The Fallen (The Sublime Electricity Book #3)

by Pavel Kornev

  After that, I sat for a while in a street cafe, caught my breath and headed out in search of a gun store. Just a folding knife and the three-round Cerberus didn't seem an even remotely adequate arsenal.

  In the shop, I spent a long time pacing from one shelf to the next. The most popular models for vacationers were hunting rifles and pocket revolvers. In the end, the salesman grew annoyed with my pacing, pulled away from his newspaper and made a suggestion:

  "Why not a Browning?"

  I didn't like the Browning, because the caliber wasn't high enough, which is what I told the man. And, wanting to avoid another useless piece of advice, asked:

  "Could I please take a look at a Luger Parabellum and a Webley-Scott 18-76."

  Both of the pistols were nine-millimeter. Both had approximately equal dimensions and removable eight-round magazines as well as automatic safeties jutting out the back of the handle. In all other regards, they were as dissimilar as heaven and earth. The handles were at a different angle, and the construction was fundamentally different. As for all the rest, the Parabellum kicked back when shooting, separating the upper part of the pistol frame from the lower.

  Unsurprisingly, the Luger was somewhat more to my liking. It sat very pleasantly in my hand. And so that was what I took.

  At the same time, I bought an extra magazine, a couple boxes of rounds and topped up my reserves of Cerberus ammo. The salesman was not too happy at my purchases. He looked desperate to get back to his crossword.

  Next, I met another person who wasn't happy to see me, the pawn-shop worker. He spent a long time hemming and hawing and flipping through bills. But eventually, he voiced a total in clear hope that he wouldn't have to return the cufflinks, but he was wrong: I paid up, took the goods and headed out to the four winds.

  Once home, I set out my purchases on the kitchen table and checked the Luger’s internal mechanisms. At first glance, it seemed to be smooth as clockwork. All that remained was to test it in action, but I didn't want to shoot in the basement – my neighbors might get upset at the noise, or get confused and call the police.

  I hesitated briefly, trying to decide if it was worth chambering a round. In the end, I did, then stashed the pistol in the holster on my belt. After that, I turned around before the mirror, but the jacket wasn't bulging out in the slightest. A discriminating eye could easily tell that I had a holster under my clothing, but I didn't want to come across anyone with such a demeanor.

  After all the errands, I had totally forgotten about my meeting with Liliana, only remembering it by complete chance – I just looked mechanically at my timepiece and noticed that it was already quarter to two and I felt like having a bite to eat.

  "The restaurant!" I facepalmed, picking the keys up from the table and hopping out of the building.

  It was really pointless for me to worry: even though the rented apartment was located on the very outskirts, at a quick pace, it took me just ten minutes to reach downtown, if not less. I didn't even lose my breath. What was more – I actually had to wait at the restaurant. Liliana, as women are wont to do, arrived late. By the time she showed up, I had already drained a few glasses of lemonade, taking in the views of the restored amphitheater and the dirigible hovering over it.

  Liliana kissed me on the cheek, took a seat by my side and inquired straight off:

  "I hope you haven't had a change of mind on this evening's reception?"

  "Is that an option?"

  "Leo!" she threatened with a finger and smiled. "Behave yourself, my dear!"

  I only sighed. I had no desire to attend the society function, but I didn't want to let Liliana go all by herself, either. And I had promised. I'd go. How could I not?

  A waiter approached, we ordered and I got a notepad and a pencil. Meticulously sweeping the pencil shavings into an ashtray, I sharpened my slate with a folding knife and asked:

  "It may be an immodest question, but is anyone else aware of your performances at the cabaret?"

  Liliana looked gloomy.

  "What is that for, Leo?"

  "I don't believe in Kali," I announced directly. "People are perfectly capable of stirring up problems without any need for divine interference."

  "And what about infernal creatures?"

  Now came my turn to frown in vexation and tug at the loop of my glasses.

  "That's a different story," I declared in the end, removing my spectacles and looking her in the eyes. "Lily, I want to help you. I really do."

  She covered my hand with hers and offered:

  "I don't have to keep performing, just say the word. But I'm afraid, Leo. I'm scared of the consequences. I don't want to lose you."

  "And I don't want to lose you," I replied quickly. "That is not the issue. I promised to help, and I must keep my promise. I must do everything in my power. Otherwise, my word isn't worth a centime."

  "And I would never reproach you for that."

  "But I would reproach myself for it."

  Liliana sighed, then smiled mysteriously and squinted:

  "Am I understanding correctly that you are trying to solve the problem by using your professional experience? Are you a cop, Leo?"

  "I was one," I admitted.

  Lily began clapping and laughed.

  "I'm starting to figure you out. You're a walking mystery!"

  But I didn't let her lead me astray, and tapped my finger on the notepad.

  "Who knew about the performances?" I forwarded my first theory: "The cabaret owner?"

  "No, he's never seen me without a veil. Also, don't forget: I got the note before I first went to him."

  "Ah, that's right," I replied, forced to admit what I’d overlooked. "I'll need to dig deeper, then. Who in Calcutta knew about your being consecrated to the goddess?"

  Liliana thought for some time.

  "I don't know, Leo. I never spoke with anyone but my governess."

  It was obvious that she didn't like the conversation, but I wasn't prepared to retreat and came at it from a different angle.

  "Other than cultists?"

  "My father," Lily answered. "He was the one who conducted the investigation."

  "Who else?"

  "No one. Daddy burned the investigation records. He didn't even tell mother. I often get the impression he still suffers from it."

  I didn't include the Marquise in my list of suspects, just continued the interrogation:

  "Which of your servants lived with you at that time in Calcutta?"

  "Leo! No one knew anything!"

  "They might have overheard something, or said something to someone. I'm not planning to accuse anyone of anything. I won't even talk to anyone. I'm just being thorough. Don't be afraid, no one will ever have to know what you tell me."

  "You're such a boy!" Liliana shook her head. "Missing your old job?"

  I took her by the hand and kissed the tips of her fingers.

  "I must do something. Lack of action is torture, my love."

  "Love?"

  "Standard expression," I walked it back with a smirk and winked at her.

  Liliana pulled her hand away in mock anger, falling back in her seat and furrowing her brow.

  "Write this," she told me after a minute of thought, and started dictating names.

  I started writing them down. I didn't believe the thugees were as perfectly elusive as Liliana said. A servant leaving a note seemed quite a lot more likely. Incidentally, I was soon reminded of how quickly the gang of thugees had filled that dead-end alley, and my skeptical outlook was somewhat shaken. But I had to start from somewhere...

  The dishes were eventually brought out and we started our meal, now somewhat more constrained than before. The conversation didn't disappear without a trace, though, and left the burdensome impression of something ugly and inappropriate.

  Fortunately, after a glass of wine, Liliana was back in an excellent state of spirit and started asking me about the apartment.

  "Will you invite me to enjoy the view of the lake?"
she smiled when we'd paid up and were on our way out.

  "It's unbecoming of an innocent girl to visit the home of a bachelor," I answered with a smirk, but an idea suddenly captivated me. There was more than enough time left before this evening's reception.

  The clever fox Liliana broke down laughing.

  "Maybe tomorrow? If you behave yourself. And you will behave yourself, won't you Leo?"

  There wasn't time to answer. From somewhere behind me, I heard:

  "Blow me down! Leo, do my eyes deceive me or is that really you?"

  With a shudder, I turned and saw Albert Brandt, having descended from the second floor of the restaurant with Elizabeth-Maria in tow.

  "Weren't you planning to leave this little corner of heaven?" the poet reminded me and smoothed his sand-colored beard. "So, why the devil would you..." Albert gave a light bow to my companion, tipping his hat at the same time, and found it appropriate to soften his expression, "deceive me like that?"

  Elizabeth-Maria, wearing a black garment, didn't say a word, but I could sense her blind eyes staring at me from behind the thick veil.

  "Albert, you've got it all wrong. I left, but now I'm back."

  "Weren't you packing up?"

  "Circumstances changed."

  "And you didn't come to me?"

  "Come off it!" I clapped the poet on the shoulder. "I got back at six this morning and have been running around town since then with my tongue hanging out, getting my affairs in order. I was planning to drop by yours in the second half of the day. We're practically neighbors."

  "Great! What are your plans for tonight?"

  Liliana smiled and said:

  "We've been invited to a reception at the Maxwell mansion."

  "What an amazing coincidence! See you there, then!"

  Albert walked to the bar, but immediately turned back around. It seemed to me he was being held in place by Elizabeth-Maria, who's fingers were clenching her spouse's arm a bit tighter than usual.

  "Oh, and we’re planning to visit the hot springs today!" the poet said. "Won't you join us?"

  "Right now?" I considered it.

  "That's right!"

  "We don't have any bathing suits," Liliana cast some doubt on the matter.

  "Neither do we!" Elizabeth-Maria laughed softly. "A wonderful excuse to go shopping, don't you think?"

  Lily looked at me and asked:

  "What do you say, Leo? I'd be glad to."

  "And why not?" I shrugged, glancing at my watch. "We've got plenty of time, as long as you don't take too long shopping."

  "We'll do our best," Elizabeth-Maria smiled.

  "Then it's decided!" the poet came to life.

  And we headed out shopping.

  The hot spring pools were on the slope of a mountain overlooking a steep-sided gorge. At its bottom, a fast-flowing river thundered over the alpine stones. I was standing on the edge of an artificial oxbow fenced in with an iron handrail. Hot water splashed up from the wall and flowed down in a constant curtain. From there, it cascaded down into another pool, falling again and again until it emptied into the gorge.

  There was also a view of the powerplant roof from up here, and I knew from the many post cards I'd seen that the muddy flow would soon disappear into the stumpy structure, turning the generator shafts and flowing out with foam and splashes.

  "Maxwell's last child," Albert Brandt said thoughtfully, standing next to me, then shivering in the cool breeze. "Brr... let's go take a dip."

  "Let's go!"

  At the edge of the clay-tiled square, the water didn't even reach half-way up my ankle, but the further you went into the covered pool, the deeper it got. And the temperature rose at the same time. There was a slight steam rising off the surface.

  In the warm seasons, the side panels to outdoors were removed, so we didn't have to dive under to get into the pool. Wading outside, we came out of the public baths and walked over to the private bath we’d rented.

  The air inside was humid and hot, but in the wet swimming suit, I was shivering a bit. My striped garment, unlike the one Albert had bought, covered my arms to the elbow, but that didn't provide me with even the slightest warmth. Incidentally, I had chosen this style only because the sleeves covered my tattoos; the only part that peeked out was the bracelet of interwoven crosses.

  There were lots of people in the pool. Water was splashing everywhere. Screams of elation echoed over the surface of the reservoir. I threw back the curtain of the walled-off bathhouse and took shelter inside. I stepped into the spacious bath, stood on the upper stair, growing accustomed to the hot water, then slowly took a seat and immersed myself up to the neck. Through a gap in the floor, there were hot streams of water lapping. The excess water flowed out into the common pool.

  "Wonderful!" Albert exhaled in ecstasy. "No worse than the thermae of the capital."

  "A fine observation," I agreed, taking a seat on the marble ledge that encircled the perimeter of the pool. "But I'm afraid we'll boil up before our ladies make it out here."

  "Is it really that serious with you two?" the poet asked.

  I didn't have time to answer. The curtain rocked aside and we were joined by Liliana and Elizabeth-Maria. Their bathing suits consisted of short dresses with frills and pants going to the knees. The arms and ankles were exposed.

  Lily helped Elizabeth-Maria down the steps, and the girls plunked into the water with a yelp and a giggle. They splashed around for a bit then, following our example, sat on the marble ledge, enjoying the soft pressure of the water jets from below.

  "A true miracle of this world," Liliana said, squinting in bliss. "Wouldn’t you say, Leo?"

  "Yes indeed," I answered, although having Lily by my side seemed a much more miraculous occurrence than any natural hot spring. If possible, I would have paid handsomely for a quarter hour alone with Lily at that moment. But we didn't break the rules of common decency, sitting respectably in place and carrying on polite conversation. All the same, I vowed I would eventually visit the baths with Lily alone.

  We went out into the common pool several times, where the water wasn't so hot, and even left to get some fresh air outside. After some time, we grew weary and headed off to get dressed. Albert and Elizabeth-Maria stayed to partake in the spa's concessions. Liliana and I returned to the city.

  When I was taken home, I got out of the carriage and pointed to the tree-encircled manor.

  "This is my new place."

  "I'll come get you at six," Lily reminded me.

  "I'll be expecting you!" I promised, but didn't even enter the yard. After the carriage turned the corner, I went straight to the telegraph office. I sent Ramon a telegram with my list of potential suspects and returned home only after that. The atmosphere of the vacation town had a relaxing effect, but I still knew I shouldn't forget that it wasn't so very long ago that someone had tried to kill me.

  I wore a dark blue suit to the evening reception, which had been sewn especially for situations like this. But first I shaved, changed my underwear and placed the gold cufflinks into the cuffs of a clean shirt. After that, I looked in an old dusty mirror, combed my hair and was left completely and totally satisfied with my own reflection.

  Incidentally, I didn't get to enjoy the mental calm for long, because Lily rolled up together with her parents, and the four of us headed off to the evening reception together. That didn't make me happy at all. Liliana's mother, I suspect, wasn't too elated either. And what was on George's mind, to be honest, I didn't have the foggiest notion. All on his own, he seemed like a simple and joyful person, but when accompanied by his wife he became more respectable and penetrating. And that left me somewhat frightened.

  To my considerable surprise, I discovered Maxwell's former home was located nowhere near the center of town. In fact, it was directly adjacent to a ring of the electric streetcar line, and on its outer edge. The strange location was probably chosen due to its proximity to the great man of science's last child: there was a great view fro
m here of the hulking, gloomy hydroelectric dam. In all other ways, the location of the evening reception fully met my expectations; a spacious garden encircled the property and, in the middle of it, there was a towering three-story mansion with a stucco facade.

  Incidentally, the property was not evidence that the great man of science ever possessed particular wealth. The estate was given to him on a personal order from Emperor Clement immediately after he was elevated to the throne. Some even considered the gift just a respectable excuse to keep him away from the halls of power.

  There was a long train of carriages stretching from the very gates up the driveway to the plaza before the mansion. The coachmen were driving around the circular marble fountain, letting their guests out and driving away to wait for the end of the reception somewhere on the streets nearby.

  I got first out of the carriage and gave a hand to Liliana, then tried to stay inconspicuously behind, hoping to lose my new girlfriend’s parents. And I didn't even have to come up with an excuse: there was a huge crowd of gapers before a stone slab near the entrance. I started reading the plaque: "The great scientist James Clerk Maxwell lived the last years of his life in this home..." and before I finished, Lily jerked me by the arm.

  "Let's take it slow!" she whispered out with the corner of her mouth. "And take off your glasses."

  I removed my dark eyepieces with a fateful sigh. Thankfully, there was nothing to be ashamed of – nearly half of the attendees of this function were illustrious – and I walked off after the Marquess and Marquise.

  The event organizers had hired a cameraman, and his video-capture device was installed right at the entrance, filming everyone as they entered, clearly intending to edit the scenes down into a video report. Who might see it, I didn't know, so when walking past, I covered my face with my hand, as if just happening to raise my hand to adjust my hair.