The Cogspeare Conspiracy (The Cogspeare Chronicles Book 1) (29 page)

              “Well Magnus, I hate to say it, but you really botched that up,” said the invalid as he sipped a very full snifter of fine cognac.

              “What are you talking about?” came the tired reply from the depths of an overstuffed chair.  Quintus rolled his eyes.

              “Minerva, of course. Really, the first woman to show any interest in you, and you have to ruin it by being so…ethical” he ended as though spitting out something slimy.

“She was the one who started it!”

              “Oh, very mature. So, what are you going to do about it?”

              “Nothing! I have to prepare for the case tomorrow.” But he made no move to get out of his chair, instead taking another swallow of the amber liquid. “Besides, what can I do?”

              “For one thing, you shouldn’t be here wallowing like some love-struck calf!” exclaimed Erasmus as he helped himself to his third, or was it a fourth, drink. “You’re an embarrassment to the Cogspeare men. You should be out there, breaking more hearts,” he looked over at his elder brother, “or at least, trying to.”

              “Erasmus is right,” nodded Quintus, “you should both go out together.” Erasmus and Magnus looked at each other, and then both said,

              “No!”

              “Why not? It’s a capital idea. Erasmus, you can go out and have some of your horrible gin, and show Magnus what to do when a woman throws him over because of his lack of sensitivity. You must have plenty of experience with that.”

              “There is absolutely no chance of my going out with him. He can take Amadeus, or Declan, or Sebastian!” Quintus smiled, and said in a hushed tone,

              “Amadeus is at church, Seb is too young, and Declan refuses to do any more outings with the family until further notice; he said the outing with Mother this morning was traumatizing.”

              “There is no chance in hell that we will go out together,” Magnus said finally.

              And that was when his invalid brother pulled out the modified dart gun and aimed it at them.

              “What the hell?” exclaimed Erasmus. “What are you going to do, shoot us if we don’t go out?” he guffawed. Quintus smiled a sinister grin and pulled the trigger. The dart struck the chair Erasmus was perched on and quivered.

              “These are my favourite trousers!” he cried, yanking out the dark from where it pinned him to the chair.

              “And that was a warning. Now, go out and frolic, have some fun for me, and I’ll be here, waiting, until you get home. And I don’t want to see you before midnight at the earliest.”

              As the brothers quickly left the room to get their coats, Magnus asked, “Are you sure that you didn’t knock something loose in his brain during the surgery?”

              “Not entirely.”

              It was a soft night that they wandered into, and though they didn’t speak, it was silently agreed that Erasmus would lead the way.

              As they approached the East End, Magnus noticed that his brother’s demeanour changed; he became stealthier, stronger, and even darker.

              “You seem to know this place better than Mayfair.” Erasmus shrugged. “How is that even possible?”

              “One night a couple of years ago, I saw a toff- that’s what they call the aristocrats here- get ambushed. I realized that if I continued coming here I would either have to blend in or be killed. Watch your shoes there,” he sidestepped a noxious black pool that Magnus didn’t even want to think about.

              “So, why do you keep coming here?” But he never got a reply, as Erasmus pulled him to the side and began to undress him. “What the hell are you doing?”

              “You’re overdressed, brother, and you’ll get us noticed. Now,” he undid Magnus’s waistcoat buttons, pulled off his tie and mussed his hair, “that’s better. Now, just follow me and don’t say a word. You’d probably antagonize someone.”

              Erasmus led the way around the corner and after a few more turns they stopped in front of his favourite haunt, the Brass Balls.  The visible fumes that assaulted them as he opened the door made Magnus stagger back, but he yanked his brother back inside.

              “Is this hell?” he asked with a mixture of wonder and terror.

              “Close enough. Come on,” he pulled him forward. They wove their way between the low-lying couches, where men and barely-dressed women were lounging, limbs entangled, drinking from old jars filled with neon liquids and puffing on glass pipes that let loose plumes of blue smoke.

              “Jesus, Erasmus,” Magnus grabbed his arm, “this is a rose garden, for God’s sake. How much do you smoke?”

              Magnus wasn’t referring to an English garden in the outdoors. A ‘rose garden’ was a den where patrons could smoke Azure Rose, a species of blue, psychedelic and hallucinogenic rose found only in rural parts of China.

              “I don’t smoke Azure Rose, Magnus. That’s rather beyond the bubble, even for me” he replied, shaking his head at how little his brother knew him. Instead, he led him to the bar where Mr. Mister came up and smiled his silvery grin.

              “This is Mr. Mister, Magnus, and don’t say a damn word.”

              “You do realize that his name is redundant, right?”

              “And this bein’ one o’yo bros, eh mon?” Magnus stared, then said under his breath,

              “Translation, please?” Erasmus elbowed him hard, and instead said,

              “Aye, mon, ‘tis. Lookee, him nil with the birds, so donay us a couple and we’ll parlay no mo’.”              Again, that toothy grin, and Mr. Mister fixed them two jars filled to a slopping brim with tangerine liquid.

              “Ah, thank you,” nodded Magnus as he took a tentative sip. Suddenly, Erasmus’s hand was on the back of his throat, making him convulsively swallow.

              “Swallow it or we won’t live to regret it.” Magnus convulsively swallowed, and then spat out, “I have to wonder why I’m here with you.” Erasmus took a full swallow, then smacking his lips, replied,

              “Because you’re defending an immoral bastard for filthy lucre, you lost the love- and traitor- of your life, and, lest we forget, your brother held us at dart-point.”

              “He’s your brother too.”

              “Not when he shoots my favourite pair of trousers.” They then meditatively sipped the beverage that tasted vaguely of copper and was 96.7% alcohol.

              “So, you got a taste for this up North? This is made from the Copper Heather, isn’t it?” Erasmus merely nodded, finished off his drink, and then slapped Magnus on his back- making him spray out the tiny sip in his mouth. Mr. Mister glared at them for dirtying his perfectly grimy bar.

              “Come on, old chap, time to get you over that Minerva-woman.”

              “Oh, and how would you suggest I do that?” Erasmus began dragging him towards the back of the room, towards a tiny staircase.

              “Like any other man with a pulse; have at another woman.”

              “What?!”

              “I told Mr. Mister that you haven’t had experience, so you’d like to have some…quality time with the ladies upstairs.”

              “You’re giving me to a whore?!” Erasmus smiled grimly.

              “It’s not like I’m using you as a human sacrifice. I thought this would make you feel better.”

              “Oh? And you pay for it as well?”

              “It’s always on the house for me,” he grinned. They had reached the top of the stairs and faced a long, narrow corridor, with terribly thin walls.”

              “I think I may be ill.”

              “I thought the same thing when I…No, no, wait a minute, that wasn’t it. I had had a bad batch of Heasky” he named the heather-based drink. “Now, get in there and have some fun.” He thrust Magnus forward, and the only options for the now inebriated Magnus were to either slam into the door or open it. He opened it and screamed.

              “What? Do I have to show you every-…oh, shit.” Erasmus and Magnus stood woodenly for a second, taking in the horrific sight. A young woman with curly blond hair was sprawled on the floor, a pool of blood spreading out from her head.

Erasmus broke from his daze first, dashing over and gathering her up to place her on the bed. He gave her a cursory examination and then began pulling bits of medical equipment out of his pockets.

“Will she live?” asked Magnus hesitantly. 

“Yes, should do, though she’ll have a bad bump on her head. Jesus, Mr. Mister,” he addressed the barkeep who had silently appeared behind Magnus, “what the hell kind of place are you running?”

“I didn’t hear nufink. And me patrons aren’t paticler.”

“By the amount of blood, I’d say was attacked and left to bleed out here. Did you see anyone carry her in?” he began bandaging her head with remarkably clean gauze.

“Noam, but a feller comin wit his poorly sis,” he raised his eyebrows, showing what he thought of that tale.

“Did-” began Magnus, “Did you know him?” Mr. Mister shook his head. And since he didn’t want to leave the bar for too long, he simply slipped back into the corridor shadows again.

Just then the girl began to stir and Erasmus propped her up.

“Lily?” Magnus exclaimed. Even as she clutched her head and swore with enough vehemence to make a miner blush, she looked over to Magnus and then up at Erasmus, contritely.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Cogspeare, Mr. Cogspeare.”

“What the hell happened to you, Lily? And why did you disappear?” Magnus came and sunk onto the filthy bed with a slight grimace.

“I’m so sorry, truly,” she repeated, “it’s just that Mr. Youngblood hired me to get close to all of you, so I met you here,” she nodded to Erasmus, “and let you pick me up to take into your household. After all I’d heard I knew it would be easy. But then I entered your service, and it was so wonderful,” she snivelled.

“What happened, Lily?” this firmly from the student doctor, wiping her nose with a spare bandage.

“I reported to Lord Clinton, like I was told to by James- I mean, Mr. Youngblood, and since I couldn’t tell them nothing no more, he said James should get rid of me. He dragged me out of the big building and hit me on the head, and then everything…” she waved her hand, indicating she knew nothing more.

“Lily, if you aren’t telling us the full truth here, things will go very, very badly for you. Why were you sent to spy on our family?”

“I wasn’t sent to spy on them. I was sent to spy on him,” she nodded her head at Magnus, then regretted it. “I was supposed to see to it that he was always loyal to Lord Clinton and that he didn’t look too deeply into the miners’ case, particularly into that strange illness. And when you did, that’s when Persuasion was sent after the miner who visited you.”

“Persuasion? Any last name?” asked Magnus.

“He doesn’t need one” Erasmus shot back.

“Come on, Magnus, we’d better get her home.” He looked over to his brother. Magnus was deathly pale.

“I couldn’t, sir, I’m too ashamed. Thank you for patching me up, but I’ll be on my way now.” She stood up, but before she could take a step, Magnus gripped her arm painfully.

“You are not going anywhere. You are coming home with us to get cleaned up and have a good meal and a decent night’s sleep. Because, unless you want to be prosecuted and thrown in prison- which wouldn’t go well for a woman like you- you are going to testify tomorrow.”

The hard glint in his eye, the firm resoluteness in his voice made Erasmus almost proud. Though unfortunately his brother’s virtue was still intact, he had known it had been a capital idea to come to the Brass Balls.

Chapter 69:

              “Did you find the aetherologist ?” was the first thing Minerva said when she entered the large main room of Gray, Grey and Black. Dolt looked up from the paperwork surrounding his desk.

              “No,” he positively drooped with depressed defeat, “but I have been studying the notes you gave me and-”

              “Good Lord, Mr. Dolt!” Minerva slammed her heavy reticule on his desk, exasperated, “notes won’t mean a jot when you’re in that courtroom tomorrow and don’t have witness of credibility or substance.” Before she could continue her tirade they heard someone else in the hallway, then a knock on the door. Dolt blanched.

              “Don’t worry, Mr. Dolt,” Minerva went over to open the door. “I’ve brought reinforcements.”