They arrived at St Andrew's, a small bluestone church with a slate roof, simple and unadorned with an iron cross above the front doors. They removed their nasal protectors and wiped their faces with handkerchiefs, before walking up the stone steps. Miss Plockton nodded at the other men and women as they entered but she did not stop to chat. There was a heavy air of seriousness.
Inside, they found a seat on the long wooden pews. Evangeline wriggled to get comfortable, she lacked the natural padding of some of the other women in the congregation. The air was cool inside the stone church, a welcome respite from the stuffy air outside. Men wiped their faces with handkerchieves and women fanned themselves with their hymn sheets.
The church was not what Evangeline expected. The new cathedral on the corner of Swanston and Flinders Street had high ceilings, pointed decorated garrets and stained glass windows in red, amber and green. Miss Plockton's church was plain, more like a meeting hall, yet filled with an understated sense of grace.
"It is not like the gaudiness of those Catholic churches." Miss Plockton read Evangeline's mind again. "We do not need such extravagance to show our devotion to the Lord. He looks down on such showiness."
Evangeline nodded, although thinking a bit of colour would be nice.
The room filled with people and hushed murmurs. A few notes belched from the church organ and everyone rose to their feet. Miss Plockton pulled Evangeline up to her feet by her elbow. She handed her a hymn book open to the right page. The room burst into song, including Miss Plockton in thin reedy notes. Evangeline opened and closed her mouth silently, pretending to join in with the unknown song.
A short balding man in a white robe emerged at the altar and the room fell silent. His clear Scottish voice boomed up to the vaulted ceilings and echoed off the back wall. Evangeline was overwhelmed by the power of the small man's voice.
She glanced around at the other parishioners as the sermon started. Was there going to be more singing? What should she do? She copied Miss Plockton and listened intently to the man's words.
"And Jesus met the ten lepers on the road..." the Reverend roared.
During her life in the circus and on the streets as a pickpocket, there had been no time for God. On the worst nights, when her stepfather spent all their money in the inns, leaving her hungry and alone in a squat, coming home drunk and beating her, she would curl in a ball and ask her mother for help. Evangeline's pleas went unanswered for years but eventually the Professor appeared. Whether this was God, Evangeline did not know. She only knew now was the time to repay the favour. Investigating and capturing the alchemist was her way of making amends.
She pulled herself away from the thrall of the Reverend's word and put her plan into action. It started with a tickle in her throat. A few modest throat clearings.
"Ahem. Ahem."
Miss Plockton glanced across, Evangeline covered her mouth demurely.
Then again. This time, a deeper cough.
Miss Plockton looked again, her displeasure clear across her face.
Then Evangeline coughed harder.
The parishioners on her left and right began to shuffle in their seats. Any sign of sickness in a crowded place was a cause for concern. Miss Plockton scowled deeply but Evangeline kept coughing, louder and louder.
"Excuse yourself, Miss Evangeline. Find a glass of water," she hissed.
Evangeline, red faced with exertion, nodded. She stood up and shuffled past the knees of her fellow parishioners.
"Sorry. Excuse me. My apologies."
She hurried up the aisle, coughing along the way for full effect. She slipped through the thick wooden doors into the hot Carlton streets.
The area between Sorrel and Ferguson Street was known as the Cast Iron district. Lacy cast iron work decorated every verandah, pillar and fence post in the fashionable parts of town. If a person wanted to source supplies of iron, this is the place they would come. For instance, a person who lived on Wellington Parade.
Evangeline grimaced. It was after six o'clock and the Cast Iron district was closing for the day. If only she had been able to escape the house earlier.
She walked up to the first Iron Works. A sweaty redheaded man with rolled up shirt-sleeves and a tweed jacket over his shoulder was locking the gate.
"Ain't you open?" she said. This was not the place for her new lady voice.
"Finished up for the day, duck," he replied. "Come back tomorra."
"Oh heavens. My employer will be rotten angry. I shouldn't've dallied on the way up here." Evangeline covered her eyes with her hands.
"Sorry. I've got to get home for me supper."
The man walked up onto the street, heading away from the Iron Works. Evangeline ran after him.
"My employer, they're a bit soft in the 'ead. They ordered some iron from one of the works here and they can't remember which one."
The man screwed up his face and guffawed.
"There's over a hundred works around here. Needle in a haystack, duck."
Evangeline was not pretending this time, when her shoulders slumped.
"What will I do?" she sighed. "I can't go back with nothin'."
"Sorry, love. It's been a bad day for all of us. Must be somethin' in the water."
"What happened to you?"
"My guvnor is mad as a wet hen. Some customer ripped him off royally."
"Nothing to do with gold, is it?" Evangeline said.
"How do you know?" the ironworker said with surprise.
Another victim of the alchemist.
Across the quiet streets, the church bells of St. Andrew's pealed. There was no time to grill the ironworker further, she could not chance getting into deeper trouble with Miss Plockton.
"Thank you, sir," Evangeline said and dashed away, running along the street as fast as she could, back to the church. She bolted across the street, narrowly missing a milk cart led by two black horses, and rolled her ankle in a divot in the road. Grimacing, she kept running until she flopped down on the church steps, frantically fanning herself with her skirts, as the main doors creaked open.
Miss Plockton emerged with a face as dark as her dress. Evangeline jumped to her feet and rushed over to her.
"I am so sorry, Miss Plockton. It was something in my throat. Maybe a fly or something. The Professor's nasal dust protector needs a few more tweaks."
Miss Plockton pursed her lips tightly, yet burst into a wide smile as the Reverend approached. This was a revelation, Evangeline never knew Miss Plockton could smile.
"Father Inverpepper. A lovely sermon as always." She gushed in a not very Miss Plockton way. Evangeline smirked as she watched Miss Plockton's girlish excitement.
"Thank you, Miss Plockton. And I see you have brought along a bonny new face."
"Yes, this is the Professor's daughter, Father. Miss Evangeline Caldicott."
Evangeline awkwardly curtseyed, unsure of the correct etiquette for meeting a man of the cloth.
"Welcome, Miss Caldicott. I hope you enjoyed my sermon and our church here. We are a simple, honest congregation. Living by the word of the Lord."
"Oh yes, it was very inspiring, sir."
"I hope we will see you again."
He turned to the next parishioner, holding up a rosy cheeked child.
"Now, home with you, Miss Evangeline." Miss Plockton turned back into her regimented soldier voice and marched Evangeline back to the cab.
Disheartened at the prospect of returning empty handed, Evangeline was quiet all the way home. The alchemist was proving more elusive than she anticipated.
Chapter 13
"Botheration."
The Professor lifted his visor to inspect his welding. The replacement probe on his alchemy detector had failed to meld, clattering to the flagstone floor as soon as he extinguished the blue flame.
"I don't understand. Why is this not sealing?"
Evangeline sat on a stool nearby, her eyes shielded by a visor too large for her small head. Watching her father work wa
s infinitely more enjoyable than her lessons in the sitting room. The Professor's every move was memorised for her own secret experiments in her bedroom. Although, welding in her bedroom may not be the best idea.
"The probe moves when it is touched against alchemised gold?" she asked
"Not quite. When placing an alchemised substance between the two coils, the electric current reads its true nature and the probe responds by vibrating wildly. Well, that's how it was designed to work. Something is not quite right."
"It can detect magic?"
The Professor hemmed and hawed.
"I thought you were a man of science who did not believe in magic?"
The Professor smoothed down his moustache with his creaking brass fingers.
"There are many unknowns in this world. We are only now embarking on great scientific discoveries. We may call it magic now, but I am sure in time, we will understand the true science behind everything."
Evangeline nodded, although she did not completely understand what the Professor meant.
"So you do believe in magic?"
"I have built a few devices which can detect electrical energies. Those energies exist but we do not understand where they come from. Some people can manifest these energies from somewhere within their bodies. Some use it for good purposes and some for evil."
The Professor opened a drawer and pulled out a long brass cylinder, retractable like a telescope. He handed the cylinder to Evangeline.
"My atervis detector. I developed this in England, when investigating a series of... disturbances... in my old home in Bloomsbury."
"An apparition?"
Evangeline's spine tingled deliciously.
"An energy field. This device identifies energy using a gemstone known as nuummite. Some people say this stone allows you to see black magic. In my opinion, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation. The stone identifies unusual energy fields."
Evangeline took the brass cylinder in her hand and looked through the eye-piece.
"I don't see anything," she said disappointedly.
"There is probably nothing to see here. If there was an unusual energy, it glows with a silver aura."
"Do you think there are apparitions in this house?"
"This weather is causing havoc with my joints. Dust everywhere." The Professor chuckled, squeezing oil into the cogs of his clockwork hand. "I have been living in this house for over a year now and I have not experienced anything out of the ordinary. Has Miss Plockton mentioned something? The Scots tend to be a superstitious breed."
"No one has mentioned anything supernatural in the house. But maybe there is something creeping about behind the wainscoting."
"I see no harm in exploring. But don't take the detector out of the house. There are many bad eggs out there, people who know how to use these energies. Those who take pleasure in wickedness."
"I know that," Evangeline muttered, looking down at her boots. Her stepfather's face appeared in her mind. Although he was thousands of miles away in England, the mere thought of him filled Evangeline with dread.
"Of course, my dear." The Professor blustered, reaching out a clumsy, comforting hand. "I only want you to be safe. I can't make up for those years we were estranged. But now you are under my protection, I want to ensure you are happy."
"And I am," Evangeline replied.
She had everything a young lady could want. A loving family, all the food she could eat, pretty dresses and a warm comfortable bed. She no longer had to beg or steal or perform on the streets. Her gratitude to the Professor was endless. Many men would have denied their paternity but the Professor was a good man, welcoming Evangeline into his family.
Evangeline took another look through the magic detector.
She gasped.
Through the eye-piece Evangeline saw a faint glimmer of silver, emerging from one of the Professor's trunks in the corner.
"There! I see silver."
The Professor leaped to his feet and with the speed of a man half his age and size, slammed the trunk lid closed.
"Time for bed, young lady. Don't stay up too late looking for ghouls."
"But Father. The trunk?"
"Good night, Evangeline," the Professor said firmly.
"Good night, Father," she said, defeated.
Another secret for another time.
Evangeline pecked her father's cheek, feeling his hard metal fingertips against her shoulder blade.
"I am glad you are here," he whispered in her ear.
She smiled and closed the door behind her, the magic detector in her hand. It would soon be ten o'clock.
Chapter 14
At the first strike of the Town Hall clock, Evangeline slipped out the window, shimmied down the drain pipe and dropped to the ground with the stealth of a cat. The house was quiet. Lights glowed from Miss Plockton's room in the attic and Uncle Edmund's study, windows wide open, desperate to catch any whiff of cool night air. The Professor was underground in his workshop, still mending the probe on his alchemy detector. Evangeline hoped he would be pleased when she returned having solved the mystery of the alchemist and not too annoyed that his repairs were in vain.
Crossing the courtyard, she opened the door leading to the back laneway. Evangeline winced as the hinges squealed in protest. The new gaslights did not extend to the back lanes so Evangeline treaded carefully to avoid any piles of night soil.
Mei was leaning against the brick wall, waiting.
"Ready?" Evangeline whispered.
"You're the late one."
Mei was dressed in a traditional black Oriental jacket and trousers. Evangeline cursed her full skirted dress with its boning and reams of fabric, wishing for her practical, yet immodest, acrobat's leotard. But her skirts had deep pockets, perfect for holding magic detectors.
They followed the laneway to Spring Street in silence. This was a genteel area filled with good families, but the scoundrel filled slums were only streets away. Evangeline was not concerned, she and Mei were no ordinary young ladies.
Stepping out into the gaslight, they dashed across the street, past the doric columns of Parliament House and the building site for the new Ministry for the Advancement of Profitable Enterprises. The building commissioned by the Governor and designed by Evangeline's very own Uncle Edmund. She smiled proudly at the blocks of sandstone and could not wait to see the final result. She was blessed with such a clever family.
They darted through the shadows, avoiding cabs clipping down the road and drunks weaving back and forth along the footpath. Evangeline's heart palpitated in her chest, twittering with excitement. They crossed into the wilds of Fitzroy Gardens, their senses on high alert for bandits or robbers. The Argus was filled with daily stories of bushrangers hiding in the Gardens and a park keeper was now permanently employed to keep out the criminals. Evangeline and Mei evaded the light, scurrying from tree to tree and bush to bush.
Then the most awful noise blared, an inhuman screech sounded from deep inside the park. A spine-scraping wail like nothing Evangeline had ever heard before.
"The Bunyip," Mei exclaimed. "Hurry."
"The what?"
"Quick."
Evangeline grabbed the brass atervis detector from her pocket and peered through the lens, scanning the park in the direction of the frightening screech. She gasped as a blur of silver darted through the darkness. Something was out there.
"Run," Evangeline squealed.
They bolted past the statue of Diana and the Stag and kept running until they safely crossed the walkway over the creek and into East Melbourne. The friends scurried like mice between the bushes, past the mansions circling the Gardens, until they reached the wide, tree lined boulevard of Wellington Parade. Evangeline spied a round wide bush, perfect for hiding two slight young females, and pulled Mei into the protection of its branches.
"What's that telescope?"
"The Professor lent me one of his inventions. It is called an atervis detector. You peer through the end
and it reveals the aura of magic."
"Magic detectors?"
"He designed it especially for seeking out dark energy."
"And he let you borrow it?"
"I wasn't to leave the house with it. But how could I not? It is the perfect implement to find the alchemist."
"We're gonna walk down the street with the telescope looking for magic?" Mei scoffed. "Crafty."
"Do you have a better plan?"
Mei shrugged.
"And when we do find this magic? What then? We call your friends, the police?"
"Pfft. Police. This is our chance to be heroines, Mei. We could be on the front page of The Argus solving the crime. It's so exciting."
"Sounds like a wild goose chase to me."
"We know the house address is in Wellington Parade and had two digits. And here's number 10. Let's start."
Evangeline walked along with the atervis detector firmly attached to her right eye, inspecting each home from top to bottom, looking for any hints of the silvery aura of black magic.
"How long is Wellington Parade?" Mei yawned.
They had only walked past three mansions. Evangeline shrugged. Mei began to dawdle behind her, dragging her flat slippers against the iron gates of the palatial homes.
The minutes turned into half an hour as Evangeline and Mei scoured Wellington Parade for any evidence of magic. But there was no trace of a silver aura through the lens. Her arm was tiring and a sore spot was wearing under the ball of her foot. Her boots were not designed for traipsing such distances. Mei plucked leaves from nearby trees and lagged further and further behind.
The Antics of Evangeline: Collection 1: Mystery and Mayhem in steampunk Melbourne Page 5