Like Clockwork

by Bonnie Dee

  "I'm sorry. I can tel he was your friend as wel as a col eague."

  "More than that. Harvey was to me what Lizzie was to you--a mentor. I could confide in and depend on him. He gave me support when I dared to enter a world reserved for men. I loved Harvey." The admission came tumbling out, surprising her. The need to unburden herself to someone who shared a similar sorrow was too much to resist.

  Dash started to reach across the table as if to take her hand, then pul ed his hand back. "I'm very sorry for your loss. Do you believe the Commission had something to do with his death?"

  "It's possible. It seems odd that it happened on the very night he told me about this plot."

  Dash dipped his head and stared at the scarred table in front of him. "I should tel you my own bit of news. You remember the chap with the bad temper who was part of our committee? He's broken off and plans to fol ow his own plan to rid the world of automatons. I'd expect bombings and wouldn't put murder past him."

  Victoria was aghast. Her wild imaginings weren't so wild. Danger threatened from every direction.

  Dash stood. "I'l see you home now. I don't want you going alone.

  As for your butler, get that machine out of your house. Give it back to the Commission or sel it."

  "But I don't want to alert them to the fact I know what he's there for, especial y not after what happened to poor Harvey." Victoria thought for a moment as she looked across the tavern at a table ful of people clearly sodden although it was mid-afternoon. "I'l wait until the meeting on Tuesday and then return Patterson to the Commission as a token of my belief in supporting living workers."

  "We should go now." Dash didn't offer to pul out her chair yet somehow she found his lack of manners refreshing. He was anything but a proper gentleman and it was those very rough edges that intrigued her.

  Victoria wanted to stay longer and talk about so many other things with him, things of a personal nature, but he seemed determined to get her out of his life as soon as possible. What had happened to the man who couldn't take his eyes, or his hands, off her the other day?

  Dash maintained his distance as he led her from the pub. He paused in the doorway and scanned the street before going outside, then took her arm to lead her through the crowded street.

  "I don't see that detective but I don't want to take a chance on him spotting you with me."

  His concern for her gave Victoria a little thril of pleasure.

  Perhaps he wasn't being intentional y brusque, but merely protective of her good name. She must shake him of the delusion that it mattered to her.

  They descended the steps of the nearest underground station.

  Victoria paid at the turnstile and they waited on the platform for the next train. She watched Dash's chiseled profile as he stared down the track at the approaching locomotive and chose her next words careful y.

  "You know I've never fit into my world and I realize I could never fit into yours. But I'd like to see more of you, Dash. I enjoyed our time together in the park. Can't we remain friends and find some common ground in the middle?"

  "Not bloody likely," he muttered.

  "Why do you say that?"

  He glared down at her as the train screeched to a halt and he pul ed her onto the car. But he waited until they were seated to answer.

  "Do you know what I think about when I look at you? It's not hand-holding and chitchatting. I can't be your friend, Miss Waters. I want you too much. I wouldn't be content with a few stolen kisses for long, and what I want from you--" he scanned her body with a lascivious stare that made her blood sear her veins, "--you'l never give me."

  Victoria swal owed. Her entire body pulsed with energy. What he wanted, she wanted too--something raw and untamed and completely beyond her ken.

  "Don't be so certain, Mr. Dash," she replied cool y.

  He scowled out the window at the tunnel wal in his seat across from hers. Their knees occasional y bumped, and the trained clicked along for several stops before either of them spoke again. Then Victoria took the plunge.

  "You often talk of your position in life as if you were constrained to stay in it forever. If you want something better, why don't you reach for it? Whatever happened to your friend, Mr. Brownlow, the one who helped you out?"

  "He died," Dash said shortly, then added, "He'd told me he wanted to leave me the bookstore, but since he left no wil , his family took it. They sold everything and split the profits. I was back on the street with no job and no prospects."

  "So lack of money kept you from doing what you wished. If money were no object, what would that be? What would you like to do if the way was open to you to travel, study, own a business, or enter Parliament?"

  He shook his head and at first she thought he was going to deny the possibility of any of those things, but at last he answered. "I love books. I wish I could study. If I had my wish, I would go to university."

  "What field in particular interests you?"

  "Everything. But mostly literature. I should like to own a bookstore, or maybe teach. Can you see me as a professor of literature?" he scoffed.

  His face was more open than she'd yet seen it. This was his secret dream, although he pretended to mock himself, and she understood how much it meant for him to share the dream with her.

  "Why don't you work toward that? Such a future is not impossible, don't you see?"

  He snorted and shutters slammed closed on his hopeful eyes.

  "You are naive, Miss Waters. You have no inkling about what it is to be truly skint. You don't know what it is to come into the world with absolutely nothing, not even a name, and have to grab every scrap you can simply to survive from day to day. To climb the ladder out of that cesspool is nearly impossible. The rungs are slippery and people are always trying to push you off."

  "I do understand, Dash. But some people manage it with a strong effort of wil . If you can't make your way in London, why not leave here and try your luck somewhere else? Men become sailors or join the army. There's steady pay in either of those occupations."

  And now she'd gone a step too far. She could see it in his eyes.

  Good Lord, she'd as much as belittled him for not using his wil power. She tried to smooth the sharp edges off her words.

  "I'm sorry. You're right. I don't know what your life has been like.

  I've had everything given to me. I apologize for speaking out of turn."

  He shrugged and looked out the window at the black tunnel they were rushing through. "No matter." After that he remained silent for the rest of the ride.

  When they got off the train, Victoria stopped on the platform nearly at the spot where she'd been standing when he'd taken her. "You don't have to walk me home. I'l be fine."

  "I'l see you into your house." He didn't give her an opportunity to argue as he moved toward the stairs.

  Victoria nearly trotted to keep up with his long stride. She tried to think of anything to say to bridge the chasm yawning between them. His hand swung by his side. How she wished she could simply reach out and hold it.

  Dash stopped walking at the edge of the park within sight of her front door. "I'm sure you don't want your neighbors to see me walking you home. I'l watch from here until you get inside."

  "Very wel . Thank you for accompanying me."

  Victoria began to walk away, then suddenly spun around to face him. "Please, don't think I'm a complete fool. I do know there's a world of difference between us, but I'm wil ing to try to span our differences. We have more in common than you think and I would like to learn more about you, to share books with you and talk about them after, to become friends first and then see where that leads us."

  She drew a breath, her cheeks burning at her outburst. "I want to see more of you, Dash. Please, think about it and, if you decide you feel the same way, let me know."

  Before propriety could slow her momentum, Victoria rose up on her toes, slipped a hand around Dash's neck and pressed her lips to his. It was a mere peck, as chaste as one
might give an old auntie, but the touch of his mouth sent lightning crackling through her.

  Victoria turned and walked away feeling triumphant and buoyant.

  Let him stew on that.

  She didn't look back to check his reaction but did steal a glance to see if he was stil watching when she reached her front door.

  His dark-coated figure was like a large crow against the green of the park.

  Victoria went inside and sighed as she took off her hat. A flurry of emotions--excitement, fear, sorrow, joy, frustration and anxiety--

  swirled inside her like the contents of a shaken snow globe. She shook them off as she removed her coat and formed a plan. She would send Patterson on an errand and in his absence search his room for the missing file or any other clues about his true intentions.

  She cal ed his name, but for once the butler wasn't hovering just out of sight.

  Instead, Mrs. Rose bustled into the foyer. "I'm sorry, Miss Waters.

  I didn't hear you arrive home. Is there anything I may do for you?

  Are you ready for tea?"

  "Where's Patterson?"

  "He's off to run an errand, although what business a machine could possibly have I don't know."

  What indeed. Perhaps report to the Commission.

  "Thank you, Mrs. Rose. Please don't trouble yourself with the tea.

  Go back to whatever you were doing. Have the maids left for the day?"

  "As a matter of fact, they have, miss. But if there's something you need, I can do it."

  "No. Nothing. Thank you." Victoria dismissed her.

  The moment Mrs. Rose returned to the kitchen, or perhaps to her room just off it, Victoria headed for the butler's quarters also in the servants' area but nearer the front of the house.

  Her heart raced as she opened the unlocked door and stepped into his room. Victoria reminded herself that Patterson was not a person but a thing and as the owner of the machine she had every right to search his quarters if she wished. The fact that he didn't lock the door suggested there was nothing to find. But then he would consider it outside of protocol for the mistress of the house to venture into his room.

  Hastily, Victoria opened each dresser drawer and searched it thoroughly. Neatly folded clothing fil ed the drawers. There were no personal items since a machine had no need of a pipe and tobacco, a deck of cards, a book or any other kind of hobby. In their off time, automatons simply went into a hibernation mode, resting their circuitry.

  Victoria checked the bureau where several suits were hung. She lifted the mattress from the bed to look beneath, explored inside the pil owcase, and even searched the windowsil behind the drapes. She found nothing, not even dust beneath the bed.

  But kneeling beside the bed, Victoria noticed a floorboard shifting beneath her weight. She pressed on the board and it moved. She couldn't pry her fingernails into the thin crack along the edge of the board so she pushed and prodded along every inch of its length. Suddenly the board lifted slightly at one end.

  She'd hit the right spot.

  Victoria grabbed hold of the board and pul ed it up, revealing an open space beneath the flooring. Her pulse pounded even faster.

  No one had a secret compartment unless he had something to hide in it.

  But instead of the expected file folder containing her papers, she beheld a smal black satchel and the gold lids of several mason jars. She grasped one of the jars and lifted it up to see its contents.

  Ice water bathed her body and her heart froze. The glass jar contained cloudy liquid and floating in that liquid was a fist-sized lump.

  A human heart.

  For a moment, she simply stared at the thing, trying to bring the picture into focus and make sense of it. Then she glanced at the other three lids. She didn't need to pick up the jars to know what they contained.

  Four hearts. Four victims. One kil er. But what possible motive could an automaton have for kil ing random prostitutes? Had he gone completely berserk or had someone programmed a new directive into him?

  "Miss Waters, is there something I may do for you? It is not proper protocol for you to be in my room."

  She leaped to her feet, dropping the jar, which shattered on the floor. Glass flew, liquid spattered and the pickled heart slid across the floorboards, ending up by the toe of Patterson's wel -

  polished shoe. He stepped back like a finicky cat avoiding the mess of its bloody kil .

  Victoria opened her mouth to scream, although the only person who would hear and come running would be Mrs. Rose, but before she could, Patterson crossed the room and grabbed her.

  He pressed a cloth to her nose and mouth as she struggled against his unrelenting grip.

  When she inhaled, the medicinal smel of chloroform fil ed her senses. In the moment before darkness took her, she stared into his vacant dol -eyes.

  Patterson murmured, "I am sorry to have to do this, miss. It cannot be helped."

  Chapter Nine

  Dash didn't leave the park. He was in no hurry to get back home even though he wanted to track down Robeson and learn if the man had played any part in Samuels's death. But right now he needed a reprieve from that grimness. He needed a walk in the park.

  Most of the children and their nannies were gone this late in the afternoon, returned home for tea, fol owed by bath time, perhaps a story and then a tucking in by their parents. Dash could picture them in these fine houses, living their pleasant lives. How lucky to be born into such a world.

  Victoria's words about making the future he wanted had stung him. She had no idea what she was talking about. But Brownlow's voice began to whisper from beyond the grave.

  Didn't I tell you something similar, lad? Not once but many times. Your brain is far too fine to waste it on planning petty crimes, and your heart is too good for you to want to keep hurting people. Strive for something better.

  That's what he'd tried to do by becoming involved with the Brotherhood. He would speak for those who had no voice. That was as noble as anything he'd read in al those books Brownlow had recommended. And yet it stil seemed it wasn't enough to please his mentor, who continued to harass him after death, or to satisfy Miss Waters.

  What did he want for himself alone? Could he give up the thievery and cons that had been so much a part of his life and try to achieve something better?

  He walked to the carousel but it wasn't running today. He sat on the bench where the nursemaids and mothers usual y sat and stared at the colorful roundabout. Even when it wasn't spinning or blaring music, it was an impressive sight. The mirrors on the center column reflected the light and the animals and the brass poles. More mirrors on the perimeter of the roof reflected the dying sun.

  Dash spotted the horse he'd ridden on, and the gryphon beside it. Such a childish, sil y ride that had been, and yet those moments were more pleasurable than any in his whole life.

  Except for the moments when he'd kissed Victoria. Those were even more precious.

  He closed his eyes and felt the brush of her lips against his, saw her sky-blue eyes gazing at him with such chal enge. Dare to love me, they seemed to say.

  But could he? No matter what she said, he couldn't picture a future with both of them in it and he guessed that when their brief entanglement was over, he would be sorely wounded. A man couldn't have a woman as special as Victoria only to lose her. He didn't want to suffer that kind of pain. It was better not to become involved at al .

  Dash sat on the bench, his mind warring back and forth, until the last of the golden sunlight vanished from the carousel mirrors and they reflected the cool blue of early evening instead.

  Then at last, he came to a decision and rose to his feet to hurry from the twilit park.

  ***

  Victoria came to with a dul headache and the thought that she'd done something just like this not too many days ago. Being chloroformed was getting to be a dreadful habit.

  She was glad she could keep her sense of humor because it was the only thing keeping her pan
ic at bay when she realized she was stark naked and tied hand and foot.

  She waited before opening her eyes, taking stock of where she was and whether or not she was alone. Her body lay on a carpet-covered hardwood floor. The creaks and scent of the space around her were familiar. She'd not been taken from her own home. And someone was in the room with her. She could feel a presence even though he didn't clear his throat or even breathe.

  "You are awake, Miss Waters. That is good." Patterson's monotone was more frightening than shouting or sinister whispering would have been.

  Victoria stopped trying to pretend she was unconscious and opened her eyes.

  The butler stood over her, staring at her with no expression on his face. She lay in the drawing room. Her hands were tied to the legs of one heavy armchair and her feet to another, holding her body immobile in between. She shifted and tugged on the rope bonds but they did not give. Her mouth was fil ed by a cloth gag, the dryness making her salivate.

  "No doubt you have questions. I would like to remove your gag but you must promise not to scream. There is no one to hear you anyway, as Mrs. Rose is presently incapacitated."

  Her stomach lurched. Was Mrs. Rose dead or merely drugged?

  Did he plan to kil Victoria right here in her own house?

  "Promise you won't scream."

  She nodded.

  He removed the gag and Victoria swal owed. "Did the Commission tel you to spy on me?"

  "My protocols were to both serve you and to gather information about you to report to the Commission."

  "What about the kil ings? How do those fit into your directive?"

  "I was told to learn al I could about you. But as I watched and listened, I could not understand what made you work. The only way I could fol ow my protocol accurately was by disassembling you. But that conflicted with my other directive to serve you. It was an impossible choice."

  "You thought by cutting up other women you would 'learn al you could' about me?"

  "In part." He paused. "I must admit I began to wonder how al human beings work and why I don't work the same way."