A chill licked down her spine. She shifted uncertainly, trying to swallow her fear. Had her instincts been wrong? As if taunting her doubts, the shadows came cruelly alive, flitting and rippling under her confused gaze.
But suddenly a distinct shape materialized at the corner of the building. A silhouette of a man, stark black against the dark-on-dark charcoal swirling. It was gone in an instant, hidden by the unyielding stone—
Thwack!
A rock ricocheted off one of the pristine pillars, then several more.
Charlotte bit back a cry as the boys ran closer and flung another fusillade at the stately entrance.
The main door flung open. “Oy!” A beefy guard lumbered out, waving a cudgel. “Be off with you or I’ll call for the authorities!”
Raven shouted an obscenity as he reared back and launched a missile that hit the man square in the chest.
Enraged, the guard stumbled down the steps, bellowing for help from the night watchman who patrolled the local streets.
The boys backed off, just slowly enough to invite a chase.
Run!Charlotte kept the warning bottled up as she knew what they were doing. Though she didn’t see the earl slip into the building, she was sure he was already inside.
Raven must have sensed it too—or more likely, Wrexford, with the focus of his scientific precision, had spelled out exactly how long the diversion should last. No matter how angry with him she was at the moment, she didn’t believe he would expose them to foolhardy risk.
Sure enough, after tossing a few more insults at the guard, the boys broke into a run and were gone in the blink of an eye.
Charlotte had seen enough. She slipped away from her hiding place. But instead of retracing her steps east, she turned and headed west.
* * *
Forty . . . forty-one . . . forty-two . . .Moving noiselessly across the wide entrance hall, Wrexford entered the stairwell and descended to the basement well ahead of schedule.
“Well done, weasels,” he murmured as he paused to pull the picklocks from his boot. Less than a minute had now passed since the first stone had been thrown. The boys should be flying for home.
Assuming Raven obeyed his orders to the letter. The guard, he knew, couldn’t outrace a slug. But unexpected complications could happen....
The earl forced such worries from his head. The boy was bright and understood that the streets were always teeming with unexpected dangers.
Easing the basement door open, he hurried down the pitch-black corridor, navigating by touch rather than sight. Lowell’s laboratory was the last one on the left, the entrance hidden behind a jog in the wall. He felt around for the keyhole, and after exploring the opening chose two of his thinnest probes.
Practice had been a wise precaution. The supervisor had installed a complicated German puzzle lock. A difficult challenge.
Snick.But not impossible.
After closing the door behind him and rebolting it, he lit his tiny lantern, courtesy of Lowell’s ingenious invention. Tyler had only recently received a supply from Scotland of the highly reliable lucifer matches. The irony was amusing, but only for an instant. If what he suspected was true, the brilliant chemist’s talents had been turned to far darker pursuits.
He turned and shadows spooked to life, their crypt-like leers a taunting reminder that death was taking perverse pleasure in following his every move. Angling the beam of light to the near corner of the laboratory, Wrexford began a methodical search of the space.
After a half hour of peering and poking into every nook and cranny, he sat down at the desk and steepled his fingers. A prayer to the Almighty? Divine intervention was unlikely to save a sinner such as himself. He would have to rely on his own wits.
Ah, but I like conundrums.
He tap-tapped his fingertips together. The place was spotless. Too spotless. The display cases of exotic butterflies, prominently arranged on the work counters according to color, had nary a speck of dust on the glass. As to any chemical components, only a rudimentary assortment of glass beakers and metal crucibles was in the storage cabinets, and the spirit lamp’s gleaming brass bespoke of its never having been used.
Leaning back, Wrexford closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. And yet a faint whiff of acid tinged the air.
The laboratory itself may not have been used for clandestine activities, but some chemical compound had recently been stored here. So far, Lowell had outwitted them all, but however diabolically clever, no man was perfect. There had to be a clue as to what it was.
He just had to find it.
Taking up the lantern, the earl returned to his original starting point and began again, this time looking more carefully for any signs of hidden compartments or places of concealment. The work was tedious, and his candle was soon burned down to a stub. He stopped to slide in a replacement, gauging that he had perhaps an hour left before the city streets began to stir.
