The House of Hidden Wonders

by Sharon Gosling

  “I can’t tell you,” Zinnie said, wishing she’d never come here this morning. Part of her wanted to tell Conan Doyle about Aelfine, about all of it. But she’d promised not to give her new sister up to the doctors of whom she was so terrified. And besides they were just one more day away from everything falling into place without Zinnie needing to break her confidence.

  “You just have to trust me. Everything will be fine after the seance.”

  “Miss Zinnie—”

  “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t ask me. I promised.”

  Conan Doyle frowned at her. “But it has to do with MacDuff and all will be revealed at the seance?” At Zinnie’s nod, he sighed heavily. “Oh, Miss Zinnie. What have you got yourself into?”

  “It’ll be worth it,” Zinnie said, trying to convince herself as much as him. “It’s all going to be fine.”

  He watched her for another moment and then nodded. “If your mind is made up, then I suppose there’s not much I can do, is there?”

  “No,” said Zinnie. Then she was hit by a brainwave so blindingly brilliant she almost dropped her coffee cup. “Yes! I need Lady Sarah’s help. Her butler will shut the door in my face if I go there alone, but not if you’re there.”

  Conan Doyle made a face, sipped his coffee and then rang for the butler again to ask for his carriage.

  “More subterfuge? How perfectly wonderful!” exclaimed Lady Sarah. Today the scarlet bird was perched directly on her shoulder. The brilliant red of its feathers contrasted starkly with the yellow satin of the dress Lady Sarah wore as it rubbed its great beak against her cheek and watched the room with a beady eye. Zinnie tried to imagine this grand lady hacking her way through a jungle but just couldn’t.

  “You know, I’ve been wondering about that man MacDuff myself. He was so very bullish at the seance. And I’ve been dying to look round the House of Wonders, but alas it’s still not open.”

  “I doubt he will refuse you, my lady,” said Conan Doyle.

  “Say you’re leaving town and you wanted to see it before you left, so you can tell all your friends whether they should make the effort to go themselves,” Zinnie suggested. “That should do the trick.”

  “Still, it would be uncouth to simply turn up on his doorstep entirely unannounced,” said Lady Sarah. “He might be out.”

  “Even better,” said Zinnie. “None of his lackeys would turn away Lady Sarah Montague – and her maid – now, would they?” Zinnie held up the bag she’d brought. It still contained the uniform she’d borrowed the night of the seance.

  Lady Sarah considered this and then looked at Conan Doyle. “Can we use your carriage, Arthur, since it’s here already?”

  “Of course, Lady Sarah.”

  “You know what this is about, I suppose?”

  “Actually, my lady, I am as much in the dark as you are.”

  Lady Sarah’s eyes twinkled. “Indeed? Well, it’s about time someone played Arthur at his own game. Is he to accompany us on this outing, Zinnie?”

  “That’s a good idea,” Zinnie said. “Lady Sarah can keep MacDuff occupied and Mr Conan Doyle can keep an eye open while I do what I need to do.”

  A flicker of doubt danced across Lady Sarah’s face. “I realize I am about to willingly aid a criminal activity. You can assure me this is for the very best of reasons?”

  “The very best,” Zinnie said. “You’ll see that soon. I promise.”

  Their luck, it turned out, was at its best. MacDuff was not in, attending to some matter elsewhere in the town. Conan Doyle got out to knock, leaving Lady Sarah and Zinnie in the carriage at the kerb. One glimpse of her ladyship in all her finery had sent the clerk who opened the door into a fluster.

  “What a very great pity,” Lady Sarah called, leaning through the carriage window, the plumes of her ostrich-feather hat fluttering lightly in the breeze. “I leave town on Sunday and will be gone for some months. I was hoping to see the exhibits before I went.”

  “Well,” said the clerk nervously, “I am sorry, my lady, but—”

  “We know, of course,” added Conan Doyle, “that Mr MacDuff, having himself been a guest at Montague House, would be loath to think that he had turned away Lady Sarah, who has so very many friends among the sort of people he would love to have as visitors here.”

  The clerk’s face went pale. “Well, I mean – that is to say, sir, I’m sure Mr MacDuff would not dream of turning Lady Sarah away were he here himself to receive her.”

  Conan Doyle raised his eyebrows. “But is there no one within that he trusts to conduct a tour in his stead? Dear oh dear, that sounds rather worrying.”

  “Not at all, sir. I am very knowledgeable about each exhibit and trusted by Mr MacDuff himself, but—”

  “Excellent!” Conan Doyle exclaimed, turning back to the carriage, flicking open the door and holding out his hand. “Marvellous! Then that’s the answer. My lady, if you please…”

  Before the clerk knew it, Lady Sarah Montague, her full height over seven feet when feathers, boots and all were accounted for, was standing on the doorstep of the House of Wonders, her dress gleaming like gold beneath her travelling cloak. What could he do but welcome her in? Zinnie slipped in behind them, so plain in her borrowed maid’s outfit that her presence was entirely eclipsed by Lady Sarah’s customary ostentation. The clerk didn’t even notice she was there, so preoccupied was he with his other two guests.

  “Now,” said Lady Sarah, once inside, “let’s see what you have, my man.”

  “Not everything is finished, my lady. Some of the exhibits—”

  “Never mind that. I shall make allowances, of course.” She strode ahead, leading the clerk into the semi-darkness of the rooms. “Ah, what an impressive array of weaponry. Do you have curare darts and blowpipes from the jungle regions of South America? I have always been curious to see them. Such an ingenious method of dispatching one’s enemies.”

  Zinnie hung back, letting the party draw ahead of her. The lower level and entrance to the house were laid out in much the same way as the floor above that she had already seen. A ticket booth stood to one side and beyond it a series of interconnected rooms full of cabinets. To her left, behind the booth, was a curved staircase, a rope across it closing it off to visitors. She waited until the other three had turned their attention to the first cabinet, the clerk’s voice stuttering nervously as he launched into an explanation of its contents. Then, in the space of a heartbeat, Zinnie was under the rope and up the stairs.

  They led her to the other end of the floor she’d already seen once. Directly ahead was the room where Aelfine and Ruby had been destined to spend their days. Zinnie’s feet were silent on the floor as she headed not for the cage itself, but for the fortune-teller’s tent.

  But it was no longer there.

  The dismay of this discovery brought Zinnie to a shocked standstill. The room now contained nothing but Aelfine’s enclosure, empty and dark but still ominous. Zinnie turned round, as if she might have somehow been disoriented by her arrival up different stairs, and saw a pile of objects in one corner. In the dim light, it took her a moment to realize that it was actually the tent – it had been dismantled ready for removal, proof that MacDuff knew for sure that the fortune-teller would not return.

  Zinnie hurried over to the pile and was relieved to find the trunk she’d seen on her first visit half buried beneath woven rugs. She shoved them from its top and fumbled open the lid. Within was the same pile of dresses. Zinnie pulled one out and then plunged her hands to the very bottom of the trunk, searching for the fortune-teller’s trinket. She knew she had minutes at most – she couldn’t risk being caught. Then her fingers brushed something round and hard and she grabbed at the object, drawing it out. The crystal ball shone strangely in the weak light.

  Zinnie pulled out a headscarf too and closed the trunk, wrapping the crystal ball in the scarf and then in one of the dresses as she gathered it up. She pushed this bundle into the bag that had previously carried the maid’
s outfit and slung it over her shoulder. Then she made for the door she had used to enter the first time she had sneaked in.

  Once through it, she could hear banging and hammering from the second floor. The rest of the house seemed to be quiet. In front of her were the stairs that led down to the ground floor, while the main staircase continued up to her left. To her right there was a corridor that obviously ran behind the rear wall of the exhibition rooms, with doors to rooms on its left side. This wasn’t as richly decorated as the exhibition rooms themselves and was obviously meant only for those who worked at the house, not visitors – exactly what Zinnie was looking for.

  She slipped along the corridor, checking behind her to be sure that no one was coming. She listened at each door she came to, mindful that there might be people working within, but could hear nothing. Then she arrived at a door that bore a brass plate with what was probably a name engraved upon it. Who else, Zinnie thought, would have a private room named after themselves in a place called Phineas MacDuff’s House of Wonders?

  She tried the handle and found the door unlocked. Beyond it was an office, complete with a floor-to-ceiling bookcase of dusty volumes, another wall of smaller masks like the ones she had seen downstairs, two armchairs and an oversized desk set in front of a large window, behind which was a high-backed wooden chair with a jacket draped over it.

  Zinnie crossed to the desk and quickly began to search. She found ledgers and letters, playbills and gilt-edged invitations, incomprehensible things that meant nothing to her. She worked her way down the four drawers on one side of the desk and then started on the other side. In the one at the top, she found a box of new, neatly rolled handkerchiefs and her heart gave a kick. Her hopes were dashed, however, when she realized the box was still sealed. If she opened it, surely MacDuff would realize that something was amiss.

  Then the jacket over the back of the chair caught her eye – was there a kerchief already in it? She slipped her fingers into the top pocket and, sure enough, there one was – neatly folded. She shook it out to find it bore exactly what she’d hoped it would. In one corner was a name neatly embroidered in blue. Zinnie stuffed it into the bag with her other purloined objects and was about to close the drawer when she saw something pushed to the back of it that gave her pause.

  It was a small, stained cardboard box, still half wrapped in the brown paper in which it had been delivered. The string that had tied it closed was loose. There was no address on the paper but there was a white tag attached to the string.

  Something about the box made Zinnie pull it out and set it on the desk. The white tag bore a brief line of words, none of which she could read, and some numbers. She’d always found numbers easier than letters, and to her these looked like a date. Yesterday’s date. She loosened the string enough to open the box a fraction and found herself staring at a pair of severed human ears.

  For a moment she felt sick. Then she pulled herself together and looked in the drawer for a pencil and a sheet of paper.

  Zinnie quietly closed the door of MacDuff’s office and went back the way she had come. By the time she reached Lady Sarah, Conan Doyle and the clerk again, they were in the final room on the ground floor. Lady Sarah seemed fascinated by a display of leather armour that had been worn by a small tribe of women in the Andaman Islands.

  “I must get my seamstress to come here,” she was murmuring, her nose almost pressed up against the cabinet glass. “That breastplate is precisely what I need for my next expedition. And those leg guards…”

  Zinnie cleared her throat. “Lady Sarah,” she said quietly. “You asked me to remind you of the time.”

  “Oh!” said the clerk, looking at Zinnie in surprise. “Forgive me – where did you come from?”

  “My maid Zinthia you mean, young man?” said Lady Sarah, straightening up. “Dear me, she arrived with us and has been behind me the entire time. Not very observant, are you?”

  The clerk, red-faced, stuttered an apology, but Lady Sarah had already turned to Zinnie. “Should I be getting to my other appointment?”

  “Yes, my lady, if you don’t wish to be late.”

  “Very well, we must go. Thank you,” she said to the clerk. “Conan Doyle here will reward you for your service. And I will be sure to tell all I meet that the House of Wonders will be well worth a visit.”

  “Th-thank you, my lady,” stammered the clerk, following in the trio’s wake as Lady Sarah swept ahead of them all towards the door. “But are you sure you won’t stay until Mr MacDuff returns? He’ll be sorry that he missed you.”

  “Quite sure, my good man,” said Lady Sarah, as the clerk rushed ahead of them to open the door. “You did an admirable job, you know. I shall make sure MacDuff hears of it.”

  “You are too kind, my lady.”

  A moment later, they were back in Conan Doyle’s carriage and rattling away from George Street.

  “Well?” Conan Doyle asked, as soon as they were on the move. “That’s a full bag you’ve got there, Miss Zinnie. What did you find?”

  “You must let me out once we’re round the corner,” Zinnie said instead of answering. “There’s somewhere I need to go straight away.”

  “But Zinnie, you can’t rope us into nefarious deeds and not tell us their purpose!” Lady Sarah cried, throwing up her hands. “We must know – we must!”

  “You will, I swear,” Zinnie promised. “But not yet. After—”

  “The seance?” Conan Doyle interrupted. “Is that what you were about to say?”

  “The seance?” Lady Sarah asked. “What does the seance have to do with anything?”

  Conan Doyle shook his head grimly. “Miss Zinnie intends to reveal all she knows tomorrow night, in front of what I think she is intending to be witnesses,” he said.

  “Not me,” said Zinnie. “I won’t need to reveal anything at all.”

  “Still, Miss Zinnie, you are in this – whatever it is – up to your neck,” said Conan Doyle. “And that worries me greatly.”

  “Why?” Zinnie asked. “Because I’m a girl?”

  “Not at all,” he said darkly. “It’s because I think you underestimate Phineas MacDuff.”

  “You’ve got that back to front, Mr Conan Doyle. He’s the one who underestimates me.”

  “My dear girl – and with great respect – I doubt he even realizes you exist.”

  Zinnie flashed him a grin. “Exactly.” She knocked on the carriage roof and raised her voice. “Stop, please. I need to get out.”

  “Zinnie,” said Lady Sarah, as Zinnie jumped down to the pavement, the bag still over her shoulder. “I have great faith in you, whatever it is you’re up to. But please, for me – be careful, won’t you, my dear?”

  “I will.”

  Lady Sarah nodded. “Then we shall see you tomorrow.”

  “Yes, my lady. I’ll be waiting for you where Bank Street meets the Lawnmarket, at eleven o’clock sharp.”

  She began to run even before the horses had moved on, heading for the doctor’s clinic. When she got there, Sadie was sitting beside Nell’s bed, teaching the little girl her letters with the aid of a slate and a piece of chalk.

  “Zinnie!” Nell cried, leaping out of bed so quickly that Sadie only just caught the slate before it crashed to the floor. “Why are you dressed as a maid?”

  “Hello, pippin,” Zinnie said, as the little girl flung her arms round her waist and hugged tightly. “Just fancied a change. What do you think?”

  Nell considered, her head on one side and her eyes narrowed. “I think you look strange in a dress.”

  Zinnie laughed. “I think you’re right. And as for you – well, aren’t you looking just as fine and dandy as a daisy?”

  Nell gave a smile as wide as the sky. “I feel right as rain,” she declared. “And now I want to come home with you and Sadie. Can I come home, please? Please say I can, please!” She paused for breath and coughed a little as she caught it.

  Zinnie hoisted the little girl up and into bed again. �
��You’re still coughing, pippin. Not quite right as rain yet, eh?”

  “It’s only because I was excited to see you!” Nell protested, indignant. “I’m not coughing much at all now, am I, Sadie? Tell her!”

  Sadie looked up at Zinnie. “She is much better,” she began and Nell made a happy noise. “But I don’t think it’d be wise for you to come home just yet, Nell. A few more days here will do you the world of good.”

  Nell pouted and looked as if she might argue.

  “Besides, if you come home now, it would spoil the surprise,” Zinnie said quickly, aiming to avoid a tantrum. “You have to stay here with the doctor for at least another two nights, while Sadie and I put it all in place.”

  “A surprise!” Nell said, her eyes wide. “What is it?”

  Zinnie laughed and ruffled Nell’s already unruly hair. “If we told you, it wouldn’t very well be a surprise, would it? You’ll find out soon enough. But for now, I need you to stay here and I need Sadie to come with me to help me get it ready. All right?” She looked at Sadie and jerked her chin, indicating she wanted to talk to her sister out of Nell’s hearing.

  “What is it?” Sadie whispered, once they were standing outside the door. “What’s going on?”

  Zinnie handed her the scrap of paper on which she’d carefully written down the letters from the white tag. Her writing was shaky but she’d been as careful as she could be in her copying.

  “What does that say?”

  Sadie looked at the piece of paper and frowned. “Where did you get this? And why are you dressed as a maid again?”

  “Just tell me what it says, Sadie.”

  “It says, ‘The past is coming for you.’” Sadie looked up at her. “Zinnie. What is this?”

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” Zinnie said, taking the piece of paper and putting it back in the pocket of her apron. “I’m going to need your help, though. Can you come with me?”

  “What, now?”