The Magician's Diary (Glass and Steele Book 4)

by C. J. Archer

  "I'm more worried about you, Matt." It was dusk, and some hours since he'd last used his watch. I tried to see his face but it was in shadow. "We'll close the curtains so you can use your watch before we arrive at the hospital," I told him, reaching for the curtain.

  "I'm fine, India." His hand closed over mine and he once again held onto it. "I used it just before you arrived home."

  "Right. Good. Do you think I should speak the spell into it again? Last time I made it work a little longer. Would you like me to do it now?"

  "No."

  "Later then."

  "If you wish."

  We fell into silence despite my efforts to think of something to say. Since I could think of nothing and no one except Chronos, I decided I might as well speak about him. "He's an old fool."

  "Yes."

  "He should not have left the house at all."

  "No."

  "It serves him right."

  "It does."

  "He should have stayed in the house where it's safe." I sniffed. "Boredom is no excuse to put one's life in danger." I sniffed again. "He's a selfish, arrogant old man who only cares about one thing."

  "What's that?"

  "Combining his magic with a doctor's, of course."

  "Of course."

  I looked up at him. He was a little blurry. "You disagree?"

  "We've arrived." He opened the door before the coach came to a complete stop and folded down the step. "Wait for us," he told Duke and Cyclops, both on the driver's seat.

  He assisted me down the step and escorted me into the London Hospital. It was the first time we'd come to the Whitechapel Road institution to see a patient and not question a staff member.

  The nurse on the desk in the reception room refused us entry to the men's ward at first as it was outside visiting hours, however when Matt explained the situation, she made sure we were escorted directly to Chronos's bed.

  His eyes were closed and his skin pale but not dangerously so. A patch of blood stained the bandage wrapped around his head and a bruise darkened his swollen jaw. His knuckles sported cuts from fighting back. He did not look to be at death's door, as the constable reported. Still, the unexpected sight of a fragile man in the place of Chronos brought a lump to my throat.

  "He's asleep," whispered the nurse who'd escorted us. "Thank the lord. He's a difficult one."

  "In what way?" Matt whispered back.

  "Wanting to leave and not giving his name. He walked out before we could get him cleaned up, and it took two orderlies to bring him back."

  I smiled, but I wasn't sure why.

  "He can walk?" Matt asked.

  The nurse nodded. "You can take him with you, if you like."

  "Let him sleep a little longer. Is Dr. Ritter on duty?"

  "I believe he's doing his rounds in the women's ward. If you wait in reception, you'll see him soon."

  Matt touched my arm. "Do you want to remain here?"

  "I'll come with you," I whispered.

  We followed the nurse back to the front reception room. "If you wouldn't mind giving the aide at the desk the patient's name for our records," she said.

  She returned to the ward, leaving Matt and I standing there. The nurse at the desk looked up and smiled. "His name?" she prompted.

  "Will Wordsworth," Matt said. "He's a relative from America staying with me."

  "William Wordsworth?" I whispered, walking with him away from the desk. "You couldn't think of someone who's not a famous poet?"

  "I was put on the spot."

  The door at the opposite side of the reception room opened and Dr. Ritter walked out, a clipboard wedged under his arm. He stopped when he saw us and groaned.

  "We're seeing a patient," Matt assured him. "But we thought we'd ask you a few more questions since we're here."

  "I don't have time." Dr. Ritter brushed past him and headed to the men's ward.

  Matt and I followed. "Then we'll talk as you walk," Matt said.

  "I'll call the orderlies to escort you out."

  "And create a scene? That won't be a good sight, Dr. Ritter. Come now, it's just a few questions. Do you know a woman named Nell Sweet of Bright Court, Whitechapel?"

  "I don't remember the names of patients."

  I picked up my skirts and raced after them, back into the men's ward. I looked along the row of beds to Chronos's at the end. He still slept.

  "Dr. Millroy was murdered outside her home," Matt whispered.

  Dr. Ritter paused to check the chart hanging from a hook at the end of a patient's bed.

  "Do you think she was his mistress?" Matt asked.

  "A Whitechapel whore?"

  "I didn't say she was a whore."

  "All women in Whitechapel are in my experience working here."

  "We spoke to Mrs. Millroy, and she confirmed that she was the one who informed you about her husband's experiment with a watchmaker."

  "So?"

  "So you know the name of his co-magician?"

  Dr. Ritter glanced at the nearest patient. Matt had whispered so it was doubtful anyone else would have heard. "He called himself Chronos. Ridiculous name." His gaze flicked to me. Did he know, or guess, that Chronos was my grandfather?

  "You informed the Watchmaker's Guild of his involvement in the experiment and described his appearance to them based on what Mrs. Millroy told you. Did they know him from your description?"

  "You'd have to ask them."

  "What about the man they experimented on? What can you tell us about him?"

  "Is any of this necessary? I'm very busy." He moved on to the next patient. After checking the chart he asked the patient some questions about his level of pain as he pressed his stomach. Going by the man's cries and the way he curled into himself with each poke of Dr. Ritter's fingers, I'd say his pain was considerable.

  Dr. Ritter signaled for a nurse to administer a dose of morphine before moving on to another patient, closer to Chronos. Had he already seen Chronos? Surely he wouldn't have met him all those years ago, nor recognize him now if he had.

  "The vagrant that Dr. Millroy experimented on," Matt prompted, dogging Dr. Ritter. "Our investigations suggest he had a family after all. Do you know anything about that?"

  Dr. Ritter didn't so much as blink at Matt's question. "Since you've spoken to Mrs. Millroy, who is a very direct, no-nonsense woman in my experience, I would say you already know that I know. Whatever she told me she probably told you. Now, do you mind? My patients need me."

  He moved on to another bed, read the chart, then spoke quietly to a nurse. He was four beds away from Chronos. Matt seemed unconcerned. I was not. Even if Dr. Ritter had never met Chronos all those years ago, would he not think it strange that we were collecting a patient from the hospital? He might guess the connection.

  "Have you been in contact with Mr. Abercrombie lately?" Matt asked when Dr. Ritter moved on to the next bed.

  The doctor wrote something on the chart and took his time studying it. "We've met to discuss your investigation into Dr. Millroy's murder, along with the present Surgeon's Guild master. That is not a sign of guilt, Mr. Glass. We simply wanted to discuss what it might mean for our respective guilds since you've been quite secretive about your reasons for re-opening the case."

  "I haven't been secretive," Matt said. "The case was re-opened by the police."

  Dr. Ritter grunted and moved on again. He was now two beds from Chronos.

  Chronos cracked open his eyes. He looked drowsy and confused as he took in his surroundings. He noticed his bruised knuckles then touched his bandaged head. A nurse approached him, smiling and talking softly.

  I remained where I stood, unsure whether to go to him or not. In his muddled state, he might say too much in front of Dr. Ritter.

  "What time did you get to the hospital today?" Matt asked.

  Dr. Ritter frowned. "Mid-morning. Why?"

  "Have you been out?"

  "You have no right to ask me these absurd questions. They have nothing to do w
ith Dr. Millroy's murder."

  "Did you ever meet the horology magician known as Chronos?"

  I sucked in a breath. The question was far too audacious considering Chronos was lying mere feet away.

  "No," Dr. Ritter said. "He died before I was able to question him about his involvement in the vagrant's murder."

  "It wasn't murder," I said. "The vagrant agreed to participate and knew the risks."

  Dr. Ritter peered down his nose at me. "You would say that, Miss Steele. I believe he was your grandfather, wasn't he?"

  So he did know. Oh hell. I didn't dare look in Chronos's direction.

  "Excuse me, Dr. Ritter, sir," said the nurse leaning over Chronos. "Will you take a look at this patient before he's discharged?"

  My heart stopped dead in my chest as Dr. Ritter read Chronos's chart. Chronos looked first to me then Matt, a question in his eyes. Matt offered him a small smile.

  "This is my uncle by marriage," Matt said, holding out a hand to Chronos.

  Chronos took it and allowed Matt to assist him to sit up. Dr. Ritter came closer and frowned into Chronos's face. He'd already admitted he'd never met Chronos but did he see a family resemblance to me behind his white whiskers? If he did, and he informed Abercrombie, Abercrombie would come directly to our house in search of him.

  "His name is Will Wordsworth," Matt added.

  "Like the poet," Dr. Ritter said, nodding.

  "He's staying with us but went wandering today. It seems he found himself in a spot of bother."

  "Matt's uncle is quite the bumbling fool," I said.

  Chronos's gaze narrowed.

  "It appears he wandered into a bad area." Matt sounded cavalier, but he watched Dr. Ritter's reaction closely.

  Dr. Ritter's gaze flicked to me then back to Chronos. It was a good time to study my boots.

  "Can I take him home now?" Matt asked. He went to assist Chronos to stand, but Dr. Ritter put his arm across Chronos's chest, forcing him to remain in the bed.

  "One moment." Dr. Ritter asked the nurse to pass him the chart from the end of the bed. He pulled out a pencil from his top pocket and held it poised over the chart. "What's your name?"

  "Will Wordsworth," Chronos said in an American accent.

  The nurse frowned but said nothing as Dr. Ritter wrote.

  "Where do you live?" Dr. Ritter asked.

  "California, but I'm visiting my nephew. He's got a big house in Mayfair, thanks to his English relatives."

  "How long have you been in London?"

  Chronos's gaze flicked to Matt. Dr. Ritter's gaze followed it. Matt stood utterly still and I made sure not to give anything away either. "A week," Chronos said. "Maybe more." He touched his head and winced.

  "What ship did you arrive on?"

  Matt scoffed. "That information isn't necessary to make his head feel better."

  "But it does help me to ascertain whether he injured his brain."

  "My brain is working perfectly," Chronos said, shoving the bedcovers off. "Pass me my trousers. I want to leave. I hate hospitals."

  "See?" Matt said cheerfully. "He's fine. He's always like this, isn't he, India?"

  "Usually worse," I said, turning my back as Chronos dressed.

  Dr. Ritter dictated instructions for tending to Chronos's head wound, telling us to fetch a physician if he became unwell or dizzy. Then he walked off without so much as a goodbye.

  Matt offered his hand to Chronos, but Chronos batted it away.

  "I can walk," he growled.

  "Remarkable," the nurse said as she led us back to the reception room. "You didn't speak with an accent before."

  "The blow to my head must have effected my speech," Chronos said without missing a beat.

  "How curious. I ought to report it to Dr. Ritter. He'll be interested—"

  "No," both Matt and I said together. "That will lead to questions, and my uncle doesn't want to be bothered," Matt added. He turned a bright smile on her. "You do a remarkable job here, Sister…?"

  She blushed. "Lorelei Kenner, sir. Thank you, sir. It's not often we get praised."

  He fell back to walk alongside her. "Have you had a long day today?"

  "Quite long. I started at midday and have a few more hours to go before the nightshift take over."

  "Has it been busy?" What was Matt getting at?

  "Not overly. Weekends usually are, but not mid-week."

  "So you probably had time to sneak out to dine at a chop house," Matt said with a secretive smile that had the nurse blushing more.

  Ah, now I caught on. I smiled to myself. He was good at getting information this way. Far too good.

  "Not me, sir," the nurse said. "I've been here all afternoon. Some of the other nurses go out when they can, and the doctors come and go."

  Matt gave a knowing nod. "Dr. Ritter said he went out about an hour or two ago."

  The nurse did not show any sign that she detected his lie. If I hadn't known Dr. Ritter refused to answer that question, I would have thought Matt spoke the truth. "I believe he dined at a chophouse," she said.

  "Come, Uncle Will," Matt said, taking Chronos's arm. "Allow me to assist you to my conveyance."

  Matt signed a form at the front desk and we made to leave.

  "Matt!" cried a voice I knew. "India! What are you doing here?" We turned to see Willie descending the staircase that led up to the doctors' offices and other staff rooms.

  "Willie?" I said, and repeated the question she'd just asked us.

  She approached, smiling, then caught sight of Chronos. "This ain't a wise place to bring him, considering…you know." She glanced up the stairs.

  "Dr. Ritter thinks he's my uncle from America," Matt said, directing us to the front door. "He was in a fight and got brought here."

  "That explains the bandage." Willie shook her head. "What you doing fighting at your age?"

  "I was attacked," Chronos said as we headed down the front steps to our coach, waiting by a streetlamp. "I didn't see him."

  "Willie?" Duke stood up on the driver's platform and squinted into the gloom. "What the blazes are you doing here?"

  "She hasn't yet explained," I told him, wildly curious myself.

  "Ain't none of your business, Duke," she called up. "That goes for the rest of you, too."

  Duke sat down again with a humph. Cyclops chuckled, earning him an elbow in the ribs. "Get in," Duke growled. "I'm cold and it's dinnertime."

  "Let's go before Ritter gets suspicious," Chronos said. He rested his palm flat against the door for balance. He allowed Matt to assist him into the coach and sat heavily on the seat.

  "If he's suspicious," Matt said, "he'll pay us a visit. My guess is he'll discuss it with Abercrombie and decide if there is anything to be suspicious about, first."

  "Abercrombie will be more skeptical about the sudden appearance of an uncle," I said, sitting alongside Chronos. He'd closed his eyes and tipped his head back. I touched his arm. "Are you all right?"

  "I have a headache."

  "Mrs. Bristow will have something for it."

  "I need Dr. Millroy." He cracked open an eyelid when no one answered him. "I'm aware he's dead. My memory's fine. But a magician doctor can cure some headaches since they're only temporary ailments anyway." He gingerly touched his bandage. "If I ever catch the person who did this…"

  "Any clues as to who it was?" Matt asked.

  "No," Chronos growled. "He came at me from behind. I tried to fight him off but he got the better of me. I fell and hit my head on the pavement." He fingered the swelling on his jaw. "I think my tooth is loose."

  "You're lucky," Willie told him. "I've seen men die after hitting their heads."

  We took a corner a little quickly, causing Chronos to slide against the side of the cabin. He winced and thumped the ceiling. "Slow down!"

  "Duke's driving," Willie said. "He's mad at me for not telling him why I was at the hospital."

  "Why were you at the hospital?" Matt asked.

  "Ain't no one'
s business but mine."

  That seemed to satisfy him but it certainly didn't satisfy me. Why was she being so secretive? Was she ill or injured? If so, why had she been smiling when we first saw her? Perhaps a doctor had just informed her she was cured of her mystery ailment.

  "What were you talking to Dr. Ritter about?" Chronos asked Matt. "I couldn't quite hear."

  "I wanted to know if he was aware that Mr. Wilson had a family," Matt said.

  "I told you, he didn't. Why else would he be living on the streets?" Chronos closed his eyes again and didn't open them until we stopped outside Matt's house.

  Peter helped Chronos up the stairs and acted as valet, but I insisted on taking a tray into him with a light supper. He lay in bed but sat up when I entered. I moved Mrs. Bristow's headache tonic aside and set the tray down on the bedside table.

  I perched on the edge of the bed. "How do you feel?"

  "Like I hit my head on the pavement." He inspected the contents of the tray and plucked off a carrot stick. He took one bite and put it back. "I'm not hungry."

  "I'll leave it here if you change your mind." I rearranged the pillows so he could sit up better and caught him giving me an odd look. I frowned back at him. "What is it?"

  "It's been a long time since a pretty girl took care of me."

  "I'm your granddaughter."

  "You're still a pretty girl. There's nothing wrong with saying something that's true." He settled back with a sigh. "I forgot how nice it is to be taken care of."

  "You're lucky you're still walking and talking. At your age, a blow like that could have been fatal."

  "I'm feeling my age, India." His usually steady voice sounded reedy, brittle. "Sometimes I wonder how I got this old. Time slipped past while I was doing other things." He smiled weakly. "Ironic for a horology magician."

  "You should have slowed down more. Smelled the roses, as they say."

  "Smelling roses wasn't for me."

  "Nor was keeping shop or raising a family."

  He sighed. "Will you always be angry with me for leaving?"

  "Probably." I picked at a thread of embroidery on my cuff that I hadn't stitched well. "Perhaps I shouldn't be. Your absence didn't have a great effect on me. It did on my father and grandmother, I'm sure, but I was well loved by both my parents and never lacked for affection."