Scotland Hard (Book 2 in the Tom & Laura Series)

by John Booth

  “I have heard so much about you, my dear,” he said enthusiastically. “It will be wonderful to add a truly talented Spellbinder to our team.”

  There was also a woman sat at the table. She turned her head to glare at Laura and Tom. She was in her late forties or early fifties and had the look of someone who had once been attractive of face, but now looked bitter and worn. Her features were delicate, but she was far too thin for Tom’s liking.

  “May I introduce my wife, the Lady Fenella,” Lord McBride informed them. “The gentleman to my right is Blane Grant, my most trusted friend and secretary to the estate, while the other gentleman is Gordon Kemp, the finest engineer and scientist that Glasgow has ever produced.”

  Tom in turn, introduced Laura and then himself. Kemp kissed Laura’s fingers delicately, causing Laura to blush. Blane Grant nodded his head and did not offer to shake hands.

  Tom felt strange making the introductions. It was not something he had ever expected to do in the company of a man who had bought him. Lady McBride offered her hand limply to him, which he took for a second, while she and Laura exchanged looks.

  They were served a sumptuous breakfast by a host of servants directed by an under-butler. The food was excellent, though Tom had never eaten square sausage or black pudding before. He was also offered a serving of haggis, but declined as the smell of it put him off.

  Tea was served at the end of the meal and Kemp turned to Laura eagerly.

  “I am told you managed to turn a group of house guests into animals using only scraps of paper and ink made from blackberry juice. That indicates a most prodigious talent.”

  “I would be happy to demonstrate exactly what I did, if Lord McBride is willing to supply me with the tools,” Laura replied as if she was discussing the weather.

  “I’ve had an urge to try to scratch my ear with my leg ever since you turned me into a dog,” McBride told her. “It is an experience I have no wish to repeat.”

  “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” Lady Fenella intoned gloomily. “That is what the Good Book tells us and only the heathen Sassenachs would turn it on its head and lavish praise on them instead.”

  “Quite so, my dear Fenella,” Lord McBride said quickly. “Perhaps you are finding this conversation tiring and would care to retire to your room?”

  “Elspeth!” Lady Fenella shouted and a lady’s maid came running into the room.

  “Yes, m,m,m,milady?” the maid stuttered. The maid was not a young woman, though not yet elderly. She had the look of someone who has found life to be a continual disappointment.

  “Help me to my feet, woman. We are going to my room where there will be less of a stench in the air.”

  The maid helped Lady Fenella to rise, though it looked to Tom as though Lady Fenella was more than capable of getting up without any assistance. If anything, the maid looked as though she might be the one needing help.

  Lady Fenella pushed Elspeth’s hands away in irritation.

  “Stop fussing me, Elspeth. You know I cannot tolerate being fussed.”

  Lady Fenella made her way out of the room without assistance, not glancing back, nor offering a word of farewell.

  “I must apologize for my wife’s behavior,” McBride said. “She was brought up as a strict Roman Catholic and has never come to terms with the Government’s acceptance of the magically talented.”

  The conversation lapsed and not another word was spoken until Lord McBride stood up to leave.

  27. Getting Closer

  James Saunders walked into the hotel lobby after a fine breakfast, spoiled only by the presence of Mick and Joe. His two henchmen had woken up miserable and upset, seeming to find the Scottish air not to their liking. It was bad enough travelling with them in the first place, but now Saunders found it was like minding children.

  With luck, the receptionist would know where the young spies were heading to next. Saunders was still hoping against hope that they did not know it was Lord McBride who had bought Tom and Laura.

  “Good morning to you, sir,” Fiona McDonald said politely as Saunders approached her desk.

  “I was wondering if you could help me. My friends, the Smith’s were staying here yesterday. They were taking two young lads to their aunt. Unfortunately, I need to contact them urgently and I don’t have their forwarding address.”

  Fiona smiled at Saunders. “God bless those two little boys, scamps indeed unless my eyes have deceived me. Their aunt is going to find them a handful and no mistake. It was so kind of Mr. and Mrs. Smith to take them all that way out of the kindness of their hearts. And we must not forget Mr. Smith’s sister’s role in this endeavor.”

  “Quite so,” Saunders told her, putting a warm smile on his face. “They do many good deeds in our little community and taking those boys up to their aunt is just another expression of the love of God they carry in their hearts. However, it is quite important that I speak to them as soon as possible on an urgent family matter.”

  Fiona looked disturbed at this news. “I do hope they have not suffered a bereavement. I lost my ain mother only last year and I have still to fully recover from it.”

  “It is a private matter,” Saunders replied gently. “But if you can help in any way…?”

  Fiona gave forth the very news that Saunders had been dreading.

  “They have gone to Laird McBride’s estate. Apparently, the boys’ aunt works there. I gave them directions for the train journey myself.”

  Saunders curtailed the impulse to punch the woman in the mouth and instead rubbed his clenched right fist with the palm of his left hand. He forced a friendly smile back onto his lips.

  Fiona continued to ruin his day.

  “The Laird was in residence in the hotel that very night with a number of guests. He left with his party just before the Smith’s asked me for directions. He might have given them a lift in his private train if he had known where they were going. Laird McBride is known for his warmth and generosity.”

  “My men and I will be booking out of the hotel this morning,” Saunders told Fiona through gritted teeth.

  “I hope that your stay was a good one and that everything met your satisfaction, sir?”

  “The lack of bedbugs was entirely satisfactory,” Saunders said as he signed the book.

  When Saunders, Joe and Mick walked out of the hotel towards the railway station, Fiona rang a little hand bell and a small man wearing a porters uniform appeared from a room at the back and walked over to her.

  “Tell the maids to remove the bed sheets immediately from rooms 15 and 44 and then to clean the rooms especially carefully. The English gentlemen staying in them may have brought bedbugs into the hotel.”

  “Aye, that would be just like the English, bringing their heathen bugs into bonnie Scotland,” the man replied contemptuously.

  “Would ye be part of the McBride party?” the man in the ticket office asked after Arnold asked for rail tickets to the McBride estate.

  “I’m sorry,” Cam broke in before Arnold had the chance to say no. “We might well be, could you explain what you mean?”

  The man looked exasperatedly at Arnold, as if blaming him personally for Cam’s unwarranted interruption.

  “Are ye part of the party of new recruits for Laird McBride’s factory on his estate?” he said, as if explaining to a young child.

  Cam responded before Arnold could answer.

  “Yes we are. My brother Arnold has been recruited to work for Lord McBride. He has received a First Class Honors Degree in Engineering from Cambridge University. Since our mother died last month; Arnold is the sole breadwinner in our family and we are in desperate need of the money.”

  “My condolences for the loss of your mother,” the man said respectfully. “I expect looking after such a large brood must have put a great strain on the poor woman.”

  “She was run over by a London tram,” Cam said straight-faced, unable to resist embellishing the story. “We had to have a closed coffin at her wak
e as the tram wheels cut her into three pieces.”

  Daisy choked as she tried to stop herself from bursting out laughing and Arnold had to pat her back quite hard before she recovered.

  “I did not mean to cause any distress,” the man said quickly, thinking Daisy was upset.

  “Daisy was very close to our mother,” Cam said confidentially to him.

  “Aye, daughters often are,” the man agreed.

  “Oh no,” Cam continued in a somber voice. “She was quite close to Mother when the tram struck. Mother’s blood splashed all over her frock and she had to run to stop Mother’s head from rolling away down the cobbles.”

  Daisy wailed, turning her laughter into the nearest appropriate sound. She doubled over in silent heaving laughter, unable to compose herself.

  The man in the ticket office ignored the normal rules for checking on passengers to the McBride estate, as he was desperate not to set Daisy off again.

  “There is no charge for your tickets. The Laird’s estate is footing the bill. You’ll find your train waiting on platform three.”

  The man passed over five tickets hurriedly. Cam and Arnold helped a bent over Daisy out of the office while Ebb and Tricky followed behind them, looking more than a little bemused at the antics of the adults.

  “Camilla Burns, don’t you ever do that again without giving me advanced notice,” Daisy demanded as soon as they were outside. “When you put in the bit about the mother’s head rolling down the street I thought I was going to die trying to stop myself laughing out loud.”

  “You have made everything so complicated,” Arnold complained. “What shall we do if that man reports us to the people organizing this train?”

  “I hope he does,” Cam said unrepentantly. “What better reason could we have for going to the estate than joining McBride’s workforce? I shall expect you to play along with this story from now on Arnold. I don’t know what you are complaining about; I just gave you a degree from one of the most prestigious universities in the world.”

  “Yes you did, didn’t you? A degree in Engineering,” Arnold hissed at her furiously. “What do I know about engineering?”

  Camilla dismissed his concern with a casual wave of her hand.

  “You are a male, you played with toy trains as a child, I am sure. What more can there be to it than that? What is an engineer, but a boy who never grew up?”

  “Are you part of Laird McBride’s party?” an officious young man with a clipboard asked as they descended the ironwork footbridge onto Platform Three.

  Cam jumped in again before Arnold could reply.

  “Yes, Arnold Smith, and family. Arnold has been awarded a first class degree in engineering from Cambridge.”

  The man looked down at the list of names on his clipboard. He ran his finger over the list three times.

  “You aren’t on here. Who recruited you? Was it Angus McKinnon?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Yes, that was the man. He promised Arnold great things if he came,” Daisy interjected cheerfully. Cam glared at her, but said nothing.

  “Angus is always forgetting to send in his paperwork,” their interrogator said, clearly annoyed. “I’ll write you in at the bottom of the list. This train is going directly to the estate. The Laird has chartered it for that very purpose. Everybody on it will be joining the workforce. We have been recruiting heavily over the last few months.”

  The five clambered onto the train and found an empty compartment. Arnold glared at Cam as soon as they sat down, mainly because her idea was working out so well for them. Cam smiled sweetly back at him.

  The train had barely started to pull out of the station when a harassed looking man in his middle twenties opened their compartment door and helped a young woman carrying a baby through it.

  “You don’t mind if we join you?” he asked somewhat desperately. “We were late reaching the train and it seems to be full.”

  “Please join us,” Arnold offered graciously. “Ebb, Tricky, go and sit on the other side with Cam and Daisy.”

  It was a bit of a squeeze in the small compartment, but they all found somewhere to sit.

  “I do apologize for not formally introducing us,” the man said once they were all sat down, “If I may do so now?”

  Arnold nodded in a friendly fashion.

  “I am Josiah Green and this is my wife, Elsie, and our daughter Jane, though she is a little young to be introduced to anyone as she is only six months old. I am a carpenter by trade and have recently taken up full time employment with Lord McBride. We hail from the city of Birmingham where I was born and took my apprenticeship.”

  Cam gave Arnold a hard look as he stood up to make his side of the introductions. This was moment where it was important he lied convincingly.

  “I am Arnold Smith and this is my spinster elder sister, Camilla, and my younger sister Daisy. The two boys are my younger brothers, Ebenezer and David, though we always call David, Tricky. I have a …,” Arnold paused in embarrassment at the lie he was about to tell and then continued quickly before Cam could butt in. “A degree in Engineering from Cambridge University. I am also taking up employment with Lord McBride today, which is why my family and I are on this train.”

  “A first class honors degree,” Cam said gloatingly.

  “I am truly privileged to meet you and your family, sir,” Josiah said, sounding a little awestruck. “I have always been fascinated by the science of steam engines and there are so many questions I would like to ask about them. I have never been able to grasp the difference between heat and temperature, despite all my readings on the subject and I am hoping you might be able to explain it to me?”

  “Perhaps if you tell us what you know, my brother will be able to give you further explanations where required,” Cam said smoothly. Arnold was already looking worried.

  “I have read Brewer’s Guide to Science and he talks about the caloric theory of heat flow as proposed by Carnot, a Frenchman I believe. That is, as I understand it, that there is a chemical of some kind that conveys warmth from one substance to another. But I have also recently read the Scotsman, James Prescott Joule’s claims that heat and work are one and the same thing, and that one may be readily converted into the other. I have certainly felt the heat generated on my lathe when I have been cutting wood. Which of the two theories do you believe to be true?”

  “If it is a question of whether a Frenchman or a Britain is more likely to be correct in any matter of science, I think we can have no doubt that our own James Joule’s theory is correct,” Arnold said decisively. “As you have said, you have felt his effects in action yourself.”

  This brought an appreciative laugh from Josiah and the other adults in the room.

  “But I still cannot grasp the difference between Heat and Temperature,” Josiah continued when the laughter had died away. “Perhaps you could explain?”

  28. Plots

  “Now then you two, bide with me here a wee while as I need to speak privately with you,” McBride told Laura and Tom as everyone stood at the end of breakfast.

  “I’ll bring them along to your laboratory soon enough, Gordon, dinna fret yourself,” he said to Kemp, who looked as though he was waiting for Laura. Kemp nodded and turned on his heels to walk smartly out of the room,

  Lord McBride looked Tom and Laura up and down as if seeing them for the first time.

  “I had you come down here to see how you would behave. The guests at my table have no idea at all that I purchased you, Mr. Carter, at an auction and have borrowed Miss Young from the Hungarians. My guests think you have been sent here by MM1 in response to my requests for further magical assistance.”

  “They would not have believed us if they were innocent, and if they are guilty it would have served no purpose,” Laura responded curtly. “Do not take us for fools, Lord McBride.”

  “And what possible use would I have for fools?” McBride answered calmly, undisturbed by Laura’s tone. “I would not have paid good money for a Hea
ler if I did not have great need, and I would not involve myself with kidnappers and Hungarian spies in the first place if I could have obtained the services of a Class A legitimately.”

  “I thought I was only along so that you could control Laura,” Tom stated coldly.

  “Aye, that was in my thoughts too. However, I have two sick men that you might be able to heal and that would be a bonus and no mistake.”

  “And I suppose you purchased Alice because of your love of telepaths,” Laura said sarcastically.

  For the first time, McBride looked irritated.

  “I buy whatever I need to achieve my purpose. You would do well to remember that, lassie.”

  “Well, this has been an interesting conversation. We must do it again some time,” Laura said. She began to walk towards the door.

  “Do not rile me, lassie, or your young man here will feel the taste of the whip.” The sudden menace in McBride’s voice startled Tom. It was as if someone had thrown a switch and the man turned into someone else, someone decidedly less friendly.

  Laura turned to face McBride showing no anxiety on her face.

  “Then what exactly do you want of us?”

  “I shall take you to Gordon’s laboratory in a few moments. He is in charge of the preparation of the material. You will meet a man there, Giles Summers. He is a Grade 1 Spellbinder who has been assisting us in our work. He will direct you on specific details on the tasks we require of you as a Spellbinder.”

  McBride turned to face Tom. “Giles is sick and you, boy, will see if you can heal him.”

  “And if I choose not to assist you in your endeavors?” Laura asked, her blue eyes suddenly looking as cold as ice.

  “Then we shall see how many stripes I have to put upon your young man’s back before you deem to change your mind. I ken that healers cannot heal themselves and I should tell you that we only have a Grade 4 healer on the estate. You know how healers are in demand for the armed forces and I could get no better.”