The next day, my efforts began again in earnest. There was a note waiting on my front porch alerting me that the academy had once again suffered an attack by the vandals. They requested that I come immediately upon my receipt of the message, and bring with me all the evidence and progress I had thus far made in the case. Governor Benton’s writing had a frustrated edge to it, with the letters scratched deeply into the page and the quality of the handwriting ragged. I felt a moment of pity for the head of the academy; it could not, of course, be easy to shepherd a school through such a difficult time.
At the same moment, however, I felt a burst of triumph wash through me. If the perpetrators had made another assault last night, then the cameras I had prepared could very well have captured some evidence I would be able to use. Thus, in spite of the gravity of the situation, I found myself smiling as I prepared to go to work.
When I arrived at the gates of the academy a short while later, I found an interesting collection of people waiting for me. Not only was Daniel once again present, but both Mr. Benton and Lord Devonshire were standing within the shadow of the gates. The three men were discussing something in low, urgent tones, and as I approached, they fell silent in unison. It was not the sort of gesture that reassures an investigator, but I was still full of confidence in Daniel’s gadgetry. Not even such poor signs of discontent among my clients could weigh me down today.
“Good morning, Mr. Kingsley.” Mr. Benton strode out to greet me and extended his hand for a professional, detached handshake that was only appropriate for the situation. I shook his hand firmly, and he continued in a rather cool voice. “I am pleased to see that you were able to make it here in good time. We have only been waiting a short while.”
I frowned. “My apologies. I did not receive the note you sent until I came out this morning, and I did not realize I would be so anxiously awaited.” I looked from him to Lord Devonshire and made a respectful bow. “My apologies to you as well, Lord Devonshire.”
Lord Devonshire shook his head sharply. “Nevermind that sort of thing. I must ask you frankly, Mr. Kingsley, what progress have you made with the case? I have become exceedingly anxious regarding the resolution of this issue, especially considering the incidents last night.”
“Incidents, my lord?” The use of the plural hinted at something on a bit larger scale than another case of scrawled threats and blasphemies across the outer wall, however vile and contemptible they might have been. “Might I ask what occurred?”
Daniel was the one who answered, his voice broken by anxiety and stress. “They came again, Kingsley, but worse than before. They put words along three different spots on the wall, and made such a racket in the process that the guards heard and rushed to the scene.” He shook his head. “But it must have been a ruse, because while the guards were at the walls, some of the curs crept inside the compound and left their mark along the side of the dorm. They woke the students from their sleep with a burst of fire. It was terrible. Simply awful.” The young professor was clearly out of his normal depth, and the concern he showed for his sister’s safety was clear as the sun in the sky. His expression caught at my heart, and I opened my mouth to reassure the man of their security.
Before I had the chance, however, Lord Devonshire broke in, his voice tight with frustration and anger. “Of course as you must know, this type of incident is not to be borne. I consider it an offense to the honor of the academy and an extreme risk to the health and safety of the students themselves.” He gave me a look that bordered on a glare. “I might have assumed that you would have seen a way by now to prevent such assaults on our property and our charges. Why were you not patrolling the academy grounds or watching the streets for activity last night? Such methods are standard among the men of your profession if I am not mistaken, and I would hope that you would be familiar with them and sincerely motivated to use them in this case. Though this problem might seem a light matter to you, I will not tolerate a lack of dedication here, Mr. Kingsley, and I expect your best efforts on our behalf.”
I waited for a moment to be sure I would not interrupt him. Though the unjustified rebuke stung my pride, I knew that had I not arranged for things ahead of time and had neglected the safety of the school, Lord Devonshire would have been more than reasonable in demanding an explanation. Thus, as he finished and gave pause to allow my response, I bowed a second time. “My lord, if you would give me the chance to explain my methods, my absence last night will be made clear to you.”
Lord Devonshire’s face calmed somewhat, and his posture became less stiff and far less formal. “I should hope so, Mr. Kingsley. Offer your explanations, if you will.”
With a nod, I gestured to Daniel. “The methods you describe are indeed a part of my craft, but thanks to the ingenuity of Mr. Summervale, they were rendered unnecessary.”
Mr. Benton frowned as he looked to his associate. I was sure he found no clue there, for Daniel seemed to be as befuddled as his superior. The governor spoke, his doubt clear in his voice. “Unnecessary? Why, what do you mean, Mr. Kingsley? And how could Daniel have had so dramatic an effect on the situation without our knowledge?”
I smiled. “You may give his inventions far too little credit, Mr. Benton. Rest assured that the application of his work may yet prove instrumental to the cause in which I now labor.” With a slight flourish of my cane, I gestured for the three men to follow me. “If you would all accompany me, I will demonstrate the situation more clearly.”
Lord Devonshire and the others nodded their assent, though the lot of them seemed to have been put off balance by my dismissal of their concerns. They followed me as I led them to the first building upon which I had placed Daniel’s cameras. The workmen of the factory glared as we approached, but I ignored them. I knew that with the presence of Lord Devonshire nearby, no danger was real. A common-born workman would never dream of assaulting a member of the peerage in broad daylight, and certainly not with so many witnesses about.
Furthermore, we did not need access to the factory itself to retrieve the device. I simply needed to climb to the rooftop and bring the camera down for inspection. As we reached the hiding place for the first camera, I drew out my climbing tool and began to search for a likely spot for the grapple to stick. By now, impatience was stamped on the face of Mr. Benton, but a curious look had taken hold of Lord Devonshire’s eyes. It was obvious that the peer intended to wait for my complete explanation, and that fact stayed the governor’s annoyance long enough for me to attach the climbing tool firmly and begin my ascent.
Shouts of alarm and anger rang from the nearby workmen, and I snorted to myself as I reached the top. While their resentment of the fact that I had scaled the wall had been clear, there was little that shouting could do to change the situation, and I promptly ignored them as I retrieved the camera waiting there. As I did so, I noted that the signal mark on its casing had changed to indicate that a photograph had been taken. I smiled and secured the device on my person, reattached the grapple more firmly, and began my descent back into the midst of the waiting gentlemen.
Mr. Benton’s patience was now clearly spent. “Mr. Kingsley, I must insist that you tell us the meaning of this! We have already struggled in keeping good relations with our neighbors; if those workmen tell their employers that you have been interfering with the working of the factory—”
“Then we will reassure them that I have not done anything of the sort, and have merely borrowed the use of their rooftop for a platform to observe the situation on our own property.” I shrugged. “They might complain, but their disgruntlement is worth the prize Daniel has produced for us.” I drew out the camera and was rewarded with the memorable sight of Daniel’s mouth dropping open in astonishment.
“My camera!” As the governor and the patron of the academy glanced back at him, Daniel closed his mouth and flushed a deep crimson color. “I was persuaded to lend a few devices to Kingsley to aid in his investigation. I did not imagine they would participate so directly.”
“I assure you their participation was vital, Mr. Summervale.” I tapped the camera casing. “ In the course of his research, our young professor has developed, an automated camera. A device that can be set with certain parameters which trigger the taking of a photograph.”
Understanding dawned in Lord Devonshire’s eyes. “And you set these cameras up around the academy in advance of the attack last night. What parameters did you use?”
I let a cocksure grin twist my lips. “A change in outside light, such as would be caused by a conflagration, explosion—”
“Or the scorching of letters into stone.” Mr. Benton’s voice was no longer tight with fury; his hands began to uncurl from the fists they had formed. “Very well done, Mr. Kingsley. It is obvious that you have acted wisely thus far in the course of your investigation.” He paused, with a glance toward Lord Devonshire. “You have my sincere apology for my impatience. I will more fully rely on your skills to see us through this crisis from now on.”
I shook my head firmly. “Do not trouble yourself over the matter, Mr. Benton. It is exemplary that you have invested so much care and concern in the well-being of your students.” I gave him a faint smile. “I am not so inexperienced in this work that I would allow myself to be offended in such a manner, and I will do everything in my power to merit such trust as you have placed in me.”
Lord Devonshire stepped forward and extended his hand. I took it in surprise, and he gave my hand a rough shake with a grip as firm as iron. “You have already more than warranted such confidence, Mr. Kingsley. Such a novel approach and an intuitive grasp of applied technology are astounding signs of your aptitude for this task.” He stepped away and glanced down at the camera I still held. “I would appreciate it greatly if you were to send me any news of evidence found in this manner. It seems that I can neither rest well nor sit quietly until the whole thing is settled.”
I made one final bow, partially out of gratitude for the compliment. “Of course, Lord Devonshire.”
He held up a hand. “If you please, Mr. Kingsley. I do not stand much on formality when I have met such an entirely competent man at their work. Until the case is over, let us be more familiar with each other. I shall call you Hector, and you may call me Michael. Are you agreed?”
For a moment, I was stunned. Such a suggestion bordered on a fantastic disrespect to the position Devonshire held in society. The mere thought of it would have horrified anyone I knew, aside from Patricia; both Daniel and Mr. Benton looked as if they had been shocked by some electrical device. Still, at the same time such an offering of friendship would not be easily refused. I would risk offending the man almost as severely by insisting on formality instead. It would be an insult that neither I nor the academy could likely afford. In all honesty, I was appalled to be placed between such options.
Still, one of those choices meant that the investigation could continue without serious impediment, and despite my upbringing and hundreds of years of respect and tradition, I chose that course. With some difficulty, I finally answered Devonshire. “I would be honored to be so addressed by such a distinguished member of society, M—Michael.”
Obviously pleased, Devonshire drew back and fidgeted with his gloves for a moment. “My thanks to you Hector. You have been a great help to us all.” He turned sharply to Mr. Benton. “I’m afraid I have other pressing concerns—a matter of a few interviews with local newscripts speaking about this incident—and I must take my leave. Are there any other issues?” Mr. Benton shook his head numbly, and Devonshire smiled. “Good. Then I will return when I hear more news of the investigation. Farewell!” With another round of handshakes, Devonshire departed, his cane clicking lightly on the cobblestones as he made his exit. I stared after him for a moment, still astonished at his behavior and yet flattered that he would consider me such an intimate.
It was Mr. Benton who brought me down to earth once more with a sudden clearing of his throat. I turned to find him regarding me carefully. “You have been very fortunate so far, Mr. Kingsley, and I congratulate you on your success. Please inform me when you have more evidence to present.” With no more fanfare or words than that, the governor made his way back toward the academy, his back somewhat stiff and head held high.
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In his wake, he left behind Daniel, who looked as lost and confused as he had at any time during the short while I had known him. Finally, he regarded me with a perplexed expression and shook his head. “Well, now I don’t know what to call you, Kingsley. Should I use ‘sir’ or ‘Mr.’ or something of the sort?”
I burst out laughing and clapped the young professor on the shoulder. “Oh, just continue as you already have, Mr. Summervale! Any more or less and we should no longer feel ourselves comfortable with the situation.” With no small amount of relief, Daniel gave me a sheepish grin and a nod. More shouting broke in upon our conversation at that moment, and we both turned to find a group of workmen stomping toward us, heavy tools in hand.
We looked at each other. I spoke first. “Might I suggest we retrieve the other cameras at an accelerated pace?” Daniel nodded again, this time with more enthusiasm and less hesitation. The two of us retreated before the workmen at double speed, their shouts and threats lending haste to our stride. All the same, I felt buoyed up by success. It seemed that all was finally going right.
It took less than an hour to recover the other cameras, and by the end we had managed to avoid the workmen and secure the evidence we needed. Daniel led me back to his laboratory to develop the photographs, and I waited patiently as he worked.
The workshop had continued to accumulate clutter. I noted that a few projects had left the main bench and joined those on the piles in the center of the room; such a move likely did not reflect well on their chances for completion. To my surprise, however, the flying wing remained in its place of honor among Daniel’s projects. It seemed much closer to a finished version now, and I could see the subtle changes he had made to refine the device. Curious etchings marked the metal portions of the wing, and the brass which lined the upper edge was obviously meant to contain the Distillation that would power the contraption on its supposed flight through the air. I wondered if the effort was merely the product of folly and inexperience, and if this contraption would enable man to fly as well as Daedalus—or as poorly as his son Icarus instead.
I was still pondering the matter when Daniel returned with the developed pictures. It appeared that all six of the cameras had taken a photograph at some point during the tumultuous night. Some did not show very much at all; either the camera had been positioned at an inauspicious angle, or the image had been blurry from the distance. I sighed with frustration and set aside half the photographs, knowing them to be utterly useless.
The remaining three, however, were of supernal value. The first, and the clearest of the three, showed a view of the moment the scorched letters on the northern wall had been set alight. At least four different men were crouched around the marks. Most of them held small buckets which I assumed held the oil they had smeared on the stone. Unfortunately, the photograph appeared to have been mildly distorted by the conditions, and the faces of the men were indistinct and blurry. Their proportions seemed distorted as well, to the point where one of the men seemed nearly seven or eight feet tall. Further, the man lighting the fire almost seemed to be breathing flames from his mouth, a situation I found entirely unlikely.
Though I could not see their faces clearly, they all wore coats and hats I would have found very unusual on workmen. These were not simple pranksters; more likely, they were thugs or mischief makers hired to provide this level of harassment. The possibility of such a twist in the case brought a sense of foreboding to the front of my mind, but I shunted it aside and moved to the next photograph.
This image was at a rather different angle. The same flash of light had set the camera off, and the spreading flames could be seen over the edge of the wall. From this angle, however, another group of three men had been caught in the very act of scrawling their offensive message across the northeastern wall. Thick brushes that could have been used to coat furniture with resin filled their hands. The shadows cast by the flames hid their faces, but even cloaked in that obscuring darkness, I could see the same unusually refined clothing, confirming that an outside group was most likely the source of the culprits. Whether they had been hired by the workmen, or were merely using them as a cover, remained to be seen.
What truly caught my eye was the third photograph. This image showed neither of the two areas which had been assaulted, nor did it reveal anything of the walls of the inner compound which had been defaced. At first, I had prepared myself to set it with the others, but something concealed in the ink-deep darkness of the photograph gave me pause. I leaned in closer. “Mr. Summervale, what exactly do you make of this?”
The image showed a section of the southern wall. It was at the furthest point from the other two sites, and the flames of the first markings were only barely visible as a haze of light in the distance. Once again, the burst of brilliance had obscured everything in darkness, but the light of the moon still revealed some details. Here it shone on a buckle, there it glinted on a metal surface. As I peered at the image, I picked out more details until finally I was convinced that here was yet another group indulged in business most foul. I heard Daniel, who had been examining the image over my shoulder, draw in a sharp breath. “What are they doing, Kingsley? Are those barrels?”
I traced the line of reflected metal with a finger. “It appears so. If only it were not so hard to see. Might I borrow a glass?” The young professor nodded and handed me a magnifying glass. Bending close, I studied the tableau. “Those do indeed seem to be a series of barrels or caskets of a sort. What could they contain?”
Daniel glanced at the other two photographs. A line of worry creased his brow. “Perhaps they held the oil used to mark the school itself. But so much of it! Would they really have used that quantity in their mischief last night?”
I considered the possibility. With a sigh, I shook my head. “No, I estimate these barrels would contain far too much oil for that sort of thing. If these thugs are skimming off the top of some vat in the factories for their supply, taking that much would see them discovered quite a bit sooner.” A sense of unease stole over me. “If only I had set a second set of cameras on a time delay! Then we would know if they took the barrels with them when they left.”
The young professor turned to me and frowned. “Why would that matter, Kingsley? We know what they came here to do.”
“We know what they did, Mr. Summervale.” I tapped the photograph with one finger. “What they came here to do might be something else entirely. Why set the first two fires as a disguise for this infiltration if all you are to do is set a third? No, there must be more to this plot than a simple night’s threatening defacement.” A moment’s silence passed between us, and another thought occurred to me. “When they found the marks on the wall of the school itself, how many footprints lay nearby?”
At this question Daniel gave me an exasperated look. “I am aware of only one set. Why?”
The last word came nearly as a despairing demand, and I favored him with a smile. “Because here we have proof that these,” and here I tapped the image of the barrels again, “are something entirely different from the messages they are writing. Had there been more footprints, we could have expected something similar to what happened at the outer walls. These men do not seem to be the sort to vary their pattern of behavior easily.”
“True enough.” Daniel calmed somewhat. A calculating look entered his eyes, and he tapped his lips with a finger. “I suppose that if they left the barrels here, they would endeavor to hide them somewhere, would they not? And likely not somewhere a member of the faculty passes through regularly, since we would have stumbled over them. It must be a place left over from a time when the school was a factory.”
The reasoning seemed to be more than sound to me. “I agree. Perhaps it is a small storage space or a lost room.” I looked around the workshop speculatively. “It might be a space similar to this one, in fact. I shall have to search for it; finding their secret place would yield quite a few more clues.”
At this statement, Daniel held up a hand. “Kingsley, I will have to ask you not to go on such a search. For someone so unfamiliar with the Academy, it would be disconcerting for the students, and possibly dangerous for you. For all you know, there could be a Distillation room behind the doors you open, and in any case, you will have little frame of reference for your discoveries.”
I felt a stir of frustration at his words. “What would you have me do then, Mr. Summervale? From what we both heard this morning, Mr. Benton and Lord Devonshire will not brook any lack of effort on my part, and such a search is entirely needed in this case. Should I simply let this clue go by in the hopes that last night’s antics are repeated?”
Daniel smiled. “No, of course not, Kingsley. What I might suggest, however, is that you would allow me the honor of making the effort on your behalf. Would that be acceptable to you?”
His voice carried an amusing amount of eagerness, and I laughed in spite of myself. “Of course, Mr. Summervale. I would be delighted to entertain your desire to help.” A shadow of suspicion moved through me, but I shook it off. After all, had it not been for Daniel and his cameras, I would not have known of the barrels in the first place. “If I could only urge you to be careful as well, Mr. Summervale. A room of Distillation would hurt you as badly as anyone else.”
He treated my concern with a snort of contempt. A gesture of his hand took in the piles of inventions and tools scattered about the workshop. “Which of the two of us is more aware of how to handle such dangerous material? I will be fine. Just let me know if you find any more clues to the situation.” Daniel paused. His face, though once animated by the chance to help, now fell into a solemn frown. “They mentioned Audrey again, Kingsley. This needs to end, and soon.”
The seriousness of those words was only emphasized further as the memory of his sister’s face rose to my mind. I nodded. In a sudden rush of fraternity, I held out a hand. He grasped it, and we shook as if sealing a pact. “We shall find them, Mr. Summervale. We shall find them, and lay this matter to rest long before their plots unfold. Rest assured of it.”
My words restored the eager animation to Daniel’s face, and I smiled. I released his hand from my own and turned in the general direction of the exit. “Now, if you would be so kind as to guide me to the door, I have another avenue to investigate while I entrust this one to you. Good hunting, Mr. Summervale, to us both.”
The rest of the day lay before me as an open book. With Daniel’s help I could concentrate on a separate portion of the investigation, one I had been meaning to tend to since my discussion with Francis the previous afternoon. My experiments with the various oils had left me with a definite clue as to which general formula had been used in the attacks; now all that remained was to determine which of the various factories in the surrounding area utilized that same lubricant for their machinery, which would aid me in finding the culprits.
With that end in mind, I made my way down to the docks. It was the best destination; after all, I had discovered that the oil usually came from American merchants, and there were not likely to be any local American whalers. I would need to locate a trade ship from our former bellicose colony and wheedle the information on possible buyers from the captain or trade commissioner. It occurred to me that perhaps Patricia might be able to lend me some advice or help with her countrymen, but I did not wish to disturb her own business dealings with such a small matter.
Unfortunately, the port of London was expansive enough to provide me with a plethora of options. It was, after all, the largest port in the world, with a great length of the river Thames monopolized by the bustling trade. In many ways, the Docklands were the heart of London, providing the needed trade and stimulus to industry on which the city depended. While the docks no longer supplied the coal which had once driven the various factories, shipments of food, metal, Distillation and other supplies now flowed through the quays and moorings to support the great work.
My first destination was the Royal Victoria docks, home to a large amount of trade and shipments related to factories. The pneumatic and rail lines fed easily into this part of the Docklands, and the bend of the river where they were located rarely had a moment’s peace without some arrival or departure. My guess was that the factories around the academy utilized these very docks for their supply, given that they were the closest by industrial rail, and if they used the exotic oil I had found in their machinery, it would come through that location as well.
To my good fortune, I almost instantly happened upon a local contact of mine, a lighterman by the name of James Campbell. He waved to me as I approached, and I returned the greeting with a nod. With a roll of his eyes, he opened his arms wide and yelled in his rough Scottish accent, “Well now, here comes the great investigator himself! Come to visit the poor and the friendless among the humble men of the docks. Hector Kingsley, a pleasure to see you again, friend!”
With this exclamation, he clasped my hand with both of his. After a rather rough shake, I glanced about the street. “How have things been going, Mr.Campbell? I trust you have not had further trouble since I last left you.”
Campbell shook his head and grinned. The lopsided twist of his lips gave him a rough mannered kind of charm that was infectious, if a bit too informal for my tastes. “Of course not, Mr. Kingsley, of course not! You handled our little issue quite handily. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of the lot of those Red Banders since that night on the quay.” His smile faded into an uncertain frown. “Why do you ask? Have you heard something?”
“No, Mr. Campbell, I was merely making sure my solution had continued to be effective. I would not want to leave a job poorly done, in any case.” I gave Campbell a half-smile of my own, and his good humor swiftly returned. He slapped me on my back, and as I stumbled slightly forward, I suddenly wondered if Patricia would enjoy meeting this man.
“In that case, let me buy you a drink! We’ve been waiting for a contract all day down in the pub, but business has been a bit light. Not that it’ll stay that way, but it can’t rain every day for farmers, and ships can’t always afford the best crew in the Docklands.”
“I’m afraid the drink may have to wait for another time, Mr. Campbell. I have come on a matter of some urgency.” Concern started to cloud his expression, but I spoke before the question could leave his lips. “Nothing to do with you and yours, I assure you, but it is a rather serious matter involving a school under siege.”
“A school! What kind of coward wars on children?” The disgust in the lighterman’s voice echoed my own feelings on the matter rather well. Campbell crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “Well, whatever help we can give you is yours, Mr. Kingsley. Nothing but the best for the great investigator!”
With that assurance, Campbell walked with me toward the local pub, where the men of his crew were likely waiting. He stepped to the side and opened the door for me. I sighed as I heard cursing and the sounds of a decidedly indelicate tavern song rolled out into the street. The things I was called to do for my clients.