As it so happened, Patricia did agree. She spent the next short while discussing with me the various pieces of the elf’s weapon which could only have come from specialized machinery, the parts that had to have been custom made for the weapon. After I gained a description of the machinery required, I decided that another visit to Benjamin was needed. Though I was reluctant to make the journey, especially with the recent trouble we had together and Francis’ rebuke, I knew of no other way to find out which factories would house such equipment within their walls. Once I had that information in hand, however, it would only be a matter of time before my list of possible locations was narrowed to a more manageable number.
I had left my office in an attempt to clean up the mess that my attempts at self-defense had created. My efforts began at the top of the stairs, where I had apparently left a small trail of water and soot from the pool in the front room. After a full minute or two scrubbing at the stains, I sat back with a sigh. It was obvious that the legacy of the battle was determined to remain for a long, long time.
Nevertheless, I persisted in my efforts for another futile space of time until finally the menial nature of the task convinced me to take a small rest. As I descended the stairs, it occurred to me that Patricia had been remarkably quiet. It was unlike her to simply bide her time, even with the convenient distraction of the immobilizer to keep her busy. I felt a quiet sense of worry creep through me as I hopped over the hole in the stairway.
Patricia had left my office behind and was now lounging in the den. She had apparently raided my food storage to provide herself the material for a sandwich, which she was happily devouring. I gave her a disapproving look. Completely unaware of any transgression, she looked up and smiled. “How have you done with the cleaning?”
With a grimace, I made my way to a different chair and slumped into it. “Not very well, I am afraid. My landlord will be very upset.”
Patricia grunted. “Yeah, I’ve had to deal with a few landlords like that. They didn’t appreciate the occasional necessities of my profession.” She tapped a finger on her carbine and smiled. “Fortunately, they would never dream of putting a young lady such as myself out on the street. Such considerate gentlemen.”
I gave her a level look. “Of course. So whenever an incident similar to this one occurs, you simply browbeat your poor proprietor into submission? I do not doubt the effectiveness of your technique, but I would prefer to avoid garnering a similar reputation.”
“My reputation is above reproach, Hector, and you know it.” Patricia affected an offended air, raising her nose in mockery of the attitude. Then she rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat. “Don’t get so pompous, Mr. Investigator. I always repair the damage, and it’s always taken care of long before I leave any particular place.”
Curiosity, that deadly disease, reared its head. “Might I ask your method for doing so? I find myself in need of such skills, but you have never mentioned having them yourself.”
Patricia laughed. “Of course I didn’t! Could you imagine me trying to fix up a scene like this? I’d be useless.” She settled back into her chair once more and took another bite of sandwich. Her response was delayed for a moment until she swallowed. “I contracted the work. Just like our clients do when they don’t want to deal with something messy.”
Smug satisfaction coated her words like fresh oil. I shook my head. “Who would specialize in repairing battle damage to an apartment? Perhaps a better question would be, how would you get to know such a person in the first place?”
The only response I drew from her was a low chuckle. “Oh, come now, Hector. A girl needs to have a few secrets.” She tilted her head to one side. “Would you like me to put you in contact with her?”
That her mysterious fixer was female only deepened both my incredulity and my suspicions regarding their nature, but I had little choice. Either I acceded to her request, or I would need to face a rather irate landlord sometime in the near future. “I would be grateful for your help. Would you please get into contact with her for an introduction?”
Patricia swallowed another bite of sandwich and nodded. “Already done. She should come by sometime next week, along with a few of her escorts. I hope you don’t mind the company.”
The nature of said company seemed to be left purposely vague for some mischievous reason or another, but I did not intend to give Patricia the satisfaction of forcing me to pry the reality of the situation out of her. I simply nodded. “It would be a pleasure. I appreciate your help, Ms. Anderson.”
“It is always nice to help a friend in need.” Patricia’s voice was now curiously hesitant, as if preparing to broach a subject she knew would bring retribution. “In fact, I would say, more help from a friend when times are desperate would make everything better.”
I eyed her. “Is that so, Ms. Anderson?”
“The more the merrier, I would say.”
The beginnings of a realization were starting to gather in the channels of my mind. “Might I ask why you would say such a thing, Ms. Anderson?”
Patricia shifted on her seat as if it had suddenly grown uncomfortable. “It just makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Perhaps.” I paused for an appropriate length of time, and then spoke again. “I merely suspect that there is more to the statement than you would lead me to believe. I would be very happy to be enlightened as to its true nature.”
There was a long and awkward silence, and then Patricia shook her head. When she met my eyes, I could tell she was already preparing to defend her actions, composing treatises and arguments in her head. “I sent a few more invitations than just the one to my friend. I won’t apologize for it. You need the help, and you’re too stubborn to ask for it on your own.”
I felt a cold flow of resentment sweep through me. “Who, precisely, did you ask for help on my behalf?”
She took a long, slow breath. “Your pals. Benjamin and Francis.”
Patricia flinched as if expecting an explosion, but I remained calm. Somewhat calm, I should say. “I cannot imagine why—”
My just rebuke was interrupted by a knock at the door. I spared only enough time for a frigid stare in Patricia’s direction. Then I stood and walked over to the door.
When I opened it, I found Benjamin standing on the landing. His gray skin showed no bruises from our encounter with the thugs that unfortunate night. My old friend was dressed rather finely for his visit out of Whitechapel, with a rather well-made long coat and a top hat that concealed his unusual ears. Ben smiled, waiting, and I fumbled with the usual words. “Hello, Benjamin. Hello, Hector.”
His smile widened, and he nodded. “Hello, Hector.” I stepped aside to allow him to enter, and he did so with a low whistle he had to have picked up from someone else. For a moment Ben surveyed the damage, and then his eyes fell on Patricia. A glance in my direction told me I had far more to fear than a simple comment about my taste in decorations. He continued, frustratingly enough, in my voice. “Well, if it is not the esteemed Ms. Anderson! I am delighted to once again make your acquaintance.”
With these words he bowed low, and I had to restrain the uncommonly strong urge to kick him. Patricia, for her part, rose from her seat and set the sandwich aside. Incredibly enough, she mimed a curtsey. “Why, it is a pleasure for me as well, Mr. Smithridge.” When she straightened again, the usual smirk had taken form on her lips. “I’m surprised you managed to get here so quickly.”
Benjamin shrugged. “To be honest, my dear lady, I set out the very moment your runner reached my lodgings. It did not take long to purchase transit here, and I was more than happy to come to the assistance of such a close friend.” He ended that sentence with an eyebrow raised in my direction. The inflection of his voice—my voice—made it clear that it was both a rebuke to my present pride and a salve to my former folly. It was just as certain that he had overheard everything from the landing, and was offering his opinion on the matter in the best way he could.
With another resentful glance in Patricia’s direction, I inclined my head. “Thank you, Benjamin, for your timely assistance. I should have thought to call on you sooner.”
He acknowledged the half apology with a graceful nod. Then he spread his arms, and the booming baritone returned in place of my words. “What a tragedy occurred here! What catastrophe, what loss.” Benjamin bent and plucked sadly at the burnt edge of my carpet. “To have suffered so and never been fashionable to begin with!”
Patricia snorted at his dramatics. I rolled my eyes, but I felt my spirits lift somewhat to hear my friend teasing me as normal. Perhaps this meeting of old friendships would not turn out quite as poorly as I had anticipated.
As though Fate had heard my unspoken wish and it had offended her dignity, a sharp knock rattled my door. The smell of burnt wood drifted in along with the sound, and I wondered if I would now have one more mark for Patricia’s friend to fix. I sighed, braced myself, and pulled open the door to admit Francis.
My old friend stepped inside, sparks already dancing around him as he planted his cane in the carpet. “Well, Kingsley, I had no idea that you would already be begging…” His voice trailed off as he took in the state of my apartment, and the sparks slowly faded from around him. He turned to me, and his voice was low and dangerous. “What has happened here, Hector?”
Patricia answered for me. “Our distinguished friend had some visitors last night. They nearly kidnapped him, and they left the place a mess.” I directed a glare in her direction; I had no need of an ifrit exploding in the middle of what was left of my small home.
When I turned back to Francis, I found him watching me closely, as if searching for a confirmation in my face. “She is right, Francis. I apologize for intruding upon your time—”
“Nonsense.” The word was not nearly as filled with lethal intent as before, but that volcanic rage still warmed the words. “I’m not so selfish as to ignore your needs at such a time, Kingsley. Remember that much when this is done.”
“Well, that’s kind of him. Wouldn’t you say, Hector?” Patricia’s smile was far too bright and confident for my good. It was clear that she believed herself absolved of any wrong; such an attitude could only lead to more mischief in the future.
Still, I had intended to seek help from Benjamin at the very least, and it may have enraged Francis only further to have excluded him from my efforts. I steeled myself and spoke, weighing my words carefully. After all, I faced the double danger of an upset ifrit and a wickedly clever mimic. Anything I said was a threat to my well-being. “You are right, Patricia. I am grateful for your help, both of you. It truly does mean a lot to me.” I paused. “First, we need to determine the identity and location of our opponents.”
Benjamin grinned like a schoolboy and winked at me. “You mean, I need to determine the identity and location of your opponents, right?”
I sighed and nodded. “May we arrange the matter of payment later on, Benjamin?” The mimic nodded, that same mischievious smile on his face. There was little doubt that my bill would grow terribly by the end of the matter at hand, but there was no chance of avoiding it.
“One moment, Kingsley. Payment? You pay him?” Francis looked back and forth between the two of us. His face seemed to struggle between indignant surprise and a grimace of disgust.
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I frowned. “Of course, Francis. Our Benjamin has become quite a mercenary in his time here in London. I blame the city influence, of course.” Benjamin chuckled in my voice, and Francis flicked a spark in his direction. The mimic gave a distinctly feminine yelp, surprising all of us. He swiped at the spot on his coat where the spark had landed and gave Francis an incredulous glare.
“Don’t look so outraged, mimic. You earned it.” I looked at Francis in surprise. He glanced at me in apparent embarrassment. “He led me to believe that all the work he’s done for you has been a personal favor. I had no idea you were paying him this whole time.” The ifrit paused, avoiding my eyes and flicking at one of the sparks in the air idly. “My apologies, Hector.”
My only reaction was a kind of embarrassed indifference. I doubted my struggles with Francis would end over so simple a misunderstanding, but it was nice not to be viewed as a completely manipulative monster by so deep a friend. “It is nothing, Francis.” I turned back to Benjamin, who looked anything but ashamed of the part he had played in the matter. “We have assembled a small number of clues as to the location of the criminal’s hideout. If you could uncover their hiding place, it would be of great help.”
Benjamin nodded, and without waiting for instructions, strode directly into my office. It was more than likely that he knew the combinations to any locks he found within simply due to his experience with me, but I had already laid the notes concerning the case out on my desk in preparation for a visit to his home. I considered it a fair wager that he could manage to locate them without specific direction.
I then turned to Francis, wondering for a moment what he could do without lighting half the borough on fire. A possibility came to me, and I only hesitated a moment to frame it in the correct words. “Francis, I do not know if the intruders are finished trying to infiltrate my apartment. They may launch another assault at some point in the near future.”
The mere mention of the possibility drew his eyebrows together in a fierce scowl. “Then we’ll be ready for them. If we are together, they can’t hope to stop us.”
“I agree, but to be truthful, I only need them discouraged. Further, I can’t count on them to make the next move. I have to continue my investigations or I may risk losing the culprits entirely.” I paused. “It would be difficult to be in two places at once, but I could trust the protection of my home to you without question. May I rely on you for the next day or so?”
There was no hesitation in Francis’ response. “Absolutely. I almost hope they try it, just so I might give them a taste of their own medicine.” Sparks gathered around him for a moment, and I worried that in his anticipation, he would release the inferno contained within him. Fortunately, he noticed the flurry of sparks and drew a calming breath. Even as they faded somewhat, his crimson eyes remained warm and excited, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.
“Thank you, my friend.” I gave him a nod, and then turned to Patricia. “Ms. Anderson and I will need to go, but we will be back sometime later tonight. I hope to find all is well with both of you then.”
Francis extended a hand, and I shook it firmly. “Good hunting, Hector. We will wait for you here.” Patricia shoved what remained of her meal into her mouth and collected her carbine. Then the two of us left the apartment by the door, leaving my friends to their labors in our wake.
For nearly two minutes, the walk down Haversham Street was peaceful. Considering my companion, such a duration was nearly a miracle. She stood tapping her foot impatiently as I paused in the street to collect my bearings. Finally, she broke in upon my ponderings with a growl. “Well, Hector? Where are we heading next?”
“I am going to the academy to talk to Mr. Summervale. He has been looking into some aspects of the case from his perspective. You on the other hand, are going someplace where you will be less likely to cause chaos and havoc in my fragile life.”
Patricia raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What gave you that idea? I thought we were investigating together. I can help, you know.”
I knew full well how much help Patricia could be. Without her assistance, I would likely have had to arrange an awkward balance between protecting my home and pursuing the culprits, which easily could have ended in disaster. At the same time, the attack on my home had more than proved that the men behind the attack on the academy were ruthless; the fact that Patricia was a woman would likely do little to prevent them from including her on their list of targets if she grew more involved in the case.
Thus, my only choice in the matter was to discourage her from participating, though I knew from the start it would be an uphill battle. I let myself glare at her. “No, Ms. Anderson. In my experience, you are far more likely to cause trouble than you are to resolve it. I need someone who can help me find clues, not simply shoot everything in sight.”
She shifted the carbine on her shoulder. Her expression darkened. “I don’t stir up any trouble when I don’t want to. Which is more than I can say for you, Mr. I-got-ambushed-in-my-bedclothes-Kingsley.” I grimaced at the tone in her voice, but I stood firm even as she continued. “And if you think I’m going to let you prance around the city after a bunch of mercenaries tried to carry you off, you’re crazier than I first thought. I’m coming with you, and that’s final.”
“No, you’re not. Go home, or go shoot some poor unsuspecting fool, or whatever you do for fun. You have had quite enough entertainment at my expense.” I winced inwardly at the roughness of my words, but I had long since learned that no meek persuasion would work in Patricia’s case. Direct and ungentlemanly as it might be, this was my only opportunity to convince her to listen.
“Oh, really.” A smile crept across her features that I could only describe as unsettling. “Maybe I should just wait until you leave and ask your friends what they think of that?”
I pictured Patricia alone with Benjamin and Francis, and an afternoon to kill by trading stories. Stories that would, in all likelihood, involve myself. “I doubt I could consider that a satisfactory solution, Ms. Anderson. Go home.”
Patricia searched my face for a moment. Then her eyes narrowed. “And how exactly are you going to make me go if I don’t want to, Hector Kingsley? Are you going to shoot me? Or maybe you’ll try to outrun me.” She tapped a finger on her carbine’s handle. “I wouldn’t suggest it.”
It was obvious that it was beyond help now. I sighed. An attempt to be a gentleman had not only failed to place Patricia in a spot of safety, but now condemned me to her somewhat angry presence for the rest of the day. “Very well, then. Let us be off.” Without a word, she stomped past me as we proceeded down the avenue toward the tube station.
I watched with some trepidation as she stalked along the cobblestones, her stride unhesitating and cautious at the same moment. It was the fluid walk of a predator in a dangerous forest, and the way her gaze swept the street reminded me of a hunting tiger. The rumble of carts and the whirring of cycles might have masked whatever sounds would have preceded an attack, but it appeared she was still hoping to catch sight of anyone paying too much attention to our progress—or, at the very least, to take out her frustration with me on the innocent passers-by.
While I pitied the occasional pedestrian who caught her fierce attention, I doubted that my nighttime guests had lingered to observe our departure. Their intrusion had been well equipped, but had not seemed to be armed by any foreknowledge of my defenses, nor of the capabilities I had displayed. Indeed, their very intention to capture me had hinted at an ignorance of my skill, along with the depth of my investigations. My interrogation after the kidnapping would have likely provided them with all the information they wanted, but such information would have already been readily available if they had some form of spy in their employ.
This fact, in keeping with the rest of the pattern of their actions, had proved to me that they had not been spying on me for any length of time. Likely they had not done much more research into my background than was necessary to obtain my address, let alone taking the time and effort to put together a system of informants, spies, and agents designed to catch me with my guard down. Arguing such facts with Patricia was unfortunately a fruitless endeavor, as she had not become a proficient member of her profession without developing a healthy sense of paranoia. It was an embarrassment, but I hoped that her exceeding care would come to a halt soon enough.
Unfortunately, my hopes were ground to dust by her unrelenting vigilance. Person after person found themselves either staring down the barrel of her carbine or fleeing one of her lethal glares. When a poor, unwary businessman found himself her target for the sin of having his hand in his pocket, I decided that enough was enough. I cleared my throat loudly. “Ms. Anderson, if I might have a word.”
Patricia looked back at me, her eyes pausing for a moment on my face before roaming the rest of the street. “You aren’t going to talk me out of this, Hector. A golem, werewolves, and an undine are nothing to brush off so easily, especially when they have such advanced equipment.”
“You are absolutely correct, Ms. Anderson.” Some of the tension in her features eased away. She had obviously seen my intentions to ask her to drop her guard, and she did not intend to do anything of the sort. “Such an organization is not to be taken lightly, and I appreciate your efforts to keep me safe. I would simply ask if I may suggest an alternate course for our journey together.”
Her eyes returned to mine, and she briefly narrowed them. “How do you mean?”
I paused. “Your vigilance, while admirable, is creating quite a stir in the crowd. Such a disturbance is likely to focus more attention on us, and makes it impossible to move without being noticed. We would stand a much better chance of escaping any observers they might have sent if we concentrate on being inconspicuous.”
A frown formed on her lips. “Inconspicuous? You want to go into hiding?”
I pictured myself stuffed in some hole while Patricia guarded the entrance. “No, no, nothing so drastic as that. I merely suggest that by concealing our movements, those who would do us harm would find more difficulty in achieving their objective.”
“Oh. You want to avoid notice, then.” Patricia nodded easily. “That’s perfectly fine. I was planning on it anyway. The street to the tube station is far too crowded for me to keep this up.”
Relief washed over me. I felt a knot in my back loosen up. “You were? I am very glad to hear it, then.”
Patricia shrugged. “Of course, Hector. I’m not a novice after all, and these sorts of situations require a different approach to make sure nobody follows us. I just need to find a manhole, and we will be fine.”
I blinked as my unease returned. “A manhole, Ms. Anderson? May I ask what we need with one of those?”
She smiled. “Why, Hector, I thought you would know.” Her smile turned a bit more vicious, even vengeful, and I felt my unease curl into a distinct swirl of terror. When she spoke, she seemed to relish every word. “After all, how else do you expect to get into the sewers from here?”
The next hour is best left undescribed. Let me simply summarize by saying that, in my most humble opinion, there is no worse mode of transit than by the route underground. Passing under the streets of London by slogging through the accumulated nightsoil and pollution, grubbing like a tosher among the refuse and the rats, was one of the low points of my existence thus far. It was an ever present reminder to me of the cost of trying to manipulate Patricia into a less objectionable attitude. After thirty minutes of the stench, I soon resolved never to anger her again.
At the very least the trip served its purpose. Patricia was far more relaxed, and the conversation, such as it was among the garbage that surrounded us, was much more enjoyable. Furthermore, I was able to avoid the congestion and crowding that often accompanied the tube system at this time of day. The darkness of the sewers proved no serious difficulty, for Patricia still had her hunting goggles with her. With the Distillation-powered enhancements to her vision, we maneuvered through the dark hand in hand—purely for guidance purposes, of course—as she led us to the destination.
When we reached a point close to the station, she preceded me up to the surface. A moment saw the cover unscrewed, and we were once more introduced to the blessed daylight. A few curious folk, especially those poor souls downwind of our position, eyed us. Their study came to an abrupt end as Patricia swept the carbine around in a broad arc, lining each up in her sights. As if they were sand washed away by the sea, the spectators retreated and we were once again alone.
Patricia turned a bright smile on me. “There! I don’t think anyone could have followed us here unnoticed, do you?”
I bent to replace the manhole cover, straining for a moment beneath the weight. “No, Ms. Anderson, I am fairly confident that no one could have traced us here.” The cover slid into place, and I gave the metal disc a trio of sharp, quick turns to secure it. When I straightened up, I found that my back had developed a sudden pain. With one hand, I knuckled the spot. “Are we far from the tube station?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t believe so. We should be able to reach the station just before the next pneumatic arrives. That’ll make it near impossible for anyone to catch up to us.” Then she paused. “Maybe we should stay here, though. They might try to come up through the manhole, and we would have them at a disadvantage. Just in case.”
My response was delayed as I attempted to pry at some of the dried grime around the bottom of my boot using the tip of my cane. Mud, manure, or whatever it might have been, the substance stubbornly refused even my most strenuous efforts. “I’m afraid that such an ambush would not serve our greater purposes, Ms. Anderson. If our objective is not only to eliminate the thugs who are after us, but also to solve the case and bring down the organization which supports them, then the information Benjamin will provide is far more important.”
I sighed and gave up my futile struggle. It might have been the stench affecting my mind, but the substance on my boot seemed somehow smug as I stomped on the cobblestones. “Therefore, let us proceed to the station, if you do not have any other alternate plans.”
The satisfied look Patricia gave me was not imaginary by any measure. “No, I think we’ll be just fine.” She looked over the small alley again and nodded to herself. “It will be nice to have this business over and done with. The academy is a rather enjoyable place, and I would love to have it safe.”
I brushed the remaining residue from my coat. It flaked away in a puff of foul-smelling dust, though some stains persisted despite my efforts. “I will be grateful for your company, Ms. Anderson. Though I am confident we will prevail, this case remains a danger to both me and my friends.” Uncertain, I paused. “I am glad to count you among them.”
Patricia gave me a measured look and smiled. It was like the sun had broken through the clouds for one brief moment. “No need to thank me. It’s a pleasure to work with you, after all.” Then her more solemn look returned, and she shouldered her carbine with a determined air. With that last exchange, we marched off toward the tube station, fortified both in scent and resolve in our course. As I hoped for a swift resolution to both case and odor, I wondered briefly if such a miracle would be possible, and how it would occur.