The Toymaker's Curse (Glass and Steele Book 11)

by C. J. Archer

  Even so, if there was any chance at all that he was guilty of shooting Matt, I had to let him know that I suspected him. It probably wouldn’t make him stop—but on the other hand, it might, and it was worth it if it worked.

  “Someone shot at my husband,” I said. “Twice.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

  “You don’t seem sorry. Nor do you seem surprised.”

  “Are you accusing me of shooting him?” He huffed around the pipe, either in derision or genuine amusement, I couldn’t tell. “Mrs. Glass, for the same reason I just explained that I didn’t kill Trentham, I wouldn’t go to the trouble of killing your husband. I have no particular interest in making you a widow so you can remarry. The continuation of your line doesn’t matter to me. Besides, not even I can force someone down the aisle, and I doubt you would choose your second husband because he’s a magician. I suspect you’re one of those people for whom affection in marriage is important. Now, is that all? I have work to do.” He picked up his pen and dipped it in the inkwell.

  I rose and pressed my palms to the desk. I felt a little out of control, like the automaton operated by a magician from afar. Confronting such a powerful man was not in my nature—but in this moment, I was not quite myself. I might not know precisely what words would come out of my mouth, but I did know I couldn’t stop them.

  “Let me make one thing clear, my lord. If Matt dies of unnatural causes, I will assume you are responsible, and I will do everything in my power to turn magicians against you. The influence you now enjoy because of your magical acquaintances and knowledge will vanish. I’ll see to it.”

  Something flickered in his eyes. It was the only sign that I’d got through to him and perhaps even worried him. I straightened as a sense of satisfaction coursed through me, as vivid as any magic.

  He bent over the papers to write. “Good day, Mrs. Glass. See yourself out.”

  I marched out of his office only to pause when I saw Hope. Had she been listening? I closed the office door and headed for the stairs. She followed a few steps behind and caught up to me on the next landing.

  “Is Matt all right?” she asked.

  So she had been listening. “Yes.” I went to walk off but she grabbed my arm.

  “What happened?”

  I glanced up the stairs. “Ask your husband.” I wrenched free.

  Her hand curled into a claw, clutching at the air. She stared at me with those lovely, big eyes of hers. I turned away, hating that I felt sorry for her for marrying Coyle. Although we’d warned her, and she knew he wasn’t a good man, I suspected she’d come to realize the power she coveted in a husband wasn’t worth the price.

  Chapter 12

  “Well it’s about time you came home.” Willie’s greeting upon my return was said with one hand on her out-thrust hip.

  I handed Bristow my coat and hat. “Why? What’s happened?”

  “Matt’s been watching for you through the window for an age and complaining that you weren’t back.”

  Matt must have heard my voice because he emerged from the library, tie askew and hair messy as if he’d been running his hands through it. He came to me, planted his hands on my shoulders and a kiss on my lips. It lasted until Willie cleared her throat.

  Matt took my hand and drew me into the library. “Thank goodness you’re back.”

  “Why?”

  “Willie and Aunt Letitia are maddening.”

  Willie followed us inside and shut the door. “You’re the maddening one. You’ve been pacing back and forth, up and down, all day. You can’t settle.”

  “It’s difficult to concentrate on other things when there’s an investigation happening without me.”

  She turned to me. “He tried working, playing cards, and even helped Letty with some embroidery. That was a mistake. He ain’t got no patience for it. Finally I banished him in here to give us some peace. I never thought I’d say this, but Matt, you’re irritating when you’re bored.”

  “I’m irritating? You don’t close your mouth when you chew.”

  Willie ignored him. “I forgot to mention he’s in a bad mood. Now that you’re back, he’s your responsibility.”

  Matt raked his hand through his hair. When it fell away, he gave me an impish look that made me want to draw him into a hug. “I just need to get out. I’ve felt more alive since I used my watch after the shooting, and I’ve got more energy than ever. Yet I’m holed up in here, unable to expend it.” He shook out his hands, as if trying to shake off the excess energy. “Willie’s right. I need to get out, even if just for a walk.”

  “I’m not sure that’s wise,” I said gently. “Someone still wants to kill you.” I almost told him about my visit to Lord Coyle, but decided against it. He wouldn’t like that I’d called on him alone.

  “I’ve thought about that. I can go out disguised as one of the footman.”

  Willie burst out laughing.

  “Or I can go for a drive, dressed as Woodall. With a hat, coat and scarf, only my eyes will be visible. From a distance, no one will know it’s me.”

  It was actually a good idea. Although I preferred he remain inside, I had to concede it wouldn’t work for long periods of time. “You will always have someone who knows about your watch with you, Matt. Is that clear?”

  “Yes ma’am.” He grasped my hips and drew me closer for another kiss.

  Willie clicked her tongue. “If you go out in disguise, make sure it ain’t in a dress. Nothing good comes from wearing dresses as a disguise. Trust me, I know. So does Farnsworth.” She went to walk off, but I called after her.

  “Don’t you want to hear how today went? There were a number of developments.”

  “Is that why you were gone for so long?” Matt asked.

  I glanced at the clock on the mantel. “It’s only two.”

  I tugged on the bell pull to summon Bristow and asked him to bring sandwiches. Ten minutes later, he returned with a platter of cucumber and ham sandwiches cut into triangles. Duke followed him.

  “I was just about to tell them what happened today,” I told him after Bristow departed.

  He pulled out a chair from the central table. “Then you all better sit down. We’ve got a mighty interesting tale to tell.”

  We told them how we progressed from assuming Mrs. Trentham was Mirnov’s unwitting accomplice in the murder of her husband, to the murderess responsible for three deaths. I also explained why we suspected Coyle was involved, but given Mrs. Trentham’s reluctance to implicate him, it would be impossible to convict him.

  “Brockwell confirmed it just before we parted at the Yard,” Duke added. “The authorities won’t touch Coyle unless there’s no doubt of his guilt.”

  “Then what do we need?” Willie asked. “We’ll find the evidence.”

  “A good start would be Mrs. Trentham’s statement accusing him of orchestrating the murders. Brockwell said he’ll continue to pressure her.”

  I wasn’t hopeful of success on that score. The threat from Coyle would be greater than any threat from the inspector.

  Willie blew out a breath and reached for a sandwich.

  Duke slapped her hand away. “You already ate lunch. These are for India and me.”

  “But I’m still hungry,” she whined.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “Have mine.”

  She poked her tongue out at Duke and picked up a sandwich. “Will Jasper tell Mirnov or the Shaws that Albina was murdered by Mrs. Trentham?”

  Duke shrugged as he chewed.

  Matt had been very quiet up until now. He’d not asked a single question throughout the retelling and he seemed to be lost in thought.

  I touched his arm. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course,” he said, sounding distracted.

  I watched him from beneath lowered lashes. He was not all right. Something about the case bothered him. I was about to ask when Willie spoke with her mouth full of sandwich.

  “All this for children.”


  “Not just ordinary children,” Duke pointed out. “Magic ones.”

  “Seems to me like there’s lots of people thinking about magician children lately. Mrs. Trentham, Louisa, Coyle.”

  “I’m not sure about Coyle,” I said. “He wants power, but why would he care about the future of magic? He won’t be around to take advantage of the next generation of magicians.”

  Willie dusted crumbs off her chest, then slumped in her chair, legs outstretched. She looked like she was settling in for a lazy afternoon in front of the fire. “Well, that was an easy investigation.”

  “For you,” Duke said. “India, Brockwell and I did all the work today.”

  “I’m glad we don’t have to go back to the gypsy camp. I don’t trust them Romany.”

  Duke pushed his chair back from the table and assumed a similar pose to Willie. “I wanted to find out if the curse Albina put on Trentham was real or not. Guess we’ll never know for sure now.”

  “The professor said they were real and that’s good enough for me.”

  I studied Matt as they talked. He didn’t seem to be listening. When he rose and excused himself, I followed him out of the library.

  “Matt?” I caught up to him at the base of the stairs. “Matt, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’ve gone quiet all of a sudden.”

  “I’m just thinking.” He gave me a smile. It didn’t convince me that all was well.

  “What about?”

  “About you and me.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “All this talk about Trentham’s infertility… Has it brought up thoughts about us not having conceived yet?”

  “No! No.” He skimmed his knuckles down my cheek to my chin. He grasped it gently. “India, I don’t care if we don’t conceive. I’m more than happy to adopt. You know that.”

  I couldn’t help feeling relieved all over again. We’d already discussed it and decided on adoption if we couldn’t have our own children, but his silence in the library had brought the old doubts to the surface.

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  He smiled, a genuinely sweet smile. “Nothing, my love. Nothing.” He kissed me on the lips and would have continued if Aunt Letitia hadn’t interrupted.

  I spent the remainder of the afternoon in her company. The others didn’t join us until five o’clock when Duke entered the drawing room, whistling.

  “Where are Matt and Willie?” I asked.

  He stopped whistling and gazed longingly at the door as if he wished he’d never entered.

  “Duke?” I pressed.

  “They’ve gone out.” He gave a pointed glance at Aunt Letitia who’d just set aside her embroidery due to the poor light.

  If we must have this conversation while keeping the truth from her, then so be it. But we were having it. “Where?” I asked oh-so-sweetly.

  “Driving.”

  Aunt Letitia clicked her tongue. “Honestly. We have Woodall for that. Matt shouldn’t be seen on the coachman’s seat. It’s unseemly. What if an acquaintance recognizes him?”

  What if that acquaintance wanted to kill him? I clutched my book tighter to steady my jangling nerves.

  “No one will recognize him,” Duke went on. “Anyway, don’t blame the messenger. It ain’t my fault he feels like a caged animal at home all day. Nor Willie’s. She tried to stop him, but when he said he’d go alone, she gave in and went with him.”

  That was something, at least. She knew where he hid his magic watch. Of course if a bullet killed him instantly…

  I swallowed and tried to put the thought from my mind.

  Cyclops suddenly burst into the drawing room brandishing a newspaper. He was a little out of breath as he handed it to Duke. “Read that article.” He stabbed the front page. “It’s about Trentham’s workshop.”

  “You mean the murder?” I asked, rising.

  He shook his head. “The automaton.”

  Duke swore under his breath only to apologize when he remembered Aunt Letitia. “The headline says all we need to know. OUT OF CONTROL AUTOMATON RUNS AMOK IN SHOP OF MURDERED MAKER. IS MAGIC TO BLAME?”

  I groaned as I read the opening paragraph. “How did the newspaper learn about the automaton, let alone that it was magical?”

  “That is a ridiculously sensationalist headline,” Aunt Letitia piped up. “I don’t trust those kinds of newspapers. I only believe it if it’s printed in The Times.”

  “It doesn’t say it’s magical,” Cyclops said. “It only suggests.”

  “That’s enough to have everyone believing it is,” I said. The article mentioned how the automaton had been found in a lane the morning after Trentham was murdered in his toyshop. It also told how it was rumored to have run amok in the shop yesterday.

  “I reckon it was the constables that informed the journalist,” Duke said with a shake of his head. “Brockwell needs to have a word with them.”

  “It might not have been them,” I said. “Several people walked past the window, and some might have peered in. If they saw the mess and the suit of armor in handcuffs, they would put two and two together.”

  “But what about magic?” Duke pointed to a paragraph on the newspaper. “How did the journalist find out Trentham was a magician and the automaton had magic in it?”

  “A good guess?” Cyclops suggested. “Mirnov? Maybe he’s the journalist’s source.”

  “It’s more likely to be an artless toymaker who wants to stir up trouble,” I said. “Perhaps someone knew, or suspected, that Trentham was a magician and decided this was a good opportunity to discredit him and other magicians too. The journalist has certainly made it look as though magic is to blame for the automaton’s behavior.”

  The article didn’t claim the automaton was responsible for murdering Trentham, but it was implied. The journalist must have written it before knowing about Mrs. Trentham’s arrest as it wasn’t mentioned.

  “This will cause a sensation,” I said. “It does not bode well at all.”

  “Oh dear,” Aunt Letitia murmured from the sofa. “Oh dear, oh dear.”

  I sat beside her. “What is it, Aunt?”

  “Oh, Veronica, it’s you. Thank goodness you’ve come. My brother Harry seems to have forgotten all about me. He was supposed to meet me here before we go for a walk. Have you seen him?”

  I gently took her hands and guided her to stand. “Let’s look for him together.”

  She allowed me to lead her out of the drawing room and up the stairs. At least when her mind wandered, she was amenable to suggestions that she rest. When I saw her settled in her room, I returned to the drawing room.

  Matt and Willie had returned. Matt looked up from the newspaper while Willie read on.

  “Is she all right?” he asked.

  “I think so. She thought I was her former maid again. She must have been listening to us discuss the automaton and murder and it upset her. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Usually talk of our investigations doesn’t bring on one of her episodes. Perhaps it was the idea of the automaton being out of control.” He returned to the paper and finished reading. “Bloody hell,” he muttered when he reached the end. “This is a disaster.”

  I sat beside him with a sigh. “What can we do?”

  “Write another article discrediting it,” Duke suggested.

  “It’s too late,” Willie said. “The bull’s out of the lasso, and it ain’t going to get caught again, no matter how hard we try.”

  She was right. There was nothing we could do except hope the public’s reaction wouldn’t be as unfavorable as we assumed. Perhaps no one would believe the newspaper’s claims.

  Matt wasn’t giving up so easily, however. He spent the evening penning a response that included the detail that Mrs. Trentham was taken in for questioning by Scotland Yard over her husband’s murder. He made copies and sent it to all the major dailies first thing in the morning.

  Just after he sat down to breakfast with Willie, Duke a
nd me, we had a visit from Brockwell. The inspector looked more crumpled and disheveled than usual, and tired too.

  “You get any sleep last night?” Willie asked him.

  He helped himself to coffee at the sideboard without being invited. Not that we minded. He was almost part of the household. “I was woken at one this morning by a constable who informed me that Mrs. Trentham escaped from her cell.”

  “Escaped!” we all cried.

  “How?” I asked.

  He drained his cup and refilled it from the coffee pot. He placed it on the table and returned to the sideboard to make up a plate of sausages and toast. Matt drummed his fingers on the table as he watched the inspector with a tight-lipped frown.

  Willie cracked first, however. “Jasper! How did she escape?”

  Brockwell unfolded a napkin and tucked it into his collar. “She used her magic on the automaton. She called it to her, for want of a better way of putting it.”

  “Called it to her?” I echoed. “How far away from her cell was the automaton?”

  “Both the evidence room and holding cells are located in the basement, but at different ends of the building.”

  It was too far, surely. While I hadn’t tried making the carpet fly while standing in a different room, I doubted my moving spell would work from such a distance.

  Brockwell must have guessed the direction of my thoughts. “Several witnesses saw the automaton break open the lock on her cell door.”

  “But did they see it break out of the evidence room?”

  “You may be onto something there.”

  I waited for him to continue, but he took a bite of a sausage and chewed slowly. After he swallowed and took a sip of coffee, he dabbed at his mouth with the napkin then finally continued.

  “The constable on duty in the evidence room has disappeared.”

  “How can he just disappear?” Willie asked. “Have you gone to his home?”

  “He didn’t return there, nor did he clock off at the Yard. We searched everywhere. He has vanished.”

  “Are you treating him as a suspect or victim?” Matt asked.