The Zeppelin Deception Read online

  I’d save my fury for Pix.

  Without another word, I strode to the secret door that led to the underground lair.

  “Go on down, then, Molly-Sue,” the barkeep said as I disappeared through the door. As if I needed his permission.

  I steamed my way through the tunnel, pushing through cobwebs and avoiding skittering mice and rats without hesitation. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Pix.

  The door, with its special three-lock combination, brought me up short. It almost made my anger with the rogue soften. After all, the combination was made up of three sets of numbers that were specific to me: my birthday, the date of the first time I met Pix, and the address of Grantworth House.

  Unless he’d changed them.

  Which, I soon discovered, he hadn’t. That fact might also have eased some of my ire toward him, but not much.

  The locks clicked pleasantly and the trio of bolts shot open. I gathered up my fury and pushed through the doorway, erupting into the room in another great swirl of cloak.

  “Well it’s about time,” came a familiar, snippy voice. “I’ve been wait— Evaline?”

  Miss Holmes

  ~ Wherein Things Do Not Happen at All as Anticipated ~

  I could only gape at Evaline and she back at me for the first moment of our unexpected reunion. It was one of the rare times I could remember being taken completely by surprise.

  “Where’s Pix?” she demanded at last, looking around. “And why are you dressed in trousers?”

  The only way to describe her expression was that fire blazed in her eyes. It might sound clichéd, but common phrases are common for a reason. Clearly, Evaline was incensed—and just as obviously, she was aware the miscreant had escaped from jail.

  I found my voice. “He’s not here. I thought you were him.” My tone was cool and frosty. After all, the reason she and I hadn’t seen each other for months was because of her.

  “He’s not here?” This seemed to calm her a trifle. One might say, if one were prone to continuing the hackneyed description, that the fire in her gaze was banked.

  “No.” I eyed her, wondering how to proceed.

  I wanted to demand answers from her, to expose my own anger and frustration—and perhaps a bit of hurt, but that was only a small portion of the emotion I was experiencing—due to her rude silence over the last two months. But I feared that I might…well, that I might say too much. My emotions were rather high and out of control, not at all Holmesian at the moment. I needed to bank my own fire.

  “And, to answer your question, as I’ve been wearing a number of disguises over the past several days, I’ve discovered how incredibly comfortable trousers are,” I informed her.

  Once convinced that I had spoken the truth that Pix wasn’t present, Evaline returned her attention to me. The fury in her eyes was merely smoldering now, and she was biting her lower lip. I’d never seen her do such a thing before, and I could only conjecture that she was uncertain or upset about something.

  Well, that made two of us.

  And, as it happened, we both spoke at the same time.

  “I never got your message until today.”

  “I can only imagine what would bring— What?” For the second time in a matter of moments, I was taken by surprise. “You didn’t?”

  “No, Mina. I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry—it had fallen down behind the table in the front hallway. No one noticed it. I only just discovered it a few hours ago.” Not only was the last of the flame gone from her eyes, it had clearly been extinguished by the dampness glittering there.

  (I believe it’s no longer necessary to continue with the fire metaphor; as a literary device, it is becoming rather tiresome.)

  “I see.” All at once, I felt remarkably lighter.

  “And I didn’t write to you because— Well, at first I was so caught off guard by the engagement announcement—and then I didn’t hear anything from you, or so I thought—that I…I got mad.” Her voice was very nearly pleading. “I suppose I was sulking a bit.”

  “Never mind that, Evaline,” I said briskly. My throat was suddenly scratchy, and there must have been a dust speck in my eye, for I found I needed to blink rapidly. “We have many things to discuss, some of which are long overdue.”

  “Yes we do—including how quickly you can put together a costume for my birthday masquerade on Friday.” She smiled, and I knew the rift between us had gone quite a distance toward healing. I confess, I was grateful for its quick repair, for I’m not one to cogitate over apologies and hurt feelings and imagined slights, especially when there is work to be done.

  Including, apparently, devising attire for a masquerade fête in three days. Of course I was up for the challenge.

  There were so many other topics I wanted to raise, but one phrase she’d uttered had lodged in my head. “Did you say you were caught off guard by the engagement announcement?”

  Her expression tightened. “Yes. Bram, Florence, Ned, and Sir Emmett all knew about it—but I didn’t. Not until the next morning, after all the—after The Crow—when Florence showed me the papers.”

  “How extraordinary,” I said, outraged. “How extraordinarily terrible of them.” My mouth was tight, and I suspected my own eyes were now blazing.

  Evaline’s face softened. “Oh, Mina,” she said, and I thought she was about to burst into tears. But, fortunately, she managed to contain herself. “Thank you for saying that. I had no one—no one I could talk to.”

  “I should have written again,” I told her. “I should have suspected something wasn’t right. It was my fault as much as it was yours.” With those words, the heavy weight inside me eased even more. Then I realized something else—something that horrified me. “Did you mean to say that you didn’t know the announcement was going to be published—or that you hadn’t agreed to an announcement at all?”

  Her eyes were wide and dark, brimming with emotion. “I don’t believe I actually ever agreed to marry Ned. I just got sort of swept up in things, and the next thing I knew, the news was in the papers.”

  “That’s despicable. How dare they do that to you, Evaline!”

  She shrugged. “I don’t see that I had any other choice, things as they are. And Ned is a nice man. I’ll never have to worry about being evicted from my house ever again. Now, let us talk about what you’re doing here. I should have known this is where you would hide out.” Her smile was a little forced. “What’s all this about a murder charge?”

  “Of course I didn’t murder anyone,” I said unnecessarily. “Although someone has gone out of their way to make it appear that I have. The Ankh, of course.” I went on to explain all of the evidence that had been manufactured to point to me as guilty. “But Grayling agrees that it’s ludicrous to think I had anything to do with—”

  “Grayling? You’ve spoken to him? When I saw him yesterday, he said you hadn’t seen him for months either.”

  “You spoke to Grayling as well?” My heart gave a little thump and I wasn’t certain what it meant.

  “Of course. When I learned about the constables trying to arrest you, I went to see him right away to find out what on earth was happening. I knew something was wrong.”

  “That was very kind of you, Evaline.” I was truly touched. “What did he—er—say?”

  “He didn’t know anything about it, and he was quite upset to learn that you’d been accused. He and I both had a bit of a chuckle, imagining you walking out of your house right in front of the constables.” She tilted her head, looking at me carefully. “I was surprised that you hadn’t told him about it, and that you hadn’t spoken to him in months.”

  I looked away, the corners of my mouth tightening. “It seems to be a recurring event that once he kisses me, a man…er…doesn’t appear eager to do so again. To be fair, I don’t particularly want to kiss Dylan again either—”

  “Are you saying you’ve kissed Grayling?”

  I felt my face go very hot. “Never mind that, Evaline, we—”
r />   “Oh no,” she said. Her eyes were positively dancing. “You and Grayling kissed? And then what happened?”

  “Why are you so gleeful about it?” I snapped. “Just like it was with Dylan—the man kissed me once, and then…it was as if nothing happened.” My throat felt scratchy again. “It doesn’t matter in the least. We have a far larger problem to attend to—”

  But Evaline was not to be put off. She talked right over me. “When did you kiss him? How did you like it? I’ve been waiting for this to happen for months!”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Mina, tell me what happened.”

  I examined my fingers as I spoke. My nails needed attending. “It was the night at The Carnelian Crow. There was a moment when it appeared—to him, anyway—that I was in danger. When it turned out that I was perfectly fine, he seemed rather…emotional…about the event, and the next thing I knew, he was embracing me. And then…” My cheeks burned again.

  “And then he kissed you.”

  I glanced up at the chortle in her voice. Evaline was positively beaming, and I wanted to slap her.

  Why was she so thrilled about my humiliation? Perhaps it was better that we weren’t partners any longer. I’d forgotten how impetuous and silly she could be at times.

  “Indeed,” I said in a firm, brook-no-nonsense tone. “And that was the extent of it, Evaline. Clearly, I didn’t do it correctly or meet his expectations, or—or something.”

  Evaline was shaking her head during this speech, that gleeful, annoying smile twitching her lips. “Oh, no, Mina. It had nothing to do with you. It was Dylan.”

  “Dylan? What on earth does Dylan have to do with anything?”

  She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Sometimes you are utterly cog-headed, Mina. Grayling thinks you’re in love with Dylan, and so when he saw that Dylan was back from the future—and after you threw yourself into his arms, might I remind you—he stepped aside. Literally and figuratively.”

  I stared at her. “That is utterly— Why, I’ve never heard anything so… Well. Evaline. I confess, that’s one of the most interesting theories I’ve ever heard. But it’s utter rubbish.”

  “So you’ve been seeing quite a bit of Dylan, then, I suppose,” Evaline said, watching me closely. “And Miss Adler.”

  “A bit,” I replied, choosing to focus on her second implied question. “Miss Adler has been keeping me quite busy with—well, with silly, rather boring tasks. Of course, I accept the challenges—if one can call them challenges—but they’re rather mundane. I can’t help but suspect she is merely trying to keep me occupied—but to what end, I cannot imagine. Do you know she actually engaged me to hunt down the pet ferret of one of the troubadours at court?”

  Evaline stifled a gasp of laughter, but, to her credit, she kept her expression fairly serious. “I’m certain you were quite up to the task. But surely you spoke with her after the night at The Crow. About why she and Dylan had been there, and what they were doing. Weren’t they attempting to identify the Ankh?”

  My lips tightened. “Only a bit. She was very closed-mouthed over it, and refused to give me any details other than—what did she say…that it was best to keep things quiet for a while. She used the term ‘possible international incident’ but declined to explain what she meant—although I could surmise it might have something to do with the Betrovians, since Lurelia was there. I found it quite frustrating, especially when Miss Adler claimed she never saw Lady Isabella while she was at The Carnelian Crow, nor anyone she could have identified as the Ankh.”

  Evaline’s expression seemed as skeptical as I felt. “But she at least has been keeping you busy with work for Princess Alix. The only contact I’ve received from her was a congratulatory note about my wedding and an acceptance for my birthday masquerade.” She sighed. “And what about Dylan? Surely you’ve been seeing him quite a bit now that he’s returned.”

  I drew back a little. “I’ve not been in touch with him recently.”

  “You haven’t? But you did talk to him after that night—that night when you realized he was at The Crow.”

  “I did. But I was rather put off by the fact that he’d been back in London—back in our time—for weeks without even attempting to contact me. And I had a severe talking-to with him about that lapse in judgment.”

  “I’m certain you did.” Evaline cleared her throat, but that arch smile was still playing about her lips. My hand itched to wipe it off her face. “So what did he say? Why didn’t he contact you once he returned?”

  “He claims he didn’t want to—what was the phrase he used?—‘blow his cover,’ I believe it was. He didn’t want to take the chance that someone would recognize him, or that I would somehow expose him when he was working at The Carnelian Crow with Miss Adler. She needed a partner to help her while she was working there secretly, and he doesn’t have any other connections in London—except for me.”

  “But he was so sad to leave you, Mina. He asked you to go with him. How could he not tell you he was back?”

  “I don’t regret for one moment deciding not to accompany him, as much as I would have loved to see the future, considering all the things he’s told me about it. I’ve come to realize that he and I don’t—wouldn’t—actually suit. Even if he did stay here in our time. The fact that he didn’t think to contact me made me realize that perhaps he didn’t care quite enough. And I confess, once he was gone, I missed him, but I most certainly didn’t pine for him. He—reminded me of my father. So caught up in his own business that he cannot attend to anyone or anything else around him.” I could hardly believe these blunt words, this information from deep inside me, was coming out so easily. I’d never had such an intimate conversation with anyone before. Except my mother, and even those conversations had been few.

  “The last time we spoke, he indicated that he would contact me the next day,” I continued. “But I’ve not heard from him—it’s been several weeks—and to be quite honest, I am simply unconcerned about the entire situation. I mean to say, I wish the best for Dylan, but clearly he has other things to attend to and I don’t believe I have the tendre for him that I originally thought I had.”

  “I see.” That smile was playing about the corners of her mouth again. “Perhaps you ought to mention this to Grayling the next time you see him.”

  “Mention what?”

  Evaline was mad. I was not about to have a conversation with the inspector about such a personal topic.

  Just then, the door rattled quietly in its moorings. I realized with a start that Evaline and I had been so shocked to see the other that neither of us had secured the entrance behind her.

  We looked at each other, and she mouthed, Pix.

  But just as the door began to swing inward, I heard a familiar bark.

  Miss Stoker

  ~ Like Master, Like Hound ~

  Inspector Grayling?” I stared at him. “How on earth did you—”

  “I suppose you must have followed her,” Mina interrupted calmly. “You and Angus— Down there, young sir, you’ll muss my trousers!” (She was speaking to the beagle, not the inspector.)

  “Good evening, Miss Holmes. I must confess, I did not expect to find you here.” The wildly excited Angus had surged into the room, along with his master. Both of them looked around with great interest.

  “You followed me?” I asked, glaring at him as I locked the door behind them. “I suppose you must have just waited, lurking outside Grantworth House after your visit. After you accused me of helping Pix to escape from jail.”

  “Aye, but I went to get Angus first. He might be a bit of a rakehell, but he’s got a good nose on him.” He bent his tall frame to pat the dog—who was looking absolutely adorable, as usual.

  Angus’s ears were far too large for the rest of him, and so were his paws. He settled down and began to chew on the edge of Mina’s shoe. I didn’t bother to point it out to her. Surely her Holmesian observation skills would tell her.

  “
I didn’t think you’d be leaving until it got dark,” Grayling admitted to me. “And I most certainly didn’t expect you to walk the whole way. But that made it all the easier for Angus to follow your scent. You do move rather quickly, Miss Stoker.”

  “I heard him bark as I left the house tonight,” I said, still giving Grayling a dark look. “I didn’t realize it was him.”

  “You helped Pix to escape?” Mina took charge of the conversation. “Evaline, why on earth would you do something so—”

  “I didn’t.”

  “No, I don’t believe she did,” Grayling said, still looking about with fascination. “Och, what a setup the bloke has here. Electricity all over the bloody place, of course. So comfortable, and the light is so clean and bright. Is that running water I see back there?”

  “You don’t believe I helped Pix escape? But you did earlier. What changed your mind?” I demanded.

  “It appears that Edison Smith—the man also known as Pix—was forcibly removed from his jail cell at Scotland Yard last night.”

  “Forcibly removed,” Mina muttered. “And he’s not returned here, to his secret hideaway, which would be the safest place for him should he be on the run. Even if someone was aware it existed, no one could find the location—except by following an unwitting person”—she gave me an exasperated look—“and even if they did, gaining access is impossible due to the special combination lock and the hidden doors.” She glanced at Grayling, who was eyeing her skeptically. She sniffed. “Of course, I was able to break the code on the door simply because of my deductive reasoning.”

  “And my birth date,” I reminded her smugly. “You wouldn’t have been able to get in the first time if I hadn’t been with you. It’s the tenth of February, Inspector, in case you were wondering. And I’m having a masquerade ball to celebrate it on Friday—I do hope you’ll attend.”

  “I see.” Grayling was looking at me with a jaundiced expression. “Dare I ask how you even were aware such a place existed, Miss Holmes and Miss Stoker?”