“What happened?”
Maeko walked up behind the settee and gripped the back. Macak appeared from somewhere in the rear of the flat and leapt up to place himself in his new favorite spot on her shoulders. She scratched his head absently, soothed by his soft purr, his face pressing warm against her cheek.
“The airship exploded.”
Constance’s hand went to her chest. “Oh dear God! Thaddeus?”
Maeko shook her head. No one could have survived that.
“Margaret’s outside helping with injured folks. Where’s Mr. Folesworth?”
“He’s up on the dock. He wanted to be left alone.”
“And you left him! Good Heavens! We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t come plummeting down next.”
Constance sprinted for the door to the dock, tossing the bread on the dining table on her way past. Maeko scowled after her. Lucian wouldn’t jump. She’d heard the anger in his voice. Right now, he felt betrayed. He was furious with the world and that rage would keep despair at bay for a time. Constance could find that out the hard way if she wished.
She stood for a minute, staring around at the fancy flat with its decorative lamps and the many patent drawings hanging in frames on the walls. Wealth didn’t do a thing to protect one from tragedy, it seemed. No matter how rich a person was, fate could do as it pleased with them. Knowing that didn’t make her feel any better. Would it be different if she were still on the streets? Would seeing a wealthy man suffer this way make her feel like there was justice in the world?
No. It wouldn’t, but she probably wouldn’t feel so helpless. She wouldn’t have this vast hollow in her chest. Thaddeus hadn’t been her kin, nor had she liked him all that much, but she wouldn’t have wished this on him and she worried what another loss would do to Lucian.
Perhaps she should go downstairs and try to help the injured, though she imagined it was confusing enough already without one more body bustling about. The Lits would be there soon, if they weren’t already, and she wasn’t keen to get involved with them, even if she did have Lucian’s protection now. The attendant still had the clothes Em had given her. He would certainly understand if she chose to retrieve them later when things settled down a bit.
“Come on, Macak, let’s go to our room.”
She turned to walk around the settee and froze. The side table stood askew of its usual spot, as if someone had bumped it, and the stack of science journals had fallen to the floor. She could imagine Lucian ready to settle in after his brother’s departure. Startled by the explosion, he might have bumped the table and knocked the journals off in his rush to go see what had happened. It wouldn’t be much, but cleaning up that little mess, that reminder of the tragic moment, might help in some way.
She shifted the table back into place then crouched down, careful not to upset her passenger, and began to pick up the journals, placing them back in a neat stack on the table. When she started to set the last one on top of the stack, something caught her eye. There was a light spatter of red spread across the cover. She examined the red spots and her stomach did a flip, unease building to a wild flutter in her gut.
The sound of someone opening the door from the dock made her start. Clutching the journal, she retreated to her bedroom and sat on the bed, staring at it in the light of the gas sconces. A fine spray swept out across the front cover in the deep rust color of dried blood. Had that been there before? She’d never spent much time studying the journals—they were well above her reading level—but something that out of place should have caught her attention.
She shivered. Macak jumped down from her shoulders and pushed his fuzzy head under her arm.
“I know. I’m worried too, mate.” She drew him onto her lap with one hand, still staring at the journal.
What did it mean? Did it mean anything at all? Was she being a paranoid street rat again?
When supper was ready, the maids summoned Maeko from her room and Constance went up, making what Margaret said was her third attempt to coax Lucian down from the rooftop dock. This time he came trudging listless through the door, his suit soaked through with the rain that had started an hour ago. Constance followed behind, twisting her apron in her hands and using it to wipe the occasional tear from her cheeks. Lucian retreated to his study without a word and shut the door. Margaret insisted that Maeko stay and eat something, so she picked at her food, sharing choice bits that she had little appetite for with Macak who curled discreetly on the chair next to her.
When the Literati came to speak with Lucian later in the evening, she snuck around to the hallway and crouched in the shadows to listen. A dark mood thickened the atmosphere in the flat. The sorrow in the air was thick enough to suffocate them all.
“Mr. Folesworth, we found your brother’s remains in the wreckage. I’m sorry to say there isn’t much left to identify. The coroner will handle that part of things as delicately as possible. However…”
The officer trailed off and his companion spoke into the awkward silence, a voice she knew and despised. Officer Tagmet. Their brief encounter the other day showed that her new status hadn’t changed her in his regard and validated her decision to stay out of sight.
“I am afraid this was no accident,” Tagmet declared indelicately.
“You think someone murdered my brother. Why? What would they stand to gain from my brother’s death?” Lucian questioned. His voice sounded hoarse, perhaps from crying.
“The airship belonged to you, correct?”
Silence.
“We suspect they may have been hoping to get to you. Whoever did it would have had to have access to the airship since it anchored here. The investigator said the explosives were set to go off when the engines engaged. We’ll be questioning all the staff and residents here, servants included. We’re asking people not to allow servants to leave. We need the names of anyone who’s had access to that dock since the airship landed there.”
“Garrett Harris docked here last night for a supper with my brother and I. He and his crew all spent time up there.” There was a brief silence and Maeko held her breath, knowing who else was about to come up on the list. “And that girl was up there for some time last night.”
That girl? The phrase was a knife to the gut. When had she become that girl? Did he think she was somehow involved in all of this? What happened to the trust he’d spoken of the night before?
“What girl?” Tagmet prompted.
“Ah, yes,” Lucian muttered as though recalling something he’d forgotten. “Maeko.”
“The street rat,” Tagmet clarified, his tone sharp with undisguised contempt.
“Yes.”
Yes? He’d lost his brother and she was demoted back to street rat status? Maybe it could all be chalked up to his need to lash out at someone for his pain. Maybe she was simply the closest and easiest target, but something didn’t feel right. The butterflies in her stomach had grown to the size of ravens.
“Is she here?”
“She’s in her room,” Lucian answered, his tone picking up some of Tagmet’s contempt.
“Good. Keep her and your servants here until we can get to questioning them. Unfortunately, shorthanded as we are, it may take most of the night to get things sorted downstairs. We won’t get to questioning people until sometime tomorrow. No one is to leave the building until they’ve spoken with an investigator. I know this is a hard time for you, but I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you respect those terms as well.”
“Yes,” Lucian answered, sounding impatient now. “Of course.”
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Folesworth.” The other officer sounded apologetic, trying to smooth over Tagmet’s gruff manner.
Maeko slunk back to her room, heart pounding in her ears. Her eyes tracked to the blood-spattered science journal sitting on the bed. Something felt very wrong. Lucian wasn’t acting like himself. Was it reasonable to expect him to though, after all the loss he had suffered?
Macak sat beside the journal, watching her wi
th that all-knowing expression that came so naturally to cats. He got up and nudged the edge of the journal with his nose, pushing it toward her. Footsteps approached down the hall. She grabbed the journal and shoved it under the bed. There was a light knock on the door before it swung in without awaiting a response. She looked up at him and he looked back at her, his face a severe, emotionless mask. Macak trotted to the far corner of the bed and jumped off, vanishing underneath. The cat’s uncharacteristic behavior made her feel sick.
“You should be in bed.”
“Yes, Sir. I just need to get Constance to help me with the dress.”
He gave a curt nod. “Get to it then.” Without another word, he shut the door and she heard the door to the study close a few seconds later.
He didn’t say goodnight. He really wasn’t behaving like himself at all. Then again, he had just lost his brother. Maybe she was reading too much into what had to be an overwhelming load of grief. One more loss piled on top of the loss of his wife and daughter. But she had watched him grieve before, when he learned of their deaths. He had welcomed her then, taking solace in her presence even though she was a stranger to him. This time he knew her, had taken her into his home like family. Shouldn’t he be more willing to accept her into his grieving process? Unless…
Macak emerged and hopped on her lap. She scratched the sides of his neck and he ducked his head against her chest, closing his eyes and purring.
“You noticed it too, didn’t you?” The cat responded with a soft squeak into her clothes. For once in her life, she desperately wanted to be wrong. “What do I do now?”
That was obvious, now that she thought about it. She had to find a way to warn Ash what had happened before the Lits came to question them. If she slipped out now, she could probably sneak out amidst the confusion downstairs. No one downstairs would expect her to make an escape. They all made the same mistake of expecting someone dressed like a young lady to behave like one. She fastened her dress boots on again and stood. Macak leapt to her shoulders and nuzzled her cheek.
“You can’t come.” The cat nipped her ear hard enough to sting and she caught his head in her hand. “That wasn’t nice.” Of course, neither was leaving him here if what she feared were true.
Cold swept through her with the startling realization that she didn’t intend to return after she warned Ash and his family. If her gut feeling was accurate, trouble was brewing and it didn’t bode well for her future. Someone needed to take the fall for Mr. Folesworth’s death and it didn’t seem likely that it would be the one responsible. Blaming her would get her out of the way, but no one would believe she had pulled such a thing off all by herself. Ash and his family were the next most logical suspects, especially given her association with them in the chaos around the murder of Lucian’s wife and daughter.
And if I’m wrong?
Running away might break Lucian’s heart yet again if she were wrong. If she were right, however, she stood to lose everything. Even if that man really was Lucian, the loss of his brother had changed something in him. She wasn’t willing to gamble her life on it changing back before something bad happened to her or to someone she cared about.
She left the room, opening and shutting the door with the silence of a mouse. She took only the clothes she wore, a matching shawl, a coin purse with the lock pick set Chaff sent her and her key to the flat in it, and the cat on her shoulders. Hushed voices in the kitchen warned her where Constance and Margaret were. They were engaged in tearful conversation about the loss of Lucian’s brother and all the sorrow that had struck that household in the last few months, so would be unlikely to notice her if she was careful.
She snuck into the spare room. Thaddeus had spent the night there, though all trace of him had already been cleaned away by the servants. In one corner of the room, tucked behind a blue and silver brocade chair, sat Macak’s carrying case. She drew it out and Macak hopped down from her shoulders to climb inside. She nodded gratitude to the cat for his cooperation before closing the case. At least he didn’t cause trouble. Perhaps he sensed the gravity of their situation.
Carrying the case with her now, she crept into the front sitting room and dug all the extra money out of the box on the table, tucking it into the coin purse. She heard one of the women in the kitchen moving toward the doorway and ducked behind the settee, recalling the time she had been caught in that position by Em, the night she found Lucian’s family dead. That time, she’d given Macak a little squeeze to make him alert Detective Emeraude to her presence. She’d gotten her first taste of what it felt like to stare down the barrel of a gun that night, though it hadn’t been her last. She held her breath and hoped for the best. This time, getting caught would serve no purpose. The cat remained silent while Constance put out the light near the door and continued into the dining room to put out those lights as well.
When Constance returned to the kitchen, Maeko tiptoed to the door under the cover of darkness and let herself out, appreciating the silence of the quality hinges and latch now more than ever. By the time she reached the third floor landing, she could hear noise from below, many voices talking over the occasional moan or cry. It sounded as if the lobby had been converted to a base of operations for cleanup and care of the injured. At the ground level, she hung back in the shadows to wait for the right moment. When no one appeared to be looking her way, she slipped out and tucked the case alongside the staircase behind a big planter, laying her shawl over it to hide the holes.
The only one in the crowd below who might cause her a problem was Tagmet, and he’d only once seen her cleaned up and dressed like a girl. He might not notice her if she didn’t do anything to draw attention. For the moment, he was standing in the front door bellowing at someone working in the street.
Perfect.
She strode across to the desk as if her heart weren’t stuck in her throat and her knees trembling like the pages of windblown leaflets under her skirts. The desk attendant from earlier spotted her coming and nodded, reaching down to pull up the satchel. This time, he started the encounter so pale that his flush made him look a shade better than dead.
“I suppose you want this, Miss?”
“Thank you.” She rested her elbows on the desk, fearful that her trembling legs wouldn’t hold her upright without the extra support. “I need to run and get something from the apothecary for Mr. Folesworth. Is there another exit so I don’t have to go through this chaos?”
He swallowed, his eyes darting around the room. They came to rest on Tagmet for several seconds then sank to his own hands fidgeting on the desktop. “No one’s supposed to leave the building, Miss. Officer Tagmet’s orders. I’m sorry.”
Maeko reached out and took his hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. He swallowed harder and a bright flush accented his high cheekbones. “I’d only be gone a moment. After all Mr. Folesworth has been through today, I couldn’t bear to let him down.”
The boy’s eyes darted to Tagmet again who still stood in the doorway, letting in the cold and holding a shouting match with another officer outside. The young attendant turned back to her and leaned close. She mirrored the motion, leaning in so that their faces were uncomfortably close. Whatever it took to get what she needed. He swallowed again.
“There’s an exit at the back of the east conference room. There shouldn’t be anyone in there right now. If you flip the little switch on the latch it won’t lock behind you, but be sure to lock it on your way back in.”
She squeezed his hands again, batting her eyes as she’d seen other women do to unsettle men, though she didn’t quite get how it worked. “Thank you so much. I won’t forget this.”
He nodded, avoiding her eyes. His cheeks blazed like beacons now.
She grabbed the satchel and strode to the stairway to collect Macak’s case. With that same confident air, she walked around to the indicated conference room door, snatching up an umbrella someone had left leaning against the wall on her way past, and stepped through the door when n
o one was looking.
The big room beyond was dark. With the massive lobby and ballroom available, they hadn’t needed to use this space. The only risk now was that someone might be watching the door from outside, but being shorthanded meant they weren’t likely to have enough men to monitor all the exits. Still, she tiptoed to the waiting door, pausing every few steps to listen. At the door, she pushed down the handle and jumped at the loud click it made. Her heart raced as she inched the door open and peeked out.
No one.
Opening the umbrella to ward off the drizzle, she stepped out and let the door fall shut behind her. She’d almost made it to the corner when a Literati officer stepped around the building and turned her direction.
The officer gave her a puzzled look and held up a hand for her to stop. “Excuse me, Miss.”
She stopped in her tracks and let him close the remaining distance. Steady, Mae. “Yes, Officer?”
He frowned, water dripping from his hat added weight to the dour expression. “It’s a bit late for a stroll. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you where you appeared from.”
“Appeared,” she managed a lighthearted titter. “I walked here from a block up. I was taking a hansom from Covent Garden, but there seems to be some incident on Oxford. We’ve been stuck for a while. I thought it might be faster if I finished the trip on foot. What happened?”
“An airship accident, Miss. Nothing to concern yourself with.”
“Oh my.” She drew in a sharp breath. Macak shifted around in the case and her muscles strained to keep it still, her arm aching in protest.
The officer placed a hand on his club and tapped his fingers on the handle. A not-so-subtle threat. “As I said, it’s a bit late for a young lady like you to be out, especially alone, Miss. Where’s your chaperone?”
The Girl and the Clockwork Conspiracy: Clockwork Enterprises Book Two Page 8