“I arrested you tonight so that we might speak as equals,” he said.
“Equals? A teenaged girl and Scotland Yard’s finest detective?”
“We in the King’s Club are modern thinkers. A woman could gain great power in our midst. The daughter of Henri Moreau would be highly respected. I’ll even get rid of that fool Dr. Hastings for you. There aren’t many places that can offer you all that.”
I studied the lines of his face carefully. His mouth didn’t twitch. Hand didn’t scratch his nose. He was telling the truth—or at least one aspect of the truth.
He continued, “If you wish to influence our decisions regarding the future of your father’s research, then join us. We would listen to what you have to say. And in turn, we might be able to convince you of some of the positive implications of your father’s work. Don’t be so quick to judge without first considering all the information. We’ve convinced many doubting men of the validity of what we’re trying to accomplish.”
He was quite serious. A Scotland Yard inspector offering me an official role in determining the fate of my father’s research, amid the most powerful men in the greatest country in the world.
I couldn’t deny there was something appealing about the offer. Women were relegated to the bedroom or the tea salon in this city. No positions of power, authority, influence. Elizabeth’s fate told me that. A clever woman like her, interested in medicine, had been forced to live at the edges of the world to rule her own life.
But Newcastle was a fool if he thought I might ever be able to see the positive ramifications of Father’s work. I knew the results of Father’s work all too well, chained in the root cellar of the professor’s house.
“The devil take you and your offer,” I said.
His left eyebrow arched. “I must ask you to reconsider. The future of scientific achievement hangs in the balance.”
The carriage hit another rut and we both jostled. One thing I was certain of: his words might be polite, but they were a threat just the same. Side with him or face a prison cell.
“My answer is the same,” I said.
Newcastle rubbed his chin, considering my words. “I’m afraid I can’t take no for an answer. All your talents would be lost behind bars, talents that are very useful to us. We’re a partnership, you see; each of us has a role. The members of Parliament keep the government in support of our businesses. Men like Radcliffe fund operations and provide discreet transportation for our products. Arthur Kenney tailors the newspaper headlines to read just what we want them to read.”
“And your role in all of this?”
“To control the police force, of course. To hunt down Moreau’s creation under the guise of an investigation for a mass murderer.” He took one final puff of his pipe. “And some of the more distasteful tasks, I’m afraid. I’m the newest member—it was part of initiation.”
“What was?”
He set his pipe down. “Murdering your guardian.”
I cried out, lunging for his pipe with the intention to bash it through his nose into his brain. But he’d anticipated that, and held me back against the soft velvet seat.
“I admire your bravery, but I will need you to reconsider. I would hate to kill such a pretty young thing. Lucy would be inconsolable.”
I dug my nails into his fine velvet seat, ripping the fabric. “You’re as mad as my father was!”
“I’m determined. There’s a difference.”
With a panicked whinny from one of the horses, the carriage jerked to a sudden halt.
I heard a shuffle outside, followed by a quick yell from the driver. The cab jolted, then rocked back and forth, the lantern flickered wildly. Newcastle was thrown against the opposite bench.
The door flew open.
“Balthazar!” I cried as his hulking figure filled the doorway. Newcastle’s eyes went wide at the sight of him. That pause was all I needed for Balthazar to haul me, still wrapped in Newcastle’s coat, out of the carriage. My bare feet touched frozen pavement, where Sharkey yipped with his tail wagging. Newcastle reached after me, but Balthazar caught his arm and wrenched him from the carriage, knocking his head cleanly against the door. The inspector slumped to the pavement next to the equally unconscious driver.
Balthazar pointed a meaty finger to Sharkey. “He came to the house. Montgomery didn’t understand what he wanted, but I did.”
“He led you to us.”
“Yes,” Balthazar said, bending down to pat the little bug-eyed dog. “Good dog.”
“Indeed. I owe you both my thanks, but now we must run,” I said. “I’ve a place in Shoreditch that Newcastle doesn’t know about. Will you take me there?”
Balthazar picked me up in Newcastle’s thick coat, since I could hardly walk the frozen streets barefoot, and with Sharkey trotting alongside us, carried me through the snow.
THIRTY-SEVEN
I HADN’T RETURNED TO my attic chamber since the night I warned Edward about the King’s Club. Once there, I sent Balthazar back to tell Montgomery what had happened. I was left alone in the quiet room, only my memories for company. I used to long for solitude like this.
Without Edward or me here to care for them, the roses had wilted, filling the room with an earthy scent of sweet decay. The threadbare quilt was pooled on the dusty floor, and I knelt to shake it out and draw it around my frozen shoulders, then crawled into the single bed still dressed in my clothes, where for once I slept a dreamless sleep.
It couldn’t have been more than an hour or two before a frantic knock woke me with a jolt. I was terrified until I heard Montgomery’s voice. I threw open the door, and he pulled me into his arms.
“Balthazar told me what happened,” he said. “I came immediately, and Balthazar, too. He’s going to sleep on the landing downstairs, keeping guard.” His cheek nuzzled my own. “I’ll murder that bastard Newcastle myself.”
I pulled him inside and closed the door. “It won’t do any good. He isn’t working alone. If you killed him, you’d have half the police force in London after you.” I sat on the bed again, amid the traces of lingering warmth.
“Newcastle will likely send more officers to arrest you,” Montgomery said. “Elizabeth has a plan to set it up so it appears you’ve fled. We’ll sneak you back into the professor’s house once it gets light.”
“And Edward?”
“He was unconscious when I left.”