The Spiritglass Charade (20 page)

“We'll make a party of it. Do say you'll come with us!” Willa looked hopefully at Mina and me.

“Of course. Mr. Treadwell, Miss Norton, it's a pleasure to see you again as well.” Mina gave a brief curtsy and I followed suit.

“Likewise.” The handsome young man extricated himself from Miss Norton's grip. He bowed to all of us, but his attention was on Willa the moment he lifted his head.

I was wrong. Mr. Treadwell wasn't at all torn between the two young women. He obviously preferred Willa Ashton. A quick look at the other young woman's dark, furious expression was all I needed.

Amanda Norton had shot to the top of my list of suspects, regardless of what Mina Holmes thought.

We joined the group and paid our fare. I'd even remembered to bring money. The entrance to New Vauxhall was through an ornate iron gate. It was flanked by tall shrubs and a stone wall, so that you could see very little of what was beyond until you stepped through. The gate led us into a tunnel-like entrance made of ivy and climbing roses so thick it would have been dark inside without the small lights.

As we walked through, Mina nudged me. “Talk to the cousin. See what you can find out about Willa, and anything else in that house.”

“
Me?
” The last thing I wanted to do was stay with this staid, boring group. I'd thought to slip off into the shadows the moment the opportunity arose. Dylan would be alone with Mina, which—from the way he'd been gazing at her, I thought he'd appreciate—and I could be on my way. “You're the detective. You're the one—”

She shook her head impatiently. “I intend to speak with Mr. Treadwell.” She took my arm and came closer so she could speak without being heard. “And observe Miss Norton and Aunt Geraldine in the meanwhile. You can—erm . . . charm Cousin Herrell. I have no doubt you can inspire him to talk. You're beautiful and vivacious, and you understand how to flirt and converse with a young man.”

I nearly tripped. Had she just complimented me—or was that a veiled dig? “Very well. But no complaining if I don't find out what you want to know.”

The timing was perfect, for we were exiting the tunnel of greenery and found ourselves inside New Vauxhall.

“My word.” Miss Ashton turned in a slow circle. “I've never seen anything like this.”

Our entire party had stopped to look around in amazement. I would have done so myself if Mina hadn't given me a shove toward Willa's cousin.

Even so, I noticed three moving walkways spiking out from the entrance like spokes on a half-wheel. Lights danced everywhere. They were attached to hundreds of hand-sized hot-air balloons, anchored to trees, posts, buildings, and even the ground. Stone walls, trees, and shrubbery loomed in every direction so you couldn't see very far down any particular path. Large gateways made of cogs and gears opened and closed to allow groups of people to enter in waves.

The moving walkways were wide enough for three people to stand abreast, and footpaths led into what seemed to be a clockwork fairytale land. Flowers bloomed everywhere, filling the air with a sweet, floral scent and covering up the unpleasant stench of London. Small mechanized butterflies and birds darted about, along with gear-ridden fireflies as big as my thumb. They cast small, colorful glows as they danced in the air.

Signs offered several options for entertainment. One pointed left to
animal curiosities
. Another to
medallion maze & clockwork labyrinth. river stroll & boat park.
jungle faire. carousel of the gods
. And
oligary's observation cogwheel
appeared to be straight ahead.

A faint mist lingered down one of the paths, and down another, tiny winking lights of pink, green, blue, and orange beckoned like little fairies. Mechanical fireflies. I could hear music in the distance . . . and in a different direction, applause and laughter.

“Evaline.” Mina jabbed me in the arm. She was strong for being a mere mortal female.

I refused to give her the satisfaction of rubbing the spot and pasted on my sweetest, most innocent smile.

“I'm so pleased to finally meet you, Mr. Ashton,” I said, boldly offering Willa's cousin my arm.

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Stoker,” he said, obliging by taking my hand and settling it loosely inside his elbow. “I'm delighted Willa has found some new friends. She became quite a hermit after Robby disappeared.”

Someone in the group, probably Mina, had chosen the path leading to
river stroll & boat park
. Blast. I'd wanted to see the
oligary's observation cogwheel
.

“It's a terrible thing. She doesn't want to give up hope that he can be found, but at the same time she must accept whatever it is and go on with life. But I'm certain you're doing everything you can to help find him.” Blooming fish . . . was that
my
voice? Syrupy and sweet?

“Indeed I am. I've spent nearly an hour every day walking about in Smithfield, asking if anyone has seen the young
man. I feel as if it's my fault.” Mr. Ashton shook his head sadly. “I shouldn't have—”

“What do you mean?” A spark of interest caught me. If there was a chance Robby
was
still alive, perhaps his cousin had information that could help.

Mr. Ashton looked down at me as if suddenly remembering he didn't know me very well.

“My goodness . . . I didn't realize how tall you are, Mr. Ashton. You must have excellent horsemanship.” I bumped gently into his side as we walked, coming closer to his person than was strictly proper. I smiled beguilingly up at him . . . and the tactic seemed to work, for his smile grew warmer.

“You're upset about Robby,” I prompted. “What happened?” The sooner I got the information Mina wanted—or at least
some
information—the sooner I could slip off and have some real fun. If there were any more vampires in London, surely at least some were here tonight.

I had three stakes on my person, along with a knife and a curious old weapon called a mace. It was only the size of a peach pit, studded with small spikes and hanging from a chain the length of my arm, but it could inflict some damage. With the number of people here and the dark walkways, I could only imagine how many pickpockets, thieves, and hopefully UnDead would be taking advantage.

Encountering that sort would be
my
preferred entertainment here in the gardens.

Mr. Ashton focused on the path ahead of us. “The truth is, I can't help but feel partially responsible for his disappearance. I used to take him with me to the boxing club. He liked to watch the fights. One night, he wanted to come with me, but I . . . well, that particular night, I had other plans that weren't appropriate for a boy of eleven. But he was stubborn and insisted on following me nevertheless. He hitched a ride on the back of my carriage! When I discovered he'd done so, I became angry and hailed a cab to take him home. I should have taken him back myself, but I . . . well, I didn't.”

“He never returned? What did the cab driver say?”

He made a sad sound. “We never saw him again. The cab driver said he jumped out of the vehicle after only a block and ran off.”

“Why does Scotland Yard think he fell into a canal? There could be hundreds of other explanations for his disappearance.”

“The boxing club is near Pristin Canal. I don't know if you're familiar with it, but the railings are nonexistent there, and the sides are steep and deep. There were two men who saw someone fall in, but they were too drunk to save the person. And likely too drunk to have known what they saw anyhow. But if someone did drown, it could have been Robby.”

“How terrible.” I lapsed into silence, trying to determine what other questions Mina would ask. I could think of nothing more . . . but perhaps that was because I spent more
time peering in the shadows, hoping to see a pair of glowing red eyes.

Our conversation turned to lighter topics, and my companion made a few jests about the mechanized fireflies and their incessant buzzing. He had me laughing unexpectedly as we passed small trash compactors that chugged along, sweeping up refuse. Smoke belched from their rear pipes. Side gates opened temptingly as we approached, then closed when we walked past. Beyond the cogs and gears of the ornate side-gates, I saw shadowy figures and winking lights. The entire pleasure garden seemed to be a large maze with a variety of entertainment centers. A body of water was close by; I could smell it on the air.

Miss Norton and her brother trailed behind us, conversing with Aunt Geraldine. Mina, Dylan, Willa, and Mr. Treadwell were directly in front of us. A fountain suddenly appeared to my right. Water spurted up in a slender, elegant stream, arcing over us, then sparkled down into a small pool on the other side of the path, spraying us gently. Miss Norton gave a little shriek. I did not.

“It's a pleasure to walk with a young woman who doesn't mind a few droplets. It can be quite strenuous on the ear, those unexpected shrieks.” My companion grinned down at me, and I gave a little chuckle.

“Then I shall attempt to keep any such shrieks firmly tamped down, Mr. Ashton. I should hate to injure your ears.”

A trio of jugglers dressed like harlequins appeared from the shadows. Their faces were painted white with black diamonds. Each had four red balls and they began to walk along with us as they juggled, passing the balls back and forth over our heads, weaving in between and around us.

A man in a cape and tall black hat stood near a park bench, playing a mournful song on the violin. It was eerie and sad, yet oddly beautiful. A young couple stopped to listen, then I heard the clink of coins being dropped into his violin case.

“So, Herrell . . . how is Miss Willa?” asked Dr. Norton as he joined us. His sister had walked ahead to accompany Mr. Treadwell and the others. “You mentioned earlier there was an incident. Can I be of assistance?”

My escort sighed and I felt his arm tighten. “I'm very concerned about her.” He patted my hand. “You'll hear about it soon enough, I trust. Best that you hear it from me.”

“What is it?” I was only half listening, for I suddenly felt a chill over the back of my neck. Blast it all, I wasn't certain if it was a real breeze or a vampire.

I looked around. The jugglers had left us. The violinist was still playing, his eye-patched face nestled into his instrument. A group of five young men came jaunting along the footpath, loud and boisterous, pushing and shoving. A man riding a bicycle, its front wheel nearly as tall as me, came spinning down the path. Lights glittered on his spokes, and a little
puff of steam came from the back. A trail of golden glitter followed in his wake.

“Willa did something terribly frightening yesterday. She climbed on top of the roof of the south tower and appeared to be attempting to fish,” Mr. Ashton said grimly. “She brought up a pole with her, and was casting the line off into the air. Fortunately, this was right in the middle of the day and one of our footmen saw her.”

This grabbed my full attention. “She wasn't hurt?”

“My
word
,” said Dr. Norton. “Did she come down safely?”

“Only with some difficulty. It was quite an unsettling experience.”

“What explanation did she give for doing such a foolhardy thing?”

We'd stopped at the edge of the footpath and I remained silent as they continued.

“She claimed . . . pah, I can hardly speak it. She claimed her mother told her to do it, that it was the only way to save Robby! That if she could catch his soul on a hook, where it floats over the tower, she could bring him back to earth.”

“Has the poor girl gone
mad
?” Dr. Norton's eyes were wide.

“That is precisely my concern.” Mr. Ashton sounded weary. “I very much fear. . . .” He stopped and seemed to notice me again for the first time. “You're a dear friend of Willa's. Have you seen any evidence of this?”

I didn't correct his assumption, although I felt guilty about allowing him to believe we were close. “No. Did she say how or when she received those instructions?”

“No, and I didn't want to upset her further by pressing.” Mr. Ashton ran a hand over his face, rubbing his brow roughly. “Her aunt has threatened to cut her off from doing any more s
é
ances, and I'm inclined to agree. We both felt she should have remained home tonight and rested. But she insisted on coming.”

All of a sudden, a figure appeared at the edge of the pathway. A discordant note startled me, and I was reminded of the ghostly music during Miss Fenley's s
é
ance. But when I looked over, it was only to see the eye-patched violinist. Still playing screechy, unpleasant notes, he gestured to his open violin case with a booted foot. The gentle music he'd been playing moments ago had gone, replaced by this loud, unpleasant noise.

“Devil take it—pardon me, Miss Stoker.” Mr. Ashton gestured at the musician. “Only cease your playing and I'll line your bloody pockets with coin.” He dug in the deep insides of his coat and tossed a handful of coins into the case.

One of them flipped out and landed on the ground next to my foot. Without thinking, I bent to pick it up just as the musician stooped as well.

We both reached for it at the same time, and I looked at him full in the face.

Bloody, blooming, blasted fish.

Pix
.

But this time, there was no humor in his expression, no flash of levity in his exposed eye. Only cold darkness. He took the coin and gave a short, jerky bow. Then he collected his case, tucking the violin under his arm. “Good even'n, guvnors. . . . Miss.”

I caught a glimpse of his flat, hard mouth just before he turned away. A gate behind him opened, and he walked through, melting into the shadows.