by C. J. Archer
"I know you think Dotty killed Emmett," May said with a troubled frown. "But treat her gently. She's with child
"You think I'd manhandle a woman?" Matt asked.
May gave a small shrug. "You've been rough with Danny."
"As far as I'm aware, he's not a woman."
Danny laughed nervously. "Some say she does wear the trousers in our relationship."
May glared at him and his smile vanished.
"One more thing," Matt said. "Where were you really on the night of Emmett's death?"
"Walking with Danny," she said without missing a beat. "I believe he told you that, Mr. Glass."
Matt's lips thinned. "I'll make a guess and say you didn't see anyone on your walk except a drunk or two who wouldn't remember you, even if we managed to find them."
"That would be a good guess."
I didn't believe her, and nor did Matt. "She didn't accompany him on his walk," I said as we returned to the carriage.
"He didn't go for a walk," he said.
I gave Dotty's address to the driver and we climbed in. Matt removed his hat and raked his hand through his hair, leaving it delightfully tousled.
"May could be setting Dotty up to take the blame for Emmett's murder," he said, staring out of the window. "She gave us the address too readily."
"And mentioned her jealousy. Why wait until now to place the blame on her?"
"Because she just realized she's the prime suspect in the murder. That's why she admitted everything—the cheating, the blackmail—and wants to shift blame to someone else. Dotty's the most obvious alternative."
"Do you think May is innocent?"
"Not in the least, but I'm not sure she's guilty of murder, either." He hadn't turned from the window during our conversation. Either he was particularly interested in the scenery or he was avoiding looking at me.
"Are you all right?" I asked, taking his arm.
"Fine."
"You're still thinking about Fabian Charbonneau."
"I am."
"We should talk about the possibility of me being a spell caster and what it means." I hugged his arm.
"Not here."
I sighed. He was right; it wasn't the best place, and we were almost at Dotty's, but it did feel as though he was avoiding the conversation. I could hardly blame him when I had avoided the conversation for so long too.
"Later, then."
He put his arm around my shoulders. "Later."
Dotty's landlady hadn't seen her since she left the house on the previous Thursday evening—the night Danny was murdered. "I'm quite worried about her," she said as she stood in the doorway of her modest terrace house. "It's been almost a week."
"Did she take her things?" Matt asked.
The landlady's gaze narrowed. "Why do you ask?"
"We're trying to find her."
"Why? Who are you?"
"My name is Matthew Glass, and this is India Steele. We're private inquiry agents helping Scotland Yard in the murder of Emmett Cocker."
"Murder!" She clutched her throat. "That's nothing to do with Dotty. She's a good girl."
"We only want to ask her some questions about him," I said.
"I don't believe you do work for Scotland Yard. When I reported her missing they said nothing about her involvement in a murder." She tried to close the door but Matt put his hand against it. The landlady slipped further behind the door and peered around it at us.
"Can we take a look at her room?" Matt asked.
"Certainly not. If the police want to look through it then they may do so. Not you."
We left her and drove to the Victoria Embankment, but Brockwell wasn't in his office. One of the constables said he was making inquiries all day and wasn't expected back at New Scotland Yard until late afternoon. He suggested we return tomorrow.
"Doesn't he want to solve this damn murder?" Matt muttered as we returned to the carriage.
I quickened my pace to keep up with his long strides. "I'm sure his inquiries are important too. Be fair, Matt. He can't be everywhere at once."
His only response was to lengthen his strides more.
Our journey home was conducted in silence. I was acutely aware of him sitting beside me, staring out the window, his temper simmering away just beneath the surface. I suspected one little word would set it off, so I didn't speak. I'd wait for his temper to cool and his reason to return.
When we arrived home, and I finally looked at him, I was surprised to see that he hadn't been brooding at all. He'd been sleeping. That worried me more.
"Matt, wake up," I said, shaking him gently.
He frowned sleepily and looked through the window. Then without a word, he opened the door and offered me his hand.
"Are you unwell?" I asked, stepping out.
"No."
"But—"
"I'm fine, India. I just need to use my watch."
My stomach dropped and an immense weight pressed down on me. "But…my spell, and Gabe's…they're no longer working?"
He clasped my hand. "It has been several weeks since I needed to use the watch. This is normal. It's how it was last time after Chronos and Dr. Parsons performed their magic."
"Oh."
"I expected to use it every few weeks. At least it's not every few hours." He managed a smile.
He was right; I shouldn't be worried. Yet part of me had hoped that my spell would be strong enough that he wouldn't need to use the watch again for some time—perhaps ever. I was a fool to think my magic was that powerful.
Clearly Fabian and the others were wrong about me.
We were surprised to find Catherine and Ronnie Mason waiting for us in the drawing room, though not as surprised as Cyclops, who arrived home five minutes later. Once the shock wore off, however, he glowered at me as if I had invited her and deliberately not told him.
"Catherine and Ronnie were here when Matt and I got home," I said huffily. "Come in and sit down, Cyclops. They were just about to tell us their news."
"I don't think that's wise," Cyclops said. "I should go."
"Do stop avoiding me," Catherine said snippily.
"I'm…" He swallowed beneath her stern glare and plopped down on the nearest chair.
"That's better. I don't like that you're avoiding me, Nate. Not now, when I need your wisdom and broad shoulders to lean on."
Cyclops's face lifted. He seemed quite pleased to hear her refer to his shoulders as broad. Her brother simply stared at her, unblinking.
"Is this about the guild?" Cyclops asked.
She sighed. "It is. We've just come from the hall where we had a meeting with Mr. Abercrombie. He informed us we couldn't use any of your stock, India, if we are to obtain a license."
"He was here yesterday," I said. "They added new rules to the guild's constitution forbidding members to sell stock made by magicians. I am sorry. We should have immediately informed you."
"You've been busy, I understand. But what are we to do?"
"Nothing," Ronnie grumbled. "We can't afford to buy stock at full price. Not the amount we're going to need."
"You can still use the tools and other equipment," I said, looking to Matt.
"And I'm going to give you an interest-free loan," he added.
Catherine gasped.
Ronnie began to shake his head then stopped. He got up and offered his hand to Matt. "Thank you, sir. I was about to refuse but that would be foolish. We'll take you up on your offer."
"That's not wise," Matt said, shaking his hand. "Not without asking questions first. There could have been conditions attached."
Ronnie's face fell. "Are there?"
"No, but you should still have asked."
"I will, next time I'm offered a business deal that seems too good to be true."
Catherine threw her arms around me. "I'm hugging you because it would be inappropriate to hug Matt," she said.
I laughed. "I like to think I had something to do with it, but it was all his idea." I pulled away and
felt awful for what I was about to say. I didn't want to dampen her spirits. "Abercrombie won't make it easy for you to get your license, Ronnie. He made it very clear the test will be so difficult that you'll fail."
"Don't worry about me," he said smugly. "I'll be prepared."
"His knowledge is very good," Catherine said. "He'll do well at the written part of the test, and the practical part shouldn't be a problem, either. He's been fixing timepieces for years."
I hoped she was right, but I wasn't so confident. There were older styles of clocks that the Masons would never have seen before in their shop, ones with complicated, outdated mechanisms.
I walked Catherine and Ronnie out, but Catherine excused herself. "I left my reticule behind."
A moment later, Matt emerged from the drawing room, leaving Cyclops and Catherine alone. When Ronnie realized, he looked somewhat caught between fetching his sister and leaving them to their privacy. To help make up his mind, I took his arm and led him down the stairs.
"You must practice between now and when you sit the test," I told him.
"I will."
"Every day, several hours a day."
"I haven't got several hours. I have to help in Father's shop."
"Then you must sacrifice your spare time."
"I will, India."
"Even if it means losing sleep."
He screwed up his nose. "If I'm tired, I won't be able to think properly."
"It'll only be temporary, but this is very important, Ronnie. Mr. Abercrombie and the other Court of Assistants members will want you to fail, and they'll give you very difficult questions to answer and near impossible tasks to complete. You must be prepared."
He patted my hand. "I'll be fine."
"I don't think you understand the depth of Mr. Abercrombie's hatred of me. He'll delight in seeing you fail. Failing you is the closest he can get to failing me."
"Don't worry. He might want me to fail, but not everyone there does. Some are friends of my father's. They won't let Abercrombie get away with dubious tactics."
"India is just nervous," Matt said. "She thinks she's sitting the test herself."
Ronnie laughed.
"I wish I could sit it for you," I said.
Catherine came down the stairs without Cyclops. She wasn't smiling, but there was a light to her eyes, a rosy glow on her cheeks. Well, well.
Her brother didn't seem to notice, however, as he and Matt had a brief discussion about paperwork for the loan. I studied Catherine as her gaze wandered back up the staircase. She sighed deeply when it became obvious Cyclops wasn't going to join us.
"I wonder what they spoke about," I said after we shut the door on the Mason siblings.
"You are not going to ask him," Matt said. "It's none of our business."
I chewed the inside of my lip.
"India," he warned.
"Don't you need to use your watch? You look tired. I'm going to find Miss Glass to see if there's anything she needs."
I left him and went in search of his aunt. I found her in her room, writing letters. She didn't need me. After a quick check of the rest of the house, I headed outside to the mews and found Cyclops in the stables, mucking out a stall.
"Did you give the stable boy the afternoon off again?" I asked.
He and Duke had a habit of coming out here to work when they needed to exorcise their demons. The physical exertion seemed to soothe them. Willie could often be found out here with them, sitting on the trough edge, giving orders. Cyclops was alone today, however.
"I know why you're here," he said, before I could speak. "And there ain't nothing to say that you haven't already heard. Nothing's changed."
"Did Catherine want it to change? Is that why she spoke to you?"
He scrubbed a patch of the floor with the broom, the rhythmic swish of bristles on stone a not unpleasant background noise. "She apologized for snapping at me."
"And?"
His strokes became more vigorous, the rhythm erratic. "She said she was annoyed with me for abandoning her when she needed me the most."
"That's actually rather sweet. I can see why it upset her that you'd run off at the first sight of her. She does need you now, Cyclops, even if it's just as a friend. Abercrombie and the guild are a formidable foe, and she's a young woman. Going up against them is intimidating."
"She's capable," he said.
"That doesn't mean she wants her friends to leave her to it."
"I told her I'd be at her side, no matter what. That she can count on me."
"Then what's the problem? Why are you scrubbing the top layer off that area of the floor?"
He stopped and leaned on the broom handle. "She kissed me."
"Oh. I see." I smiled. "That is good news."
His gaze lifted to mine. "Why?"
"Because I see that you liked it or it wouldn't be bothering you so much."
"You don't understand, India."
"I do understand. You've given me two reasons why you can't be together." I held up a finger. "Someone in America wants you dead. But that's in America, not here." I held up another finger. "And her family don't want her to be with a man who isn't like them."
"They're worried about her. Worried about people treating her differently. And so am I."
"That's something you can conquer together. I won't pretend it'll be easy, but if you have one another, you'll get through anything."
He shook his head and began sweeping the same spot on the floor again. "It's too hard."
"The harder it is, the sweeter it will be when you finally give in to love." I patted his arm. "I know Catherine, and I suspect she won't give up on you easily."
"That's why I've got to be cool to her. I can't let her see what I really think of her." He bent his back and put his shoulder into one hard sweep of the broom. "I can't let her know I liked that kiss."
Going by Catherine's smile as she left, I'd say he failed.
The strange mood that had come over Matt since the meeting with Fabian and Chronos lingered through dinner and into the evening. He did look less tired after using his watch, though, thank goodness. While Willie, Duke and Cyclops decided to go out, he sat silently by the unlit fireplace, staring at the grate.
Once we were alone, I perched on the arm of his chair and stroked his hair. "You're still mad at me for not telling you about Fabian, aren't you?"
He peered up at me through thick black lashes and my heart tumbled over with a thud. I could stare into those warm eyes all night. "I admit I was upset, but I know how you feel," he said. "Overwhelmed describes it aptly." He pulled me onto his lap. "I think we both need a distraction tonight."
My smile started slowly then spread, matching the blush that crept up my throat and warmed my cheeks. "I like being distracted by you."
He kissed me softly, his lips pillowing mine. His hands splayed at my lower back, pinning me against him. I sighed when he broke the kiss. It had been too brief.
"But I wasn't referring to that kind of distraction," he added, his eyes smoky.
"Oh."
His grin was lopsided. "But I'm seriously rethinking my evening plans now."
"What did you have in mind?"
"We'll search Dotty's room."
I drew back. "I think my idea is better. Yours is madness."
"You don't have to come. I'll go alone."
"And what if you get into trouble? If you go, I'll go. You need someone to watch out for you. How do you plan on getting in with the landlady there? I'm going to assume we're not scaling the wall and climbing in through the window if you invited me along."
"Nothing so adventurous. The local police station is going to send her a message about an update on the missing Dotty and her presence is required to assist with their inquiries."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea. When she learns there's been a mistake, she'll suspect something. It will also be upsetting."
"We're trying to find Dotty. Since the landlady won't let us into the room, we h
ave to resort to unconventional methods."
"Or we could wait for Brockwell."
"And waste valuable time? What if we can't speak with him tomorrow, either?"
There would be no convincing him. He'd made up his mind. I rather thought he was being honest about needing the distraction tonight.
The landlady locked the front door and deposited the key in her reticule. She looked up and down the street before heading off in the direction away from us. The evening was still early and the streets safe enough for her to walk to the nearest police station where we assumed she'd reported her tenant missing. We calculated we had twenty minutes at a minimum to search Dotty's room. First, we had to get in and locate it.
Getting in wasn't a problem with Matt's toolkit. He had the front door open in seconds. Finding Dotty's room took a little longer, but we found it on the second floor and immediately began searching through her things with the lamp turned down low.
"Her travel documents," Matt said, holding up papers he'd found in the top drawer of an escritoire. "There's a steamship ticket to the United States, and identification. Her full name is Dorothy Campion."
"So she hasn't left the country."
I didn't like rifling through Dotty's dresser drawers but it was better for me to do it than Matt. There was nothing unusual hidden among her unmentionables, but the fact that the drawers and trunk were full of underthings and clothes meant she hadn't found alternative accommodation. It was beginning to look like something terrible had happened to Dotty. Nobody willingly left all their belongings behind.
Matt checked under the bed then began skimming his fingers over the wallpaper, feeling for hidden compartments. I searched her dressing table for more clues. Among the hair combs, pins, perfume and powder were a few items of jewelry, all of which were paste or inexpensive beads. I moved aside a small pile of handkerchiefs to discover the pile didn't just contain handkerchiefs. Something hard was wrapped in one of them.
I unwrapped it and stared at the watch in my hand. It looked familiar. At first I assumed I must have seen Dotty checking it, that night at The Prince of Wales, but that didn't seem right. For one thing, it was a man's watch. For another, it was a fine piece and would have cost a considerable sum. It seemed out of place among the cheap jewelry.