Page 10 of The Journal of a Thousand Years (The Glass Library #6)

CHAPTER 10

G abe’s father’s cousin, the widow of the manipulative Lord Coyle, lived in a modest flat with her adult son. Despite owning a Rolls-Royce—driven by the chauffeur rumored to be Valentine’s real father—she had found herself in reduced circumstances in the years following Lord Coyle’s death. Her son’s answer to their situation was to invest heavily in financial schemes I’d never heard of. From the look of their flat, his latest was yet to bear fruit. There was less furniture than on our last visit.

Willie picked up a shirt from the pile in the basket beside the table that was currently being used as an ironing board. The hot iron sat in its cradle out of harm’s way. “Someone steal your furniture, Hope? Or did the debt collectors catch up with you?”

Lady Coyle’s blue eyes flared with her fury. They’d once been her best feature, so I’d been told. Apparently, she’d been a beauty in her youth. But her blonde hair was now white, and her hourglass figure was shaped more like a barrel. Her lace dress only enhanced her age. It was at least a decade out of date.

She snatched the shirt from Willie. “I assume this isn’t a social call?” Her gaze flitted between the three of us. “Where’s Gabriel?” Her words slurred a little. It wasn’t the only evidence she’d been drinking. A bottle of gin sat on the floor beside a chair.

A door opened, revealing a bedroom beyond. Valentine, the current Lord Coyle, emerged wearing trousers and an undervest that had gone gray after years of use. His feet were bare. “Is my shirt ironed yet? Oh. You lot. What are you doing here?”

Willie regarded him, hand on hip. “Nice to see you, too, Val. Now, where is he?”

“Where is who?”

“Gabe.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. At home?”

“Don’t be cocky with me.” She pushed back her jacket to show her gun.

Valentine swore, making his mother wince. “Are you going to shoot me?”

“You, your mother… It depends on who I think is responsible for Gabe’s abduction.”

Valentine stared at her, his mouth ajar.

Hope bristled. “You think we abducted Gabriel? I always thought you were mad, but now I have proof.”

Willie was in no mood for exchanging insults. She wanted answers.

It was Alex who made the next move, however. He shoved Valentine in the chest, sending him careening over the sofa’s back, onto the cushion, and tumbling to the floor on the other side.

Hope gasped. “Get out!” she ordered Willie and me. “And take that savage with you.”

Willie placed the end of her gun to Hope’s temple. “I might be mad, and you might have been brought up a lady, but I got better manners than you.”

Valentine picked himself up and dusted himself off. He jutted his chin at Alex in defiance, but the moment Alex moved, Valentine scurried backward. He appealed to me. “Miss Ashe, what is all this about? Why am I being treated like a criminal? I don’t know anything about an abduction.”

“If Gabriel is in some sort of trouble,” his mother added, “we ought to be told. We’re his family.”

“A man matching your description was seen talking to a hired thug by the name of Mad Dog Mitchell,” I said.

Valentine tucked his undervest into his trousers. “That’s absurd. I’m an earl, for God’s sake. I don’t associate with men whose given name is Mad Dog.”

“You were seen talking to him at the Rose and Thorn pub.”

“I don’t know it.”

“Mad Dog and another man kidnapped Gabe from his bed last night,” Alex said.

“From his own bed?” Valentine echoed. “You mean you two were there and you didn’t stop them? Ha! Now that is amusing.”

Alex grabbed Valentine by the front of his undervest and forced him to sit on a chair.

Valentine shrank back, expecting to be struck. Alex simply stood over him, his hands closed into tight fists at his sides. He was keeping his temper in check, but only just. “You were seen at the pub talking to Mad Dog last night and the night before. Now, you can answer our questions from the comfort of your sofa, or you can answer Scotland Yard’s while sitting in a prison cell. The choice is yours.”

Valentine gulped.

“Where is Gabe?”

A bead of sweat dampened Valentine’s temple. “I don’t know! I swear to you, I’m not involved in any of this. If someone says they saw me, then they’ve made a mistake. I wasn’t anywhere near a pub called the Rose and Thorn on Thursday night. I can call on three people who can vouch for me.”

“Who?”

Valentine began to rub his thumbs over the fingernails of both hands. “I can’t tell you. They’re important people, and I… we…” He looked down at his hands and suddenly stopped fidgeting. “They’re married.”

Willie barked a laugh. “You want us to believe three women were desperate enough to be with you?”

Valentine blushed fiercely. “They weren’t women,” he muttered under his breath.

Hope covered her gasp with her hand. “Val! You told me you’d given them up.”

“Shut up, Mother.”

“What if you get caught? You’ll be arrested!”

“I happen to think it’s worth the risk.”

She pulled a face. “You disgust me.”

“The feeling is mutual, I assure you.”

Alex stepped back and indicated we should leave. Unless we were willing to shoot one of them, we wouldn’t get answers. I worried that Willie might be willing, but she followed us to the door, her gun tucked back into the waistband of her trousers. We would wait for Cyclops to interrogate Hope and Valentine officially, once the sketch artist’s drawing proved it was Valentine who met Mad Dog Mitchell.

Hope followed us to the door. “This is harassment. You three are no longer welcome back here.”

“I didn’t think I ever was welcome,” Willie said with mild indifference. “Alex, neither. You always made that real clear.”

“Matt will hear of this.”

“That’s true. I’m going to make sure he and India know what you and Val did. They’ll be back soon from America. Won’t that be nice? You can have a good family chat with him. Pity it’ll take place in prison.”

“You will regret your tone, Willie, when Valentine becomes rich from Mr. Ponzi’s scheme. We expect an enormous return on his investment any day now.” With straight back and flashing eyes, she was every bit the regal lady. I could imagine the men admiring her beauty and strength of character when she was younger. She rather ruined the effect when she looked down her nose at Willie, however. “You and my sisters will come crawling to us, begging for help. I look forward to turning you all away.”

“Val won’t make you rich,” Willie said with the most sympathetic tone I’d ever heard her use when speaking to Hope. “If he dragged you into his scheme to abduct Gabe, then you shouldn’t protect him. I know he’s your son, but he doesn’t even like you.” She touched the brim of her hat. “You know where to find us if you want to confess.”

As we descended the stairs, I asked Willie if she truly believed Hope would come forward with information.

She shook her head sadly. “I don’t think Val had anything to do with it, after all. If I did, the end of my gun would still be against his mother’s head until he talked. But I reckon he was telling the truth when he said he was with three men on the night the publican saw someone matching his description speak to Mad Dog.”

“So was the publican lying?” I asked. “Is he involved somehow?”

Willie shrugged.

It was Alex who responded. “I think we need to see the artist’s sketch. It’s possible we all jumped to the wrong conclusion because we wanted to believe it was Valentine. He would have been an easy nut to crack. The fact that he didn’t crack is why I agree with Willie. I don’t think he had anything to do with it.”

We called at Scotland Yard, but the police artist hadn’t returned, and Cyclops wasn’t there. Instead of becoming frustrated with waiting, we decided to visit Mr. Jakes at Military Intelligence. It wasn’t the best plan. Indeed, we had no plan unless directly asking him if he’d abducted Gabe could be considered one.

As we drove to the War Office building at Whitehall, I tried to think how we could trick or coerce Jakes. But by the time Alex pulled the motorcar to the curb to park, I had no ideas. My mind was incapable of plotting. Indeed, it was becoming consumed with the fog of my anxiety. Gabe had been abducted hours ago. He could have been subjected to all manner of awful things by now.

“Wait,” Willie said, grasping Alex’s arm as he was about to open his door. “That’s him.”

I followed her gaze to see Mr. Jakes exiting the building, cigarette in hand. Head bent into the breeze, he strode along the street. Although the area was busy with men wearing similar suits, I managed to keep track of him as he headed for the corner.

“Let’s follow him,” Alex said. “He could lead us to Gabe.”

As we hurried after Jakes, I was very aware of how conspicuous we were. If Jakes turned around, we’d be seen.

But he did not turn around. He continued walking north toward Trafalgar Square. Nelson’s Column was visible ahead, but Jakes didn’t cross over to it. Instead, he went right, dodging the traffic, before taking The Strand. The entire area was chaotic with vehicles—both horse-drawn and motorized—jostling for position as they approached the square. Jakes threw his cigarette stub under the wheel of a lorry without breaking his stride.

Moments later, Alex slowed his pace. “Where did he go?” His superior height meant he was in a better position to spot Jakes in the crowd. If Alex couldn’t see him then it meant we’d lost him.

Willie swore. “You were meant to keep an eye on him. Sylvia and I are too short. Now we’ll never know where?—”

Jakes stepped out of a recessed doorway and blocked our path. “Don’t reach for your weapons,” he said calmly. “There are too many witnesses.”

“Where’s Gabe?” Willie snarled.

“Why would I know where he is?”

“He was abducted.”

Mr. Jakes’s gaze slid to me. “I thought Miss Ashe was the one who was abducted.”

“She was, then she escaped, then Gabe was.”

“Sounds complicated.”

Alex stepped closer. He towered over Jakes, but Jakes simply tilted his head to peer up at him. If he felt intimidated, he didn’t show it. “Don’t make light of this. Gabe has been abducted, and you are a suspect.”

“I assure you, Military Intelligence are not in the habit of abducting Englishmen from their beds.”

“We didn’t tell you he was in bed. Only the kidnapper would know that detail.”

“I merely assumed, since you said it happened last night.”

“We also didn’t say the War Office sanctioned it,” Alex added.

Mr. Jakes arched his brows. “What are you suggesting?”

“That you did it with the help of a hired man for reasons of your own.”

“What reasons?”

“You think Gabe’s a magician, and you want to study him.”

Mr. Jakes barked a laugh.

I’d had enough. My nerves were stretched to breaking point, my head felt woolly, and I was tired and on edge, not to mention frustrated at our lack of progress. Mr. Jakes’s casual dismissal was the last straw. I moved up alongside Alex so that I was toe to toe with Jakes. Then I balled my hand into a fist and jabbed him in the gut.

He grunted, wincing.

I stepped back. “Next time, it will be your bollocks.”

Willie clapped me on the shoulder. “You continue to surprise me, Sylv.”

I didn’t take my eyes off Jakes. “Some time ago, you came into the library and asked to see books about magic mutations because you assumed Gabe’s luck could be explained that way. Nobody believes you’ve suddenly stopped being interested.”

Mr. Jakes went to remove something from his inside jacket pocket, but Alex caught his wrist. “I’m just reaching for my cigarettes.”

Alex released him and Jakes pulled the gold case out. He offered Alex a cigarette. Alex simply glared at him.

Mr. Jakes lit the cigarette and took his first puff. “It’s true,” he said, blowing out smoke as he spoke. “I do want to study Glass and his magic. Don’t bother to deny it or pretend he’s just lucky. No one is that fortunate. I know he can perform magic to save himself and others. What I don’t know is how it works. His mother couldn’t do it, nor her ancestors, as far as we know, which leads us to the theory of mutation. His mother received an unprecedented dose of magic while she carried him in her womb, so the theory isn’t completely wild.” He took another puff. “But even my department draws the line at abducting members of the British aristocracy to get answers.”

He drew on his cigarette again, the action languid. He was so unruffled that I began to wonder if he was acting. No one would be that cool with a furious tower of muscle standing before them, alongside an armed madwoman and another woman stretched to her limit.

Mr. Jakes pointed his cigarette along The Strand. “You’re welcome to continue following me. I have a dentist appointment.” He touched his jaw. “A molar has been giving me trouble.”

When none of us moved, Jakes took a step away from Alex, as if testing what he’d do. He addressed me, however. “Oh, Miss Ashe, I want to thank you again for bringing in Hobson. He has been most helpful. He claims he did nothing wrong, but further investigation will reveal the truth.”

“Have you found Mrs. Hobson or Ivy?” I asked.

“Not yet.”

“What will happen to Bertie?”

“That depends on what the factory’s paperwork reveals, and also what his mother says.”

“If you find her.”

“We’ll find her. Women like her don’t hide forever. They get lawyers.” He walked off, but stopped once again and turned back to us. “Odd how Glass has gone missing at the same time as his former fiancée and her mother, just one day after you were also abducted, Miss Ashe.”

Willie charged after him. “What are you suggesting?”

Alex grabbed her and stopped her from making a scene in public. The last thing we wanted was for her to be arrested.

Mr. Jakes put up the hand that held the cigarette. “I’m suggesting you should look to the Hobson women if you want to find Glass. Not me or my department.” He plugged the cigarette between his lips and sauntered away.

Willie blew out a long, ragged breath. “I can’t stand that smarmy smile of his. Next time I see it, I’m going to wipe it off his face with my fist.”

Alex headed back the way we’d come, a determined set to his jaw.

I hurried after him. “Where to now?”

“We should go home to see if Gabe returned. Our best chance of finding him is there, not running over the city chasing our tails.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because he’s more than capable of escaping imprisonment.”

Willie agreed. “If you can do it, Sylv, then it’ll be easy for Gabe.”

“I escaped because my captors didn’t know I was a magician. In Gabe’s case, they do, or they suspect. They’ll be more prepared. He also can’t use his magic at will.”

It was a sobering thought, one that kept us silent all the way to Park Street.

Gabe had not escaped. He was not at home, waiting for us with a smile and warm embrace. The concern on Bristow’s face when he opened the door was enough to tell us that.

I burst into tears.

It wasn’t Alex, Willie or one of the servants who comforted me, however. It was Daisy. She drew me into a hug and stroked my hair until my sobs subsided. Then she led me into the drawing room.

I looked up to see Huon and Petra had joined her. Huon handed me a handkerchief. I’d never seen him look so grim.

Petra clasped my hands. “We couldn’t settle all morning. We arrived a little while ago. Mrs. Bristow has been kind enough to serve tea.”

Daisy directed me to sit on the sofa, then sat beside me. “Mrs. Ling made cake. Do you want a slice?”

“I can’t eat,” I muttered.

“Me either.” Her gaze lifted to Alex. “Can I do anything to help?”

Alex sat on a chair and rested his elbows on his knees. He dragged a hand over his head but did not look up from the floor. “No.”

Daisy pressed her lips together as her eyes welled with tears. I suspected she wanted to go to him, but the distance he’d maintained since meeting her parents made her hesitant. She obviously didn’t know how she’d be received.

Willie cut into the cake. “I love lemon drizzle.” She placed a slice on a plate and sat in another chair before taking a large bite.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I asked Daisy.

“It’s my half day on Saturdays. I worked this morning.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “After reading the note you’d slipped under my door, I couldn’t concentrate anyway.” She tucked my hair behind my ear. “I am glad you haven’t disappeared, but I wish Gabe’s kidnapping wasn’t the reason why you changed your mind.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Daisy. I doubt I’m the only one happy to see you.” I looked pointedly at Alex, who was trying so hard not to look at Daisy that it was obvious that he really wanted to. “And you?” I asked Petra, seated on my other side. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“My mother sent me home when I kept making mistakes. I returned to Huon’s place, then we met Daisy when she finished work. We updated her on Gabe’s abduction and decided to come here. If we can’t help search, then at least we can offer support.” She took my hand again and gave me a wan smile.

Bristow had been hovering in the doorway and now cleared his throat. “Detective Inspector Bailey informed me he would return at intervals throughout the day. He asked me to inform you that if you returned before him, you are all to remain here.”

“We have no reason to leave at this point,” Alex said. “We’ve reached a dead end.”

Willie flopped back into the chair with a sigh, like a restless boy told to play indoors.

Bristow narrowed his gaze at her.

“What?” she snapped at him.

“Shall I have Mrs. Bristow brew more tea?”

“I don’t want tea. I want something stronger.”

“There’s brandy in the decanter.” He indicated the drinks trolley with the crystal decanters and glasses. Then he left, closing the door behind him.

Alex sliced himself some cake. “Being stroppy with the servants isn’t going to make you feel better, Willie.”

“He was looking at me oddly.”

“He wasn’t. Let him do his job. It’ll help take his mind off Gabe.”

She shot to her feet. “And what’ll help us?” She began to pace back and forth. “I’ve got to leave again. This house is stifling.” She strode toward the door.

“My father asked us to stay, so we’ll stay. He might have news.”

Willie changed direction and strode to the drinks trolley instead. She poured herself a glass of brandy without offering a drink to anyone else, then sank into the armchair with another heaving sigh.

“Perhaps Cyclops has good news,” Daisy said hopefully.

None of us believed that. If he had good news, he would have informed Bristow.

The butler returned a few minutes later with Mrs. Bristow. She carried a tray with a teapot and extra cups and saucers. Usually, Murray carried the trays. Bristow rarely attempted it since his shaking hands made the contents rattle.

“Where’s Murray?” I asked as she set the tray down.

“Helping the police. He misses the work and Detective Inspector Bailey said he could assist them, since he’s trained.” She paused and glanced at Willie, then back to me. “Shall I pour, Miss Ashe, or would you prefer to do it?”

How odd that she would ask me. As the lady of the house in the absence of Lady Rycroft, Willie ought to be giving the staff instructions.

Willie didn’t like being supplanted. Or perhaps she didn’t like being supplanted by me , Melville Hendry’s daughter. She took a sip from her glass, glaring at me as she did so.

“You do it, Mrs. Bristow,” I said.

Mrs. Bristow poured the tea then left, followed by her husband who once again closed the door behind him.

Willie pointed at it. “There! Did you see that? He gave me a look.”

Alex reached for his cup of tea. “Probably because he finds you annoying.”

“That can’t be it. I’ve been annoying for years, and he’s never given me strange looks before.”

“We all reach the end of our tether at some point.” Alex sipped his tea then placed the cup back on the saucer. He got up and went to the drinks trolley. “Anyone else need a brandy?”

We all declined.

Daisy watched him, her brow deeply furrowed. With his back to us, Alex didn’t notice.

His hand suddenly shook, causing him to spill the brandy on the trolley. “Blast.” He put the glass down with a heavy thud and lowered his head.

Willie started to rise, but Daisy was already on her feet. She placed a hand on Alex’s back. He turned and drew her into a fierce embrace, tucking her head under his chin.

Willie eased back into the chair and concentrated on her brandy. Despite their bickering, she clearly adored Alex as much as she did Gabe. It must be painful for her to see him distressed.

I would have tried to comfort her, but I doubted I would be welcome. Besides, I wasn’t sure I had the capacity to comfort others. I was sorely in need of it myself.

Petra took my hand again and squeezed. Standing behind us, Huon laid a hand on my shoulder. I gave them smiles, attempting to reassure them that I was all right. But I wouldn’t be all right until Gabe held me the way Alex held Daisy.

The knock on the front door had us all leaping to our feet. We couldn’t wait for Bristow to announce the visitor, so headed into the entrance hall to see for ourselves. It wasn’t Cyclops, however. It was the sketch artist.

“I hoped to find you here,” he said. “I returned to Scotland Yard, but D.I. Bailey didn’t return, so I decided to come here instead. I don’t think he’ll mind if I speak to you without him present.”

Alex invited him into the library. “We already have a suspicion about the redheaded man’s identity. Hopefully your drawing will confirm it.”

“In case you were wondering,” Willie added, “he’s an entitled idiot who won’t confess unless we present proof he was seen talking to Mad Dog. Mother’s orders.”

The artist eyed her warily as he opened his sketchbook. “The publican took a little prompting before he opened up, but he has a good eye for detail. I’ve made notes about coloring as that doesn’t come across in pencil.”

I expected Huon to remark on the superiority of ink and that his family could supply any color of ink, but he surprised me. “Miss Conway is a graphite magician. Her family makes excellent colored pencils using a binding agent they invented themselves. It enhances the durability of the core, and ensures the colored pigments adhere better to paper, compared to artless pencils. Naturally, Miss Conway can also use a spell in her pencils that make your drawings more vibrant.” He removed a business card from his jacket pocket. “Come to her shop and try them for yourself.”

Petra smiled sweetly at him.

The artist accepted the card. “Well?” he asked Alex. “Is it your suspect?”

Alex shook his head. “But he does look familiar.” He passed the sketchbook to Willie and me.

“That ain’t Valentine,” she said. “I don’t recognize him, though. You do, Alex?”

“I’m not sure.”

He looked familiar to me, too. The memory was so close, yet still out of reach. I wanted to scream in frustration. I pressed my thumb and forefinger into my eyelids until someone shook me by the shoulders.

A seething Willie filled my vision. “You know, don’t you?”

“I can’t quite remember,” I said.

“Think!”

“I’m trying, but you’re putting me off.”

Her lips pursed and she snatched the sketchbook off Huon who was studying it. She held the sketchbook at arm’s length and squinted. “It’s written here that the man was tall and strongly built, but not heavy or fat.”

“Those are the publican’s words,” the artist said.

“And he was pale with reddish-brown hair.” She grunted. “He said red hair to us.”

Reddish-brown hair. I’d heard someone described using those exact words. Someone who was also tall and strong. Someone who’d paid another man to throw balls of paper at Gabe at Epsom Downs racetrack. We’d concluded it had been a test to study Gabe’s reaction if a harmless projectile came his way. Later, bullets had been fired in what we thought was an escalation of the same experiment.

Alex remembered, too, and told the others about the incident. “I never saw the man; he was simply described to me.”

“But you said he looks familiar,” Willie pointed out. “You must have seen him somewhere.”

“It’s just a fleeting memory.”

If Alex and I had seen him, but Willie hadn’t… I tried to think of the places we’d been without her. Since the stabbing, Gabe had been watched closely by both his friend and cousin. The only times they let him out of their sight was when they thought he was safe, or he’d managed to slip away.

The stabbing…

I asked to see the sketch again. “I know who it is.”