“Very well. I’ll leave you to your rest,” I say as I make my way to the door and to my next suspect. “Oh, before I leave, Alexandra. Have you ever seen this?” I ask and pull the gold medallion and blue stone from my pocket. Alexandra’s eyes widen and betray him if he was about to lie to me. His eyes close for the briefest of seconds before he answers.
“I have never seen the medallion of life in person before sir, no. I have only ever seen it in books. It is said to hold the power of life, and the wearer, should they choose, can turn back the clock on their own lives, and stay inside that body indefinitely. It is an anti-aging device, if you will.”
I cock my head to the side, unable to believe that a gold medallion filled with diamonds could hold such a power.
“I am far too old to believe in fairy tales and fables, Mr. Panten. Thank you for your time.”
I walk to the back of The Pegasus and to my next suspect’s quarters. I know very little about this man, aside from his name, but I do know his quarters are situated beside Jameson’s.
Once again, I take a deep breath and knock, not knowing what I will be confronted with at this hour.
“Bonjour, Capitaine,” the delicate man says upon opening his door.
I close my eyes. This is not going to be easy. “Bonjour, Mr. Caine,” I reply hastily. “I’m here about Mr. Crudley,” I say too loud for even my own ears, trying to compensate for the language barrier.
Mr. Caine does not answer me. Instead, he just shakes his head.
I try a different tact. “Have you ever seen this?” I ask, holding up the gold medallion.
His eyes, just like Alexandra’s, widen and betray him. “Vous ne pouves avoir que ici! Vous ne pouves avoir que ici! Dehors! Dehors!” he screams and pushes me out the door.
I do not speak a word of French, but it is quite clear that Mr. Caine does not wish me to be in his room as long as I have the medallion in my hand.
I give up questioning him as a lost cause. After all, if he is that frightened of the golden object, I very much doubt he would want to kill Mr. Crudley for it. That awareness leaves me with only two suspects. Abigail and Lenora.
I quickly duck into my own quarters to hide the medallion and other evidence before my next round of questioning.
When I arrive, I find Rayall still standing guard outside their quarters at the forefront of the airship, right beside my own cabin.
“Thank you, Rayall, anything to report here?” I ask.
“No, Cap’n, haven’t heard a peep out of ‘em since I took up my guard,” he answers.
“Good. Would you go and attend the doctor and report back to me with any news, please?”
“Of course, Cap’n,” he says, nodding and walking away toward the medical quarters.
I knock lightly upon Abigail and Lenora’s door, knowing they are still awake and awaiting me.
“Captain Jones, I trust you have found the man’s murderer?” Abigail asks.
“No, actually, quite the opposite. No one seems to know a thing. This fact has led me here tonight. You were the first on the scene, Abigail,” I say accusingly.
“Yes,” she says, not missing a beat. “I was taking a rather refreshing walk around the deck. I couldn’t sleep, and I found poor Mr. Crudley laying there in a pool of blood. I have never seen a dead body, Mr. Jones. It was shocking to say the least.”
I restrained from rolling my eyes at the overly dramatic way Abigail recounted her first murder scene.
“We found a strand of golden blonde hair upon Mr. Crudley’s chest. Can you explain how it got there?” I ask, pushing the woman for information.
“Yes, of course. I was trying to resuscitate the man. Shocked or not, I was not going to leave without at least attempting to save him.”
I have to hand it to her, she at least sounds sincere. She is good. “And the gold dust that was found in his spilled blood?” I ask.
“I’m not quite sure I know what you are talking about. Mr. Jones,” she says, furrowing her brow. “I do not own anything that is gold. Very few people do these days.”
Instead of honoring her with an answer, I pointedly look to the broach fastened upon her blouse. It is gold. Not real gold of course, but a cheap, painted imitation of gold.
“I—it must have scraped along something near Mr. Crudley,” she says composing herself and pulling herself up straight to look me in the eyes.
“Lenora, do you have anything to add?” I ask of the older woman.
She doesn’t answer, but merely shakes her head, looking at her feet.
I turn to leave and smile as I hear a gasp escape Abigail’s perfect lips.
“Captain Jones,” she calls, “you dropped this.” She hands me the small blue stone with shaking hands. She seems reluctant to let it drop, but gathering herself, she does.
“Why did you have to kill him?” I ask. “You are young, you are beautiful. Now you will spend your life behind bars.”
“I did not, and would not, ever do such a thing,” she says, keeping up the ruse.
“Oh, give it up mother!” Lenora says from behind the young woman.
I am momentarily thrown into confusion. “Mother?”
“Yes, mother,” she says. “You see, my mother does not wish to grow old, Captain. The medallion was stolen from her six months ago. We tracked its movements across London, and finally found—”
“Hush your mouth child!” Abigail screams and lunges across the room at her daughter.
I get between the pair immediately and break up the fight before I have another body to deal with tonight.
Both women stand and straighten their many layers of skirts. I take Abigail by the wrists before she can make another attempt at attacking her daughter.
Hands bound behind her back, I push her through the door and head for the brig. She struggles against my hold and screams, tossing her head back.
“You will all regret this! Even you, Daughter! There is not a person alive, aside from me, who can stop it!”
“Stop what?” I ask.
“My insurance,” she sneers.
The fear in Lenora’s eyes suddenly ignites, and she screams in return, “What have you done, Mother? Mother!”
With Abigail safely tucked away in her holding cell, I attempt return to my quarters. I need sleep before sunrise. Sleep, apparently, is not in the cards tonight.
“Cap’n! Cap’n!” Rayall yells as he runs toward me.
I stop abruptly. Something is very wrong.
“What is it, Rayall? What is the matter?” I ask, worried.
“Sir, the Doc found something,” he answers, breathless.
“Something? Like what?”
“He’s not a hundred percent certain, Cap’n. There is some sort of chemical around the wound on Mr. Crudley’s neck though, sir. We need to get off the ship. Now,” he states matter-of-factly.
“What will these chemicals do, Rayall?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer, so I shake him by the shoulders until he does.
“The doc seems to think, if they come in contact with each other, they will explode, sir. We need to leave.”
“No, we don’t. We need to retrieve Abigail from the brig.”
It is with haste that we return to the brig and shake the bars of Abigail’s cell. “How do stop the chemical reaction?” I ask, furious.
“Oh, you found my insurance I see. I must say, you did so quicker than I expected.” She smirks at me from behind her bars.
“How. Do. We. Stop it?” I repeat.
“You won’t, and neither will I. You have two choices, Mr. Jones. Land the ship, let me leave without an escort and with the medallion, and I shall diffuse the chemicals.”
“Or?”
“Or kill us all. I would make the decision quickly though, if I were you. Those chemicals are currently leeching their way through Mr. Crudley’s body at a rapid pace. They can’t stay separated for too much longer, surely.”
“Rayall,” I say through gritted teeth, �
��set us down at the earliest convenience.”
“Yes, sir!” Rayall says, as he speeds off to land The Pegasus.
I once again awake my passengers, this time to gather them near the exit. We are descending quickly, and we will make landfall in Paris within moments.
Abigail stands, hands bound by my own, beside me as we touch down.
“Would you like me to diffuse the chemicals now, Captain?” she asks mildly.
“No,” I answer as we step off board, and I see to it that everyone is safely on land.
“No?” she asks, panic in her voice.
“No,” I repeat. “I will not allow you to go free, Abigail. You are a thief and a murderer, and I will see to it that you spend the rest of your life in a prison cell.”
“You said . . .”
“I lied,” I say with a straight face, staring at her.
“Where is my medallion?” she asks furiously.
I don’t answer her. Instead, I look upon The Pegasus, which is preparing to return to the skies for one last journey, the autopilot set to take her out over the sea.
“No!” Abigail screams and twists away from me, escaping my clutches and jumping back on board the airship.
I make to grab for her, but her small frame is a lot faster than my bulky one.
The Pegasus soars into the sky, and I watch as the last airship explodes and falls through the aether, landing in the calm oceans below.
From somewhere close I can hear the soft sobbing of a woman. A girl who has lost her mother. Her heart wrenching cries seem to resonate deeply within me. She lost her mother as the airship went down, and I lost everything I have known my entire life.
“Come now, Lenora,” I say as I gently place my arm around her shoulders, “it’s time to start a new adventure. This is not the end. It is the beginning of something new, something different, something wondrous.”
Carialis was with her mother, attending the final ball before the fleet shipped out for tours the night Ali first met Domaroc. Her father, Captain Alistair Trant, had left them to ready his ship, the H.M.A.S. Liberation. It would be the last opportunity for many of the young ladies to win over certain young officers, but Madam Trant had denied every man who had tried for Carialis’s attention. The young lady stood beside her mother, watching as her friends, Anastasia Drummond and Delphine Hardestry, took turns dancing with crewman of the Liberation. Ali sensed her mother’s dismay at such flaunting displays.
The music switched to a waltz, and couples were quick to the floor. Carialis brought her fan up to cover her yawn. Her evenings were growing monotonous. Ever since her debut, her mother had dragged her to every soirée and ball the city’s elite held. The task was failing in finding her a proper suitor. Carialis was beginning to wonder if it was her fault. However, when her mother gasped, reached up and forced her hand to her side, she realized there might be another reason for it.
She looked down at her mother, tilting her head to the side, silently questioning.
“Have you forgotten yourself?” her mother admonished. “Lieutenant Davison saw that.”
Carialis tried to sigh, but the boning in her corset restricted it. “And if he did?”
Her mother clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “He may think you are interested and try to call on you.”
“And what if he does?” she replied, smiling at the young lieutenant, who was making his way toward her. “Father speaks highly of him.”
“He’s earned his position, and you know what that means,” her mother hissed before plastering a false smile on her pinched face to greet Davison.
Of course, Ali knew what that meant. It meant, no matter how brave or admirable Lieutenant Jacob Davison was, he had been born poor. Therefore, he wasn’t, and never would be, an acceptable suitor. Regardless, she reached her gloved hand to him when he stood before her.
“Madam Trant,” he addressed Carialis’s mother first, bowing before the older woman. “May I dance with your daughter?”
Carialis bit her bottom lip to keep from smirking. All evening, she had been asked to dance but had to refuse because they hadn’t requested permission. Now, a low born, which hadn’t a chance with her, had outshone the nobles.
Her mother begrudgingly inclined her head, and Carialis found herself whirling onto the dance floor on the arm of Lieutenant Davison. The jingle of his medals as he spun her made her smile. She had been to the pinning ceremony of each one because her father had been the one to give them out. They were mostly service and conduct medals, but the key shaped one drew her attention.
“I don’t recall that one,” she stated as her fingers brushed against it.
“Just a bit of brass given to those who served along the canals. Humor on the part of the commanders, since we were filling locks, they felt we needed keys,” he replied with a crooked smile, which she found endearing.
“I was unaware you served along the waters,” she replied.
Davison laughed. “Why should you have known, Mistress Trant?”
Her steps faltered, and she couldn’t reply, so she let the music sweep her away and the conversation die. He wasn’t a good dancer, but he avoided her feet, or perhaps the hoop of her skirt helped with that.
When the waltz ended, he bowed graciously at the waist. “Thank you, Miss Trant.”
She smiled, using her fan to block her mother’s view of her lips. “It was a pleasure, Lieutenant. Should I expect your calling card soon?” she asked, batting her long, dark lashes.
The question took him off guard. “I’m afraid not. I am shipping out tomorrow with your father.”
“Perfect, then you have three months to convince him it would be fine,” she replied with a wink. Such boldness was more suited to her friend Delphine than her, but she could see her mother watching them with suspicion. The chance to rankle the old woman was too much for her to resist.
Lieutenant Davison shook his head and brought a hand up to brush away a few strands of his sandy blond hair. “I make no illusion of my station. Captain Trant makes it clear to all his officers. No, I just wanted to see the look on the high-borne’s faces when one like me can dance with you,” he replied grinning shyly. “I hope I didn’t offend you.”
Ali couldn’t stifle her laugh. “Well, played Lieutenant. I enjoyed myself as well.”
The musicians stopped and a gong sounded. The guests began to separate into groups, and the men started to the smoking rooms and libraries, while the ladies made for the salons and parlors.
With a final bow, Lieutenant Davison left her and returned to his fellow officers.
Carialis started back to her mother, who was impatiently tapping her foot while she waited for her. A gloved arm snaked around hers, and she looked over to see Delphine beaming at her. Her friend’s red hair gleamed in the lantern light, and her green eyes sparkled. “Well, dear Ali, that was nearly scandalous!”
“Oh, stop, Del,” Ali replied with a laugh. “It was nothing more than a dance.”
“A dance with a low-borne officer when you’ve scorned at least a dozen men of our class,” Anastasia added as she came up on Carialis’s other side.
“Anya, where have you been hiding?” Del gushed.
“Finding out about the after parties,” Anya whispered. “Can you both get away this evening? There’s a roaring party on the docks for those shipping out.”
Del let out a high-pitched sound of glee. “I’ll ask my chauffer if I can. It’s my cousin, Markus.”
Anya rolled her hazel eyes. “Markus is the one who told me about it. He’s already arranged for you to spend the night at my house.” She prodded Carialis in the ribs. “That leaves you, Ali.”
“Mother Trant,” Delphine exclaimed as they reached her mother. “I was wondering if I could steal Carialis this evening.”
Her mother’s eyes narrowed.
“Please, Mother Trant,” Anya begged. “The three of us haven’t had much time together since our debuts, and it would be nice to see what each
of us has been doing.”
“The three of you together,” her mother said with a sigh. “That has never gone well. Even as little girls, you’ve caused trouble.”
Delphine’s jaw dropped in feigned indignation. “Mother Trant, I’m hurt! We are the three most well bred young ladies in the room! How can you say we are trouble?”
Carialis couldn’t help but notice that the room had cleared of most of the guests, and the only other young ladies were servants. She elbowed Delphine to urge her friend to tone down her act.
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt. I will send the carriage for Carialis in the morning,” her mother relented, but before she turned away, she grabbed both Delphine’s and Anastasia’s free hands. “Now, Mistresses Hardesty and Drummond, I expect you to conduct yourselves in a way suitable to your positions. Remember, you are the daughters of a senator and a judge, and as such, will retire home after the social hour.”
“Mama,” Carialis started, taking her hands away from her friends and leaning forward to hug her mother. Such a display of affection was rare, and to do so publically was practically unheard of, but she felt compelled to hold her mother, if but a moment. “Go spend some time with the matrons. I know shadowing me has taken its toll. I am in good hands, and Delphine’s cousin Markus will make sure we get home safely.”
Her mother wrinkled her nose but nodded. “I did see the Nortwich Ambassador’s wife was here and hope she hasn’t left.” With a new course set, Madam Trant made her way to the parlor.
The three girls snickered and dance in a circle of glee that they would be left to their own devices for the evening. Cousin Markus was quick to their sides to remind them of decorum and to escort them out to a waiting coach.
“Oh, this will be deliciously devilish!” squealed Delphine.
“Where are we going?” Carialis asked when she noticed they had turned away from the road leading to the docks.
Anya laughed. “To change, silly. Do you really want to show up to a dock party in your best ball gown? I gave my maid a boost in pay to get me some low-borne dresses. They’re dreadful, but will make due for the likes of airmen and crew.”
“You don’t think my father’s men will be there?”
Cogs in Time Volume Three (The Steamworks Series Book 3) Page 13