The Iron Heart

by Leslie Dicken

  “Certainly.”

  And then he and Ella were once again alone.

  She made her way over to a stool and sank upon it. Her lip quivered. “No, no.” She shook her head. “No one else should have died.”

  An impulse screamed to go to her. He should kiss the top of her head, hold her in his arms. Instead, he kept his ground. “Don’t,” he murmured.

  Ella’s glare returned. “Don’t what? Don’t mourn for another loss?”

  He sighed. “Don’t blame yourself.”

  Pain sliced down his throat and scoured in his gut. He was the one to blame. These deaths were his fault. As if with his own hands, he snuffed the life from these women.

  “I don’t blame myself.” She blinked shining eyes. “You are responsible.”

  Bennett recoiled, a blow struck to his chest. She could not know. It wasn’t possible.

  “I told you he would strike again. I begged you make something for girls to protect themselves—”

  “I did—”

  “Apparently it wasn’t enough. You disappear every night to who knows where, probably a brothel in your district, instead of hunting down this monster.”

  He sucked in a deep breath. She didn’t know. She had no idea where he went every night and why.

  “I…I do not visit a brothel.” Never, never again.

  Her hands went on her hips. “Then where do you go? You won’t tell me. What could be such a huge secret?”

  Bennett retrieved his shirt and redressed. Once he was finished he went to the door. “Are you staying to view the body or returning to Hilltop Hall?”

  “Staying, of course. You aren’t rid of me yet.”

  The problem was that he no longer wished to be rid of her. Only this nightmare which continued to plague them.

  They crossed through the exhibition hall, but Ella stopped midway.

  “What do you have covered here?”

  He sighed. “It’s nothing. Let’s move on and have the room ready.”

  “More automatons, aren’t they? You have more to sell?”

  The venom in her voice chilled the room.

  “Ella, you know I create these, why do you persist in troubling me about them?”

  “Because you are ruining the lives of others.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I intend to make you aware of it.”

  Bennett almost laughed. As if anyone could not be aware of her passions.

  She crossed her arms. “Have you ever read my paper, The District Guardian?”

  “No.”

  “Hmph. Well that explains it.”

  “Why would I need to read what you can plainly tell me? Besides, you are not the only one with these beliefs.”

  She slid a nasty glare to the covered figures near the wall. “And yet you continue to make them.”

  “Yes, I continue to make them. Because I believe they are a sign of progress. They can help more than they harm.” At least that used to be his belief until his first experiment went so unbearably wrong.

  Craft appeared at the end of the room. “My lord.”

  Instantly, Ella’s focus changed and she hurried toward the butler. He followed.

  “The body has been placed in the ice room.”

  Bennett nodded. “We are on our way.”

  The frigid air shocked them as they walked into the room. Ella was not dressed for this temperature. He remembered how she shivered the day they looked over Rosemary Sanders. Her lips had turned blue. She’d been so cold to the touch when he demonstrated the killer’s grasp. Instead of mimicking an attack, he’d wanted rub his hands over her skin.

  Today she looked just as cold, but she stood apart from him. He wasn’t sure if it was the result of viewing the body or her anger at the clockworks.

  Bennett approached the table. Dr. Elmsworth had not yet arrived and so the woman lay on the metal still dressed in her torn and bloody clothes. A deep gash stretched across her throat, the obvious mark of her death.

  “She is just like all the others.” Ella stood at his side.

  Bennett closed his eyes briefly, tried to remember last night, to recall those lost hours of time. But nothing would come to him. Nothing except the delirious thoughts of his lips on Ella’s skin, his hands on her breasts.

  He’d failed. Again.

  His chest tightened and he stumbled for the next breath.

  She crossed her arms in attempt to keep herself warm. “Should we remove her clothes to check for other signs? Maybe there are clues. Something, anything, to identify her attacker.”

  He didn’t need to identify her attacker. He knew. Without a doubt, he knew who’d killed these girls.

  “Never mind.” Ella chewed her lower lip and moved away. “I don’t want to see what’s beneath her dress. I don’t want to be a witness to the marks of this killer for a third time.”

  She found a chair by the wall and lowered into it.

  Again, Bennett felt a compulsion to go to her. Yet, he stood as he was, immobile and resolute.

  She stared at the floor. “I had never seen so much blood before.”

  “I agree there is a lot of dried blood on her dress, but—”

  “No.” Ella’s eyes lifted to his, now shining. “On Jenny. Miles found her in the alley. A crumpled heap, slumped against a wall. Her neck had been slashed.”

  Her cheeks burned pink and tears streaked down the center of them. “She was delivering something for my uncle, Bennett. A repair from the shop. She wasn’t a prostitute.”

  He stared at her, his throat closing in, his stomach knotting.

  “Jenny was going to marry Miles. What did she do to deserve this?”

  Dear Lord, she must stop. Agony and guilt ripped through him. A hole tore in his heart and across his soul.

  But once roused, Ella did not stop. Instead, she stood and moved forward. “What kind of person would snuff out another’s life without reason?”

  She stood before him. Her eyes were rimmed in red, her face blotched, her lip trembling. Never before had Bennett seen her so vulnerable. Pain emanated from every breath, every heartbeat.

  Pain that he’d caused. The monster he’d created.

  Dear Lord, everything had gone so unspeakably wrong.

  He didn’t deserve her. She shouldn’t trust him.

  “Ella…”

  The plea was meant to drive her away.

  Instead, she fell against him then wrapped her arms around his body. She sobbed quietly against his shirt.

  At first, Bennett held his arms out, as if touching her would scald him to the bone. But gradually, he softened and brought his hands to her back.

  She trembled, perhaps from cold, more likely from anguish. He held her tighter, permitting her to share her sorrow with him, to ease her agony with his gentle touch.

  She would never forgive him. Never.

  He had to do something more. He must focus on the task at hand. He had the tools at his disposal to stop the beast, but he’d allowed himself to lose direction. To become distracted.

  Bennett held her until her shudders ceased and her breathing returned to normal.

  “I will put an end to this,” he murmured atop her hair. “But you must promise me to stay away from Lundun.”

  She stepped away from him. “I-I can’t do that.”

  Ire danced on his tongue. Stubborn woman. “Why the hell not?”

  Ella crossed her arms then turned away. “I need to visit my uncle. At his shop. He gets lonely since Jenny has gone.”

  “He can have Lady Westerling visit him.”

  “I have my paper there.”

  Oh yes, her newspaper. Where she blasted all methods of progress and spread half-truths to those who wouldn’t look for information elsewhere. She’d rather risk her life than give up her cause.

  “Ella, you live at Hilltop Hall. Stay away from Lundun.”

  Her bright green eyes sharpened on him. “I no longer live at Hilltop. Or anywhere else in the Greenlands. I live in the rooms above my uncle’s shop
.”

  He stared at her. “You live at Hilltop. I’ve seen you there. You represent your district.”

  “Yes. Neither of my parents have an interest in the Syndicate, but I do.”

  “But you can’t live in Lundun if you are a member.”

  She sighed. “I know. And up until recently, no one knew otherwise.”

  Cool air blasted above them with a loud hiss. The temperature in the room dropped even further.

  “Why did you decide to live with your uncle, Ella?”

  “He needed me.” She sniffled. “Oh, I suppose I needed him. We needed each other. Once Jenny had gone and left this gaping void, I felt compelled to step in somehow.”

  “I never felt at home at Hilltop. My parents didn’t want me and I loathed the life there. Lundun opened my eyes to a whole different world, one filled with wonder and friendly faces.”

  “And now I know that I belong there. The commoners need me to be their voice. No one else knows them as intimately as I do.”

  Lord, he didn’t understand this woman. Nothing she did made sense. She gave up her birthright based on emotion. But what of her duty as a Greenland noble?

  “Are you going to have me dismissed from the Syndicate?”

  Bennett clenched his jaw. He could do it. He could reveal her little secret and have her gone from his life for good. She wouldn’t be allowed back, her family would be disgraced, and she’d be forced to live the rest of her days in Lundun.

  In the path of a killer.

  He didn’t want her in Lundun and not just because of the danger. Hilltop House was much closer to Barrington Manor than deep in the heart of the city.

  Ella’s eyes widened, her mouth dropped open. “You are considering it, aren’t you?”

  He faced the choice of duping his fellow nobles and keeping Ella safe or exposing her and having her out of his life. Probably forever.

  “I can’t believe you would do this to me.” Once again, her eyes were shining. “After what we’ve experienced together.”

  He cleared his throat. “Duty is important to me. And honor.” The excuse for his hesitation was lame. He knew that. But he was torn between responsibility and desire.

  “So Lord Barrington has no secrets?”

  “I didn’t say that.” In fact, his were far worse than hers.

  “Ah, so don’t make me discover them and then blackmail you with them. Because I would if I had to.”

  “You wouldn’t do that,” he scoffed. And yet a sliver of concern niggled at the edges of his mind.

  “Try me, Bennett.”

  He sighed. That was exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to try her on his bed, in his private room on the dirigible, on the bench in his workshop. He wanted more than a taste of her lips and her breasts.

  He was too damned selfish to lose her.

  “I won’t have you dismissed. Your secret is safe with me.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Truly?”

  “Yes, although I am still concerned for you living in Lundun.”

  The door opened and Dr. Elmsworth entered. He nodded at the both of them and went straight to the table where the slain girl lay.

  “Such a shame,” the old man murmured. Then, “Are you ready for me to begin my examination?”

  Bennett glanced down at Ella. She bit her lip, then shook her head.

  “I can’t stay for that. I’ll await Lady Westerling’s return in the parlor upstairs.”

  Bennett looked back at the girl on the table, then to Ella again. Like her, he didn’t want to see this. Not again. He’d much rather take Ella back to Hilltop House in his carriage. There, they would be alone again.

  That would be a mistake. Because when the two of them were alone they either fought, aroused passions, or laid each other bare with emotion. He had the energy for none at the moment.

  “You don’t need to wait. I can have a carriage return you now.”

  Ella blinked up at him. She wanted him to join her.

  She would not get her wish.

  “If there is anything of note in the doctor’s exam, I will be sure to let you know.”

  She nodded, but said nothing.

  Bennett called for Craft through the speak-pipes, gave instructions on returning Ella to Hilltop, then turned back to walk her through the house.

  Ella was gone.

  Darkness stretched before him. But he did not fear it. He couldn’t see as well as he once could, but the darkness had become his friend. Daylight brought stares and ugliness.

  Besides, he knew this land, these woods. He once lived here, once hunted this forest, once played in these creeks. A long time ago, he once loved this place.

  A single time each week he made this journey from Lundun to the Greenlands. He skirted main roads, the tracks, the trails of horses.

  It was not the police he avoided.

  It was the man who sought him, the one who chased him like a vicious hound after an innocent fox. It amazed him that he’d managed to avoid capture. There were times it had been close, but he’d always been one step ahead. Just quick enough to slink back into the empty alleys.

  Against the waning moon, the pointed spires of the manor took shape. He hurried forward and found the flying machine gone from its usual location. Good, he’d not need to turn back. At the rear door of the house, he pressed a hidden button and waited.

  Moments later the door opened.

  “You are well?” Craft said.

  He nodded and handed him a large cloth sack.

  “Yes, but I won’t stay long tonight.” His voice had become raspy due to infrequent use.

  “Of course.” The butler reached behind him and began piling supplies into the sack. Food, clothing, necessities. Then, “When will you return for good, my lord?”

  “I don’t see how I can.”

  “Things have changed certainly.”

  “I can’t come back, not anymore. Every time I tell you the same thing.”

  Craft handed the sack back to him. “I’m sure Lord Barrington—”

  “Don’t you realize?” Hugh waved his mechanical arm. “My brother wants me dead.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  This alley was like the others.

  Ellie stood with Miles at the location in which the latest victim had been felled. Blood stained the stones along the wall and ground.

  In the blood was a partial shoe print. A clue, yes. But it meant nothing unless she brought each man to this site to compare his feet.

  Miles glanced at the dark mark and then narrowed his eyes. “Constable says he’ll set up an investigation. Not sure I believe him.”

  Ellie swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t either.”

  She glanced behind her to the solid wall. Only one way into this small alcove and one way out. The perfect place for someone to hide.

  Rain misted around them, but not enough to wash away the remains of a life. Not enough to make the world clean.

  “Look.”

  Ellie turned at the sound of Miles’s voice. He held his hand out. A bent spring sat in the center of his palm.

  “Did you find that here?”

  He nodded. “In the corner, by the leaves and dirt.”

  She took it from his hand and brought it close for inspection. Rusted and distorted, the spring’s significance escaped her.

  “It could have been here for months. Perhaps years.”

  Miles lifted a shoulder. “Suppose so. Or it could have come from the killer.”

  “A spring?” Didn’t seem likely, unless he had a weapon of some sort.

  “Maybe he was holding something mechanical. Or…something clockwork. Like a gun.”

  Clockwork. There were no automatons in Lundun. At least, not yet. Not until Bennett spread them across the Greenlands line.

  “Then again,” Miles sighed. “It could have just fallen from a toy during the warmer months.”

  She nodded. “Probably.” And, yet, it would be foolish to overlook anything. “Do you need t
o turn that in as evidence?”

  He shrugged. “Suppose I should.”

  Wind slid up the stone wall and sighed on her neck. Chills sprouted. She hated coming to these sites, seeing the devastation and the last moments of a girl’s life.

  Ellie glanced at the blood again. It was the blood from the girl she saw at Barrington Manor. A life now gone. Her stomach coiled, squeezed bile into her throat.

  She had yet to see Jenny’s spot. It might just be impossible to bear.

  “Let’s go back to the shop,” she whispered.

  Miles slipped the spring into his pocket then led the way out of the alley.

  Back at the shop, Lady Westerling was keeping Uncle Joseph company while he worked on a repair. She reached out a hand to Miles as they entered. “Anything interesting out in the city today?”

  Lady Westerling didn’t know of the recent death. Ellie had gone back in one of Bennett’s carriages alone and did not see the older woman at Hilltop House.

  Ellie pressed her lips together. She couldn’t say anything in front of her uncle and yet there was no easy way to disengage the two of them.

  “There was…we saw another site today.”

  The old woman cocked her head, those enormous eyes blinking behind the thick spectacles. “Oh?”

  “Yes, sites like you and I saw the other day when we drove about in your Wheelcraft. There is a new one.”

  Color drained from Lady Westerling’s face as realization dawned. She shook her head.

  Ellie nodded hers.

  When Uncle Joseph’s head was down to focus on connecting new gears, Miles mouthed, “She is dead.”

  The old woman closed her eyes. Then she patted his arm, “Joseph, my dear, I need to step outside for a moment. Do excuse me.”

  “Of course.”

  Miles stayed with him while Ellie led Lady Westerling out into the cool mist of the afternoon. The streets were quiet. Children and mothers had all gone inside. Men, with coats pulled tightly about them, headed home from the tracks or the factories or their shops.

  Knobby fingers clamped on her arm. “Another girl? When? Where?”

  Ellie crossed her arms but could not keep the chill at bay. “District Four again. It must have happened the night we had dinner at Hilltop.”

  “How did you learn of it?”