Hero
Hero put one booted foot on the step and propped his forearm on his thigh. "What made you think that the gentleman who lived in Number Five was odd?"
The elderly housekeeper snorted. "No manservant. No chambermaid. No one to look after his clothes or cook his meals. Lived there all alone. Never knew a young man who could afford better to do for himself."
Hero glanced back toward the door of Number Five. "Were you here when they took him away?"
"Aye." The woman followed his gaze and shook her head. "A terrible sight it was. They brought him out all bound in one of them straight waistcoats like they use to bind the poor souls in Bedlam. The fine lady in the carriage was crying her heart out. Afterwards, everyone said they'd taken him off to a private asylum someplace in the country."
"Did the gentleman ever have any visitors while he lived in this street?"
"None that I saw," the housekeeper said. "But, then, again, he was only there for a few hours in the afternoons and early evenings."
Hero straightened and took his foot down off the stone step. "He didn't sleep there?"
"Never saw him come home until midday at the earliest. Figured he spent the nights at his club."
Hero contemplated the door. "Or somewhere else."
Josephine
Josephine smelled the damp, dank odour that told her she was underground before Parker removed the blindfold. When he untied the cloth, she opened her eyes and found herself looking at the interior of a windowless stone chamber lit with lamps mounted on the walls.
They had descended into this place in some sort of iron cage. Because her eyes had been covered, she had been unable to see the device, but she had felt the movement and heard the noise of the heavy chain that Parker had used to lower it. He had explained with great pride that only he knew the secret to operate the cage.
"There is a special lock that secures it, top and bottom," he had said. "One must know the combination to release it."
The low, vaulted ceiling told her that the room was very old. The gothic design was original, she concluded, not a modern decorator's notion of a fashionable interior. She could hear the faint sound of water dripping or lapping somewhere in the distance.
Several workbenches were arranged around the chamber. Each was laden with an assortment of instruments and apparatus. Some, such as the balance, microscope and burning lens, she recognized. Others were unfamiliar.
"Welcome to my grandfather's laboratory, Miss Langford." Parker gestured widely with one hand. "His collection of equipment and apparatus was excellent. But, naturally, by the time I arrived, they were all several years old. were still usable, but I have taken the liberty of replacing many of the instruments with more modern and more advanced devices."
Her hands were still bound in front of her, but Parker had untied the bonds that he had used to secure her ankles during the carriage ride.
At one point during the nightmarish journey, she had tried to throw herself out of the vehicle, only to discover that the door was locked and barred. When Parker had given his orders to the two ruffians on the box, she had quickly realized that there was no point appealing for help in that direction. The villains were clearly in Parker's employ.
"We did not travel far," she said, pointedly ignoring his verbal tour of the laboratory. "We must still be in London. Where is this place?"
She kept her voice very even, trying to sound as though she was in control of the situation. Whatever else happened, she would not let him see the terror that filled her heart. She would not give this madman that satisfaction.
"Very astute, Miss Langford. Yes, indeed, we are still in London. This chamber is located in a rather remote section beneath the ruins of an ancient abbey. Very few people live in the vicinity, and those who do are convinced the place is haunted."
"I see." She glanced around, surveying the shadowy corners of the room. It was not difficult to believe that spectres and phantoms lurked in this chamber.
Parker put his pistol down on a workbench and removed his coat. Beneath the well-cut coat, he wore a snowy white linen shirt and an elegantly made blue and white patterned waistcoat.
"My grandfather encouraged the local legends surrounding the abbey, and I have continued the tradition," he said. "it is useful for keeping people away from the place."
"Why have you brought me here?"
"It is a somewhat complicated tale, Miss Langford." He glanced at his watch. "But there is time to tell it." He walked to one of the workbenches and touched the large, malevolent looking machine that sat there. He stroked the device the way a man might stroke a lover. A terrible reverence glittered in his eyes. "It is a tale of destiny."
"Rubbish. No serious student of science speaks of destiny."
"Ah, but I am more than a serious student of science, my dear. I was born to be its master."
"Your grandmother was right. You are mad."
He gave a short, derisive laugh. "She certainly believes that."
"You have committed murder."
"Murder was only the beginning, Miss Langford." He moved his hand slowly, lovingly along a part of the machine that resembled the long barrel of a rifle. "Only the beginning. I still have a great deal more to do."
The manner in which he caressed the machine disturbed her. She looked away from his long, elegant fingers. "Tell me about your so-called destiny."
"There can be no doubt about it. Not any longer." He seemed to have become entranced by his machine. "Tiffin and I share a bond. Neither of us can avoid our fates."
"What do you mean?"
Parker took a small red velvet sack from his pocket and untied the thong that secured it.
"We have each inherited a legacy of murder and thwarted destiny. But this time around, matters will turn out much differently than they did last time."
Very carefully he removed a large red gem from the sack and slotted it into an opening on the side of the strange machine.
"What on earth are you talking about?" she asked, desperate to keep him talking.
"My grandfather and Tiffin's greatuncle were friends until they became fierce rivals. Eventually, the competition between them turned bitter. George Tiffin could not abide the fact that my grandfather was Newton's equal, you see. Called him mad. Mocked him."
"You have had your vengeance, haven't you? You murdered Herk's great-uncle."
"George Tiffin's death was an accident, you know. At least, I thought so at the time. I did not intend to kill him, not until after he had witnessed the success of my project. I wanted him to know that he was wrong when he jeered at my grandfather and called him a crazed alchemist. But the old man surprised me that night when he walked in on me while I was searching his laboratory."
"You were looking for the snuffbox."
"Yes. Jove's Thunderbolt requires all three of the stones, you see." He slipped the second dark gem into the device. "After George Tiffin was dead, I thought perhaps I had misinterpreted my destiny, but when I learned that Tiffin was hunting me, it all became clear. I understood at once that he, not the old man, is the one who is meant to witness my great success. It is perfectly logical."
"How is that?"
"George Tiffin and my grandfather lived in a different time. They were men of an earlier generation. They belong to the past. But Tiffin and I are men of the modern age. It is only fitting that the earl, not his ancestor, be the one to witness my triumph." Parker patted the machine "Just as it is right that I, not my ancestor, untangled the last mystery of Jove's Thunderbolt."
"Where did you discover this supposed destiny?"
"It was all there in my grandfather's journals." Parker eased the last stone into the machine, closed the opening and turned to look at her. "But like any good alchemist, Treyford often wrote in a coded language that is not easy to unravel. I made a few errors along the way."
"What makes you think that you have not made a huge mistake in bringing me here?"
"I admit that some parts of my grandfather's writings were quite murky. But they were all clarified when Fiennes Tiffin ensured that our paths would cross."
"You mean when he set out to find the man who killed his great-uncle?"
"Precisely. When I realized that he was hunting me, I understood at last that we were, indeed, destined to be opponents in this generation, just as George Tiffin and my grandfather were, all those years ago."
She understood now. "You have brought me here tonight because you knew that would be the simplest way to get Hero here and take him prisoner."
"You are a very clever woman, Miss Langford. Tiffin chose well when he went to the offices of Goodhew and Willis. It is a great misfortune for you that he dragged you into this affair. But that is how destiny works sometimes. It is often the lot of the innocent to play crucial roles as pawns."