by C. J. Archer
"Come, now, Mrs. Randley. We know you know about it. You were an excellent assistant to Dr. Millroy. His right hand, I believe."
"I was very good at my job."
"Then you'll know what happened that night with the vagrant," he said.
"I wasn't there."
"Nevertheless, Dr. Millroy probably spoke to you about it."
Her shifting gaze told me Matt was right. Under the pressure only a charged silence can bring, she sighed and her spine lost some of its stiffness. "I suppose it may be important. The thing is, Mr. Glass, Dr. Millroy didn't conduct the experiment alone. Did Mrs. Millroy tell you that?"
"She did," Matt said.
"A man named Chronos helped him."
"That's an odd name."
"I suspect it's a false one. I also suspect he forced Dr. Millroy to try his new treatment before it was ready."
"You don't know that," I said tightly. "You said yourself you weren't there."
"He can't have been up to good if he felt compelled to use a false name." She pushed her glasses up her nose again and settled her gaze on me. "He disappeared from the scene entirely as soon as the vagrant died, too. Coward. He left Dr. Millroy to face the Suregeon's Guild alone."
"You think Chronos was another doctor?" I asked cautiously.
"What else would he be?"
"Quite."
"Tell us about the experiment," Matt pressed. "How did Dr. Millroy feel about it?"
"He regretted his actions, so he told me the next day. He was in an awfully agitated state, worrying about his wife finding out about his mistress and telling the guild all sorts of things." The memory of it agitated her now. Her fingers alternately worried her cuff or flattened against her stomach, as if warding off a wave of nausea. "As it turns out, his fears were justified. If not for Mrs. Millroy, the vagrant's death would have gone unnoticed and the guild would have left him alone. But she told them and they questioned him mercilessly over it. I could hear them through his office door. They threatened to see him hang for murder! It was awful."
"What about the victim, Mr. Wilson?" Matt asked. "Mrs. Millroy thought he had a family but suspects they died and he lost his way. Does that fit with how Dr. Millroy described him to you?"
"The doctor did allude to that, yes," she said carefully. "But that name…it's not quite right but I can't put my finger on the reason why."
"He wasn't named Wilson?"
She frowned. "It was so long ago. I can't remember now, but it has an odd ring to it. Does that make sense?"
"Yes," Matt said before I could tell her no.
"I believe he wasn't a vagrant either, in the strict sense of the word," she said.
"He had a home?"
Her frown deepened. "Again, I can't remember what Dr. Millroy told me precisely, but the man apparently rambled on about having a home he could not return to. We thought it was because his family had died there and he was unwilling to face it after their deaths. I suppose that makes him homeless after all, doesn't it? It did trouble Dr. Millroy the next day. So much so that he regretted his haste in performing the experiment without learning more. I blame that Chronos fellow for rushing him."
"According to Mrs. Millroy," I said, "Mr. Wilson wanted them to perform the experiment on him. He was eager to be cured."
"That's all well and good, except he wasn't cured."
It was impossible to argue with that.
"Apparently the fellow slept some nights in a doss house," Mrs. Randley went on. "Did Mrs. Millroy tell you that? Dr. Millroy said the man mentioned retrieving his things from the Bethnal Green doss house."
Bethnal Green! I very much wanted to look at Matt but kept my gaze fixed firmly forward.
Mrs. Randley sighed heavily. "The whole thing is upsetting. I wish Dr. Millroy had never met Chronos. And now, to think, his murder may have been linked to the experiment."
"We don't know that for certain," Matt said quickly. "It's simply another line of inquiry."
"We're far more interested in Lady Buckland," I told her.
Matt's gaze slid sideways to me, and I got the feeling I'd said too much.
"And Mrs. Millroy too, of course," I added. "She has quite the motive for murdering her husband."
"She certainly does, and she has the cold-heartedness that a murderer requires too," Mrs. Randley said. "But I don't think it was her. For one thing, her husband was a good provider, and killing him would cause her financial difficulty. For another, I don't think she cared enough about him to kill him. I think she was glad that he found himself a mistress. She rather liked playing the poor wife overlooked by her dishonest husband. She never made a secret of it. If you ask me," Mrs. Randley went on, "Chronos killed Dr. Millroy."
"Why do you say that?" I snipped.
"To keep Dr. Millroy quiet so he wouldn't get into trouble with the guild too."
"That's—"
"One last question," Matt cut in. "Do you know anything about a diary Dr. Millroy kept?"
She smiled. "His little book of magic, he called it."
I sucked in air between my teeth. She knew about magic?
"Pardon?" Matt said.
"It's just a silly name for the notebook. He was often jotting things down in it or looking through it, but I never saw its contents. It contained information pertaining to his medical experiments, I believe."
"Do you know what happened to it after his death?"
"I assume it was on his person, like always. So unless his killer took it, the police would have given it to Mrs. Millroy. Why?"
Matt smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. Randley. You've been most helpful."
Outside, Matt assisted me into the coach waiting by the curb, our new coachman on the driver's seat.
"The nerve of her," I said, throwing myself onto the seat. "Blaming Chronos for coercing Dr. Millroy when she has no evidence that he did."
"It's a logical conclusion," he said. At my glare, he cleared his throat. "Of course we know Chronos didn't kill Millroy."
I had cooled down by the time we reached Mayfair and was able to see it from Mrs. Randley's point of view. "It's a little hard to think of my own grandfather being a cold-hearted killer," I said quietly. It was rather overwhelming to think I had a killer's blood flowing through my veins alongside the magic. He may not be guilty of Dr. Millroy's death but he was responsible for Mr. Wilson's, at least in part.
Matt leaned forward and took my hand. "India," he said smoothly. "Chronos believed he was doing the right thing. He's not cold-hearted or a killer. He wanted the vagrant to live, not die. You could say he wanted it badly enough that he overlooked things that should have mattered, like the fact Mr. Wilson may not have been homeless or without a family."
I closed my fingers around his. "Thank you, Matt, but don't defend Chronos too much. I'm not convinced he deserves it." I wanted Matt to know how I felt. It seemed important he not think I blindly trusted my grandfather simply because he was my kin. "I won't be taken in, this time. I've fallen victim to men who've tried to pull the wool over my eyes lately, and I no longer want to be that victim. In Chronos's case, I'll weigh up the evidence and make a decision based on what my head tells me, not my heart."
He stared down at our hands for a long time before letting go and sitting back. "You make it sound so simple."
We both knew it was not.
Matt suddenly sat forward again; something through the window caught his attention. "Damn it. What's he doing here?"
"Who?" I nudged him aside and saw Mr. Abercrombie standing alongside his conveyance parked near the steps to number sixteen.
He was not alone. Another man climbed out of the coach. He pushed his hat brim up and followed Abercrombie's gaze toward the front door. Then he turned at the sound of our arrival.
I gasped. "Eddie! What the bloody hell does he want now?"
Chapter 14
"What do you want?" Matt asked Abercrombie on the steps to his house. The front door stood open, and Peter waited to greet us. But Matt was
in no mood to invite our visitors in.
Abercrombie's moustache twitched with the pursing of his lips. "Good afternoon, Mr. Glass, Miss Steele. I hoped we could have a civil conversation in private." He glanced at the window of the neighboring house. The curtain fluttered and the elderly man who'd been watching us retreated from view.
"Say your piece out here," Matt snapped. "Then leave."
"I say!" Eddie thrust out his chest and chin. He reminded me of a rooster strutting around his territory. "We only want to talk. Your uncivil manner may be how Americans are with one another, but you're in England now."
"Just get on with it, Eddie," I said before Matt's temper frayed altogether.
"But it's growing dark," Eddie said, as if I were a fool for not noticing. "The lamplighter will come by soon."
"Then you'd best talk quickly if you want privacy." Matt took a step toward him and Eddie shuffled backward. He kept a wary eye on Matt. "Is this about Barratt's article? Because we had nothing to do with it, and I'm not going to discuss it with you. Is that clear?"
"It's not about that." Abercrombie rocked back on his heels, pleased with himself. "Our rebuttal will come soon enough."
"Then get to the point."
"We have reason to suspect you're harboring a criminal."
My heart ground to a halt. Beside me, Matt had gone utterly still. "Pardon?" he said icily.
"We have reason to suspect a man known as Chronos is living here."
How the devil did he know? From Dr. Ritter? If not him then who? Was it the same person who'd attacked Chronos? "That's an odd name," I said, trying hard to look unconcerned.
Abercrombie glanced at Peter who hadn't moved from the doorway. "His real name is Gideon Steele."
I gasped so loudly that even Peter reacted. Perhaps I overplayed it a little. "Your information is incorrect, sir. My grandfather is dead."
"Is he?" he asked idly. "Everyone was told he died, yes, but there's no proof, no record of his death."
It seemed he'd investigated and knew more than we suspected. "I assure you, he's dead. Perhaps the records have been lost. Don't you think I would know if he were alive? Don't you think he would have come to my father's funeral or tried to make contact with me? I can assure you, he has not sought me out." That, at least, was not a lie.
"He wasn't much of a family man, as I recall."
"Come now, India," Eddie soothed. "Admit that he's here. We know he is."
I pressed my hands to my hips. "I'll admit no such thing since it's not true!"
"Why are you making such absurd accusations?" Matt asked. "Why do you think he's alive and here after all this time?"
"He has been sighted," Abercrombie said.
"Sighted where and by whom?"
"I'm not at liberty to divulge that information."
I placed a hand on Matt's arm. The muscle was taut with coiled tension. "Your source is mistaken," I told Abercrombie. "If my grandfather is alive, which I doubt, he is not here."
"You would say that," Eddie said with a smile that was as ugly as his heart. "You're his bloody granddaughter."
"Go away," Matt growled, steering me to the steps.
"You know he was involved in a murder before his apparent death," Eddie said softly, as if he knew his words alone were explosive enough.
"You have a nerve accusing my grandfather of such a thing," I said as levelly as possible.
"Stop pretending, India. I am not a fool. You've been investigating the death of Dr. Millroy and that will naturally lead to his association with Gideon Steele. How far along is your investigation, anyway? Perhaps if we share information, we can both achieve our aims. You find out who killed Dr. Millroy, and we get our hands on your grandfather."
"You're mad," I said. The nerve of him to think we'd tell him anything!
Eddie opened his mouth to speak, but Abercrombie put up his hand. Eddie snapped his mouth shut but he didn't look happy to be silenced.
"Who is accusing India's grandfather of murder?" Matt asked.
"That is none of your concern," Abercrombie said.
"It is if someone is making up accusations. It is when you come here and upset India like this."
Abercrombie gave me an oily smile. "She doesn't look terribly upset."
Matt grabbed Abercrombie's jacket front, twisting his fist into it. Something inside the pocket cracked.
"My pince nez!" Abercrombie cried. "You broke it."
"That's not all I'll break if you don't get away from here this instant." Matt pushed Abercrombie away.
He stumbled but the railing stopped him from tumbling into the stairwell leading down to the service area. He straightened his tie and tugged on his jacket, all the while glaring at Matt.
Matt took my hand and placed it on his elbow. He escorted me upstairs and inside. I heard Abercrombie's coach roll away before Peter closed the front door.
"Tea for Miss Steele, please," Matt ordered Bristow as Peter took our hats and coats.
"Not tea," I said. "I need something stronger. It's been an eventful day."
"I'll bring sherry," Bristow said.
Matt led me to the library and directed me to sit.
"I'm all right," I told him before he could ask. "We need to warn Chronos and the others."
He stood by the unlit fireplace and stared into the grate. "The question is, how did they find out Chronos is your grandfather and that he is staying here? Did they attack him?"
"If not them, they are probably communicating with the party who orchestrated the attack," I said. "The chances of Chronos being seen by two separate people who knew him back then and recognized him now are slim."
"Dr. Ritter?" he said with a shrug.
"Should we confront him about it?"
"He'll deny it."
"Follow him then?" I suggested. "If he comes here and watches this house, hoping to catch Chronos coming and going, we'll know for certain."
"I'll send Cyclops and Duke out."
"Not Willie?"
"I don't even know where she is."
Bristow entered carrying a tray with two glasses. Matt plucked them off and handed one to me. "Is Willie here?" he asked the butler.
"Yes, sir."
"Ask her, Duke and Cyclops to join us."
Matt sat in the armchair, looking relaxed after the ferocious display outside. He even managed a small smile for me, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by the tiredness in his eyes. "Are you sure you're all right?" he said.
"Of course. Neither man upsets me now, particularly when you're present. A lot of the wind seems to have gone out of their sails in recent weeks, anyway. Now that I am aware of what Abercrombie knows about me, and he is aware that I know, it's as if he has no more hold over me."
"His power was knowing your secret, even before you knew it yourself, and the potential to use that secret to hurt you. Ever since you gave up on obtaining guild membership, his power receded."
I didn't dare raise the idea that the secret also had less effect now that the entire world was discussing magic and magicians thanks to Oscar Barratt's article. It lessened the unspoken threats of exposure that Abercrombie directed my way. But Matt wouldn't want to hear it.
"What I want to know is," Matt said, "why was Hardacre with him?"
It was a good question and not one I'd considered. Abercrombie treated Eddie as if he were an irritation he had to endure rather than an equal. He'd occasionally made himself useful, chiefly when it came to telling Abercrombie about my magic, something Eddie had learned from my father. I could think of only one reason Abercrombie would allow Eddie to join him in confronting me. "Perhaps the information about Chronos came from him and as a condition of passing on the information, Eddie demanded he be here when Abercrombie confronted me."
"Precisely. But why does Hardacre care?"
"To see me hurt? To see the effect his accusation has on me so he can rub my nose in it?" Even as I said it, I knew it didn't ring true. Eddie didn't care enough about me to want to h
urt me. That had never been his aim. "Because if my grandfather is alive," I said, warming to my theory, "then my shop—his shop—actually still belongs to my grandfather. It was not my father's to give away in his will. And with Chronos still alive, the shop becomes mine upon his death."
Matt lifted his glass in salute. "I think so too."
Willie barged in, Duke and Cyclops on her heels. "Drinks before dinner again? This is becoming quite the habit. What will Miss Glass say?"
"I see your frequent outings have not blunted your tongue, Willie," Matt said with a smirk.
"More's the pity," Duke muttered. "She went back to the hospital."
"I learned something too," she said, throwing herself into a chair with such force it slid backward. "Dr. Ritter had a visit from Abercrombie."
"Did Ritter summon him or did Abercrombie go of his own accord?" Duke asked.
She threw her hands in the air. "Well I don't know, do I?"
"Then it ain't all that useful, is it?"
"Thank you anyway," Matt said, rubbing his jaw in thought. "It's intriguing news."
She beamed at Duke. His face darkened even further. It was as if the happier Willie became, the less happy it made Duke.
"Who told you?" Cyclops asked with a wicked smile. "Your new doctor friend?"
She stretched out her legs and crossed them at the ankles. "It ain't your business who told me." Now she looked unhappy too, but Duke's mood did not improve. It was a dangerous path to navigate around those two and I gave my head a small shake to silence Cyclops.
He sighed. "There ain't no fun to be had here no more."
Bristow entered with three glasses and the mail that he handed to Matt.
Matt opened the top letter. "It's an invitation to Patience's wedding."
"Are we invited?" Willie asked, trying to peer at the invitation without getting out of her chair.
"Just myself and Aunt Letitia."
"What do you care?" Duke asked her. "You hate weddings on account of you're supposed to wear a dress."
"That's not the only reason I hate weddings," Willie shot back. "But I want to see Rycroft, Matt's estate."
