anyone who knows him."

  "What about his staff?"

  "We only know of Ham."

  "What about household staff? Sometimes people like you, sir, don't notice the servants, but a footmen or maid can hear and see a lot that goes on in a house."

  "His housekeeper!" I said. "She opened the door for us that day. Has no one spoken to her, Inspector?"

  He removed a notebook from his inside coat pocket and flipped the pages. "Let's see, the only member of staff interviewed by Scotland Yard was a Mrs. Dodd. Is that her?"

  Langley sucked air through his teeth.

  "Sir?" Weeks prompted. "Do you know her?"

  Langley gave a brief shake of his head and waved the inspector's question away.

  "Miss Smith?" Weeks said to me. "Was she the housekeeper?"

  "I don't know," I said.

  "Must be her. It says housekeeper here. Did you see no one else while you were there?"

  "No," Sylvia said and I shook my head too.

  "If Mrs. Dodd has already been interviewed, why the need to speak to others?" Jack asked.

  "Because she was interviewed before Tate's escape, not after."

  "Why not after?"

  "They tried, but she'd moved on and they couldn't locate her."

  Langley slammed his palm down on his wheelchair arm. "Incompetence is everywhere. How hard did they look?"

  "August," Jack warned.

  Weeks held up his hands. "Don't ask me, sir. Not my jurisdiction. I was sent a telegram to ask you about associates and staff. Seems you can't help."

  "Surely they need to continue to look for the housekeeper," I said.

  "It probably doesn't matter. Unlikely Tate told her where he was going to hide after breaking free from prison. I was hoping Mr. Langley here might have remembered an older associate, someone who's been with Tate since those days, or a valet perhaps. Valets are interesting. They get told things that a gentleman won't even tell his family."

  "I don't know his staff," Langley ground out.

  "You need to find the housekeeper," Sylvia said.

  Jack nodded. "We'll look for her."

  "Don't be absurd," Sylvia scoffed. "It's Scotland Yard's job to do that. Tell him, Uncle."

  "I think Jack has a point. We can't rely on the police to find her."

  "Now, sir, I must protest." But Weeks snapped his mouth shut upon Langley's glare.

  I said nothing. I agreed with Jack. Scotland Yard might look for Mrs. Dodd, but they moved at a snail's pace. Having a demon on the loose made leaving Frakingham impossible, however. Not only that, Jack wouldn't leave me in case Ham and Tate made another attempt to kidnap me. I saw no choice but to let the police do their job.

  "It's unlikely she can offer any answers," Weeks said again.

  He was most likely right, but the niggling thought that she may know something remained. The name of a friend living nearby, a house once rented in Hertfordshire. And at the moment, that hope was all we had. I could see in Jack's eyes that he already felt invigorated by this new direction.

  "May we have her last known address, please?" Jack said.

  "I shouldn't."

  "Look into my eyes, Inspector," Samuel said in his smooth, melodic voice. Weeks did as ordered, without blinking. Blankness shuttered his gaze, slackened his jaw. "Listen to me. Give Jack the address." Samuel snapped his fingers and Weeks blinked. He ripped out a page of his notebook and handed it over.

  "Thank you," Jack said. Whether he was thanking Samuel or Weeks was difficult to tell. "We appreciate you coming up here to speak to us, Inspector."

  Weeks put his hat on his head. "I'm only sorry you couldn't help me."

  Tommy opened the front door. "Any sign of the dog?" Jack called to Constable Jones, standing by the horses.

  "No, sir."

  The policemen mounted and rode off. Once they were out of sight, we returned inside.

  "Surely Mrs. Dodd won't know where to find Tate," Sylvia said. "She was only his housekeeper after all."

  Jack shot a glance at Bollard of all people. "You'd be surprised at how much some staff know."

  "That you would," Tommy muttered.

  "That will be all, Tommy," Langley snapped.

  Tommy sighed and trudged off. Sylvia watched him go, her cheeks pink and steam practically rising from her ears. Langley, in turn, watched her.

  "He forgets his place sometimes," she said to nobody in particular.

  "Leave him be, Syl," said Jack.

  I moved to the window, but the policemen had already disappeared around the bend in the drive. "Even if Mrs. Dodd can't tell us where to find Tate, perhaps she can tell us more about him. His habits, his state of mind, anything that might give us a clue to his whereabouts."

  "It's a slim chance, but we have to take it," Jack said. "There are no other options. I'll leave today."

  "Take Hannah with you," said Langley.

  "I intend to."

  Sylvia held up her hands for silence. "Have you both gone mad? Hannah can't go. It's much too dangerous for her out there with Tate on the loose. And what about the other demon? With Jack gone, who will protect us?"

  "Hannah's safest with me, and I'm going to London to find Mrs. Dodd. Besides, Frakingham isn't much of a haven for her right now. If she leaves without Tate knowing, we have the upper hand."

  "That doesn't help those of us who must face his wrath once he realizes he's been tricked."

  "Tommy will be here, and Samuel and Olsen. Everyone will be armed. We saw the effect gunfire had on the demon, perhaps it will work on Ham too."

  "I doubt it," she muttered. "It didn't run away from the fire in Tate's factory. If it wasn't afraid of fire like the other demon, it may not be afraid of bullets either."

  She had a point. One that got us all thinking until Samuel spoke. "I'll come to London too."

  Jack shook his head. "You're needed here."

  "I agree," Langley put in.

  "Hear me out," Samuel said. "If Mrs. Dodd proves loyal to Tate and won't answer questions, I can hypnotize her."

  Langley grunted. "You have to find her first."

  "It's worth a try," Sylvia said.

  I watched Samuel, trying to gauge if he did indeed want to hypnotize anyone. He'd seemed quite upset at having to do it to Weeks. It was difficult to tell, however. I suspected he was as much a master of hiding his true emotions as he was of charming people.

  "That leaves only Tommy here." Jack shook his haed. "I'm not sure I like those odds."

  "There'll also be Olsen and Bollard," Samuel said. "And Langley. They're all capable of firing a weapon or using fire."

  But what if those things weren't enough? I didn't want to voice my concerns. For one thing, Sylvia was terrified enough. She was already repeating her protest for a second time.

  "We won't be gone long," Samuel told her. "A few days at most."

  "You must return in three days," Langley said. "Even if you don't find her. Understand, Jack?"

  "We'll find her," Jack said. "I don't want to stay away longer than necessary anyway. It's too dangerous."

  Langley nodded, apparently satisfied. He signaled to his man to wheel him away.

  "I also want to see Culvert while we're there," Jack said.

  "That reminds me," I said. "Did you discover anything in the trench?"

  "As a matter of fact, yes."

  Langley paused near the arched doorway and Bollard turned him around to face us. "What did you find?"

  Jack pulled a medallion out of his pocket and handed it to his uncle. "It was half buried in the dirt near the dungeon entrance."

  Langley turned it over in his palm and ran the pad of his thumb around the edge. It was flat and round with a star carved in the middle. "It's made of
bronze and the workmanship is crude. It looks old."

  Sylvia stood over him and peered down at the medallion. "There's a small hole at the edge. Perhaps it was attached to a chain or strap. It may have been worn as a necklace. Any idea how old it is?"

  Nobody did. "We can have an expert look at it in London," Samuel suggested.

  "I want to take it to Culvert first," Jack said. "I think it was used to bring the demon here."

  I accepted the flat disc and studied it. "He did mention amulets and incantations. Is that another term for curse?"

  "I believe so, in this context."

  "I wonder how the demon got into the dungeon."

  "I don't know." Jack nodded at the amulet. "But this proves that someone deliberately summoned it."

  Sylvia gasped. "Good lord. Who would do such a thing? Tate? Why when he already has Ham?"

  It was a very good question. None of us had an answer.

  CHAPTER 10

  Jack and Samuel rode on the driver's seat, leaving me inside the carriage on my own. I slept some of the way, read for a while, or simply stared out the window at the passing scenery—after we'd left Frakingham well behind, that is. They'd wanted me to keep the curtains closed until we were on the main London road in case Tate and Ham were watching.

  We stayed overnight at an inn and arrived the next morning at the last known address of Mrs. Dodd. It was a large, white house in the exclusive suburb of Kensington. I was surprised that she had been living in such a magnificent place, until I realized that she would have lived in the servants' area. It wasn't her house, but that of her new employers. I wondered why she hadn't stayed in service there very long since it was quite the step up from keeping house for a mad scientist.

  We soon found out that she hadn't been employed there at all.

  "Her sister is," said the maid who answered our knock at the service entrance. The Kensington house was built in an older style with the servants' area in the basement below street level. It had its own set of stairs beside the main ones. We'd decided to speak to the servants and not go through the family at all. It proved a good idea. The maid was quite talkative. "Mrs. Perry is the housekeeper here," she said. "When that Mrs. Dodd turned up two weeks back, Mrs. Perry took her in. Much to the butler's disgust, mind. It's against the rules to have people to stay, see. But Mrs. Dodd, she says she's desperate, and it'll only be for a few days until she can find her feet."

  "When did she leave?" I asked.

  "Just a few days after she arrived, true to her word."

  "Do you know where she went?" Jack asked.

  "No."

  I looked to Samuel. He gave a slight shake of his head. He wouldn't hypnotize her. Like me, he must think the maid knew nothing of Mrs. Dodd's current whereabouts. Or perhaps he simply didn't want to do it.

  "May we speak to Mrs. Perry?" I asked.

  "I'll fetch her." She went to walk off, but thought better of it. "Who are you then? You ain't police," she said with a jerk of her chin at me. Women weren't allowed on the police force.

  "We're private enquiry agents," I said. "Our client would like to find Mrs. Dodd to settle a…private matter."

  That seemed to satisfy her and she headed off down the corridor, leaving us standing in the doorway. "Private enquiry agent?" Jack said, a smile twitching his lips.

  "It seemed like an interesting occupation. I've always wanted to be one ever since reading Poe's Murders in the Rue Morgue."

  Jack and Samuel both laughed. "I don't know why you brought me along," Samuel said. "You seem to be able to get people to talk on your own, Hannah."

  "Shhh," I whispered. "Here she comes."

  Mrs. Perry was a short, stocky woman who puffed as she walked. The great bunch of keys dangling from her waist jangled with each rolling step. I wondered how she coped working in such a large house, but then again most of the laborious tasks would have been done by the maids.

  "Why are you asking after my sister?" she said before she reached us. A deep line cut her forehead in half as if continuous frowning had worn a permanent groove there. She had a mouth set like a bulldog, turned down at the corners and disappearing into the folds of her chin.

  "She's all yours, Gladstone," Jack muttered.

  "Grouchy old matrons are my specialty," Samuel said without moving his lips. He bowed to the housekeeper and when he straightened, he had one of his most charming smiles in place.

  "What're you smiling at me like that for?" Mrs. Perry snapped. "I haven't got time for boys like you who think they can pull the wool over the eyes of the likes of me. State your business and move on."

  I tried not to laugh, but a snigger escaped despite my best efforts.

  "Something amusing, Miss?"

  I gulped and my laughter caught in my throat, choking me. I spluttered and coughed, and my eyes watered. Mrs. Perry clicked her tongue and turned back to Samuel. She forked her brows and said, "Well?"

  "I, uh…" He cleared his throat.

  "We want to speak to your sister," Jack said, taking over after all.

  "She's not here." Mrs. Perry went to close the door.

  Jack stepped over the threshold and pressed his hand to the door. "Do you know where we can find her?"

  All four of her chins shook with indignation. "Does this have something to do with that man she kept house for?"

  "Yes."

  "He's in jail, and she's well rid of him. Whatever he did, it's nothing to do with her. That's what I told the police. Good day."

  Jack did not let go of the door. "We still need to speak to her. Tate has escaped and—"

  "Escaped!" She rubbed her hand over her mouth and blinked at Jack. "Why didn't the police tell me?"

  "They didn't think it necessary."

  "Fools," she spat. "Her life may be in danger."

  "Why? Does she know something important?"

  "I doubt it, but the fellow was mad. Who knows what he's capable of."

  "We need to speak to her," I said. "We need to know where Tate is now."

  "Why?"

  "He wants to kidnap Miss Smith." Jack nodded at me. "We need to stop him before he gets to her."

  She looked at each of us in turn, rubbing her jaw some more. "I don't see how talking to my sister can help you. Having you or the police poking about will draw attention and endanger her life. I can't have that."

  Jack leaned closer, using his superior height to intimidate. She did not shrink away. She looked like the sturdy sort who would meet an oncoming train with a scowl and crossed arms. "Mrs. Perry, listen to me," he said. "This is important."

  "Jack." Samuel placed a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Let me speak to her." The change in his voice and demeanor was remarkable. It was as if he'd turned on the charm like water from a tap. There was an odd look in his eyes too. The blueness had softened and somehow deepened. I felt like I could fall into them, and he wasn't even looking at me.

  Jack poked my shoulder to get my attention. There was no spark, and I felt no surge of heat—it wasn't a sensual touch, but a warning. He indicated I should step behind Samuel and I did. I instantly felt more in control of myself and not quite so dazed, although tiredness still pulled at me. Indeed, I'd not been able to shake the tiredness all week.

  Jack's glare was unrelenting and off-putting. He didn't seem at all affected by Samuel's hypnotic voice. I looked away and listened to Samuel as he spoke to Mrs. Perry. Now that I wasn't gazing into his eyes, I could appreciate the deep, rich cadence of his voice. It washed over me like warm milk, made me want to capture it somehow and hold it.

  Jack poked me again. Stop listening, he mouthed.

  I can't, I mouthed back. The pull of Samuel's voice was remarkably strong. Fortunately it changed as he asked his first question.

  "Tell me where Mrs. Dodd is."

  "She got a new position," intoned Mrs. Perry. Her eyes were huge as she stared back at Samuel. "Housekeeper for a Mr. and Mrs. Gearsley."

  "The address?"

  "Number twenty Patterson S
treet, Hampstead."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Perry. Now, when you wake—"

  "Come inside, dear sir." Mrs. Perry took Samuel's hand and pulled him toward her. She used such force that he lost his balance and ended up in her arms. He tried to extricate himself, but Mrs. Perry had quite the hold around his waist. "Let me fetch you some cake and tea."

  "Uh, thank you, but no."

  "Come now, dear boy." She rubbed his back. Samuel wrenched himself free. He took a step away, almost knocking me over.

  "When you wake you'll remember nothing," he said quickly. He clicked his fingers. "Wake up!"

  Mrs. Perry blinked slowly. For a fleeting moment she appeared quite dazed, then her eyes focused on Samuel. Her bulldog jowls wobbled. "Are you still here? Be off with you."

  "Yes, of course." Samuel bowed. "Thank you, Mrs. Perry."

  She grunted and shut the door.

  Samuel fidgeted with his tie and blew out a measured breath. "Let's go."

  I kept my laughter in until we'd rounded the corner and I could control it no longer. "Does that always happen?" I said between giggles.

  Samuel's face had gone red to the roots of his fair hair. "Not every single time."

  "But a lot?"

  He nodded and avoided my gaze. He was walking very fast, but Jack was walking faster up ahead. I had to trot to keep up with them both. "That was highly amusing," I said. "I wonder what would have happened if you'd not ended the session."

  "I'm glad I provided some amusement in these dark days," Samuel said. He appeared to be fighting a smile, but when he glanced sideways at me, he lost the battle. "I'm going to have nightmares for a week now."

  "So if you can do that without a swaying object, why did you use that disc on me in Dr. Werner's rooms?"

  "It's just a prop. People expect me to use one, Dr. Werner included. It makes them feel more comfortable when I conform to their image of what a hypnotist should do."

  Jack stopped and swung round. He wasn't laughing. Indeed, he looked furious.

  "Jack?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

  He pointed back the way we'd come. "That! I can't believe—" He shook his head, spun on his heel, and strode off again, faster than before.

 

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