by H. L. Burke
He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Sure my father’s research is valuable, but it is also highly illegal. Rivera should be distancing himself from it, not entrenching himself like he has. It’s not as if the ability to replace human body parts with robotic elements is in high demand. Why all the conspiracy?”
“Maybe because he’s ill.”
Ellis started. “What do you mean ‘ill’?”
“He hides it well, but he has a tremor in his hand and relies far too much on his cane for a man his age. Something’s eating away at him, bite by bite.”
Of course … and the original purpose of my dad’s research was to strengthen my body. This isn’t good. Rivera’s already a determined enough force when not powered by self-preservation.
Ellis hesitated then lowered the gun. It wouldn’t be pleasant, but he knew what he needed to do.
O’Hara raised her eyebrows. “You’re not going to shoot me?”
“Don’t want to get my aristocratic hands soiled cleaning up a crime scene.” He let out a long breath. “Besides, I need you to take a message to your boss. Nyss doesn’t have what he wants, but I do. Tell Rivera I’ll trade what I know about my father’s research, which is pretty much everything, for Nyssa’s safety.”
She rubbed her forehead. “Just like that?”
“Nyss is my world. It’s not a hard choice.” Ellis drew a deep breath.
O’Hara shifted from foot to foot, her eyes downcast.
“What is it?” Ellis asked.
“When Rivera approached me, he made it clear that I might be able to close Nyssa’s case, but not because she’d go to trial. He’s never intended to let her get out of this alive, and he won’t let you live either once he’s gotten what he wants out of you. When I was convinced the young lady was a murderer, it seemed a fair trade. Another form of justice even, but … drat it all, I like you, Ellis. You’re a good fellow.” Her face darkened. “And besides, Rivera knew I was in that steam car, and he still ordered it run off the road. I’m not going to be able to rest if he gets away with this now.”
Ellis drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Okay, so do you have a better plan?”
A grin crept over O’Hara’s face. “I just might.”
Chapter Fourteen
Nyssa sat on the edge of a slowly widening hole in the floor and wiped her brow. She’d managed the delicate work of removing any live wires, but a big metal pipe still blocked her way.
“How’s it going?” Hart asked.
She glanced up. The computer had been quiet for the last hour or so, though he gave her occasional reports on Rivera’s and Aito’s movements.
“Good. Hopefully this won’t take much longer. Just this last pipe and a layer of plaster in the way.” She poked around her satchel for a tool strong enough to cut through metal. “Once I get through to the next floor, I should be able to sneak out of the manor. They will think I’m still in here, if I’m quiet enough, so it won’t be that hard to evade them.”
“You’ll need to be careful.”
“I’ve done daylight burglaries once or twice.” She smiled. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“When you get out of the manor, then what?” His tone was somber.
She tilted her head. “Find Ellis, I guess. Then we’ll plan how to get back in here for you. Rivera’s broken several laws. If we can convince the New Taured police to go after him instead of me, we can get him out of the way, and we’ll be free to claim you.”
“Do you really want to bother, though?”
Nyssa’s brow furrowed. “Of course. Hart, what’s wrong?”
“It’s just … when Ellis called, your whole countenance changed.” His monitor dimmed. “Nyss, you light up for him in a way you don’t for me. Why would you want a cheap copy of the man you love hanging around you when you have the real thing?”
“Hart, it’s not like that. Even I admit, I’m not exactly sure what you are or how a computer can be so human without actually being human, but you’ve proven over and over again that there is more to you than simple programming.” She came to stand before him. Her own reflection smiled back at her from his screen. “That electric heart of yours is real somehow. I’m not going to leave you behind again.”
“Even you know I’m not really him. For one thing, you still call me Hart, not Ellis.”
“Well, calling you Ellis would just be confusing.” She chuckled.
“And what do you think Ellis will have to say about my existence?”
Nyssa shrugged. “He’ll probably find you fascinating. He may want to pick your brain about your programming … oh sparks and shocks, Ellis having a conversation with himself … that’ll be hilarious.”
Hart laughed, but still in a minor key.
Her heart twisting, Nyssa turned back to her project. “This is a heavy duty pipe. No electrical field. What do the house plans say this one is?”
“I’m not certain,” Hart said. “That must’ve been added in during Rivera’s renovations because it’s not on the original plans. Best guess? It’s the drain from that new washroom he added in. It’s kind of coming from that general direction.”
“Well, if no one is using the washroom, the pipe should be mostly dry. I can cut it.” She dug through the professor’s tool closet. “Ah ha!” She triumphantly withdrew a long-handled pipe-cutter. After clamping it in place around the pipe, she gave the handle a twist. The pipe moaned, buckled, then exploded in a burst of steam. Nyssa fell onto her rump. “Shock me!”
A geyser of steam hissed from the pipe. Blast! Not a drain pipe.
She crawled forward, trying to avoid the scalding vapor. Her peacoat lay nearby, so she snatched it up and wrapped it around the pipe. Thankfully, it was only a small crack. After she tied the coat into a knot, the steam dissipated.
She shook her head. “Huh … now what? Maybe try a few feet over … but blast, that’s almost as bad as starting from scratch.” I could try to clamp down on the pipe to keep the steam from escaping, but if it backs up with too much pressure it could flat out explode in my face.
“Looks like Rivera’s got a guest. Someone just came in the front, but I don’t recognize him.”
“I’m sure it’s just another of his henchmen.” Nyssa sorted through her tools, looking for inspiration.
“I doubt it. He’s in a wheelchair.”
Nyssa’s blood turned to ice water. “What? Show me?”
Hart switched his view to an image of the foyer. The video was from across the room, but she’d recognize him anywhere.
“Ellis, what are you thinking?” she whispered. “Please, please be careful.”
***
Ellis wheeled into his father’s study—Rivera’s study now, he supposed. Memories ranging from pleasant to horrific flitted through his brain. He tried to force them quiet, to concentrate on the mission, but the familiar setting wouldn't allow it.
The gas lamps glowed over the same wood paneling and high ceilings that he remembered from his boyhood, though the carpeting was different. Rivera had replaced Professor Dalhart’s old fashioned, simple furniture with more stylish modern pieces, one of them a dark leather arm chair where Rivera sat, smiling at him.
The door shut behind him with an ominous click. Ellis tried to ignore his pounding pulse. This isn’t a suicide mission. I’m going to get what I need, wait for O’Hara’s signal, then get out alive.
Rivera leaned forward, his hands clasped atop his ebony cane. “You look well. I’d heard a rumor you’d been in an accident.”
Ellis shrugged. “Minor inconvenience. Though someone owes my lawyer a new steam car.” The metal of O’Hara’s police-issue recording device felt cold against his skin. It was all he could do not to reach up and touch it through his shirt.
Steady. All I need is to get him to admit to something illegal. Kidnapping, attempted murder … I’d take tax evasion at this point, as long as it sends him to jail.
“So, to get the obvious out of the way, you’
re alive.” Rivera settled back comfortably, his legs crossed. “How’d you manage that?”
“My father was mad, but his intent was always to improve my life. He went out of his way to keep me breathing, even at his furthest gone.”
“Does anyone else know about you?”
“A few folk—enough that if I disappeared there would be questions.” Ellis had spent the last hour or so seeing to that, with Clarence’s help. “My lawyer’s been quietly setting things into motion for my return over the last few months.” The clock on the wall chimed four. Dear Lord, let O’Hara be quick. I don’t know how long I can keep Rivera busy.
Ellis cast what he hoped was a lazy glance around the room. “Love what you’ve done to the old place. I heard you paid a pretty penny for it.”
“Yes, I did.” Rivera scowled. “I suppose I have you to thank for that.”
“Nothing personal. Just business.”
“And your interest in Miss Glass?”
A smile twitched at the corner of Ellis’s mouth. “Well, that is personal.”
“Oh really?” Rivera raised an eyebrow. “With your injuries, I didn’t think you’d be capable of such activities.”
Heat rose under Ellis’s collar. “That’s even more personal.” I’m not going to let him see me blink. If he’s stooping to that level, he’s feeling cornered. “Is she even alive? If not, we have nothing to talk about.”
Rivera raised his hand. “Calm down. Your felonious girlfriend is fine—for now.”
Twenty minutes to get in, twenty to get out, another ten in case something goes wrong. I have to draw this out.
“I have to wonder what you said to keep the police away from Dalhart Manor for all these years. Did you bribe and threaten the entire force?”
“You know my approach to business was always more pinpoint accuracy than broad strokes. Why grease all the palms when you can just discover what’s important to one or two men and push down on those pressure points?” Rivera’s hand wavered slightly, but he clenched down again on his cane, controlling the tremor.
O’Hara was right.
“Something’s been bothering me for a while. My father had full run of this mansion, experimenting on his staff for months. He would’ve needed supplies, tools, and someone to keep away prying eyes.” Ellis narrowed his eyes. “At first I assumed you found out about his experiments after the fact, but no, for my father to get away with what he did for as long as he did, he would’ve had to have outside help.”
Rivera scoffed. “Your father was a brilliant inventor, but he never had much of a mind for the practical side of things. I may have sponsored his activities for a bit. Didn’t stop him from cutting me out towards the end. I think he suspected my motives.”
“Imagine that.” Ellis scowled. “My dad was fragile, half mad, crushed by the loss of his wife. He needed help, and instead you fed his darkness. And for what? To strengthen your own failing body?”
Rivera recoiled. “What … what do you mean?”
“The way your hand was shaking just now. Palsy?”
Rivera’s face reddened, then his mouth hardened. “Fool doctors, for all their modern medicine, couldn’t give me a diagnosis. Just snake oil and false hope.” He leaned forward. “Do you know why I’m a successful business man, Dalhart? Because I’m ruthless, because I don’t tolerate weakness or idiocy. Ninety percent of success is appearance. If a man can’t control his own limbs, how is he supposed to govern a corporation?” He stood. “You should know more than most what it’s like to have your body turn against you.”
“I also know that sacrificing your soul to save your physical being is a fool’s trade.”
Throwing his head back, Rivera laughed. “Soul? Really? I would’ve thought your father would’ve raised a man of science.”
“My father raised a man who saw what the unchecked pursuit of knowledge without the guidance of morality could result in, and how miserable it could be. I can accept that I will never walk again. I couldn’t accept becoming a monster who would throw the lives of others away to further his own ends.” Ellis gripped the arms of his chair. “Rivera, stop and think. I don’t know what you’ve been diagnosed with, but my father’s research is not the answer. For one thing, he never perfected it. All his test subjects died—terribly.”
“So I will perfect it.” Rivera stamped the floor with his cane.
“And who are you going to experiment on? Yourself? Poor unwilling souls like my father did?”
“I’ll find a way!” Rivera’s lips curled into a snarl. “I have near unlimited resources … and for all your lofty speeches, you’re still here. Presumably to give me what I want.”
“To save Nyss, yes.” Ellis steadied himself. He had to stay focused.
“So, how do we start?”
Ellis barely suppressed a smile. This was the easiest way to stall Rivera. “Well, I suppose you could bring me paper and pen, and I could write down everything I know about my father’s work. Might take a while, but easiest way to convey information.”
“I suppose —”
The door burst opened behind them, and a small man with dark hair rushed in. “Are you all right, sir?”
Rivera furrowed his brow. “Yes. Why?”
“Bring her in, Jamison,” the small man called out the door.
A burly man dragged in a struggling figure with her head covered in a burlap sack. Ellis’s heart skipped several beats. Blast you, O’Hara.
Jamison thrust O’Hara into an empty armchair and wrenched off her hood. Her face was bright red, and her hair stuck up at all angles, but she managed a glare that was more furious than flustered.
“What’s the meaning of this, Aito?” Rivera frowned. “You know Detective O’Hara is on our payroll.”
“She may be taking your money, sir, but the men caught her sneaking up the back stairs towards the workshop and lab. There’s no way she could’ve known about that passage without someone familiar with the house tipping her off.” Aito nodded towards Ellis. “He got to her, I’m guessing.”
Ellis shrugged. “I’ve never seen this woman before in my life.”
“Now that’s a lie. She told us herself she was traveling with you.” Rivera narrowed his eyes at O’Hara. “And I thought you were a practical woman, detective. What did you hope to gain from this double-cross?”
“What did you hope to gain from running a car off the road with me inside?” She practically spat at him.
“So what was the plan? She sneaks in and frees your little girlfriend while you keep me busy here?” Rivera asked. “Do you even have the information I need?”
“Oh, I do, but you’ll never see it.” Ellis eased his hand towards the secret compartment where his revolver rested. “It’s over, Rivera. O’Hara called in your attempt to have us killed. Any moment now the New Taured police will swarm this place.”
Rivera snorted. “You’re bluffing.”
Of course, it was a bluff, but Ellis just needed to buy a few more seconds.
“No, he’s not. We only came here first to make sure Nyssa was safe. I was supposed to get to the room where she’s being held and keep an eye on her while Ellis distracted you until my fellow officers arrived.” O’Hara crossed her arms. “You’re done for, Rivera.”
Ellis drew his revolver and aimed it at Rivera.
“Sir!” Aito shouted.
Aito dodged towards Ellis. Ellis instinctively pulled the trigger. A blast jerked up his arm, sending his ears ringing.
Aito faltered. With a groan, he sank to his knees, his hand clutching his shoulder. Before Ellis could regroup, Jamison rushed across the room and wrenched the gun from his hand.
Rivera stared from Aito, to Ellis, and back again.
“Aito?” he asked, his voice cold.
“It’s … it’s all right, but I need to stop … the bleeding.” Aito pulled his hand from a swiftly blossoming stain of red on his shirt. “There should be some bandages in the washroom.”
“Nice try, Dalh
art, but it didn’t amount to anything, and I’m more certain than ever the police aren’t about to come knocking at my door.” Rivera sat back down in his chair, apparently not in a hurry to get Aito patched up.
“Maybe not immediately, but they will.” Ellis’s pulse still pounded in his ears from the adrenaline of the gunshot. “People know I came here. If I don’t return, they’ll come looking. O’Hara, likewise, made it clear where she was headed. The son of your business partner, recently returned from the grave or not, and a police detective disappear after stating their intent to visit you? They’ll tear this place apart looking, and I left word with Clarence Vanderpool about just where to find Nyssa. She’s in the old lab, and from my understanding, you can’t get in after her. When the police arrive, they’ll find her, and they’ll want to know exactly why you’re keeping a seventeen-year-old girl locked in your attic.” He watched Rivera for a reaction, but the man didn’t flinch. “They’ll want to know where O’Hara and I are, and maybe you’ll be able to hide our bodies well enough that they won’t find us, but I doubt it.”
“You’re right …” Rivera tapped his fingers on his cane, his lips pursed but his face otherwise placid.
“Sir, if you don’t mind,” Aito said, his voice strained. “I would like to take care of this wound.”
“Wait a moment, Aito. I’m constructing a narrative.” Rivera leaned closer. “Miss Glass is a known thief. She wasn’t a captive, but rather an intruder. She was interrupted in her larceny by Aito and Detective O’Hara, both of whom she sadly killed.”
Aito started, his already pale face contorting in pain and shock.
“Don’t act so surprised, Aito. You know far too much about my business, and from the string of recent failures I’ve tolerated from you, I think your usefulness is at an end. Now where was I? Oh yes.” Rivera stood and paced, swinging his cane back and forth. “Thankfully, we managed to capture Miss Glass using the house security systems … which included an automatic release of poisonous gas if certain rooms are breached. Such a shame, but her life of crime always merited a sticky end.”
