by Sahara Kelly
Always discreet, no one knew of Lady Harbury’s infrequent trips to London, or the pleasure she sought there. She wasn’t greedy or stupid, merely a woman with simple needs, easily fulfilled.
The trust issue was the biggest hurdle, but she’d been very lucky in her choice of friends. The matter was under control. For now.
Unlike Randall, and his increasingly mad obsessions.
“Your pardon, my lady.”
She turned from the window. “Yes, Malcolm. What is it?”
“That inspector chap is here once more. Should I turn him off?”
“Good grief, no.” She laughed. “He’s doing his job, just as you are doing yours. I appreciate your sentiments, Malcolm. Sometimes I think you’d have made a better aristocrat than Lord Harbury.”
“I wouldn’t so presume, Madam.” His expression spoke volumes. “I am to show the person in here, then?”
“I am loth to upset your anachronistic sentiments, but yes. In here please. And have Millicent bring tea? In case the Inspector has not yet breakfasted. We must be courteous.”
“If you say so, Madam.”
“I do.”
He bowed and left, returning in moments with Inspector Burke in tow. “The Inspector has returned, my lady.” His words were polite. His tone spoke volumes more and reeked of disapproval.
“Thank you, Malcolm. That will be all.”
“Good morning, Lady Harbury. I trust I am not disturbing you?” The Inspector bowed low over her hand.
“Not at all, Inspector Burke. Please, sit. Tell me what brings you back this morning. Has the young lady been found yet?”
“Unfortunately, no.” He looked somber. “I’ve been making inquiries as far afield as Suffolk and Somerset.”
“Good gracious. That’s quite a distance.”
He nodded. “I understand she has visited both counties. But there’s been no sign of her. At this point…” He spread his hands in a gesture of defeat.
“The family?”
“Distraught. Lady Fielding is about to deliver a new baby, so you can imagine Sir Joshua’s state of mind.”
“Indeed. Most unfortunate.” She looked up as the door opened. “Ah, tea. Can I interest you in a cup, Inspector? You look as if you could use one.”
“You’re very kind.” He moved a small dish to make room for the tea tray carried in by the maid. “It would certainly be welcome.”
She was not unused to idle chatter, and easily steered the conversation down general paths while he enjoyed his tea.
“But I’m sure you’re not interested in our greenhouse produce, Inspector Burke. Tell me. Why are you here?”
“Other than enjoying your company?” He smiled.
“You’re very kind. But I’m no fool. Yes, other than that.”
He put down his cup and saucer, then leaned back in his chair and gazed at her contemplatively.
“You’re making me nervous, Mr. Burke.” She smiled.
“You have a laboratory here, Lady Alwynne.”
“We do.”
“May I see it?”
“May I ask why?”
“All part of my investigations.”
She touched one finger to her lips, thinking furiously. “And your investigations include our scientific facilities?”
He continued his bland gaze, revealing nothing. The man was very good at that, almost as good as she was, she realized. Not a person to be underestimated.
“I will be honest. I have nothing that points directly to anyone who is part of your facilities, nor the facility itself.”
“Thank you for your honesty.”
She prepared to politely deny him access, but before she could utter the words he raised his hand. “But…”
“But?” She blinked.
“But I do have some areas of concern. Mostly about various kinds of equipment that could have been used to transport Miss Fielding elsewhere. It’s one of the avenues I need to examine before concluding my work here.”
“Ah. I see,” said Alwynne.
“So, with your permission…”
She thought for a moment. “You understand that the laboratories are for scientific research, much of which is, by virtue of its nature, highly confidential, not to mention somewhat hazardous?”
“I understand.”
“There may be some research ongoing that you cannot be permitted to view.”
“I can assure you, Lady Alwynne, I have been granted full access to any facility during an investigation. Not just by Lord Southfield, but also by the Home Office and the Home Secretary himself. If you’d like to see a copy of my credentials…”
“No, no. That won’t be necessary.” She cursed luridly in her mind as she tried to come up with a solution that would keep him happy and protect her and Randall. Not to mention the people working beneath them.
“I doubt you’d be surprised to learn that we don’t customarily allow anyone to visit our laboratories without the express permission of ourselves and the research teams involved?”
“Not at all. I understand the nature of science and those who follow its path.”
“Then, with that in mind, I will tentatively say yes to your request, with the proviso that you grant me today to alert those deeply immersed in their experiments. There may be safety procedures they need to take. To avoid contamination, that sort of thing.” She smiled, her best charming look of warmth and encouragement. She’d spent hours practicing it in front of her mirror. “I’m sure you will agree that annoying anyone involved with an exciting and ongoing project is inadvisable?”
He inclined his head. “I do indeed.”
Mentally, Alwynne heaved a sigh of relief.
“Perhaps late this afternoon would work? I have an appointment in London tomorrow that I cannot postpone. It’s to do with this case, in fact. So if there would be a way for me to visit say around five? I will be as quick as possible. And of course I’d require a guide. Even I know that poking around laboratories unescorted is the height of foolishness.” He chuckled at his own humor.
She managed a slight laugh herself, but knew at this point it would be best to concur. With luck, she could get Randall tucked away and the researchers should all be prepared by then.
The biggest problem would be what to do with Henderson’s Galatea. She’d have to see him and explain the situation. Perhaps he’d have some ideas of where to secrete his creation.
God forbid the Inspector get a look at her. The nude beauty with the face of a dead girl.
Goosebumps rose on her skin and she hurriedly stood. “I will see what I can do. If you’d return at five, I hope I will have good news. I’m anxious to assist in any way, so let’s hope that science is also as obliging today.”
He rose and bowed. “You are very gracious. My apologies for inconveniencing you.”
“Not at all Inspector. I believe you know your way out? I expect Malcolm will be in the hall if you need directions...”
“Until later, Lady Alwynne.” He walked to the door, opened it and turned to look at her. “You are incomparably lovely, you know.” And he left.
Alwynne stood stunned for a second or two. Then laughed.
Damn the man. He’s far too smart for his own good.
Chapter 10
Portia’s gaze was glued to the face of the man behind the dirty little window. The man whose hand was pressed against hers, with only glass between them.
“Help me.”
Somehow she heard the words, a whisper, but they were there. “Are you Devon Harbury? Really?”
“Yes. Yes I am. For God’s sake, get me out of here.”
His eyes were desperate, and she felt the agony behind his imploring request.
“Wait. Let me think.” She dragged her gaze away, as her mind whirled. She had no key, nor could she see a lock, but there was a massive bolt. She reached for it…
“No, stop. Girl. Don’t touch that.”
She froze as the order touched her brain.
&nb
sp; “Alarms. Look up.”
Obediently she lifted her head and saw a large round disk. She’d seen smaller ones and immediately recognized it as a light, off now, but clearly that’s what Devon meant. Should she open his door, the light would illuminate and God knew what else would happen.
Dammit.
She looked at him again and raised her eyebrows. “So what can I do?”
“I don’t…I wish…” His eyes filled with helpless tears.
“Hell and devil confound it.” Portia’s heart nearly stopped as the lighting increased. “Someone’s coming.”
“Breakfast.”
The whisper was fading as he took his hand away.
“Don’t despair. I know now. I will think of something and I will come back. I promise. I work here. My name’s Portia.” She rushed the words.
“I know. Portia Fielding. I remember you. Come back…if you can. Don’t get caught…”
The lift rattled, and Portia knew she had no other choice. “I will come back, Devon. I will.”
She ran for the stairs and whisked herself around the corner just as the lift door opened and she heard two male voices.
Pulse pounding, she ran all the way up the stairs, only realizing as she got there, she’d dropped the book she was supposed to return to one of the scientists.
Oh well. Philosophically, she hoped that was the least of her worries. If he was absent minded enough to leave it at the breakfast table, he might think he’d dropped it there.
She could only hope, since there was something far more vital gnawing at her thoughts. How the devil she was supposed to free a prisoner from what appeared to be a rather formidable gaol?
As she straightened her clothing, pushed her breathing back down to something approaching normalcy, and emerged from the stairwell, one thought remained uppermost.
He knew who I was. He remembered me.
A tiny little flicker of warmth threaded around her heart, like nothing she’d ever felt before. And it made her smile.
*~~*~~*
Alwynne Harbury wasn’t smiling. She’d been trying to locate Randall for most of the morning and finally been told he was “somewhere” in the laboratories.
Which meant searching seven floors, since if anyone was good at evading any kind of surveillance, it was her husband. He had mastered the art of disappearing whenever he was up to something he knew she wouldn’t like.
With the reappearance of the Inspector looming later on in the afternoon, it was crucial Alwynne find him, stop whatever he was doing, cover the incriminating evidence and then present herself as if the only thing on her mind was who to invite for dinner and what to wear to stun them with her beauty.
If only people knew.
She’d worked her way down to the fifth floor with no luck, and no help. A lot of useless conversation, of course—one had to remain in the role, even while desperately looking for a recalcitrant spouse. Heaven forbid anyone suspect she was concerned or anything. Rumors, she knew, spread worse than fleas in an overcrowded household.
There was more than enough overcrowding beneath Harbury Hall.
Her teeth were aching, from being ground together in frustration, when she finally made it down to the sixth level. Having been here to visit the Henderson project so recently, she was familiar with the layout and it took only a few moments to decide that his laboratory would be the best place to start her search.
She was absolutely correct.
And yet the sight that met her eyes when she opened the heavy door was not one to generate any relief in her at all.
Quite the opposite.
It was an appalling mess of blood, body parts and things that should never see the light of day.
In the middle of it all was Randall. He had removed his jacket and his shirt was thick with a dark red stain she recognized all too well. One side of his face was covered and dripping with it, giving him the appearance of wearing a ghoulish half mask. He was seated at a table with some kind of dish in front of him, and in it were bits of something and a knife and fork.
He looked up as she stepped carefully inside and shut the door behind her.
“Glad to see you, my dear. Care for a bite?” He stabbed at something in the plate and waved it at her. “No? Never mind. Won’t go to waste.”
Then he ate it.
Alwynne swallowed down bile, forcing herself to look away.
That was a bad idea too, though. Not far from the door was a mess of something, in the middle of which was a corset she recognized as belonging to that female assistant of Dr. Henderson’s.
At the end of the laboratory lay a nude figure, perfectly intact except for the face. Which had vanished and probably accounted for the nasty red slop next to the now-bared skull. The creamy skin, spattered now with blood, told Alwynne she was looking at the remains of Galatea.
“It’s really quite nice, you know.” Randall was completing his impromptu meal.
“I’m sure it is, dear.” She humored him. “Tell me, Randall. Have you seen Dr. Henderson?”
Her husband pouted and looked away. “Who?”
“You know who, you naughty thing. You’re teasing me.”
He glanced at her from beneath his lashes and giggled. “I like teasing you.”
“I know. I like it too.” She stepped carefully over the vivid spatters, shining colorfully against the black and white. “But I would like to see the good doctor. He did a very nice job on that model. You liked it a lot, remember?”
“I’m not an idiot.”
Alwynne held her tongue.
“Anyway, he doesn’t want to talk to you.” Randall dropped his fork onto the dish with a clatter.
“Oh? Couldn’t he tell me himself?”
“I doubt it.”
There was that giggle again. Alwynne was losing patience. “Randall, dear? I really do need to talk to Dr. Henderson. Please tell me where he is?”
Randall sighed, burped loudly and then stood up. “Oh well. If you’re going to be like that about it…” He moved to the place where Galatea had been created, and pulled the curtain aside once more with a dramatic gesture. “Here he is.”
Alwynne almost vomited.
Henderson had been lashed to Galatea’s stand, his body pierced with some kind of wire strapping. At least she assumed it was Henderson. This…this… thing—it had no face at all. Just a bloody mess where its features should have been.
If not for the blood soaked laboratory coat and the rest of the stained clothing, Alwynne would not have known who it was.
She swallowed, allowed her fury to override her horrified disgust and turned on Randall. “What did you do, you foul excuse for a man?”
He backed away, as he always did when she finally let her temper free.
“Nothing.”
His whine didn’t impress her. “Randall. I’m speaking to you. What did you do?”
“Well,” he scuffed his toe and kicked what looked like a piece of liver out of the way. “I asked him nicely, Alwynne.”
“Asked him what?”
“Asked him for a face, of course. I want a new face. Don’t like this one anymore.”
“I understand. So what happened after you asked the Doctor?”
Randall’s eyes turned angry. “He said no. No. To me. The one man he should be saying yes to, whenever he got the chance. Fool.”
She took a breath. Inciting his anger was an unpredictable risk and given their present surroundings, not one she cared to incite. “And then?”
Her husband shrugged. “I took his.”
“His what?”
“His face.”
“Oh.” Alwynne had thought herself pretty much immune to this man’s casual atrocities. She was wrong.
“He didn’t seem to mind.”
“Was that before or after you nailed him to that stand?”
“Not nailed. Nothing so ordinary. No, those are clamp things. Not sure what they do, but if you hit them with a hammer, they go right through bone
and everything.” Randall’s eyes glittered madly. “Of course he didn’t like that, but then he stopped screaming and I very carefully cut off his face.”
“I see.” Alwynne bit the inside of her cheek until it bled. “And then?”
“Well, I tried to put it on. Figured if I could get one side latched I’d be ready to try the other.” He pointed to a laboratory slab with things on it she could only guess at. “I found those tiny clips. He used them on that model. I saw.”
He would have, too. Never missed anything.
“How…” she gulped down another threatened vomit reflex. “How astute of you.”
“Anyway, it didn’t work. Didn’t fit and wouldn’t stop slipping around. I think he’s a faker. Or was. He can’t fake anything now, can he?” The giggle tore through her eardrums.
“I suppose not.”
“So I didn’t want to waste anything and I was hungry. I just heated it up and it’s quite tasty.”
Alwynne staggered. This was beyond anything she could have imagined. “You—wait. No. You ate the face?”
“Needed salt.”
She gave up, moved quickly to a sink and her guts rebelled.
“Oh, poor dear. You must have the ague or something.” Randall moved to her. “I shall call your maid for you.”
Hurriedly she wiped her mouth and ran water into the sink. It was for two purposes…to rinse away her disgust and to soak a nearby cloth. She had to clean him up before spiriting him away to his quarters.
And then she had to deal with the most massive problem she had ever faced.
*~~*~~*
Portia went through the motions of her new position with only half an ear listening to what was said. The rest of her thoughts clambered over the seemingly insurmountable problem of freeing an inmate from the lowest level of a highly secret and well protected laboratory facility.
By the time she took her afternoon tea break, the last thing she wanted was company, so she took herself off above ground to stroll the gardens, in spite of the clouds and the rain that threatened to get underway any minute.
She lost herself in the flowers and the greenery, listening to the soothing notes of the birds, breathing deeply and for a moment finding a brief touch of peace.
