"Let's go find Uncle Augie. Then our next stop is Hart's. I want to see the scene of the crime."
"Cake first."
"But Mei, every moment is vital."
"Cake. Or no Hart's."
"Very well." Evangeline sighed. "I have to admit, looking for clues is quite thirsty work."
The girls found Uncle Augie holding a strong leather riding boot and in intense conversation with a handsome young man with golden hair. Augie was so engrossed in the company of the beautiful man, he did not notice their arrival.
Evangeline coughed tactfully and Augie looked up with a broad smile.
"Ah, ladies. There you are."
"Sorry for interrupting, Uncle. But shopping is a thirsty endeavour. We were hoping it was time for tea?"
"Absolutely. It must be time for elevenses. Whilst these boots would make a fine gift for Edmund, I have spent more than enough time in this establishment."
Augie turned to the handsome man standing beside him.
"May I introduce my colleague, Mr Everett Foxton? Mr Foxton is one of the actors at the Prince Albert. You may recall, he played a marvellous Blood-Red Bill in Claude Duvall. Outstanding reviews in The Argus. Mr Foxton, please meet Miss Caldicott and Miss Fang."
Mr Foxton briefly smiled with gleaming straight teeth, Mei and Evangeline giggled into their hands and swooned.
"Oh, you flatter me too much, Mr Beauchamp. Charmed, ladies."
"Pleasure." They blushed and murmured, as he politely took their hands one after another, before turning his full attention back to Augie.
"May I tag along?" Mr Foxton said. "I'm awfully lonely here in Melbourne."
"I find that very hard to believe," Augie fussed.
Evangeline agreed. A man of his beauty would be a desirable commodity for every eligible young lady in Victoria, and her mother.
"Girls, would you mind if Mr Foxton joined us for tea?"
Evangeline found her tongue and her senses. An attractive gentleman must not distract her from her investigations.
"It would be an absolute pleasure, Mr Foxton."
They hailed a cab for four and travelled down Bourke Street. Past the street barrows stacked with red apples and yellow bananas, the steam tram covered in advertising placards and the construction of impressive new buildings on every corner. The sun had woken up this morning with a bad temper and the strong wind whipped up clusters of dust. Evangeline held her handkerchief firmly over her nose, thankful for the lavender scent, as the heat sizzled the mounds of horse dung, rotting apples and night soil, bringing the stink of Melbourne to new heights of revulsion.
It was a tight fit in the cab, Mr Foxton and Uncle Augie conversed quietly, their bodies pressed firmly against each other. Evangeline knew theatre people worked long hours together and became very close. Their exclusive conversation gave Evangeline the chance to whisper to Mei.
"After tea, let's escape from Uncle Augie."
"I could knock him out?" Mei offered.
Evangeline was impressed with Mei's nerve but an unconscious Uncle may be a little difficult to explain.
"Maybe next time," she said.
Chapter 9
The party of four were ushered to the last available table in Faversham's House of Tea. Evangeline breathed in deeply, savouring the warm scents of cinnamon and melting butter. The room was white, bright and cool with large windows facing the street, perfectly appointed for observing and being observed. Every table was crammed with mothers and daughters taking a well-deserved break from the toil of shopping along Bourke Street.
As they took their seats, the room rippled with whispers. Every woman in the room glanced up admiringly at Mr Foxton.
"Excuse me for interrupting, Mr Foxton." A woman with a wobbly double chin approached their table.
"I saw your performance in HMS Pinafore seven times. You were simply entrancing. Could I bother you for your autograph, Mr Foxton? For my daughter."
"Of course. Of course."
Mr Foxton replied graciously as she slipped a copy of The Argus in front of him.
"So very lonely," Uncle Augie teased and Foxton fobbed him off with a wave of his hand.
A frilly capped waitress poured tea from a white and gold curlicued teapot. Evangeline was wary of touching the delicate china cups for fear of breaking the handle clean off.
"Remember your manners," Uncle Augie whispered as he passed the silver sugar caddy.
Evangeline immediately raised her pinkie and Mei copied diligently. The two girls feeling like starlings in a room full of peacocks.
The waitress placed a tiered cake stand laden with sugary delights on the crisp damask tablecloth. The girls tucked into slices of cream cake with pink icing, glossy chocolate eclairs, wobbly orange jellies and golden scones with chunky marmalade. Mr Foxton barely nibbled on a piece of dry toast.
"I must maintain my physique."
Augie nodded knowingly. Mei frowned. Evangeline expected Mr Foxton was nothing like the hard working trade men in Mei's family.
The conversation turned to the strange tale of the faux gold watch.
"How intriguing," Mr Foxton said.
"I know. We're going... Ow." Mei howled as Evangeline kicked her under the table. Mei must learn to be more discreet.
"Yes, but extremely tiresome," Augie said. "I shall leave it to the police to handle. But I must find Edmund another birthday present."
"Have you been to Hugglescote's Gentlemen's Outfitters? They have recently opened off the Block Arcade. Finest French accoutrements this side of Paris."
"No, I haven't had the pleasure."
"Perhaps after our tea?"
Evangeline tried not to smirk. Thank heavens for Mr Foxton.
"Oh, but the young ladies. I cannot leave them unchaperoned."
"Of course you can..." Mei said.
"...if you must continue on," Evangeline interrupted, with a glare at Mei. "You can place us in a hansom cab bound for home. I do have lessons to attend to."
"That sounds like a sensible plan," Augie said.
Pleasantly jammed with cream cake and tea, the group settled their bill and stepped out to face the searing heat. Augie hailed a cab and placed the two girls inside, instructing the driver to 56 Collins Street.
"Are we givin' up?" said Mei once Augie was out of earshot. "Thanks for the eclairs, but I was hopin' for more of an adventure. You should've let me knock him out."
The horse clipped down the street. Evangeline swivelled around to watch Augie and Mr Foxton saunter away towards the Block Arcade, deep in discussion.
"Stop!" she exclaimed.
The driver skidded to a halt, jolting the two girls forward, almost toppling out of their seats.
"Are you alright, Miss."
The driver turned around, a worried look on his face.
"A change of plans, sir," she said. "We shall disembark here."
"But the gentleman said..."
"Nevermind what the gentleman said..."
"But you don't want to be goin' down there, young Miss."
"You can keep the fare. I won't tell a soul."
"Whatever Miss wants. Thank you kindly." The driver deposited the two young ladies onto the footpath and Mei led the way to Goldsmith's Alley.
It was time to hear the story from Mr Hart himself.
Chapter 10
Evangeline and Mei turned up the narrow Goldsmith's Alley.
"You start the conversation and get him talking. He knows you and won't suspect a thing. I'll ask questions once he's explained his side of the story."
In Goldsmith's Alley, half of the shopfronts were boarded up. Business was slow now the gold rush had turned into a slow trickle. But not at Hart's. Their brightly painted sign, sparkling clean windows, marble flooring and red velvet display cabinets showed business was still strong. A gold pocket watch was a must for every gentlemen and especially the newly rich land boomers.
The shop bell tinkled as Mei pushed open the door. A young man with flashing da
rk eyes rushed out from behind the front glass counter.
"Ah, Miss Fang. What an unexpected surprise? How lovely you look today."
"Mr Hart. You are too kind. Have you met my companion, Miss Evangeline Caldicott?"
Evangeline was still getting used to her new name. Caldicott was so much more elegant than Drigg. But who was she? On some days, Evangeline was not quite sure.
"I have not had the pleasure. Welcome to my family's modest establishment, Miss Caldicott. How may we be of assistance today?"
"We were in the vicinity. Taking tea at Faversham's. When I told Miss Caldicott of your wares."
"Why, thank you for your recommendation, Miss Fang. Is there a particular item you are interested in, Miss Caldicott? A gift perhaps."
"I presume you have pocket watches? I am looking for a lovely gift for my father's birthday."
Mr Hart stumbled.
"Ordinarily, yes. However, a buyer came in yesterday and bought up our entire stock. A land boomer with an unexpected windfall. So unfortunately today, I have nothing to show you."
Mei and Evangeline shot each other a sideways glance.
"May I suggest a gold ring? Or a cravat pin?"
Evangeline laughed a little as she thought about her father wearing a gold ring on his clockwork fingers. Gold clashed terribly with brass.
"My father is not the ring wearing type."
All of a sudden, the shop door burst open and a familiar voice cried out.
"Evangeline Caldicott. What are you doing here?"
Evangeline spun around to see Uncle Augie's angry face.
"Knickers," she muttered under her breath.
"I told you to have nothing to do with these men! These charlatans!"
"Excuse me, sir. Please lower your voice," Mr Hart said. "There is no need to shout."
"How dare you speak to me like that? After what you've done."
A stooped man with a long flowing beard, white shirt and black waistcoat appeared from the back room.
"What is all this noise about? Asher?"
"Father. This man is causing a ruckus."
The older Mr Hart whispered to young Asher and his face paled. Augie glowered at both Evangeline and the two men. Evangeline wished she could run out the door and escape her Uncle's wrath, but she would not be able to run far in these skirts.
"We are terribly sorry, Mr Beauchamp. My son did not recognise you," said the older Mr Hart. "Please be assured we had nothing to do with the incident. We were as duped as you were. Please accept a refund, or perhaps you would like to choose another of our fine gentleman's accessories?"
"I will never own a piece of your tat! You should be closed down. Mark my words, I will be reporting you to the Governor. Personally."
Augie leaned his ample frame over the glass counter, pointing his finger into the faces of the two Mr Harts. His face as ruddy as the velvet display cushions.
"Birthday ruiners! I don't know how you can live with yourselves?"
"Hear him out, Uncle. Please." Evangeline placed her arm on her not-real Uncle's arm. She hoped to coax more information from the old man.
"The police confiscated all our watches and found the trickery for themselves. The gold turned to iron inside the police station. We have removed every item from the particular shipment of gold from sale. We were tricked like you. It was some kind of dybbuk," the older Mr Hart said.
"Dyb-what?" said Mei.
"An evil spirit from the old country. Cursed ghouls who delight in harming innocent people. The dybbuk must have possessed us both and convinced us to pay a high price for the fake gold."
"So if the dybbuk didn't sell you the gold..." Evangeline said. "Who did?"
The father and son shook their heads with downcast faces.
"We cannot remember," the old man said
"It was like a dream," Asher said. "Every now and then, I catch a glimpse of his face in my mind but before I see him clearly, it vanishes."
"Dybbuks? A likely story. Why not blame the goblins?" Augie scoffed.
"I promise you, sir." The old man cowered.
"You orchestrated the whole swindle and you will pay for this. Believe me. No one crosses August Beauchamp," Augie spluttered. "Come, Evangeline, we're leaving."
"But..." Evangeline said.
Augie grabbed Evangeline by the elbow and pulled her out of the door.
Chapter 11
Banished to her room yet again, Evangeline could hear Miss Plockton behind the closed door, pacing the hallway like a sentry. Evangeline slumped on one elbow, staring out the window, plotting her next move. She knew the alchemist resided somewhere on Wellington Parade. Knocking on every door looking for an alchemist was out of the question. She could not even leave the house. Yet she needed more information on the identity of the mysterious aludel purchaser.
The heat was stifling and prickled Evangeline all over. She mopped her damp forehead and wished the bothersome sun would go away. It was so unfair to be confined upstairs. How could she find the alchemist from her bedroom? Then Evangeline remembered. It was Wednesday night.
"Of course!"
She bounded out of her seat and opened her bedroom door.
"Miss Evangeline. You are not ta come out of your room. You heard the Professor."
"I know, Miss Plockton. I am terribly sorry for all I've done today. I only wanted to help."
She opened her eyes wide, attempting a beseeching look. Miss Plockton's face was as blank as the wall behind her.
"I've had time to think about my wicked deeds. I must turn over a new leaf and mend my ways. I would like a chance to repent for what I've done."
"Repent?" Miss Plockton said with a raised eyebrow.
"If only I could be as good as you, Miss Plockton. You are quite the paragon of virtue."
"I am no different to you. I am a sinner, doing my best to live by God's laws."
"Exactly. I need to know more about God and his laws and so on."
A flicker of indecipherable emotion ran across Miss Plockton's face. Evangeline hoped she was being convincing.
"You want ta learn more of God's word?"
"Oh yes, Miss Plockton. I have been reading the Bible you gave me and I would like to seek God's guidance on how to be less wicked."
"Your interest is rather sudden."
"Oh no, I have been wondering about God and the Bible for days. Weeks even."
Miss Plockton fixed Evangeline with a long and hard stare before replying
"I will speak with your father. There is a service this evening at St. Andrew's. The Reverend gives a wonderful sermon. You would greatly benefit from hearing his words. Your father's lack of attendance is worrisome, I often pray for your soul."
"Thank you, Miss Plockton," Evangeline said solemnly.
Evangeline closed the door. She felt a pang of guilt, but once she captured the alchemist, Miss Plockton would understand her white lies were for a greater good.
Like her education, Evangeline's religious instruction was patchy. Before the death of her mother, when Evangeline lived in a normal house and went to school, her family attended church every week. But after her mother's death, when her life and her stepfather spiralled out of control, God was another part of her life to fall by the wayside.
She pushed aside the red and amber oriental rug beside her bed and pressed on the short floorboard, revealing the secret hiding place beneath. She reached in and grabbed a brass telegraph key.
"Meet me tonight at ten o'clock. In the laneway." She tapped in Morse code.
"Why?" was the instantaneous response.
Whilst rifling in the laboratory-workshop two weeks ago, Evangeline found two basic telegraph key devices coated in dust. Recognising the devices from her travels in the dirigibles from London to Melbourne, Evangeline took them upstairs to study further, before handing one over to Mei. There had to be ways for young ladies to speak with one another without their parents knowing. They agreed to keep their conversations short in case someone interce
pted but Mei was succinct at the best of times.
"We're going to catch the alchemist."
"Ten o'clock," Mei responded.
Evangeline was smoothing the rug over with her boot when Miss Plockton rapped on her door and entered with a tray.
"Your father has agreed. You can accompany me to this evening's service. It begins at six."
She placed a tray on Evangeline's writing desk. Her tea comprised of slices of pink ham, a speckled boiled egg and a piece of seed cake, accompanied with a small pot of Darjeeling for one.
"I am so pleased, Miss Plockton. I am very much looking forward to it."
A brief smile graced Miss Plockton's lips, showing a handsomeness in her father's secretary's face never visible before. She looked almost pretty.
Again Evangeline felt guilt at her falsehood. But she was curious to see Miss Plockton's beloved church and glimpse her life outside the house on Collins Street.
Alone once again, Evangeline unwrapped her brown paper parcel from Snodgrass & Sons and set to work completing her new invention. With her rosewood-handled screwdriver, she fastened the two large springs on either side. There was no time or space to test her new invention properly, she only hoped it worked.
Chapter 12
Slapping the reins against the horse's rump, Miss Plockton proved to be an accomplished horsewoman, guiding the chestnut mare through the dust clouded streets. Ordinarily, Miss Plockton walked to church but today she borrowed a horse and cab from the Nibthwaites next door.
They must have looked quite a sight. Their faces clad in the Professor's newest prototype, a device to keep out the dust and stench of Smelbourne. The leather straps were hot and sweaty against Evangeline's scalp but the fine mesh around the nose and mouth blocked out the terracotta dirt.
They travelled for ten minutes through the hordes of workers returning to their homes from their shifts on the wharves and in the factories. Shop assistants travelling out to their homes in Collingwood and North Melbourne. The cab stopped for a moment, at one of the new clockwork traffic controllers on the corner of Exhibition and Little Lonsdale Street. Nefarious types loitered around the entrance to the sinful streets of Little Lon, with its brothels and opium dens. Miss Plockton's hand graced the small gold cross around her neck as the traffic moved again and the horse passed the lascivious laneways. Evangeline had not ventured into this part of Melbourne, but she knew the similar streets in London well and had no desire to walk those depraved streets again.
The Antics of Evangeline: Collection 1: Mystery and Mayhem in steampunk Melbourne Page 4
