Scotland Hard (Book 2 in the Tom & Laura Series)

by John Booth

  “I would hope not far, but the people we chase have proved surprisingly resourceful. It is entirely possible we could be in for a very long journey indeed.”

  “I thought you said they was only kids?” Mick asked.

  “They are apparently well trained children and one of them is a Precog whose parents were legendary in my profession. I had assumed that she missed out on inheriting their skills, but I am beginning to wonder if she has been deliberately misleading us.”

  “That aint goin’ to cause us trouble, is it, Guv’nor?” Mick asked. He sounded worried. Like most ordinary folk he had an irrational fear of the magically gifted.

  “Even the best Precog can be easily killed with a knife or a gun,” Saunders reassured him. “They merely suffer from the misfortune of knowing it is about to happen to them.”

  They had left their coach and horses at a livery stable across from the station the previous night. Saunders paid for them to be looked after for a month; though he arranged a refund should he return earlier.

  The men walked to the railway station and went to find the ticket collector.

  “Were you on duty yesterday morning?” Saunders asked the small wizened man he found waiting in the ticket collector’s booth.

  “Are you buying a ticket or information,” the man replied, showing off his brown teeth in a sly smile.

  “Both. I am on Her Majesty’s business and I will make it worth your while if you tell me what I want to know.”

  “So tell me what you want to hear. I’m sure I can repeat it back to you,” the little man replied. It took Saunders a moment to realize he had just been insulted.

  Saunders took out a gold sovereign and put it in front of the hatch. The ticket collector looked at it avariciously, but made no attempt to reach for it.

  “A gentleman working for her Majesty should be able to do better than that,” he remarked. A gleam had appeared in his eye.

  Saunders put another sovereign down beside the first.

  “If that isn’t enough, I can telegraph your employers to have you fired,” Saunders said softly and smiled, showing his immaculate white teeth to the man.

  “What do you want to know?” the ticket collector asked as he took the money and slipped it into his waistcoat pocket. If he was daunted by the threat he gave no sign of it.

  “I am looking for a party of three young people, two women, and one man. Did you sell them a railway ticket yesterday?”

  “No,” the ticket collector said categorically. Saunders turned away in disappointment. As he began to walk away from the station, the ticket collector shouted at him.

  “I sold tickets to five young people, three like you said, but they had two young lads with them. They bought tickets for the Express to Scotland.”

  Saunders walked back to the booth and leaned towards the ticket collector with a smile on his face so frightening in its malevolence that the man backed away as far as the booth would allow.

  “If you want to leave this station alive, you will describe that group to me in perfect detail. I want to know what they looked like, everything they did and everything they said while they were here. If I think that you have omitted a single word or item of interest, I shall set my two companions on you.”

  The ticket collector looked out to see Mick and Joe grinning at him. Joe picked at his fingernails with a vicious looking broad-bladed knife. The ticket collector gulped and told Saunders everything that he knew.

  It was ten past ten when a weary Cam and Arnold returned to their room. They were not happy.

  “No one would tell us anything,” Cam complained. “I’m sure they knew all about that train, but all we got was ‘away with yer’ and ‘mind yer own business’ wherever we asked.”

  “I never realized how much the Scottish hate the English before today,” Arnold said ruefully. “They act like we are their oppressors, rather than us both being part of the same Union.”

  “We are defeated,” Cam admitted. “We might as well give up and go back to Hobsgate right now.”

  “We should certainly book out of the hotel,” Daisy said cheerfully. She was not in the slightest bit dismayed by their news.

  “To go where?” Arnold asked irritably.

  “Things have a way of working out,” Daisy replied. She smiled at them innocently.

  “Have you seen something?” Cam asked suspiciously.

  “We get close to Tom and Laura in all our possible futures,” Daisy said cautiously. “You have to have faith that something will happen to make those realities come true.”

  It was a different employee on reception when they booked out. A woman in her fifties who smiled at them as they approached the desk

  “Is it always this quiet here?” Cam asked the receptionist. There was no one else in the lobby.

  “Half an hour ago we had the Laird book out with his whole party. There must have been at least twenty of them. They’ll be off to the Highlands and rather them than me,” the receptionist told them. “It’s mighty cold this time of year on the McBride Estate.”

  “That’s what Alice said,” Tricky said excitedly, “The McBride Estate.”

  “Is your wee boy alright?” the receptionist asked in astonishment as Tricky jumped up and down in excitement.

  Cam smiled at the women, her eyes shining with delight. “It was just something we were told to seek out when we got here by the boy’s aunt. That’s where she lives now, on the McBride Estate.”

  “Well, there’s a lot that do. He employs a great many people, especially in that huge factory he has up there,” the receptionist explained.

  “What would be the best way to get there?” Arnold asked.

  “Why you’ll have to go by train at this time of year. The roads will be largely impassable in all this snow. The journey involves a number of changes, I’m afraid. I’ll write you down a list.”

  24. Into the Highlands

  Tom, Laura, and Alice were bundled back into Lord McBride’s carriages as soon as they had completed their breakfast. The hotel lobby had been in turmoil as the whole of Lord McBride’s staff were coming with them and it appeared he had many of his staff at the hotel.

  They returned to the same compartment they had been in before. Bruce accompanied them. At first, he refused to tell them anything about their journey.

  “At least tell us where Lord McBride’s estate is?” Laura pleaded with the taciturn Scotsman. “What harm can it possibly do?”

  “Who’s to say, lassie?” Bruce muttered in response to her question. “But I don’t suppose it can do much, given how remote it is. De ye ken Scotland at all, lass?”

  “I know what it looks like on a map,” Laura admitted. “And I know that Edinburgh is in the east and Glasgow in the west.”

  “Aye, if ye think of Britannia and her shield, then Glasgow and Edinburgh are at the front and back of her neck. We’ll be travelling west along the length of the Firth of Forth to Stirling and then we shall go north towards Inverness. The Laird’s estates are between Aviemore and Moy, maybe twenty miles from Inverness in the mountains beyond Loch Garten.”

  “I suppose that it will take a few hours to get there,” Tom commented wearily.

  “Aye, we shall get there late tonight if we are lucky, tomorrow morning if we’re not.”

  “But surely it isn’t that far,” Laura protested. “We came all the way up from the South of England in less time than that.”

  “Aye, but ye weren’t travelling up hills like we have in Scotland, lassie. And there’ll likely be snow on the line. Just sit back and dinna worry yer heed about it.”

  They had been travelling for some time when Tom looked out of the window to see a vast stretch of water with mountains beyond it. He assumed the water must be the Firth of Forth.

  “This journey would be a lot shorter if there was a bridge,” he said irritably.

  Bruce laughed. “Aye, that’d be something to see. A bridge over the Firth of Forth, that would be a wonder of the world a
nd no mistake.”

  The journey went on interminably. There were no stops on this special train and they went through all the stations at speed.

  Food and drink were provided at luncheon and in the evening. The food was not as plentiful as it had been on the way up from London. Tom presumed that this was because the chef would be cooking for large numbers with so many onboard.

  Bruce said nothing to them after his conversation with Laura. He and Jimmy took turns at guarding them, changing over every four hours or so. Neither of their guards was in the slightest bit talkative.

  Lord McBride never come back to ask Laura questions about the paper he had given her, which annoyed her after all the work she put into memorizing it. Apart from their guards and the maids who brought their food, they saw no one throughout their journey.

  Day turned eventually to night, they had been travelling in the dark for many hours when Bruce looked at his fob watch and sighed.

  “We should be getting close now. The Laird has his own branch line and station, and I expect we have already left the main line. The estate is miles from anywhere and ye would get lost in seconds were ye to try to run away. So let’s have no foolish thoughts of escape.” Having spoken his piece, Bruce continued to stare at them as if challenging them to dare to ask any questions.

  “Are there many people employed on the estate?” Laura asked. It looked for a long while as though Bruce was going to ignore her. Then, when she had given up hope, he spoke.

  “When I was a bairn, there was only a wee village by the loch and the Laird’s castle on the hill. Now there’s a factory at the bottom of the hill, along with houses and shops for its workers. The Laird builds his locomotives here, which is why we have our own railway station. There might be three hundred people or more on the estate where once there were only thirty. It’s quite a sight is the station, you’ll see.”

  A short while later train pulled into the station and they saw what Bruce was talking about. The three stared out of the window in amazement. The station was enclosed in a massive semi circular arch of cast iron and glass.

  “I do not think I have ever seen so much glass in one place,” Laura said in awe.

  “They must ‘ave blooming big wicks in them lights,” Alice opined. Massive lights, larger brighter than any the three had seen, lit the station from its roof.

  “They must be electric,” Tom said.

  Alice looked at the dim electric bulbs in their compartment and then at the lights outside that lit the station as bright as day and shook her head. The Station made Paddington look feeble by comparison. The ironwork was painted dark green and looked brand new. The glass panels between the iron struts were at least seven foot long in each direction, possibly more.

  “No one can make glass panels that big or that flat,” Tom said.

  “The Laird had Spellbinders make the glass,” Bruce said bleakly as he looked out of the carriage window. “Ye mark my words, no good ever comes of witchcraft, and that’s a fact.”

  There were two platforms in the station, though they were unusually wide and marble tiled. The rail by the other platform was a dead end while their track went on beyond the station and disappeared into a large red brick building.

  The station was amazingly warm. Despite the fact that they could see the snow was a foot deep beyond the confines of its glass and iron walls, they felt as if they were in a house with a roaring fire.

  Lord McBride approached them shortly after they disembarked.

  “And how do you like my station?” he asked Laura animatedly. “This is a wonder of the world and the shape of civilization’s future.”

  “Why is it so warm?” Tom asked.

  Lord McBride turned to him and seemed to be genuinely enthused.

  “We’ve no shortage of heat here, laddie. Quite the opposite, in fact, with the first reactatron generating more heat than we know what to do with. When I had the station built, I put radiators running under the platforms like the underfloor heating the Roman’s used. Even after that, we have to use the loch to get rid of the remaining waste heat.”

  “You warm the water in the loch?” Laura asked, “Whatever for?”

  McBride seemed to enjoy talking about his creations. He focused on Laura and his face became serious.

  “The reactatron must never be allowed to overheat. Even in winter, the loch water is warm enough for people to bathe in it without risk of catching a chill. I have stocked it with tropical fish as they cope well in the heat.”

  “But can’t you just pull the copper rods apart, like on the train?” Laura asked.

  “Aye, and what would we learn from that?” Lord McBride said dismissively. Laura had no answer and he turned away.

  “Follow me, and be sure to stay close,” Bruce ordered them.

  The three were led out of the station into a fifteen-foot wide glass and iron tunnel that was a miniature version of the station’s roof. The tunnel went up the hill to a formidable looking castle and ended at its massive oak doors. There was a smaller door cut into the left of the doors and this smaller door was open.

  “I’s always wanted to live in a castle,” Alice said cheerfully as they stepped through the door into a cobbled courtyard. Even here, the Laird had decided to install a glass roof. Walking through the keep, Bruce then led them up a spiral stone staircase into the castle apartments. They went down a stone corridor with ancient suits of amour mounted on the wall, interspersed with large dark tapestries of hunting scenes. No part of the wall was left unadorned as stags heads filled up any available space.

  “I take it there is nothing else to do up here, but hunt deer,” Laura remarked sarcastically, Bruce chose to ignore her, leading them to a large bedroom.

  “Ye two will be staying here for the time being. There’s a privy through yon door,” he said pointing. “And there is no way oot. The wee lassie will be coming away with me.”

  “I want to stay with Tom and Laura,” Alice protested and went to hold tight to Laura arm.

  “If ye dinna want to feel a tawse across yer backside, ye’ll come with me,” Bruce said menacingly.

  “You’d better go, Alice,” Laura said as she disengaged the child’s arms from around her waist. “I am sure they will let us see each other…, if they expect me to do any work, that is.”

  Alice reluctantly left Laura’s side and went to Bruce.

  “Remember to keep in touch, Alice,” Tom said. He touched his head with his index finger to ensure Alice knew exactly what he meant. She nodded, though she looked worried at being forced to leave.

  Bruce closed the doors behind him and they heard the sound of large bolts being thrust home.

  “I hope you have formulated an escape plan, Thomas,” Laura said thoughtfully. “Because I don’t think it will be safe for us to stay here very long.”

  James Saunders fumed inwardly all the way to Edinburgh. Whenever Mick or Joe spoke, he snapped at them. They soon decided to remain silent. Saunders was furious that the young spies had followed Tom and Laura up to Scotland. He was even more annoyed that they had managed to form a relationship with the Hart and Sweeting boys. For all he knew, the telepath, Alice Short, had already told them everything about Lord McBride and that was worrying in itself.

  Saunders reviewed the situation silently. He had exposed Smee in his fake letter and it was likely Trelawney would arrest the man as soon as he knew that Saunders had moved on.

  Losing Bertram Smee to MM3 would be no great loss. The Brotherhood would arrange his death shortly after his arrest and the risk to them would end there. But if MM3 obtained enough evidence to arrest McBride, the whole organization might be exposed.

  McBride would not prove so easy to assassinate as Smee and would be much better guarded. Worse, he knew far too much about the Brotherhood. If he chose to talk to save his neck, it would be a disaster.

  It had become imperative that these child spies and the two boys were eliminated before they had a chance to talk to anyone in MM3.
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br />   When Cam requested three adult and two child tickets to Lord McBride’s estate the ticket collector scratched his head.

  “I can sell ye yer tickets all right, but ye canner get there in one day, even if ye’d set out at first light. There are too many changes and the schedules will be all over the place in this weather.”

  “What would you recommend?” Arnold asked. The ticket collector looked at him, relieved to be talking to a man and not to a slip of a girl.

  “The best thing for ye to do is to travel to Perth today and then buy another set of tickets from there on the morrow. There’s a fine railway hotel ye can stay at beside the station and its prices are very reasonable.”

  “Then that is what we shall do,” Arnold said decisively. He turned to Cam and spoke to her as if she was a servant. “Pay the man for the tickets to Perth, Camilla, there’s a good girl.”

  Cam gave Arnold a look that could have melted lead, but she said nothing and did as she was instructed. She made a mental note to take revenge on Arnold later.

  “Ye’ll be wanting the train on platform 4 to Stirling. Change there for the Perth express, there’s usually a two hour wait at Stirling, but with this weather affecting the trains ye might get lucky.” The man handed the tickets and change to Arnold over Cam’s head.

  “Thank you, my good man,” Arnold replied cheerfully.

  ‘He is going to die for this,’ Cam thought vengefully as she glared at Arnold’s retreating back.

  25. North

  Saunders stomped his feet in the lobby of the Waverly Hotel in Edinburgh in an attempt to get the snow off his boots and his circulation going. It had proved bitterly cold on the train in the final hour of the journey. Mick and Joe followed sullenly behind him.

  The two men had acted like fish out of water ever since they crossed the border. Everybody they saw spoke in Scottish accents and that simple fact unnerved them. They felt that people were staring at them, and that if they needed to run they would be far too easy to find. Killers sought anonymity the way rabbits sought their holes and the nearest hole looked a long way away to Mick and Joe.