“No fucking way. That would put me in charge.”
The hallway leading to Samuel’s office was empty, but the distinct sound of voices echoed loud. He picked up his pace, turned the corner to come face to face with Master Ryerson, Dennison, and General Collingworth. As he stepped into the room, a fourth man caught his attention. He was short of stature, and his face wore deep lines and a dark expression. Without being told, Samuel knew he was an Administrator.
He shouldn’t be here. The second Samuel stepped foot into the room, he knew this was wrong. The air was too cold, too still. As if the door was a gateway to another place, rather than a strange room in the Archives.
A soft beeping from a console drew his attention. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick look around. It’s not like anyone would know he was here.
Letting out a huff, Samuel bolted across the room directly for the console. A light flashed red, and he could tell there was something wrong. His instincts were rarely off when it came to the Archives machine. Finding the release, he opened a side panel, kneeling down to get a better look.
“Oh.” The lead had come free from the circuit, getting tangled and wrapped around the main gear. It took him only a few minutes to free the wire and reconnect it. The beeping immediately stopped. “Easy.”
Samuel jerked when the sound of someone clapping filled the room. “Well done. I don’t think I could have done that any faster.”
Getting to his feet, Samuel turned to face the man. He wasn’t much taller than Samuel was at fourteen, though what he lacked in size the man made up for in intensity. He wasn’t wearing the black suit of a Guild Master. The long black tunic and trousers were the clothing of an Administrator.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Shit, he shouldn’t be here. There was no excuse he could come up with that would be remotely believable.
“I’m not. You saved me from having to fix that.” The man closed the distance between them and laced his hands behind his back. “What is your name?”
“Samuel.”
“And why are you in my workspace, Samuel?”
“I heard a noise.”
The man cocked an eyebrow.
“I was exploring. I heard a beeping and thought I’d take a look. I’m good at fixing things.”
The man studied him and Samuel found it impossible to maintain eye contact. Finally the man stepped aside, clearing the path to the door. “I suggest you go back to where you come from.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Samuel? Thank you for fixing my problem.”
The Administrator acknowledged him with a single nod. Samuel returned it, but gave the other men only a cursory look before approaching the general. “Sir. I was called here because of a letter.”
“General, I want this man arrested and turned over to the custody of the Archivist Guild.” Ryerson stood so straight, Samuel swore he could hear the man’s bones creak.
“I’ve already told you, I shall do no such thing. While the archivists might have jurisdiction over a body while memories are being gathered, the King’s Sentry is still in charge of investigations. Law enforcement is not your business, sir, and neither are you a magistrate or gaoler, to speak of taking custody. Furthermore, Sergeant Hawkins has performed his duties to the best of his abilities. Correct, son?”
There was no mistaking the general’s tone—regardless of the truth, there was only one answer he wanted to hear from Sam.
“I have done everything in my power and within the limits of the law to solve the triple murders. It appears New London has a serial killer.”
“I don’t care about dead whores.” Ryerson’s nostrils flared. “You are responsible for the abduction of one of our archivists!”
The Administrator stepped forward, commanding everyone’s immediate attention. “Sergeant, this is a serious accusation. You of all people understand the importance of following archival procedure.”
Unlike when he was a boy, Samuel kept his gaze locked with the Administrator’s. “I merely assisted a witness to get to safety until such a time as she was able to make her statement.”
“Miss Smith was no witness.” Ryerson surged forward, crowding Samuel.
“No, but Annie was.” Samuel stepped back, shrugged off his coat and hung it up while he calmed himself. If he were to lose his temper now, he could forfeit the general’s support and give the Administrator reason to demand Piper’s return. “Miss Smith carried the active mind of a direct witness of her own death. I have now had an opportunity to interrogate the woman and she has been wiped from Miss Smith’s mind.”
Dennison stepped forward. “How did you do that? You didn’t take her back to the Archives?”
“No. She is recovering at another location.”
“Where?” Ryerson turned once more to the general when Samuel didn’t immediately answer. “Miss Smith belongs to us. He has no right to do this sort of thing to her. God only knows what barbaric means were used to do this. It should have been done two days ago, and only by those trained in the process.”
“Guild Master, please.” The Administrator held up his hand, silencing the other man. “Is this true, sergeant? Is Miss Smith’s life in danger from your actions?”
Even the idea of hurting Piper accidentally was enough to turn his stomach. “I can guarantee there was no barbarism involved. The procedure was performed by a trusted individual who is even now monitoring her recovery. And Miss Smith has not been made to do anything against her will. She volunteered her assistance.”
“She volunteered to go against protocol?” The man cocked an eyebrow. “Well, that is a different matter.” The Administrator turned to Master Ryerson. “I believe I am no longer required.”
“What?”
“I shall return to the Archives and allow these men to continue their investigation. My report will be filed before your return, Guild Master.” With a sharp bow, the Administrator left.
One mark in their favor.
Now impotent to stop them, Ryerson fell into the closest chair and could only glare.
A single long glass tube sat in the middle of Samuel’s desk. Walking past the others, he picked up the cylinder, letting the cool weight of its casing settle into his hands.
Dennison nodded toward the item. “I was in the middle of my own investigation when I heard of this. I wanted to see it for myself.”
The tube was not the standard normally sent through the pipes. Instead of the usual copper stopper filling the end, this one was comprised of cork and sealed with red wax. Samuel accepted the penknife from Timmons and peeled the wax free, letting it fall in a red coil to the desk.
The paper was yellowed, the edges worn and torn. It looked as if it had spent a great deal of time tucked away in a coat pocket, forgotten about over time. The red ink had bled into the fibers, and the hand that had penned the words was clumsy, making it difficult for Samuel to read. The opening was clear enough, however. It set his skin crawling.
Licking his lips in a vain attempt to moisten them, Samuel took a breath and began to read.
From Hell. Sergeant Hawkins. Sorry I could only send this letter. The tube was too small to send her kidney. I think I shall eat it instead. The bloody knife I used to take it out might fit. I might send it to you if you wait a little longer. Catch me when you can, Sammy-boy.
He dropped the letter to the desk and fought to keep his stomach contents where they belonged. Dennison picked it up, scanning it quickly before handing it carefully over to Ryerson. “He’s going to kill again.”
“I’m certain.” Jack now knew about Piper. Samuel had no doubt she was on his targeted list. “We need to lay a trap. Did you learn anything?”
Dennison looked quickly over at Timmons and the general, then to Ryerson again. “I’m not sure this is the most appropriate—”
Rage drove Samuel forward, and he shoved Dennison against the wall. Ignoring the shouts from the others, he pressed his nose so close to Dennison’s that he could have rubbed the ends togeth
er.
“I don’t care any longer about the Archives or your games. We have a killer who is targeting women. He’s seen me, and he’s seen… He could be working for the French or against the Archives, or simply be a madman, but none of that matters unless we catch him. Either way we need every scrap of information we have to find this bastard and put a stop to him. So if you know anything, Emmet, you tell me right now!”
Dennison chuckled and didn’t stop even when Samuel thumped his head against the wall. “She won’t remember you or what you’ve done in the past few days, will she?”
“This isn’t about Piper.”
“No?” Extracting himself from Samuel’s grasp, Dennison straightened his shirt and righted his jacket. “I find that hard to believe. To answer your question, yes, I learned something about our friend Doctor Constantine.”
“Out with it, boy.” General Collingworth plopped his mass into the chair beside Ryerson and peeled his gloves off a finger at a time. “I’m scheduled to have lunch with the Earl of Luff. If I need to cancel then I’d at least like to give the man a respectful amount of notice.”
“Doctor Constantine has been working as a consulting doctor for the Archives for the past decade,” Dennison explained to the general. “When he is not assisting the guild, he has his own practice, a private hospital on the outskirts of the Dover ruins.”
Dover had been the first town attacked in the first Great War against the combined forces of the French and Spanish. Buildings had been leveled by the giant spiderlike walkers the French soldiers dropped from airships onto the unsuspecting populace. Little remained of the once-thriving port after the enemy had been driven back. The few survivors had fled to New London, refusing to risk living so close to the channel and the continued threat of possible attack.
“You found a connection between the doctor and the prostitutes?”
“There were rumors of the good doctor making not-so-subtle offers to prostitutes in Whitechapel. Seems he bought the services of five women for several days.”
This could be it, what they’d been looking for. “Where did he take them?”
“I’m not certain, but the fact I was unable to locate Constantine anywhere in New London would suggest that he’s gone to his facility.” Dennison’s grin had his eyes sparkling with dark mischief, a look Samuel had seen many times when they were boys. “It would be a private enough place to entertain his men. A good location for a cult, even. What do you say, sergeant? Are you up for a trip to the coast?”
Samuel turned to face the general, but the older man held up his hand. “I’m not giving you one of my airships, so don’t even ask.”
“Of course not, general. An airship might draw unwanted attention. I was thinking something a bit more subtle.”
“What might that be? While I want to see this killer caught, I won’t explain to His Majesty how precious resources were wasted to catch a killer who targeted whores.”
No wonder Annie hadn’t trusted them. She’d been faced every day with this type of behavior from the society who used her services, only to throw her aside when they were done. “No, sir. I believe the Driller is available.”
Dennison frowned. “What the hell is that?”
“A special train.”
“How is a train any less subtle than an airship?”
“This one is underground.” Ryerson and Dennison shared a look of disbelief, but Samuel kept his attention on the general. “It would keep things quiet, we can expand the tunnel network toward the coast, and no one would observe our departure from New London. We’ll disappear for a few days, and anyone watching will suspect we have simply holed up at the Tower.”
General Collingworth slapped his thigh and hauled his heavy frame to a standing position. “Very well, I’ll give you the Driller. You have today and tomorrow to find your doctor and report back.”
“Thank you, general.”
“Sergeant, make sure that tunnel gets as close to the cliffs as possible. You never know when we will need to be ready for another attack.”
“Then if you are going off in search of this Doctor Constantine,” Ryerson demanded, lacing his hands behind his back, “please ensure Miss Smith is returned to the Archives before your departure.”
“No.” Even if it cost him his position with the King’s Sentry, Samuel wouldn’t willingly deliver Piper back to that hell. When the time came, if she chose to return, he wouldn’t stand in her way. But until then he’d do everything in his power to keep her safe and free from the Archives. “Dennison, are you accompanying us as a representative of the Archivist Guild?”
“He shall do no such thing.” Ryerson’s face was growing red, a stark contrast to the pure whites of his ghostly eyes. “Mr. Dennison is an archivist, not a Guild Master. He has no right to represent us.”
“Actually, sir, I have every right.” Dennison withdrew a message tube from his coat. “Orders directly from His Majesty himself and verified by Guild Master June. It seems he’s concerned about public perceptions and the deaths of the less fortunate. He wants to show the residents of New London that he cares about the well-being of all her people. I am to work with the Sentry and provide them with any assistance they require.”
It was Samuel’s turn to smugly grin, knowing Ryerson would be powerless to countermand the directives of the king.
“He’s got you there, man.” The general tugged on his shirtsleeves. “Check in, Hawkins, when you get back.” And he waddled out of the office.
“Don’t you dare think this is over, boy.” Ryerson shoved a finger in Samuel’s face. “You think you’re so clever keeping Miss Smith from me while you run around playing detective. You don’t have a clue what you are dealing with.”
“I’m conducting a murder investigation, not playing a game. If these killings are somehow linked to Constantine and the Archives, you better be damn well certain that I will follow the investigation where it leads.” Pushing past his onetime mentor, Samuel took the message and the tube with him. “Dennison, come with us. We need to get ready for our departure. I trust you can see yourself out, Ryerson.”
Timmons and Dennison fell into step behind Samuel, leaving Ryerson behind spluttering in his office. He marched down the hall and into the dressing room where all members of the Guard could prepare for any mission.
“We can suit up here.” Samuel rummaged through one of the storage boxes and pulled out a leather cap with flaps. Tossing it to Dennison, he began to search for the other bits they’d need. “Timmons, mind checking in with David? I’d like an update before we go anywhere.”
“I’ll send a message through the tubes. Give me a minute.”
Dennison waited until Timmons left. “He’s going to check on Piper, isn’t he?”
“Not your concern, Emmet.”
“Of course she’s my concern. This is no different than us getting her out of the Archives. Where the hell is she?”
Samuel grabbed a heavy leather coat and boots, tossing them Dennison’s way. “She’s safe. Her mind has been scrubbed and she won’t remember any of our time alone together. Happy?”
“Of course I’m not happy.”
“I was under the impression you wanted her for yourself.” Dennison had always been attracted to Piper. With her memories gone, Samuel would be little more than the man who’d run from her, leaving her to wake up disoriented, among strangers. Depending on how far back David had blanked her mind, he might be even less than that. Dennison would be able to side-step Samuel and reclaim Piper’s interest.
“You were always a blind fool.” Dennison pulled on the leathers and replaced his shoes with the knee-high boots. “It never mattered what I tried, she was content to be on her own. She’d rather that than settle.”
“Settle for what?”
“Anyone who wasn’t you.” The flash of hurt across Dennison’s face was fleeting, but the emotion lingered. “The money, influence, my standing and future with the Guild—none of that mattered. I wasn’t Sam and c
ould never take your place.”
“She said that?”
Dennison ignored him and turned his attention to the boots. “Why is all of this necessary? Is there no protection on this train of yours?”
“You’ll see.” The fact of the matter was that Samuel had been on the Driller only thrice in all his time with the King’s Sentry, and he hardly relished going on it again. He wasn’t showing that weakness to Dennison, nor did he feel kind enough to forewarn the man what to expect.
His first trip on the contraption had damn near scared the wits out of him. Samuel had only been on the Sentry a few weeks when he’d been assigned to spend a week on the train. He’d thought it was punishment or an initiation into the Sentry. It was, to a degree, but in those seven days Samuel learned more about the secrets hiding under New London than most of the citizenry would gather in a lifetime.
They prepared in silence, Dennison following Samuel’s lead as they filled a bag with everything Samuel thought they might need. Every second that Timmons didn’t return wound Samuel’s internal springs tighter. He was so keyed up that when Timmons finally marched down the stairs into the room, he’d forgotten about needing to keep the truth from Dennison.
“Is she well?”
The muscle in the side of Timmons’ jaw jumped. “She’s awake.”
“What does she remember?” She wouldn’t remember anything of what they were slowly becoming, but perhaps there was a chance that a glimmer remained behind, something he could work with.
“Well, you’ll be able to ask her yourself. She’s on her way here now.”
Chapter Nineteen
Pain lanced through Piper’s skull with the blunt force of a pipe hitting an apple. The jostling of the steam carriage did nothing to help matters, serving only to increase her nausea and irritation.
There was a hole in her mind.
This wasn’t the same as what she’d felt after her first extraction. Then she could practically feel the edges, a distinct line between the things she knew and things that no longer existed in her memories. This time, when she awoke in a house she’d never seen before, faced with two people she’d never met, the distinction between remembered and forgotten was blurred. The hole hadn’t grown wider, but deeper. More raw. Information hadn’t been erased but shoved into that abyss, inaccessible but still somehow, disturbingly, there. Like a word stuck on the tip of one’s tongue, stubbornly refusing to come forth.
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