Nothing.
"Knickers," Evangeline said.
Chapter 20
"Pathetic," called out Madame Zsoldas, now brandishing a brass shovel and an occasional table.
The mummy pushed past her sword and shield and thwacked the spiritualist across the face. She slammed into the window and crumpled like a discarded napkin.
Evangeline inhaled sharply and the mummy heard her swallowed cry. He lurched forward but Petunia pounced, chomping at his calf. Evangeline regretted her harsh words for the little dog earlier in the evening, she promised to bring a meaty treat for Petunia when she next visited Mrs. Picklescott-Smythe. Petunia was the bravest of them all.
With Petunia distracting the mummy, Evangeline fiddled with the copper wire and the battery.
"Loose connection, of course," she muttered and pressed the button again.
Zap.
A spray of electricity flashed along the coil and Evangeline smirked. The mummy staggered towards her, both arms outstretched, Evangeline ducked her head and stabbed the wire into the mummy's chest cavity.
The mummy jerked slightly, like a single attack of the hiccups. He roared and grabbed Evangeline by the shoulders, tossing her across the room again. She tumbled over the side of the settee and crashed into a bookcase. The objet d'art on the bookcase had already been cleaned out by Chale and Madame Zsoldas and a lone candelabra tumbled off the mantelpiece, clocking Evangeline in the head.
"My poor baby. Save my baby." Mrs. Picklescott-Smythe wailed down the stairs. "Fifty pounds for the man who rescues my Petunia"
There was a thunder of boots on the stairs and three footmen burst into the parlour, immediately skidding to a halt. Their mouths hung open when they spotted the mummy. It welcomed the newcomers with another ear-splitting screech.
Evangeline crawled along the floor, looking for her battery and copper wire.
Evangeline found her battery under an armchair and made an additional quick turn of the wire.
"Stand back," she cried.
Holding the candelabra high, Evangeline took a run-up and leaped forward, thrusting the three silver prongs into the mummy's back.
He screeched and flinched, and Evangeline pressed the battery button. Coils of electricity surged through the three prongs, shoving Evangeline backwards. But the electricity rolled along the coil and through the silver, pulsating through the mummy over and over. The bandaged figure convulsed and jerked, screeching and shivering with electricity before crumbling into a smouldering pile of ribbon on the floor.
There was a loud knocking at the front door. One of the footmen grabbed Petunia under his arm and more servants piled into the parlour, gagging at the smell, the room filling with smoke from the flaming bandages. Someone opened the front door and three bobbies with truncheons rushed into the room. Questions and raised voices came from all directions. Evangeline lowered her chin to hide her face as the room filled with people. She glanced over at the unconscious Madame Zsoldas, but she was gone. The velvet curtain pushed aside revealing the window Evangeline had broken.
In the confusion Evangeline skipped out of the broken window, down the path and into the street. A flash of scarlet jumped into a carriage and sped away, presumably towards Flemington, destined for the 6 o'clock dirigible to Batavia.
"Can I help you, sir?” said a bobby, waiting by a paddy wagon. He blinked as his eyebrows scrunched together and Evangeline remembered her unladylike black attire. “Sorry, Miss…”
"Follow that..." Evangeline said pointing to the disappearing carriage, but then the bobby stepped into the light. She recognised his face and ducked her head back into the darkness. She knew this policeman, it was Constable Kane. She met Kane on the night Mei went after the Alchemist, telling him a legion of lies to put him off the scent. Kane was a nice young man, a little too gullible for a policeman, but even he would have trouble believing Evangeline this time. He would quite rightly suspect she was part of Madame Zsoldas's monkey business and Evangeline would be the one facing a trip in the Black Maria. She dropped her arm by her side.
"Never mind," she mumbled.
"Please go back to bed, Miss. Leave this matter to us."
Evangeline nodded her downcast head and crossed the quiet street. She hesitated for a moment, she was letting Madame Zsoldas escape. Should she face her lies, turn back and raise the alarm? The lies were coming back to haunt her. Perhaps this was the revenge of the dark energy in her veins.
"Constable!" called a voice from the house and Kane disappeared inside.
Her moment to confess had passed. With a guilt-heavy heart and weary limbs, Evangeline slipped around the side of 56 Collins Street, climbed back to her own room and collapsed on her feather bed. Her slippers had barely hit the ground when she began to doze off.
"My lamp beam," she said, bolting upright with a start. "And the atervis detector. Not again."
Losing her inventions and her villains was becoming a habit. She vowed to be more careful as she drifted off to sleep, trying not to think about Miriam.
Chapter 21
The next day
“There’s nothing here about last night’s ruckus,” the Professor said, rustling The Argus.
“The Nibthwaite’s kitchen girl said it was those Little Lon larrikins.” Miss Plockton tutted as she poured the tea. “Melbourne used to be such a safe place.”
“In league with that woman, I’ll bet.” The Professor shook his head with tightly pursed lips.
“She said the bobbies caught one of the bandits,” Miss Plockton said. “Thank the Lord.”
“So it wasn’t the mummy?” the Professor said with a twinkle in his eye. ”Coming to life?”
Miss Plockton tittered and Edmund guffawed, while Evangeline dabbed at her brow with her napkin. Luckily, Uncle Augie bustled into the conservatory with a flamboyant flourish and changed the subject.
"I have an apology to make to you, Monty,” Augie said, drawing himself up to his full impressive height.
"Really?" The Professor put down his paper.
"You were right about Madame Zsoldas. She is a charlatan."
Evangeline sipped her tea and kept her mouth closed. The Professor chuckled into his moustache.
"I went to her 'performance' last night. What a total sham! I've seen better local amateur dramatic productions. She treated us like children, knocking on doors and flinging around cards with random nonsense on them. Ridiculous."
"So, no spirits materialised then?" Edmund asked.
"Hardly. I am so embarrassed, Monty. To be taken in by such a woman. I ought to have my head read."
"Well, no harm done, Augie old chap. I just hope Mrs. Picklescott-Smythe realised the truth too."
"Oh, I expect Madame Zsoldas will have disappeared in the night. One of the other guests is the sister of the editor of The Herald. I shan't be surprised if the truth about Madame's shows appears in print very soon."
"Good riddance. We can all get back to normal." The Professor smoothed his moustache with his brass fingers.
"The mood has been awfully sombre around here over the past few days. Let's take an outing and have some fun. My treat. St. Kilda Beach?"
"Can I go ice-skating?" Evangeline perked up.
"Of course. Very graceful pastime," Augie said. "I almost forgot. This should be good for a chuckle. I took a few souvenirs from last night. In case I needed some type of evidence."
From his jacket pocket, Augie pulled out a stack of white cards and spread them across the table. Edmund and the Professor leaned in. Evangeline gasped a little, hiding her reaction behind her tea cup.
The top card read 'Mother'.
"Oh, that could apply to anyone. Everyone has a mother," the Professor scoffed. "Classic trick used by fortune tellers."
"Exactly," Augie replied. "No magic there. Madame Zsoldas claimed she did not recognise the handwriting either. Apparently it was not her hand or any of her minions."
The next card read 'Power'.
The men all ch
uckled. Evangeline stayed quiet, anxiously awaiting the next card.
Then Augie laid down the third card. "Miriam." Augie chuckled.
"No one in the room knew a Miriam. One person did but apparently their Miriam was very much alive. This was the final nail in the proverbial coffin, revealing Madame Zsoldas for the crook she is."
The Professor and Edmund turned open-mouthed and stared at Evangeline. Evangeline looked back with eyes as wide as saucers. It was obvious they were as confused as she was.
Augie chuckled, oblivious to the shocked expressions around the table and picked up the final card.
"Um, Augie..." started Edmund in a quiet voice.
"And this one. Some gibberish. I don't know what it means."
Augie laid the card down. This was a card Evangeline had not seen from her hiding place behind the curtain.
The card read 'Geileish'.
This time, the Professor audibly gasped and Edmund brought down his tea cup on the saucer with a crash.
The room was filled with awkward silence.
"What's wrong?" said Augie.
No one spoke for a long time.
Chapter 22
Evangeline sat at her writing desk, pretending to complete her comprehension exercises. But she was staring out the window, watching the clouds flock and separate, while her mind wandered in a hundred different directions.
There was a soft knock at the door and the Professor entered.
He sat on the bed with a sigh.
"Well, this has been an unusual morning."
"What does it mean, Father?"
"Edmund told you about my mother?"
"He said you lost her when you were a small boy."
"She was taken far too young. I have never known anyone like her." Her father smiled wistfully.
"But how could Madame Zsoldas know? About your mother. About me. What does this mean? No one in Melbourne, except for you and Uncle Edmund knows that my name used to be Miriam."
"This is a baffling situation."
"Did your mother really have powers? Uncle Edmund mentioned the rumours. Is this why you are still open to the possibility of magic?"
"Yes. No." The Professor shrugged his shoulders and puffed his self-combusting pipe. "It's all quite confusing. I was only a child. Perhaps it was the sorrow of a young boy, trying to cope with the loss of his mother. Perhaps my mind created the magic. But I am not sure."
"I have felt a strange feeling," Evangeline confessed. "A few months ago. Something I cannot explain."
The Professor frowned.
"A power tingling through my fingers. It allowed me to do something which was impossible." Evangeline skipped over the finer details of the escape from the Alchemist's cellar. "I looked at my hand through your atervis detector. I saw silver and now I am petrified, Father. What if the energy is dark? What if I am evil?"
The Professor reached out, clasping Evangeline's hand with his real hand.
"Where did you get such silly ideas? No daughter of mine is evil. I am your Father. I am here to look after you. Whatever happens," he said with conviction. "Everything changed so rapidly for you. A new country, a new family, a new name. Of course, you'll be a little out of sorts."
"And it becomes curiouser every day." Evangeline sighed.
"These are strange times." He nodded. "I can't fully comprehend or explain but you have my support. As long as you mind your table manners and there is no repeat of last night's tea-time beastliness."
"Thank you, Father. This is a great comfort to me."
"Perhaps we can do a few experiments," he said.
Evangeline grimaced, imagining herself trussed like a poor dissected frog.
"Who would have thought such strangeness would follow us out here to the new world. But I must go. I have my meeting with the Governor. We shall talk about this later."
The secret project.
"Is your project finished?" Evangeline forgot her other worries. She burned to know what was under the tarpaulin.
"Nearly, my dear. I shall be able to tell you all about it soon." The Professor grinned. "Oh, and this letter came in for you in the post."
The Professor handed over a white envelope with Evangeline's name written on the front in an unfamiliar copperplate hand. He stood up and closed the door.
Evangeline felt a weight lift from her narrow shoulders. It felt good to tell the truth and she vowed to do it more often. Her father did not think she was evil and he understood about her strange feelings, perhaps there was a rational explanation for everything. She wished Grandmama Geileish was still alive to explain. Perhaps Geileish had already tried. Last night in Mrs. Picklescott-Smythe's parlour.
Evangeline padded downstairs to find a letter opener. She found Miss Plockton at her desk in the kitchen and borrowed her little silver blade.
"An invitation, Miss Evangeline?" Miss Plockton probed. "Perhaps from one of those lovely young ladies from your watercolours class."
Evangeline shrugged. The paper was thick and excellent quality, but the post mark was indecipherable. She slipped out a single sheet of paper folded in half. She opened and read.
Dear little urchin,
I apologise for my lack of correspondence, but after our last meeting I was whisked away on other business.
I have had the pleasure of meeting up with our mutual friend again and he wants to pass on his well-wishes. He is missing you very much and I understand he is planning to come to visit you in Melbourne very soon.
I hope our paths will cross again soon.
Yours faithfully
Lady Violetta Breckenridge-Rice.
Evangeline let the paper slip from her fingers and drop to the bluestone floor.
"Is it bad news, Miss Evangeline?" Miss Plockton asked with concerned eyes.
"I think it is," Evangeline said.
Evangeline and the Mysterious Lights
Mystery and Mayhem in steampunk Melbourne
(The Antics of Evangeline Book 4)
Chapter 1
Evangeline closed her eyes and rocked with the rhythm of the open-top carriage, happily filled with strawberry ice-cream.
"What a splendid afternoon," said her father, the Professor, rubbing his rounded belly.
Evangeline murmured in agreement, eyes half closed, dreaming of another pink scoop.
"A delightfully grey day," said Evangeline's Uncle Augie, perfecting the angle on his straw boater. "All this Antipodean sun can be such a bore. Today reminded me of good old Brighton. Civilised. With no unseemly perspiration."
As the sun sank, ribbons of plum and apricot unfurled across the May sky. The horses clopped across the Swanston Street bridge, returning from the St. Kilda seaside and headed for the home they all shared at 56 Collins Street. St Paul's Cathedral bells pealing, Evangeline stared up into the sky, watching the stars emerge one by one.
"I'm still not used to this night sky," Uncle Edmund said, screwing up his face. "I can't find any of the stars I know. It's all topsy-turvy."
"We had stars in London?" Augie raised an eyebrow. "How could you see through the smoke?"
"It's perfectly logical, little brother," said the Professor, pointing into the air with his clockwork hand. "That one is Scorpius, a scorpion. And over there, Centaurus. And that magnificent grouping is known as the Southern Cross."
"A cross?" Miss Plockton, the Professor's efficacious personal secretary, said throwing a tartan blanket over Evangeline. "Isnae that lovely?"
"This new sky will take some getting used to," Edmund said. "For example, what on earth is that?"
Edmund pointed to the east where the sky was darkest. Three brilliant white lights blazed far away in the distance, bigger and brighter than any other stars in the sky.
Evangeline leaned forward, squinting, while her father clicked and flicked, selecting the ideal lens on his pince-nez.
"Curious." The Professor stroked his moustache with his brass fingers. "I am not familiar with that particular constellation. But we'
re all learning about our new surroundings."
"But Father, the lights are moving," Evangeline said. "Coming towards us."
"No," scoffed her father. "That's impossible. An optical illusion, m'dear."
"She's right," Edmund said. "They're getting bigger."
"Probably just dirigibles," said Augie with a yawn, barely glancing up from his fingernails.
"They're awfully bright..."
Augie shrugged. "Another disaster perhaps? Tragic but the price of progress."
"But isn't the dirigible field over there? West. In Flemington? They don't usually fly over town."
"Perhaps they're taking a new route?" Augie lay back with his eyes closed. "Are we home yet?"
"What's out there to see? Only trees and bush," Edmund said. "There is something very strange about those lights. Not like a dirigible at all. Do you have your opera glasses on you, Augie?"
The Professor, Evangeline and Edmund stared up into the inky sky. The lights pulsing as they hurtled closer to the town centre, swapping positions like a street magician's cup and ball trick.
"How very peculiar," the Professor said. "No airship I know can manoeuvre in that way. Absolutely fascinating."
"What could it be?" asked Evangeline, perking up in her seat.
"I don't know," the Professor said, his voice trailing away into thought.
Evangeline licked her lips. Strange lights in the sky and something her father did not know? Was a new mystery unfolding before her eyes?
"Perhaps there is another explanation." Miss Plockton tugged at the gold cross at her neck and muttered the Lord's Prayer.
"Now my curiosity is well and truly piqued. Hurry along, man!" The Professor shouted to the carriage driver. "We must get home quick sticks."
The carriage driver slapped the reins, the horses picked up their pace, and the leisurely afternoon carriage ride was over.
"I have just the instrument. If we hurry, we can solve this mystery here and now."
The Antics of Evangeline: Collection 1: Mystery and Mayhem in steampunk Melbourne Page 21
