Elizabeth plopped down onto the sofa next to him and rubbed her temples. “I’m getting one of those paradox headaches.”
“It is a bit confusing, isn’t it? We simply have to assume that everything we’ve done here is meant to be. That we’re not changing time.”
“You’re forgetting the fact that we were sent here to do just that by saving Graham.”
“And yet, we didn’t. Graham still died.”
“But that’s a change, isn’t it? In the original timeline, he wasn’t supposed to die and when he did, time changed. Or did it?”
Elizabeth scrunched up her face in discomfort. “I need some seltzer or something. Time travel upsets my stomach.”
Simon stood and pulled the velvet cord by the fireplace that summoned one of the servants.
“I know you don’t believe the Council,” Elizabeth said, ignoring Simon’s acid expression, “but what if they were right about time changing, just not about how.”
“Go on,” Simon prompted.
A knock on the salon door interrupted her reply and the maid Jane stepped in.
“Miss Elizabeth isn’t feeling well. Is there something on hand for an upset stomach?” Simon asked.
Jane nibbled her lip, bobbed her head and blushed. “Is it a womanly thing, Miss?”
Elizabeth snorted delicately and shook her head. “No, just a bit nauseous. Some crackers would be lovely, if you have them.”
Jane dipped a quick curtsey and left.
“Womanly problems?” Elizabeth said with a giggle that died in her throat. The proverbial penny dropped like a cartoon anvil. “Womanly problems. Simon! I’ve got it. I think I know what’s happened. Graham’s death was supposed to destroy his family tree and all of his descendants. But it didn’t.”
“We’ve established that,” Simon said.
“Because it was too late. The seed’s already been planted, Simon. Mary Graham isn’t sick; she’s pregnant.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Are you sure?” Simon asked.
“No, but it makes sense, doesn’t it?”
Simon nodded thoughtfully and ran his fingers through his hair, finding the bump on the back of his head still tender.
“And if it’s true, Mary is in serious danger.”
“Not necessarily,” Simon said. “She could lose the child naturally.”
“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?”
Simon hated to point it out, but they needed to try to keep clear heads about all of this. “It is unpleasant to contemplate, but the reality is that the infant and mother mortality rates are still painfully high at this time. It’s also possible the child survives the birth only to fall victim to Diphtheria, Influenza, an accident or any of a dozen things. Including, need I remind you, a rather devastating earthquake.”
“That’s true,” Elizabeth said crestfallen. “I hate it when you make a good point.”
“But,” Simon said and smiled as Elizabeth immediately perked up. “It would be prudent to see if we can’t convince Mrs. Graham to leave town.”
“Hooray for prudent!”
Simon shook his head and stood. He held out his hand to Elizabeth and he helped her up. “We don’t have long. We’d better be convincing.”
Elizabeth had a look in her eye Simon knew too well. Mary Graham had no idea what she was up against.
“She’ll leave.”
***
The black mourning dress made Mary Graham’s already sallow skin look almost translucent. “I can’t leave.”
She sat in the same chair she had the last time they’d visited her. Was it really just a few days ago? That had been difficult enough; now the poor woman wasn’t just mourning the loss of a child, but her husband as well.
“It isn’t safe here,” Simon said. “I’m afraid your husband’s death wasn’t an accident.”
Mary closed her eyes in anguish and took a moment to compose herself before answering in a hoarse whisper. “I know.”
Elizabeth moved to the edge of her seat. “Then you have to see that it’s dangerous for you stay.” Mary shook her head, but Elizabeth pressed on. “For you and your baby.”
Mary Graham looked as though she was going to deny it, but instead she smiled sadly. “Victor didn’t even know. I was going to tell him, but I wanted to make sure. I…I’ve miscarried before, you see, and each time a part of Victor…I wanted to be sure this time and now it doesn’t matter at all.”
Mary broke down into tears and Simon felt thoroughly helpless. Thankfully, Elizabeth joined Mary on the settee and took her hand. “It does matter. More than you know.”
Mary sniffled and wiped her tears. “I still can’t leave. There’s an inquest into Victor’s…and there are funeral arrangements to be made. I…”
“Just for a few days,” Elizabeth said.
“Why would she want to hurt Victor that way? What could we possibly have done to her to make her hate us so?”
Simon leaned forward in his chair. “You didn’t do anything, Mrs. Graham. You’re not to blame in this.”
“It was as though she’d cast some sort of spell on him,” Mary said. “Did you know that he saw her several times after the séance? She claimed she could help us save Violet. I…I didn’t believe her, but Victor was convinced. He thought she was our only hope. Is she some sort of witch?”
“No,” Simon said quickly, staving off anything Elizabeth might have said to the contrary. “Not a witch. Just a very sick woman.”
“Please reconsider, Mary,” Elizabeth said. “Simon and I will take you wherever you want to go. Just for a few days.”
A knock on the door interrupted them. The Graham’s butler stepped in. “Pardon the intrusion, ma’am, but the police are here.”
“Oh, yes, please bring them in,” Mary said and then turned to Simon and Elizabeth. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t leave.”
Two blue-coated policemen stepped into the parlor. “Ma’am,” one of them said curtly before addressing Simon. “Are you Sir Simon Cross?”
Simon hesitated. “Yes.”
“You need to come with us, sir.”
“What’s going on?” Elizabeth crossed the room and tried to put herself between Simon and the officers.
“Please step aside, Miss,” one of them said.
Simon had a sinking feeling about this.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” she demanded.
“His lordship is under arrest,” the officer said and held up a pair of heavy iron cuffs. “Now, step aside before I clamp a pair of these on you too, Miss.”
Elizabeth didn’t budge.
“It’s all right, Elizabeth,” Simon said with much more confidence than he felt. “I’m sure there’s just been some sort of misunderstanding.”
“Not unless you count murder as a misunderstanding,” the officer said as he put the cuffs on Simon’s wrists. “You, sir, are under arrest for the murder of Victor Graham.”
***
The jail cells at City Hall were probably just about as clean as the stables at City Hall. Something resembling a mattress was thrown on top of a metal platform that was suspended by heavy chains from the wall. Simon could only imagine the lice, bedbugs and God only knew what else that were living inside it. The only other decoration in his eight by eight foot cell was a bucket in the corner. The stench coming from it was overwhelming.
And yet, the worst part of it was the walls. Not because they pressed in on him, which they did, but because they were made of brick. Each one would be a potential death sentence when the earthquake came, and it was coming closer with every passing minute. He had to get out of this wretched place before then.
He reached for his watch and then remembered that it and everything else he’d had with him was locked away in that damned enormous filing cabinet across the room in the office area. If he managed to break out, he’d have to break into that. It wouldn’t be easy either. This wasn’t a typical office filing cabinet. Of course, breaking out or breaki
ng in, neither seemed all that likely at the moment.
The bars to his cell were made of heavy iron. There was no way he could break through them. He was trapped. Good and well trapped. He slammed his hand hard against them and heard a loud rumbling snore from the cell next to his.
“Perfect.”
He heard voices in the hallway—Elizabeth and two men. She appeared in the doorway and he was struck by how badly he’d needed to see her. She hurried across the room and met him at the bars. Behind her, Max slipped a handful of bills into a policeman’s hand.
The officer looked around and said, “Five minutes.”
Max nodded, shoed the officer out and then leaned against the door jamb.
Elizabeth wrapped her hands around Simon’s. “Are you all right?”
“What’s this all about?”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew even more worried. “It seems Victor didn’t fall to his death.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He was shot.”
“That’s absurd, we told them what happened.”
Elizabeth paced around the small room. “I know. They said because the body was badly damaged it took time for them to discover the bullet wound.”
“That’s absurd.” Simon had a horrible feeling that he knew where this was headed.
“It gets better. Your gun was found on the rocks near the body.”
“Stryker.” Simon had thought he’d lost it in the tall grass, but Stryker must have taken it while they were fighting. “That’s hardly enough evidence for an arrest. How did they even know the gun’s mine?”
“You apparently ‘waved it around’ in Chinatown and made quite an impression on the locals.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“But wait, there’s more,” Elizabeth said. “Several witnesses including most of the Graham’s household staff and a few neighbors saw you arguing with Graham the night before he died. He even had to send one of his servants to get the police because you wouldn’t leave him alone.”
This was not looking good, not good at all. Simon felt those brick walls closing in just a little bit with each passing second.
“And then,” Elizabeth continued, “you followed him to Land’s End. They said I was lucky that I hadn’t been arrested as an accomplice.”
Simon’s head was spinning. “Quite a neat little web. And I seem to be stuck right in the middle of it.”
Elizabeth came to his side, reached through the bars and took his hand. “We’ll find a way out of this, out of here. It’s what we do, remember?”
Dear, wonderful Elizabeth. How he loved her. As much as he believed they could find a way to exonerate him, it wouldn’t happen fast enough. He was trussed up as neatly a Christmas goose. “I want you to promise me something.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“If you can’t secure my release by tomorrow night, I want you to leave this city.”
“No can do.”
He knew she’d balk at that, but he pressed on. “Elizabeth, I’m serious about this.”
She touched his cheek. “I know you are.”
He took her hand and held it between both of his. She needed to understand. “Listen to me. I need to know you’ll be safe. That matters more to me than anything else in this world.”
“I know.”
She was maddening. “Then you’ll go?”
“We didn’t come here together,” she said, “but we’re leaving that way. One way or the other”
“Don’t be so damned noble.”
“Said the martyr.”
She was impossible. If he had to he’d find a way to have her kidnapped and… “Harrington.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Elizabeth said. “Leave him out of this.”
“Harrington,” Simon said, “if you truly have feelings for Elizabeth—”
“Hello!” Elizabeth said. “Grown woman. Making up her own mind.”
Simon heaved a defeated sigh. “You’re impossible.” He caught Harrington’s eyes and said, “Just watch over her, would you?”
Max nodded and in that instant an understanding passed between the two men.
Elizabeth threw up her hands and shook her head. “You two make your caveman compact. That’s fine. This helpless little damsel is going to find a way to get your ass out of here. That is, if I have your permission, Sir Simon?”
Despite the situation, Simon laughed. She was so wonderfully alive and beautiful when she was angry. “Elizabeth…”
Her pique melted away as fast as it had come and she walked over to his cell again. “I love you,” she said.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Aren’t I always?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elizabeth had promised Simon that she’d be careful. Then she’d promised Max the same when he’d brought her home. All she needed was for Gerald to come in and she’d have a trifecta. Not that it mattered what she promised them; if recklessness was what it took, she was prepared to be a raving maniac.
Simon might have to spend tonight in jail, but tomorrow, she’d find a way. The trouble was, she had no idea where to start.
Madame Petrovka had Simon tied up with a pretty ribbon. She’d obviously manufactured the witnesses from Chinatown and heaven only knew who else she had on her payroll.
No matter how many times Elizabeth went over it in her head, every path seemed blocked to her and even those that might pay off, would take too damn long. She thought about kidnapping Mary Graham, at least that might give Simon a chance. But she knew it wasn’t enough. She’d lived in California long enough to know what kind of building could survive an earthquake and City Hall wasn’t one of them. And even if she did somehow manage to break Simon out of jail, he could still die if Madame Petrovka got her hands on Mary Graham and her baby.
No matter which move she made, the other left her Simon at risk. But nothing was impossible. There had to be a way.
She paced the length of the salon and looked at the clock on the mantle—nearly midnight. She did some quick calculations. The quake struck just after 5 a.m. the day after next. That gave her twenty-nine hours, twenty-eight if they wanted a chance to get out of the city.
“Twenty-eight hours,” she said to the empty room. It could have been twice as long, three times, and she’d still be just as stuck. For the first time in a very long time, Elizabeth had no idea what to do next.
The front doorbell rang and startled her from her funk. She peeked through the bay window into the darkness to see who it was. Teddy stood on the stoop repeatedly touching a leaf from a nearby bush.
Gerald let him in and Teddy came bounding into the salon. “Hi!”
“Hi, Teddy.” She flopped down onto the sofa and stared into the fire. “What are you doing here?”
“Max told me what happened and I want to help.”
“I wish you could.”
Teddy looked around anxiously and then joined her on the sofa. He scooched closer until their legs were touching and then he leaned in and whispered, “Our secret can help.”
“What do you—”
“I can go back. I’ve never tried to change anything, but I bet I could.”
Elizabeth felt a rush of temptation that would have put Lot’s wife to shame. It could work. Just something small. They didn’t have to change anything significant, just a message from herself to herself. That would certainly put a different spin on “if I only knew then what I know now”, wouldn’t it? What harm could it do? She could save Simon. She could even save Graham. Even Captain Picard bent the Prime Directive every once in a while.
She was just about to agree to it when she looked into Teddy’s face, his completely guileless face. And she knew it was wrong. Oh, it was tempting. So damned tempting. But it was wrong, so very wrong. She knew it as surely as anything she’d ever known. She couldn’t do it.
“Thank you, Teddy. That’s sweet of you, but that’s a very, very dangerous path. I don’t think
either of us is qualified to play God, do you?”
Teddy’s beard wiggled as he chewed his lip deep in thought. Finally, he shook his head. “No. But I still want to help. I’d give you the moon if I could.”
He was so dear and Elizabeth wanted help, but what could he do? There had to be something. He was a genius, after all. A crazy mad genius with scorch marks on the wall of his laboratory.
“I think there is something you can do.”
He brightened.
Elizabeth grinned back. “How would you like to blow something up?”
***
Elizabeth and Teddy strategized into the wee hours of the morning. The next morning, Max was already there when Elizabeth came downstairs.
“What’s the plan?” he said.
As much as she wanted his help, she felt a pang of guilt. He had no idea what the next 24 hours held. “It could get dangerous,” she said in epic understatement.
Max grinned. “I eat danger for breakfast.”
“I’m serious, Max.”
His smile faded and he looked, for the first time since she’d met him, like a man and not a playboy. “I know you are. I don’t claim to understand what’s going on, but I do know that this is something I’d like to see through to the end. For once,” he said self-deprecatingly. “No matter where it leads.”
She took his hand. “You’re a good friend, Max.”
He smiled again, but she saw the pain behind it. “Come on, then,” he said. “Where do we start?”
***
They went to see Simon first. He looked the way she felt.
“You don’t happen to have a toothbrush with you, by any chance?” he said. “I think they serve actual gruel here.”
“Sorry, no toothbrush, something better.”
Max was still arguing with the guard. They’d brought a parcel for Simon, but the guard wouldn’t let them pass with it.
“It’s cheese,” Max said.
The guard pointed at the package. “Open it up.”
“All right,” Max said, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
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