Cassidy St. Claire and The Fountain of Youth Parts I, II, & III

by A. H. Rousseau

Cassidy paused to analyze Gideon before speaking. “State Department, eh?”

  “Yes ma'am,” replied Gideon.

  “Well that sounds official enough, show him, Joe,” said Cassidy. Joseph unwrapped the hand, holding it in front of Gideon. “I removed this from a man's arm yesterday. Or perhaps it's close to say that this was his arm. It is technology beyond anything we've ever seen, borderline magic. And according to our own expert on micro-hydraulics, this baby is loaded with them.”

  “With micro-hydraulics, you mean?” asked Gideon.

  “Oh yeah,” replied Cassidy. “Our experts, specifically George here,” she said, pointing her thumb toward George, “recommended bringing the hand to the professor for insight. He rather suspiciously claimed ignorance before showing us the door... In fairness, it was a very nice door.”

  “Might I hold it?” Gideon asked.

  “Oh yes, of course,” replied Cassidy.

  “Careful. It's got some heft to it,” said Joseph as he handed it to Gideon.

  “Lift up the metal plate. You can pop it up with your fingernail,” said George. Gideon did so and his eyes widened as he looked at the complex mechanism inside.

  “My god,” Gideon gasped.

  “Impressive, no?” asked Cassidy.

  “More than that. I've been out here for nearly a month, working ten, fifteen hours a day, and haven't been able to dig up a lead like this. “I scarcely know where to begin?”

  “I do,” said Cassidy. “With him,” she said, motioning toward Jacobson's house with her thumb.

  “Seems that way,” replied Gideon.

  “What's your interest with him, anyhow?” asked Joseph.

  Gideon stood their silently, thinking. “Oh yes, yes. I came here asking about Professor Hoffman and, at first, Jacobson claimed to not know him. After I presented him with letters between him and Hoffman, he then changed his story, saying that he corresponds with so many people that he forgets their names. Even after this, he was, noticeably, almost blatantly, evasive with my questions. I had no reason to suspect anything, until now of course, nor do I really have the authority to press, so I couldn't stay.”

  “The slippery bastard,” said Cassidy.

  “So even now, I'm somewhat stuck,” said Gideon. “Do you think it would be—“

  “So what was so special about your missing professor?” asked Cassidy, interrupting him.

  “How do you mean?” asked Gideon.

  “Well he was obviously exceptionally special, otherwise you wouldn't be out here,” replied Cassidy.

  “Well he's a prominent person about whom many people care a great deal. Isn't that a job for the authorities?”

  “Certainly, but a three-thousand mile trip by State Department officials? That's more than caring.”

  “Indeed,” added Joseph, turning to face Gideon and shifting his body slightly. “I hadn't thought of that. The State Department would never send out an agent for a simple kidnapping.”

  Gideon shrugged and looked away. “I don't know what to say. I was simply sent out here by my superiors. No other special parameters or orders.”

  “Don't give us that shit, son,” replied Joseph. “You're too young to be a great liar.”

  “Look,” added Cassidy, “you're obviously pretty excited about meeting us, and we're excited about meeting you, but if you don't tell us what you know, we say goodbye right here. I don't have time to fuck around.”

  Gideon fidgeted a bit. “I... I don't think I have the authority to reveal anything than other what I've told you.”

  “Oh come now,” said Joseph dismissively. “In the field, you make your own authority. We're on the same side. You've got a missing professor, we have a dead friend.”

  “Dead friend?” asked Gideon.

  “Yes,” replied Joseph.

  “That's one of our reasons for being out here,” said Cassidy. “A few days ago an employee of my company was killed in his office, and we think the professor is somehow associated with the men who did it.”

  “Your company?” asked Gideon.

  “Yes. Us women can own companies in this fantastic modern age,” replied Cassidy.

  “I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way,” said Gideon. “I meant to ask if you were Cassidy St. Claire, the industrialist.”

  Cassidy smiled with faux snootiness and looked to Joseph. “My reputation precedes me.”

  “It's an honor to meet you,” said Gideon, stepping back. He extended his right arm and a small gun on a spring-loaded armature extended from his coat and into his hand.

  Cassidy let out a laugh and smiled. “The card-sharp derringers! Are those the quick-reload models?”

  “The very same,” Gideon replied, smiling.

  “Those never did work very well. I'm surprised to see one in use.”

  “Two,” he replied, giving the hand back to Joseph and then extending a sister gun from his other sleeve. Cassidy laughed “The department had some fun with the designs. They work pretty well now,” Gideon said with a smile. He curled his arms tightly against themselves which retracted the gun back into his sleeve with a click. He then adjusted his collars. After looking at the ground for a moment in thought, he raised his head. “Alright. I'll tell you what I know, but it's not much.”

  “It's more the gesture than anything else,” replied Cassidy. “It shows us that you care.”

  “Professor Hoffman had been doing work for the United States. I don't know what, but I do know that it was important. President important. They didn't ever say it directly, but based on some of my superiors' comments, I'm assuming that he was under suspicion of working with, um... nefarious persons.” Gideon reached into his pocket and retrieved a photograph of a middle-aged man with big beard and poofy hair. “Then one day about a month ago, he just disappeared. No leads, no information, with a tea kettle still on the stove. All we had were letters to Professor Jacobson written in what we think was code, some damage around an open window, and reports from others in the neighborhood of a loud noise in the night.”

  “A loud noise?” asked Cassidy, her interest piqued.

  “Yes. A number of people likened it to a locomotive or a hurricane.”

  “That sounds familiar,” said Cassidy.

  “How so?” asked Gideon.

  Cassidy paused in thought before looking back at the Professor's house. She caught sight of him in a window, watching them. Scared, he quickly hid from view. “I'll give you the details later. Right now I don't want to risk losing our best lead out a window or something. Also, I want more of that asshole salami acid, or whatever the hell he called it. I already feel better.”

  “I'm not sure I can, miss,” said Gideon, fidgeting in place. “I don't have the authority to simply force my way into someone's house.”

  “You and your authority,” said Cassidy with a smirk as she walked quickly away from the group and toward Professor Jacobson's door. Joseph and George trotted to catch up while Gideon fidgeted in place, debating whether he should go. After a moment with the conflict visible on his face, he finally hot-footed his way up to the door with them.

  Cassidy gave three good knocks on the door. They waited for a moment. Then three more knocks. “We know you're in their professor! Open the goddamn door!” yelled Cassidy. They waited for another moment as Gideon shuffled in place, looking around nervously. “If you don't open the door I'll just shoot the locks off.” There was no response still. “Alright professor! Have it your way! I feel bad for your door! Because it's a very nice door!” Cassidy drew her St. Claire revolver and readied to shoot it.

  “Go away! I told you that I can't help you!” the Professor yelled from behind the door.

  “I know! I'm ignoring that!” responded Cassidy.

  “If you don't go away I will ring for the police!”

  “And then I will pay them to go away,” said Cassidy arrogantly.

  “Jesus,” said Gideon, quietly.

  “You stop being embarrassed after awhile,” whispered George
into Gideon's ear.

  “Professor, you have two choices,” said Cassidy. “Either you open the door, or I shoot it until it opens.”

  With that, the clicking of locks, and the door opened slightly. “What gives you the right—“ Cassidy interrupted him by pushing her way in. He stepped back and restarted “what gives you the right to storm into my home and threaten me?!” the Professor demanded.

  “What gives me the right? What gives you the right to lie through your teeth to both me and an agent of the U.S. Government?! You want to ring for the police? Go right ahead. I'm sure they will be very interested in what we all have to say!” The Professor's maid, Miss Hernandez, peeked into the room from the door opposite the Professor's office. Joseph glanced over at her and gave her a comforting look and motioned his open hand out a little bit, simultaneously trying to calm her and also tell her to keep quiet.

  The brow-beating subdued the professor, who looked away, blinking rapidly. He stood there for a moment before regaining his composure. “No. I will not be bullied by some spoiled, uncultured, piece of trash.”

  “Fine,” replied Cassidy, standing tall. “Gideon, arrest him.” Gideon looked at Cassidy, surprised.

  Gideon leaned toward Cassidy a bit. “Uhh, Miss St. Claire. I, uh, I don't—“ he stammered.

  “I know you don't want to,” interrupted Cassidy. “But I don't know about you, but I'm tired of playing games with a corrupt old man.” Gideon stared at Cassidy for a moment as she maintained eye contact with The Professor.

  “Uh, yes. I suppose you're right,” Gideon said as he began to walk over the The Professor.

  “And while you are in jail, I'll make sure to spread rumors about your reasons for being arrested and that you are talking to police. I'm sure your employers will be very happy to hear that.” The Professor started to breath heavily and had a fierce look of anger on his face.

  “Mister Albert Jacobson, under the authority of the U.S. State Department, I'm placing you under arrest,” said Gideon, not making eye contact with the professor.

  Cassidy paced a bit in a display of arrogant confidence. “All I have to do now is decide what rumors to spread. Maybe that you're a fairy!” Gideon shot Cassidy a quick glance. “That's always good to ruin someone's life.”

  “Perhaps being inappropriate with little boys,” added Joseph.

  “Ooh,” replied Cassidy with a smile, pointing at Joseph. “That's a good one. I like that.”

  “And don't forget the old fashioned ones,” said Joseph. “Corruption, adultery—“

  “That last one would be good, but he's not married.” She looked to The Professor. “Are you married?” The Professor stared daggers and sneered at her. “I don't think he's married,” she said, turning back to Joseph.

  “Yes, but he was sleeping with someone else's wife,” replied Joseph.

  “Oh riiight. Youuuuu,” she said with a smile. “This is why I keep you around. So many good ideas.”

  “You bastards,” The Professor growled. “You goddamned bastards. You're no better than thugs.”

  “Of course we are!” said Cassidy in a display of insult. “If we were thugs, we simply would have started hitting you.”

  “If I tell you what I know, will you leave me alone?” The Professor said with a mix of anger and sorrow in his inflection.

  “That depends on what you know,” said Cassidy.

  “No deal!” barked The Professor. “I talk, you leave, end of story.”

  Cassidy paused in thought. She put her hand to her mouth and patted it lightly. “What you say had better line up with what we know, or else you'll open a whole world of new trouble.”

  The Professor motioned with his arm toward his office door. “Please. Come into my office. You'll forgive me for not getting you water, but I want you to die.”

  “Can I get more of that pain medicine?” asked Cassidy as she walked by.

  “You will never get anything else from me in your entire, God-forsaken life,” said The Professor, closing the door behind them.

  “So who do you work for?” asked Cassidy.

  “I don't know,” replied The Professor, flatly.

  “Bullshit,” said Cassidy.

  “It's not,” said The Professor, walking up to and leaning on his desk again. “I've been doing work for people who claimed to be government agents for many years. I knew that they weren't, but I didn't care. They paid me five times what I was earning for my usual work and provided me with tools and resources I scarcely believed existed. I assume that they are in fact government agents, but for another country.”

  “So it's treason, then,” said Gideon.

  “Hardly, boy,” said The Professor in an angry, condescending tone. “I am free to do whatever I damn well please. I'm not stealing anything from the government, nor do I know them to be an enemy. They are simply people funding my work. And besides, you never came knocking at my door! You never paid my research any heed! You and your goddamned government ignored me and never cared! Don't get pissy when someone else does!” The Professor returned his gaze to Cassidy. “My work started off small, working with electro-chemical reactions and the transfer of electrical energy into chemo-mechanical energy. With their resources, I made progress that was unimaginable.”

  “How did you make contact with them?” asked Gideon.

  “I never did. They would make contact with me via the telephone and telegram. I don't know who they are, where they are, and what their motivations are.”

  “You never wondered?” asked Gideon.

  “Why? Why should I have worried. The work that we are doing, whether it is kept secret now or not, will eventually find its way to the general public. Huge advances in medical technology are right there, in my work! Wonderful, wonderful things. They were my gift to the future. Of course I didn't care who was paying me!” Cassidy paced back and forth slowly. “So you see?” insisted The Professor. “I have done nothing wrong. I was scared by the sight of my work in that hand because I didn't know what the situation was. I simply wanted to find out more. I would have probably come to you in a few days with this information anyhow, but instead you had to come in here and assault me.”

  “Don't be so charitable to your moral compass,” said Cassidy, making steely eye contact with The Professor.

  “What's that supposed to mean?” asked The Professor. “I told you everything. I have done nothing more than research work for a foreign government.”

  “Based on what you've told us, it does seem that way,” said Cassidy as she crossed her arms. “Which is why I don't believe you.”

  “Oh for God's sake! Leave me be, you she-demon!” he yelled as he walked around his desk and leaned onto it with his arms, his head pointing down to the surface. “I have told you everything.”

  “No you haven't. You're a smart man — a confident man. No one like you would have cowered in the face of a few questions if you are as innocent as you say you are.”

  “I am not involved with this!” bellowed The Professor, gesticulating with his hands fiercely gripping the air. “I have never done anything but help people! If this device was used to harm someone, then it is not mine!” The Professor pointed at Cassidy emphatically. “Do you have any idea how—“

  A quiet tink and crackle of a small amount of glass breaking preceded The Professor stopping his rant and shaking somewhat. With wide-eyed shock on his face, he reached around his back and felt for a moment. His eyes moved as he felt around. “Those... bastards...” The Professor whispered. “How could they do this to me? After... everything...” The Professor tried stepping out from behind his desk but his legs proved incapable of holding him up. He fell, bouncing off the edge of his desk and falling to the ground.

  “Professor!” Gideon yelled, running over to him.

  Cassidy looked up at the window, seeing a small hole where the glass had been broken. She ran over to the window and looked out, seeing a slim, pale man wearing round glasses perched on the top of the building across th
e street. They made eye contact before he disappeared behind the edge of the building's roof, briefly revealing the long rifle that he had just used.

  “Cassidy!” Joseph yelled, intoning it in such a way as to communicate that he both knew what Cassidy was about to do and that he disapproved.

  “See to The Professor!” Cassidy yelled back before opening the french doors and running out into the garden, past a small fountain, and leaping the small wrought iron fence that encircled it and into the street. The chase was on.

  7

  Cassidy ran full-tilt across the street, dodging carriages and pedestrians as she went. Stopping at the bottom of the building, five stories of bricks, facing the door, she looked up to the roof then ran a lap around the building, leaping over boxes in the tight alleys, to look for other entrances on the sides of the structure before returning to the front and going inside.

  Inside was a small foyer that ran to the left and right. In front of her were two doors on either side of a large hallway which went down the center of the building. At the end of the foyer to her right was a door with the word “stairwell” above it. She ran over to it, yanked on the door handle and slipped off, finding the door locked. She shook it violently. The sound of a door echoed from the hallway. Cassidy turned and stared. A well-dressed businessman walked out carrying a briefcase and looking at a pocket watch. Cassidy rushed over to him.

  “How do I get to the roof?!” Cassidy yelled.

  “AHH!” The man yelled. “Uh, uh what?!” he asked, startled and frightened.

  “The roof, the roof! How do I get to the roof?!”

  “Uhhh, um, I don't think you can. It's been closed off for months. Some water rotted out the stairs.”

  “Shit!” Cassidy yelled as she turned and ran out the door. Leaving, she looked left and right down the street, seeing nothing. She ran to the alleyway between the building and its neighbor, a corner building. Looking up, she saw a large board of wood acting as an impromptu bridge. “Son of a bitch,” she mumbled to herself. She ran around the corner to the entrance to the next building just in time to see the thin, pale, bespectacled man come walking calmly out of the building carrying a long leather-wrapped case. He looked to his left and his eyes met Cassidy's. She squinted her eyes gritty determination and let out an animal growl. The man's cheek twitched slightly just before he dropped the case on the ground and bolted in the opposite direction. Cassidy shot forward with such violence that it looked as though she was about to rip out of her clothing, letting out another primal growl as she sprang forward in pursuit of her prey.