A Study in Ashes (12 page)

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Authors: Emma Jane Holloway

BOOK: A Study in Ashes
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“But Magnus is dead,” Holmes mused. “Therefore, he is not a factor. The
Wyvern
was utterly destroyed.”

“But I think he
is
a factor. Or at least the consequences of what he did haven’t entirely faded away. Do you know about his automatons?”

“Yes.” Holmes’s face went dark. “Evelina told me.”

“Did she tell you that the one named Serafina held the spirit of Imogen’s twin?” Poppy shuddered, and she avoided
saying the name with an almost superstitious dread. She didn’t remember Anna, but her dead sister’s face stared out at her from old pictures. She was supposed to be identical to Imogen, but Poppy always knew which twin she was. There was something cold in the eyes and the smile, as if the angels had run out of souls before they got to her.

“No, she didn’t,” the detective said quietly.

“Evelina might not know. I think Imogen might have found out on the ship.” Poppy chewed her lip. “Imogen killed the automaton and then it burned up when the ship went down, so it was destroyed. But then what did Im’s last words mean?”

That made his eyes go unfocused, as if he was looking inward. “That is a very, very good question. There was no one else present when she uttered those words?”

“Just Tobias. Something happened to my sister, Mr. Holmes. I need to find out what it was so we can fix it.”

Holmes gave her a look that was unexpectedly kind. “You have met Evelina, so you are aware that I have experience enough not to underestimate young ladies. Especially those with promising minds.”

Poppy flushed. She’d never actually done all that well at school. She was too easily bored. “Thank you, sir.”

“I will do you the honor of being frank,” he said. “I am sure your suspicions are based on observation and not fancy, and there is in fact something real amiss with your sister. But I suspect that magic is a factor, and that is not my area of expertise.”

Magic was also highly illegal—a prejudice that the Steam Council promoted with all its money and power, mostly because they couldn’t buy, sell, or otherwise control it. Most convicted of using magic were burned to death or locked up in a remote laboratory for study. No wonder Holmes didn’t want anything to do with it. Who would willingly risk association with anything of the kind?

“I understand,” she said softly, her gaze shifting away.

“You misunderstand. You need someone with more ability to assess the situation. Have you heard of Madam Thalassa?”

Poppy’s eyes widened, hope reviving just as quickly as it had died. “Who hasn’t?”

Holmes gave a slight smile. “Madam and I have an understanding. My methods and hers are universes apart, although we are both highly effective at what we do. Our spheres of interest might not touch upon any point, but we do each other the courtesy of redirecting clients when they stray into the wrong camp. If I ask her to see your sister, she will come.”

“And she’ll be able to help Imogen?” Poppy said breathlessly.

Holmes held up a hand. “She will know if there is anything to be done. That is as much hope as I can give you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes!” For a moment she lost her poise, feeling as if she might weep and grin at once, but then ducked her head, wanting to get this moment right. “I’m so grateful for your time and assistance.”

“And now perhaps you can answer a question of mine.”

“If I can.”

“I understand the Scarlet King was here tonight. Did you see him?”

“I did. He’s gone now.”

The detective’s brows drew together. “What did he do while he was here?”

“He brought a mechanical bird that breathed fire and he offered me a peppermint. Then he argued with Mr. Keating. Why do you ask?”

“Like everyone else, I am curious about the attack on Westminster. I’ve been watching the possible perpetrators with interest. I do not think that he did it, though.”

“No?”

“No, but I do think he knows something.” Holmes seemed to catch himself. “You didn’t eat the peppermint?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. It is not common knowledge, but Reading dabbles in poisons. It’s how he got where he is today.”

Poppy felt her eyes going wide. “Are you quite certain, Mr. Holmes?”

He gave her a sidelong look. “I don’t trifle with such matters.”

“Then thank you for the warning.”

“My pleasure, Miss Roth,” he said gently. “As I said, I have great respect for young ladies. And now, if you will excuse me.”

He gave a slight bow, and she curtsied, and as quickly as that the encounter ended. He walked away, disappearing into the crush. She lingered in that spot for a moment, suddenly shaky as she reviewed the conversation. She was so glad she’d mentioned Imogen’s final words. That had meant something—but what?

And how was Madam Thalassa ever going to see Imogen? The woman was a renowned medium, but stayed in hiding in fear for her life. How did Holmes even know how to contact her? Poppy’s stomach knotted with uncertainty. She’d set something in motion, but was more than a little fearful of its end. If the law caught a psychic medium in the house, every member of the family would feel the Steam Council’s wrath. But there was no other way Poppy knew of to help her sister.

Poppy had a sudden, aching need to see Imogen. It struck so deep, she caught her breath. She didn’t care what her mother said; it was time to leave the party.

Poppy inched around the edge of the room, her skirts a ridiculous pouf of frills that seemed forever in the way of effective sneaking. Her mother, happily, was sunk deep in conversation with the Duchess of Westlake.

Poppy gained the hallway and began creeping toward the staircase. The spot between her shoulder blades prickled, wary of eyes that might spot her and drag her back into the stifling room.

The moment her feet touched the first tread, she bolted upstairs in a rustle of silk, past the longcase clock on the second-floor landing, and up to their bedrooms.

TOBIAS CROSSED TO READING IN THREE STEPS. HIS TEMPER
was still up after tossing out the drunken Scarlets, and heat surged through his blood as he stopped before the man. He was already furious and Reading hadn’t even opened his mouth yet.

“It seems your entourage has volunteered to be the entertainment,” Tobias said shortly. “I just removed two of your men for brawling in our private quarters.”

“I know. I was enjoying a pleasant conversation outside when they came tumbling down your steps. I came up here to apologize for their atrocious manners.” Reading sounded almost sincere. “I’m afraid they made rather too merry tonight. Not exactly cutting the dash I expect from my men.”

Tobias relaxed a degree, but it was a small one. All he wanted was for the Scarlet King to leave—although he wouldn’t have minded a closer look at his mechanical pet. “I accept your apology. Is there anything else?”

Reading nodded. “Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”

Tobias hesitated, his instincts prickling a warning. The man was Keating’s ally, but he was still a rival steam baron. That made any exchange complicated. Still, it was better to know what was on the Scarlet King’s mind. “My father’s study is below.”

Reading waved toward the stairs. “Lead on.”

Tobias complied, though he didn’t like the man walking behind him. It made the skin between his shoulder blades itch. He didn’t know Reading well, but he’d heard plenty of gossip. If half of it was true, the Scarlet King’s public face—
the smarmy, hedonistic lecher that had courted Imogen—was only one layer of the man’s personality. What lay below was even less appealing and far more dangerous. Tobias breathed a sigh of relief when he pushed open the study door and could turn to face his guest.

“Does that bird really breathe fire?”

Reading grinned. “Would you like a demonstration?”

“Perhaps not in the house. But I am told it is very fine.”

“Thank you. It is my intention to make a flock of them as a weapon against troublesome airships. The
Red Jack
had a flock of trained ravens that were a damned nuisance. It gave me the idea.”

Tobias remembered seeing Nick’s birds—huge black creatures that could blind a man with their talons. They’d fought as hard as the men. The grief that always followed memories of the battle seeped into the room, seeming to displace the air.

“How is your unfortunate sister?” Reading asked as he settled his bird on the mantel and peeled off his glove of silvery mail. “She was an exquisite beauty.”

Tobias’s shoulders stiffened. “Her condition remains the same.”

The man fell into a chair, a picture of elegant ennui. “Would it be possible to look in on her?”

“No.” Im had obviously loathed Reading. Now she was utterly helpless. There was no way Tobias would expose her to the man’s roaming gaze now.

“Pity. Such a lovely girl. I had half a mind to marry her.”

Tobias allowed himself a sharp smile. “And she had no reservations about turning you down, as I recall.”

“She would have come around. They always do.” The Scarlet King fingered his mustache, a look of irritation sharpening his features. Tobias remained perfectly still, though his muscles coiled to pounce. After the fight last night, and then the Scarlets, he was on something of a roll. He would have welcomed the excuse to smash the man’s face.

“But never mind all that.” Reading pulled out a silver cigarette case, flipping a lever on the side. A tiny metal hand
passed out a cheroot, which Reading took. Then the hand burst into flame long enough to light the tobacco.

Tobias sat, reminding himself that he was there to get information. “What might I do for you, Reading?”

Reading blew a cloud of smoke, and then leaned back and crossed his legs. “I want to know what it would take for you to come work for me.”

That was the last thing Tobias had expected to hear. It caught him off guard long enough for the Scarlet King to break into a laugh. “Oh, Mr. Roth, surely you know your own value. We all have makers, but you are the one with the real talent. And you are perfectly situated to give me exactly what I want.”

Not in a thousand centuries would I take your coin
. But despite himself, Tobias cast a glance at the metal bird. It really was exquisite, and it was no doubt the work of Reading’s own maker, a fellow named Hedgely. Was Tobias really the better craftsman? It was all he could do not to get up and examine the thing, just to satisfy his pride.

But he knew better than to fall into that snare. “I am flattered, but surely you realize that such a thing would be impossible, even if I desired it. My wife is Mr. Keating’s daughter.”

The Scarlet King shrugged. “There is no obstacle that cannot be removed.”

Tobias flushed. “I do not regard my wife as an obstacle.”

“As you like. I will pay you twice whatever Keating gives you.”

“Keating is the devil I know.” The Gold King was foul, but he was better than this man. His moral compass was severely twisted, but at least he had one.

Reading’s eyes glittered with challenge. “I would have thought you, of anyone, knew better than to trust that old Beelzebub.”

“What makes you think I won’t turn around and tell Keating that you’re wooing me?”

“He’d be surprised if I didn’t. This is just business.”

Tobias doubted that. Keating was very particular about loyalty. He was also the biggest and most savage dog in the
pack of curs that made up the Steam Council. If Tobias had to serve one of them, he preferred it to be the winner. “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

Reading smiled, showing broad, white teeth. “You’re not even curious to know how much I’d be willing to give you?”

“Money isn’t everything. I’m curious to know why you’re set on challenging the Gold King all of a sudden. I would have expected more subtlety.”

“The moment that brass bug hit the clock, Keating’s star began to set. Now is the moment to press my advantage.” The Scarlet King rose. “Take this rope I’m throwing you, Roth. It may be the only thing that keeps you from sinking.”

Tobias stood, refusing to let Reading stand over him. “I’m perfectly content in my position.”

“And I want you to stay there. Perhaps I was not being clear. Stay with Keating, but work for me.”

“You want me to spy?” Tobias’s voice was flat with incredulity.

“Catch up, Mr. Roth. I want to know exactly what Keating’s planning.”

Tobias’s mouth went sour with repugnance. “Get out.”

He reached for the Scarlet King’s arm, but Reading caught his hand in a grip as strong as an iron grapple. He pushed Tobias away as he might an importunate mutt. Tobias stumbled and caught himself against the desk.

Reading raised his eyebrows, mocking. “I know you are Keating’s
intensely loyal
maker, but it is still only proper to show some civility to someone of my station.”

Tobias’s voice sank to a growl. “Leave, or I will throw you out myself if I have to. In fact, I beg you for the opportunity.”

Reading gave a low laugh. “I’d like to see you try. Keating will have your head, at the very least. He’s set on being my ally, for all his snarling.”

“He won’t be your ally for long.”

“You mean to tell him about this conversation? Be my guest. What I have to offer him is worth more than any annoyance he might feel about a bit of poaching.”

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