by H. L. Burke
Theo was gone.
Chapter Ten
Ellis stared into his teacup, his eyes hard and mouth a firm line. Nyssa slouched against the wall as the detectives picked over the study. Her stomach twisted, and in spite of Mrs. H’s coaxing, she’d refused even a bite of food.
The older of the two detectives, Simon, approached her. “It’s plain what happened. We’ll put out a description of the boy, but it’s what happens when you let a thief into your home, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Thanks. Next time we’ll just let an eight-year-old starve on the streets.” Nyssa scowled.
Detective Simon shrugged.
“No prints,” Detective Bastiat called. “Must’ve wiped it down for it to be this clean.”
“Not surprising.” Simon nodded. “Like I said, we’ll keep an eye out for the boy—”
“And Albert Glass?” Ellis frowned.
Simon drew a long breath. “Do you have any proof this man was involved? Honestly, with the access you gave him, the boy could’ve very well acted on his own.”
“He is eight.” Nyssa’s fingers clenched. “How many eight-year-old safe crackers do you know?”
“Could you have given him the combination? Left it lying on a paper somewhere?” Bastiat raised his eyebrows. “They came and went with no one hearing, after all. Awful easy.”
Nyssa shook her head. “There’s no way Theo knew the combination.”
“Ah … and were the contents of the safe insured?” Simon leaned forward.
Ellis sat up straighter. “They were but only for half their actual value.”
“Half their claimed value. I mean, we only have your word what was in the safe at all. Seems convenient. You take in a thief, report a threatening uncle no one actually sees, then without so much as waking the master in the next room, this uncle gets in and takes everything? You forget to lock the doors or something?”
Nyssa bit her tongue. Her reputation was already shot to ribbons. Shouting at police officers wouldn’t improve anyone’s opinion of her. “Excuse me. I need a breath of fresh air.” She stomped into the workshop and sank to the floor behind the counter.
She stuck her hand into her pocket and pulled out the watch. Flipping it open, she watched the whirring hands as the cat and mouse circled the face. Like in her dream. Was that what she had missed? That Theo was in league with her uncle? Or could the officers be right? Had he done it on his own? It wouldn’t have been hard to get the combination. Ellis used 3.14 for everything. The boy had helped her install the alarm … No, it had to have been Uncle Al, but why would Theo help him?
The creaking of Ellis’s wheelchair alerted her to his approach, but she didn’t look up, just slipped the watch into her pocket.
“Are you all right?” His voice was quiet, subdued.
“No. I feel stupid. It’s not a great sensation.”
His hand rested on top of her head. “You feel stupid? I’m the idiot who brought the kid into our home … it had to be a setup. From the moment I tossed him a coin on the boardwalk, I was pegged for an easy mark.”
Nyssa pulled up a stool and sat even with him. “You were just being decent, and that’s what makes me so mad.” She let out a hot breath. “When I was in Uncle Al’s grasp as a kid, I would’ve given anything for what we gave that boy. A chance to go straight? A home where no one hit me? Food, shelter … love?” Her voice cracked. “Blast me, Ellis, he made me love him. Do you know how many people I’ve actually loved since my parents died? Three. Only three, and this is why.” Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. “People are stupid. People would rather steal from each other than care for each other. People hurt people.” Her voice broke.
Ellis’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her onto his lap. She buried her face against his shoulder and sobbed.
“I’m so sorry, Nyss. I’m so, so sorry.” His lips caressed her forehead and tear-streaked cheeks. “I shouldn’t have forced the kid on you. It was stupid. I just thought …”
“It’s not your fault.” Nyssa sniffled.
He offered her a handkerchief, and she dabbed at her eyes.
“They aren’t taking our case too seriously.” Ellis scowled.
“I’m pretty sure they think we’re pulling a scam somehow. They’ve been watching us, just waiting for me to commit a crime, since my uncle sent that ‘anonymous tip.’” She traced his chin with her fingertips, taking comfort in his familiar features. “Maybe we should sell the shop and use the funds to leave San Azula. Start over again?”
“The value of this house won’t get us far.” He closed his eyes. “It might be time for Ellis Dalhart to reclaim his rightful fortune. I think I can prove who I am, step back into my old life, or what’s left of it. If I did, we’d never have to worry about money again.”
“Could Ellis Dalhart be with a wanted criminal like Nyssa Glass, though?” She frowned. “Dalhart Industries was based in New Taured. I can’t go back there until I’ve cleared my name—which by now is probably a lost cause. Consorting with me might be illegal, even. Could they arrest you for harboring me?”
“With my father’s fortune behind me, I could hire a crack team of lawyers.” He laughed.
“I guess.”
Someone cleared their throat. Nyssa scrambled out of Ellis’s arms and found Detective Simon in the doorway to the shop.
“We’ve gathered everything we’re going to find here. If anything comes of the investigation, we’ll follow up with you.”
Nyssa nodded. “All right.” The two detectives filed out.
“Anyone up for some breakfast?” Mrs. H called.
“She won’t give up until you’ve eaten something.” Ellis smiled.
“I guess a few bites of toast won’t kill me.” Nyssa sighed.
The salty tang of bacon greeted them when they entered the kitchen.
Mrs H stood at the griddle, flipping golden pancakes. “Did the officers leave already? I made enough to feed them too.”
“I think you made enough for the whole station.” Ellis picked up a steaming muffin from a basket on the table.
“Cooking helps me keep my mind off …” Mrs. H flushed. Her bottom lip quivered. “I just can’t believe that poor, dear boy robbed us. The police must be mistaken. Perhaps the real thieves kidnapped him. He’s so small and … they must be looking for him.”
“They said they’d keep an eye out for him,” Nyssa soothed.
Chances are, he’s already on a steamer headed for the Continent with Uncle Al.
“Are you going to keep your appointment with Amara?” Ellis asked between mouthfuls of muffins.
She shrugged. “She may be able to at least get the police off my back. I imagine a word from Lady Azores, or whatever she’s called now, would go a long way with local law enforcement. Also, I don’t like the idea of Uncle Al getting away with this. Maybe she can do something.” She sneaked her hand into her pocket. Theo’s watch felt cold against her fingers.
***
As Nyssa rode the trolley towards the town center, she went over everything Theo had ever said or done. He’d been frightened of Al not because of some sixth sense but because he knew him. When he disappeared after they returned from the clothing shop, had he possibly been meeting with Al? Did he even allow himself to get caught by the police so he could see Ellis again and get into the home? What would he have done if that failed?
The trolley stopped outside the massive square. Palm trees and marble walkways rolled like a carpet up to the steps of a giant mansion. A clockwork statue of a horse and rider stood on a pedestal. As Nyssa passed, the clock tower struck the hour and the horse reared on its hind legs, its metal workings whirring and buzzing.
“Sparks and shocks, I’m late.” Nyssa jogged up the steps to the large doors, her boot heels clicking on the polished stone.
A footman in a red uniform looked down his nose at her.
She cleared her throat. “I have an appointment with Amara Azores.”
&nb
sp; “Miss Glass? Yes, you are expected. Come inside.”
The footman led her through a broad, open foyer, spangled with crystal chandeliers and vases of pink, tropical flowers. He opened a side door to a small parlor with a velvet settee, a tea table with a lace doily, and a piano.
“The lady will be with you in a moment.” He bowed and left.
Nyssa settled on the settee. She’d worn her ruffled skirt and best peacoat, but still felt like a screwdriver in the silverware drawer. If she knew anything about Amara, the girl would be dolled up in silks and makeup. Well, Nyssa wasn’t here to impress her.
Theo’s watch weighed heavily in her breast pocket.
Why do I still have that thing? It’s not like the boy wanted to be with us … it was a stupid plan, though. How could he count on Ellis bringing him home? He couldn’t. It was a leap of faith, and Uncle Al’s plans never depended on faith.
She stood and ran her fingers across the ivory piano keys. It clinked pleasantly. Without Ellis to talk it over with, she resorted to discussing the mystery with herself.
“No, Theo being caught couldn’t be part of Uncle’s plan. What was it then? An accident. No, not assuming Theo was ever under Uncle Al’s training. Being caught was the only crime in his book. Shock me, the only time I ever got caught was when I wanted … to be.” Nyssa froze. When her uncle had gone to jail but his coworkers had insisted she work off his debts, she’d gotten so desperate she’d triggered an alarm in the next shop they’d had her rob. Mr. Calloway’s shop. The man who gave her a second chance. Could Theo have been trying to do the same thing? But if so, why had he gone back to Al?
“Oh Nyssa! It’s good to see you again!”
Nyssa leapt like a startled cat. She whirled around, gasping for air.
Amara arched a perfect eyebrow. “Goodness. You look wretched. Ellis’s telegram was so very vague … is something wrong?”
“A lot of things.” Nyssa settled back on the settee.
Amara wasn’t much older than her, with luscious dark curls and ruby red lips. As expected she wore a red silk dress and rose scented perfume, like she was on her way to the opera rather than meeting a casual acquaintance for lunch.
Nyssa launched into the tale, but even as she told the story, so many parts just didn’t fit together.
“So sad about the poor boy,” Amara said when Nyssa had finished. “I wonder what he was doing in league with your uncle, anyway. The man doesn’t strike me as the type to take in homeless children out of the goodness of his heart.”
“Well, he did sort of do the same with me, after my parents died.”
“True. I can call down to the harbormaster and have them look out for your uncle. If he entered the country legally, there might be some records of him at customs.”
“That would be helpful, but it will probably be too late. I’m sure by the time they send over the records, Al will be long gone.” Nyssa sighed.
Amara brightened. “Oh, there’s something I need to show you in Renard’s office. You’ll love this!”
She led Nyssa down a hall and up a stair into an office with a massive cherry wood desk, two videophones, and a typewriter on a small table, probably for a secretary to take dictation with.
Amara opened a cabinet. “I know you and Ellis are all about inventions and technology. This is the latest in instantaneous communication.” She pulled out a device that looked a bit like a videophone but with a tray beneath with a row of pointed nibs, like the tips of fountain pens. Beneath this lay a roll of crisp, white paper.
Amara looked up something in a small leather book on the desk then keyed in a frequency with the knobs under the videophone screen. A middle aged man with small glasses perched high on his nose wavered into view.
His eyes widened. “Lady Amara? I was not expecting a call from you today. Is there something you need?”
“Nyssa, this is Alphonse. He’s the harbor master’s secretary. Alphonse, I need a teensy favor.” Amara flashed him a beaming smile. “We need to find the custom records for someone who recently entered the country.”
“Do you know their name? The dates they entered? Their method of transport?”
“Albert Glass, sometime last week … and I think he said on a steamer, but I don’t know if that will be helpful.”
“Well, it is off season, so we don’t see as many passenger ships. Give me a moment.” The man left the screen. Papers rustled.
Nyssa chewed on her bottom lip. What do I really hope to gain from this? Still, Amara seems eager to help. I don’t want to discourage her.
“Here it is.” Alphonse returned holding a paper. “We do have record of him entering … It doesn’t look as if a departure has been filed. He may still be on the island … though sometimes it takes a while for the various clerks to update such things.”
“Be a dear and send us the document through the pantelegraph. I want to look it over.”
“Of course, my lady.” Alphonse nodded. The image blinked out.
“Pantelegraph?” Nyssa frowned.
“It’s the newest thing. Renard and I have been playing with it all week, sending photographs and poems. It’s so exciting. I’m not exactly sure how it works, but rather than sending words through a telegraph, it tells the machine to copy an image and … oh! It’s starting.”
The roll of paper began to turn and the nibs twitch. A document spooled into the tray, the ink still damp. Nyssa raised her eyebrows, longing to crack the whole machine open and see how it worked.
Amara picked up the paper and blew on the ink. “Let’s see. Albert Glass entered the country, declaring no significant items of value. Oh look, your little boy is on here too, as a minor under his care. Oh … you didn’t tell me you were related to the boy.”
Nyssa’s heart thumped. “I didn’t know. How do you?”
“Well, he’s listed as Theo Glass and under ‘nature of guardianship’ your uncle has ‘father.’”
Cold washed over Nyssa. Of course. Al and his “family obligations.” That whole speech he gave outside of the shop about “taking in a family member,” that hadn’t been just for her benefit. Theo had been listening too.
That monster was threatening Theo right in front of me, and I didn’t even know it. Oh dear Lord, why didn’t I protect him?
“There’s an address for the hotel he intends to stay at. Will that help you?” Amara asked.
“I’ll check it out, but chances are it’s a false one. I can’t see my uncle putting that on official paperwork, especially considering what he came here for.” Nyssa’s shoulders slumped. What if Theo was gone forever? She shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.
Why didn’t I give him the grace Mr. Calloway gave me? I’m a rotten mentor, and Theo will pay the price. Oh God, please forgive me and maybe give me another chance. Help me bring Theo home.
Amara patted Nyssa’s hand. “You’ve had a rough few days. Let’s go have lunch. The food here will perk anyone up.”
Nyssa shook her head. “I’m not in the mood. It just doesn’t feel right while Theo’s out there.”
“But is there anything you can do? Let me write an official telegram to the chief of police, encouraging them to take the case more seriously. The Azores name carries a lot of clout, even if you only came by it through marriage.” Amara tilted her nose into the air, ever so slightly.
Nyssa smiled. “Thank you, but I really ought to go home. Ellis agreed to stay at the shop in case the police called about Theo, and I hate to leave him alone for too long.”
Amara nodded. “I’ll see you out, then.”
***
Nyssa strolled through the courtyard, wondering what to do next.
There’s as much a chance of the clockwork horse dropping a foal as Uncle Al really staying at the ritzy hotel he gave as his address … but he had to stay somewhere while he was here. Maybe he’s still there … with Theo.
She stopped at the corner to wait for the trolley. A mother and her young son also stood there, the boy
perhaps a little younger than Theo and wearing the knee pants Theo had so despised.
He seemed so happy. Would he have let Al take him without a struggle? He should’ve called for help or at least left me a clue.
The trolley approached, a cloud of steam billowing behind it. Nyssa climbed aboard and held the strap. To get home on this one, she’d have to take the full circle, but she could use the time to think. The mother and child settled on a bench nearby. The boy gawked at the engineer just like Theo had. Nyssa turned away and stared out the window.
A few stops later, the fine houses around the town center gave way to the smaller homes and shops as they drew near the wharf. She took the watch out of her pocket and flipped it open to watch the cat and mouse chase each other.
Am I the cat or mouse now? Feels like I’ve been both as of late.
The two cardboard creatures slowed their frantic orbit as the mechanism wound down. Nyssa tilted the watch to reach the wind-up dial and something white fluttered to the floor of the trolley.
She pounced on it.
Bloo hows by water. Git yer stuf. Sory.
Nyssa’s breath quickened.
“Blue house by water?” she whispered. “By water” could mean the harbor, maybe. My stuff is there? Oh, but Theo, will you be there?
A dozen plans flashed through her head. Go get the police. No, call Amara and have her use her influence on the police. No, call Ellis … but whatever course she took would take time. It could be too late. Theo could be gone.
“Next stop, Harbor Drive,” the engineer called out.
The trolley jerked to a halt. Nyssa sprang through the door and out onto the street.
As the trolley rattled away, she breathed in air tainted by fish and motor oil. The streaked gray walls of a fish cannery towered above dingy taverns and market stalls.
A blue house … most of the houses here were the same shade of grimy.
Adjusting her peacoat, Nyssa picked her way around murky puddles and trash, scanning the side streets for any structure that might possibly be described as blue.