London Calling
Page 31
There were stacks of newspapers in one corner. Above it were shelves of glass jars containing canned food and what appeared to be dried meat and candies.
She led him into the main part of the laboratory. Tables lined both of the longer walls and held an assortment of parts and tools. Some parts had been assembled into things he couldn’t quite identify. The center of the room had been filled with sturdier worktables and metal racks.
Lamps were scattered throughout. Some affixed to walls, others on tables. At the far end of the building a metal staircase had been attached to one wall and led to metal catwalks that crossed over the main floor in the shape of an H. A few chains hung limply from the catwalk as if waiting to provide support for some new invention.
“Where does Peter do most of his work?”
“Over here.” She led him to a desk along the larger wall.
The desk had stacks of documents in one corner. An ink well sat nearby along with a couple of well-used pens and pencils. Nathaniel flipped through the documents but nothing caught his eye. In actuality, it seemed to be a batch of unrelated papers. “Did your brother keep a journal?”
“Of course.”
“Do you know where he keeps it?”
“I should think it would be here.” She approached the desk. “Or possibly at home.” Her voice lacked conviction.
He strolled through the rows of tables and tried to imagine what Peter might have been doing the night he disappeared. The things further back had a thin layer of dust. It made sense that his current project, or projects, would be located closer to the front entrance.
“Anything stand out to you?” she asked.
“Nothing conclusive.” He frowned as he scanned the space again. “Nothing appears out of place. Nothing is broken or thrown about as if struggle occurred. But in truth, the area feels… staged.”
“Staged? In what way?”
“Almost too neat and orderly. Yet, nothing appears to be in progress.” He gestured toward the back. “Except for the things back there that haven’t been touched in some time.”
She frowned and moved closer to the main worktable. She looked from there to the side tables then to the desk she said her bother used.
“Unless your brother is only interested in academic theories and research, then I believe he and whatever he has been working on are missing.”
“Let me check one other thing,” she murmured. She pulled her key fob from her pocket and hurried to a chest next to the wall. She started to unlock the chest but stopped. “Someone has broken the lock.”
Nathaniel joined her at the chest. “You’re right.”
She pulled the broken lock off and opened the chest. With a groan she said. “They’re gone.”
“What are?”
“Peter’s old journals.”
“You mean notebooks he’d filled or used up?”
“Yes. They’re gone. So are Father’s.”
“I thought you said you hadn’t been able to retrieve your father’s journal?”
“We haven’t yet. His current journal is what we hoped to find at the RIO.” The lid slammed shut when she released it. “Father kept his old journals here. Peter too.”
“Ah.”
“This just gets more and more cloudy,” she murmured.
“Not really.” He helped her stand. “I see it as one more piece in a large puzzle. Soon we’ll be able to see the whole picture.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.” He winked at her.
Their gazes met. That old connection he’d always felt whenever he’d been with Trixie drew him closer. The temptation of being alone with her was more than he could bear any longer. He took her hand and pulled her toward him.
She didn’t resist.
Ever so slowly he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Gently. Teasing. He only wanted a sampling. To see if she still tasted the way he remembered.
Her lips parted on a gasp then her hands came to rest on his chest. Instead of pushing him away as she probably should, she sagged against him. He wrapped his arm around her back and deepened the kiss.
A hint of chocolate lingered on her lips. Whatever flowery soap she used permeated his senses and made him want to get lost in her. But this was not the time for that. Nor was it the place.
He eased away from their kiss but was pleased to see a dazed, almost drunkenness in her eyes when she finally opened them. “We should…” He cleared his throat. “We should probably get back to the office.”
She blinked. “I, uh… yes.” She glanced at his chest, where her hands were splayed out. “That would probably be best.” Yet, she didn’t step away.
Not that he was in hurry to release her.
“Someone might come looking for you,” he softly reminded her.
She drew herself upright. “Yes. Of course.” She took a step back, then turned away.
He reached for her hand before she could fully withdraw. “We will finish this another time,” he promised.
She gave him a jerky nod.
He gathered his cane from where he had left it on one of the tables then led the way to the door. He held it open so she could pass through then waited while she locked it.
“Perhaps luncheon is in order?” she asked.
“Yes. I find I am rather famished.” He gave her a wink then offered his arm.
6
They enjoyed a late lunch at a place she frequented before returning to the Panhurst offices. She consulted with Mrs. Anderson on a couple of business items, then led him up to her office again.
“You said you kept the files you found at the other RIO offices, correct?” Nathaniel asked.
“That’s right.”
“I don’t supposed you have them here, do you?”
“As a matter of fact I do.”
“I should very much like to read what you found. Perhaps I could do that while you read these?” He gestured to the files he had brought with him. “Since I cannot permit you to keep these.”
“Why can I not keep them?”
Her incredulousness made him grin. “Because we have a process. I had to check these out in my name. If they are discovered missing, I will be the first person the records keeper would contact.”
“Very well.” She shot another look of irritation his way before going to the file cabinet in the corner. Using a key dangling from the fob hidden in her skirt pocket, she unlocked the cabinet and pulled out a lockbox at the back of one of the drawers. With a different one, she unlocked the box and removed a small stack of documents.
He marveled at the number of keys she carried.
“This is everything I found.” She pushed the stack across the desk to him.
“That’s not very much.”
“Believe me, I know.” Regret tinged her voice. “Oh,” she said when she reached down to close the drawer. “What is this doing in here?” She took a notebook out.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I think it’s one of Peter’s journals.” She opened the front cover. “It is.” She glanced down into the open drawer. “But why would he have put it in here?”
“Do you usually keep that drawer locked?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know that?”
“Of course. It’s where I keep the Panhurst account books. He is only other person with a key.”
“Perhaps he wanted to make sure that journal was kept some place safe.”
“He has locking cabinets in the lab. Why wouldn’t he use his own?”
That was a good question but he didn’t like the any of the answers he came up with. “We just saw that one of his storage lockers had been tampered with. Perhaps he knew there was some danger of his things being taken.”
“He never mentioned anything.”
Fear for Trixie’s safety inched higher. “It’s possible he didn’t want to put you at risk by telling you.”
“Maybe so.” Her voice trailed off.
“May I
?” Nathaniel pointed to the journal.
“I suppose.” She handed the book to him.
He thumbed through the pages. The dates were recent and the entries looked like what you would expect for daily journaling. Trixie stared off into space for a few minutes before turning her attention to the files he had brought her. He wished he had words he could offer her for comfort, but nothing short of answers to Peter’s whereabouts would help.
He pulled his seat closer to the corner of the desk so he could sift through the papers. As they worked, he found it much harder to concentrate in her office than his own. Between watching the different expressions crossing her face as she read the information and the interruptions from various port personnel, including a small fire out in the rubbish pile, he had only made it through half the stack. Normally he could have read a half dozen complete reports and case folders by then.
The interruptions didn’t bother Trixie. She answered questions without losing her place or her temper. And she still managed to question him about details she found in the files that he might have missed had she not brought it up.
When he finished reviewing the information she had collected, he began reading Peter’s journal. Instead of private thoughts, the pages held recounts of discussions with people he knew, new ideas, or results of experiments.
As they worked, the sun began to set and the dockworkers left for home. The port and the offices below them lapsed into a hollow quietness.
They worked together in a comfortable silence where only the occasional ruffle of paper or the squeak of a chair could be heard. In the back of his mind he wondered why she had never married.
Originally, he assumed it had been because of her parents’ disappearance. But now that he had seen just how deeply she was involved in the family business, he wondered if there were more to the story. She was well above the age of majority. Some of the matrons of the ton would even consider her “on the shelf.”
Weren’t all young women in a rush to marry? In his experience, family encouraged a dash to the altar. With a suitable man, that is. Perhaps he should ask her why she remained unattached.
A creak of wood on the stairs outside the office drew his attention.
Trixie raised her head from where she had been reading. He gestured toward the sound to silently ask if she knew who might be coming upstairs.
She shook her head in answer.
Nathaniel gestured for her to duck out of sight next to one of the cabinets. Then he swiveled out his chair and pressed himself against the wall in the shadows so he could assess whether the person on the other side of the door was a threat. As he moved into place he pulled his pistol from his pocket. He hated that Trixie could potentially be spotted right away by whoever came in, but he needed to know what threats she might have hanging over her. If Peter had indeed been abducted against his will, it was possible she could be in danger too.
The handle of the office door rattled then the door slowly opened inward. A boy’s head poked through the opening and swiveled in each direction. Curious what the boy wanted, Nathaniel remained hidden.
The boy crept to the desk and riffled through the documents on the desk. As soon as he reached for the Peter’s journal Nathaniel slammed the door closed. “You looking for something?”
The boy jumped. “No, sir. I, uh…” His eyes darted around the room.
Trixie came out of her hiding place. “What are you doing in here?”
“I believe this young man was attempting to relieve you of a personal item or two.” Nathaniel stepped closer to the boy while blocking his exit.
“I was not!” The boy glanced from him to Trixie and back. “I was just hoping to find a few sweets.” His face lightened as if an idea had just occurred to him. “To take to me mum and sister. I didn’t mean no harm.”
“How did you get in?” Trixie asked.
“Weren’t hard. Loads of places to slip in without no one noticing.” The boy shrugged. “At least for someone like me.”
“Someone like you how?” Nathaniel asked.
“Plain. Easy to miss. Not very big.” He jerked his thumb toward the area of the docks. “Not like some of the blokes working down there.”
“And you were just looking for sweets?” Nathaniel allowed his doubt to come through in his question.
“All the way up here? In a locked building?” Trixie tacked on.
Nathaniel leaned one hip against the desk and tapped one corner of the book. “Were you hoping to find sweets inside the pages of a book? That’s an odd place to look.”
“Well,” the boy went on, “you never know what you mind find.”
Nathaniel and Trixie exchanged glances.
Trixie went to the cabinet near the desk. “What’s your name?” She asked as she removed a tin.
“They call me Mouse.”
“Mouse.” She tossed a piece of candy to the boy. “What does your mother call you?”
“Mouse.”
Nathaniel stifled a chuckle.
“What were you really doing in here, Mouse?” she asked.
The boy glanced at Nathaniel.
“We aren’t going to call the Bobbies. But I need to know what you were doing here and who might have sent you.” She tossed the boy another piece of candy.
He popped the second one in his mouth. “Don’t guess it can do no harm.”
“Did someone send you or are you working alone?” Nathaniel asked.
“Nah. Some bloke came around night before last saying he’d give a ten pence to anyone who could find a book for him.”
“What kind of book?” Trixie asked.
“What bloke?” Nathaniel asked at the same time.
“He just said it would be about this big.” The boy demonstrated length and width with his hands for Trixie. “And that it would have a lock that you couldn’t miss.” Then he looked to Nathaniel. “Right proper gent, he was. About your height. Wore one of those new hats I keep seeing the uppers wearing now.”
“That’s not much to go on,” Trixie mumbled.
“Oh, and he had a red beard.” The boy stroked his own chin for emphasis.
“That we can use,” Nathaniel said.
Trixie tossed the boy another candy when he looked meaningfully at the canister she still held.
“What did this man say for you to do with the book if you found it?” Nathaniel asked.
“Said I should take it to the barkeep at the Angel’s Folly.”
Trixie tossed him another piece of candy.
He caught it then asked, “Can I go? No harm done.”
Trixie looked at Nathaniel.
“I’ll walk him out.”
The boy tipped his hat to Trixie and gave her a charming smile. “G’nite, Miss.”
“Oh, Mouse?”
Both the boy and Nathaniel stopped and looked back at her. “If you would rather earn an honest wage, come by the docks tomorrow morning and ask for a man named Devadas. Tell him Miss Wadeworth sent you. They often need help with odd chores like running errands or carting supplies. He should be able to put you to work.”
“Work the Bobbies wouldn’t chase me for?” Mouse asked.
“No, it most certainly wouldn’t be.”
The boy’s face brightened. “Yes, Miss. I’ll do that. Thank you!” He practically bounced out the door.
Nathaniel smiled at her then followed the boy.
7
Trixie looked up when Nathaniel’s footsteps echoed on the stairs outside her office.
“I think we need to make that trip to Edinburgh,” he suggested as soon as he walked in.
“I was thinking the same thing,” she admitted as she stacked the files into a neat pile.
“If I remember correctly it would take about a little over eight hours by train. I’m thinking I should plan on three days to travel there, visit the records room, then travel back to London.”
“Just you?” Surely, she misunderstood what he had said. “You plan to leave me here?”
“I would rather go with you.”
“No.”
The man was exasperating. “Why not?”
“We would be aboard a train with no chaperone for the better part of two days.”
“And?” she asked.
“And it wouldn’t be proper.”
She held her hand up and began ticking off her points. “First, I’m old enough to be considered on-the-shelf. Second, thanks to the scandal attached to Father’s disappearance, I’m well beyond the possibility of making a good match.”
“I think you’re selling yourself short,” he interjected.
“No, actually I’m not. I’ve been told as much by more than one matron.”
Nathaniel flinched. “Besides all of that, there’s no reason for you to go when I can simply bring you whatever I find.”
She glared at him. “Fine, you travel your way. I’ll travel mine.” She gestured to the air ships just outside her office. “Either way, I’m going.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Quite.” She returned the documents to her lockbox in the drawer and secured both.
“How long would it take to fly one of those things to Edinburgh?”
She crossed her arms over her chest “About half the time of a train.”
He growled then paced to the window. “Could you secure a pilot by tomorrow?”
“I can,” she said without hesitation.
“Whoever pilots the ship would need to be someone you trust. Someone who won’t spread tales of why we made the trip.”
“The person I have in mind is quite trustworthy.”
She held her breath and waited for him to come to the most logical conclusion, the one where she wasn’t left behind. It was her brother who was missing. She wasn’t going to just sit by and let someone else handle things. Especially not when she was perfectly capable of searching for him.
“All right,” he groused. “What do you need to do to make arrangements?”
She held back her cheer of celebration. “I just need to check the ship register to make sure the one I have in mind is available.” She led him downstairs to the office. “Only two of our pilots fly it so it’s rarely used.” She unlocked the office and led the way to Mrs. Anderson’s desk. She lit one of the lamps then retrieved a large tome from its storage place. She scanned the pages until she found the ship she wanted. “As far as I can tell it’s free. Mrs. Anderson can confirm that in the morning.” She returned the book to its place and doused the light.