Quicksilver - Amanda Quick [44]
What concerned her about Newton was that he was using the toys far too often. If he got careless the police might stumble onto her profitable little sideline. The police, however, did not worry her nearly as much as Arcane’s new psychical investigation agency did. Rumor had it that the firm of Jones & Jones had assumed the responsibility of looking into crimes of a paranormal nature. Not that the agency had any right to interfere in the private business affairs of those who happened to possess a little talent, she thought. Nevertheless, she did not want any trouble from that quarter. The Joneses were a dangerous lot.
“I don’t have any more curiosities prepared, Mr. Newton,” she said. She bustled around behind the counter, instinctively putting some distance and some glass between herself and the client. “I thought I made it clear that my special curiosities are made to order. It takes time to infuse the energy into the glass.”
“Yes, yes, I know. I want you to start work immediately. I am in something of a hurry.”
She cleared her throat discreetly. “May I ask if there was a problem with any of the other curiosities that you purchased? Did they fail to work?”
“No, no, they functioned as you said they would. But I need more power. I have concluded that if I employ several of them at once I will be able to achieve the effect I require.”
She hesitated. The sad truth was that the pursuit of her art took money, a great deal of it. There was never enough. The fine materials and components required to create the curiosities were expensive. Many of her clients had trouble coming up with the rental fee, but Newton never questioned her prices. Clients who did not try to bargain were scarce and, therefore, valuable.
“I suppose I could have some more curiosities ready for you in three days,” she said finally.
“Excellent. Remember, they must be as powerful as you can make them.”
“I will see what I can do,” she said briskly. “But I must have the full amount in advance.”
He was not pleased with that, but he did not argue. “Very well.”
She waved a hand to indicate the several curiosities on display. “You may choose the ones you want me to enhance.”
“Let’s start with the Queen,” Mr. Newton said. “She’ll be quite appropriate for what I have in mind.”
SEVENTEEN
Virginia followed Owen through the iron gate and into the night-shrouded gardens that surrounded the Hollister mansion. She contemplated the darkened house from beneath the hood of her long gray cloak. The windows appeared to be fashioned of obsidian. They glinted, black and opaque, in the moonlight. No gaslight or candles lit the interior of the house. There was no sign of a glowing hearth.
“You were right,” she said. “It does appear to be vacant.”
There was a muted clang of iron on iron as Owen closed the gate.
“I made a few inquiries. I learned that Lady Hollister dismissed the staff very early on the morning after we found Hollister’s body,” he said. “A discreet undertaker took away the body. No one has seen Lady Hollister since that day.”
“Where did she go?”
“No one seems to know. Hollister had a country house in the north. She may have gone there by train.”
“One can hardly blame her for wanting to escape this dreadful place.”
They made their way into the old drying shed. Nothing inside had been disturbed, as far as Virginia could tell. She waited while Owen turned up the lantern. When the yellow light flared they started down the stone steps into the ancient abbey ruins beneath the mansion. She sensed Owen heightening his talent.
“Do you perceive anything?” she asked.
“Nothing to indicate fresh violence,” he said. “But the old energy is still here. He brought the girls in through this passageway and removed the bodies the same way. That kind of thing soaks into the very walls.”
“Just as it does into mirrors.”
“I suspect that there is a second entrance inside the house.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Convenience, if nothing else.”
They went past a familiar intersection.