His valet drew a deep breath. “Mercury fulminate.”
* * *
A spin of the gears brought the chemical sample into focus. Wrexford was momentarily mesmerized by the sight. Under the high-powered magnification, its crystal structure had a striking abstract beauty. That such tiny elemental particles could combine in so many infinitely complex ways was still a source of never-ending fascination to him. Science was full of wonders.
And terrors, if Drummond was to be believed.
“Explain to me why you thought that,” he said, bringing his thoughts back to the problem at hand. His valet was a meticulous researcher and rarely jumped to wrong conclusions.
“Based on Drummond’s accusation and the recent thefts of mercury, it’s a logical deduction. Land discovered the compound twelve years ago, and wrote extensively about its properties.” Tyler picked up one of the open books that were stacked along the work counter. “He presented a paper to the Royal Society called ‘On a New Fulminating Mercury,’ which was subsequently published in the Society’s journal.”
“Philosophical Transactionsis a very well-known scientific publication,” interjected Wrexford for Charlotte’s benefit.
“At the time, there was great debate on how such a powerful substance might be used in practical applications,” explained Tyler. “The thing is, if it’s mercury fulminate, interest in it quickly died out because of its extremely unstable volatility.”
His interest in chemistry was in other areas, however. Wrexford vaguely recalled reading about it. “One possible use was in mine excavation, wasn’t it?”
“Correct.” Tyler’s expression tightened. “But what sparked an even greater interest was whether it could be used to revolutionize the way weapons fire bullets.”
Charlotte’s brows pinched together in puzzlement. “How could that be possible?”
“As we just saw, it’s a more powerful explosive than gunpowder. A number of inventors discussed the possibility of making a chemical primer encased in a copper cap to replace the traditional firing mechanisms,” replied Tyler. “The caplock system would make a weapon quicker to load, and be far more effective than gunpowder in damp weather.”
He reached for one of the other books stacked on the counter. “In fact, a Scottish clergyman by the name of Alexander Forsyth invented just such a cap in 1807. But it was deemed impractical because mercury fulminate was considered too unstable—and too dangerous.”
She still looked mystified.
Tyler’s explanation sparked something in Wrexford’s memory. He took up a pencil and piece of paper from the worktable and drew a quick sketch. “Yes, yes—now I recall the concept. Pistols and muskets could easily be redesigned, eliminating the flint, frizzen, and flashpan. Boring out the flash hole would allow the insertion of a small cylinder with a tiny nipple at one end. A cap would be inserted into the cylinder, like so.”
He added a few details to the diagram. “Pulling the trigger would release the hammer, which would strike the cap holding the mercury fulminate. The nipple would pierce the cap, igniting the chemical—and bang, the bullet and powder charge in the barrel would fire.”
“It would no longer be necessary to use fiddle with a powder horn to load the flashpan,” added Tyler. “One would simply insert a cap, saving precious seconds during the heat of battle.”
“Mother of God,” she whispered as the import of the invention dawned on her. “Anyone who possessed such a weapon would have an unbeatable military advantage against any adversary, wouldn’t they?”
“Precisely,” said Wrexford grimly.
“Yes, but as I said, tests showed mercury fulminate was too unstable to be reliable. It tended to explode unexpectedly, so any plans for practical use died,” pointed out the valet.
“That was back at the dawn of the century,” murmured Wrexford. “Since then, we’ve made great strides in science. There are new discoveries being made all the time.”
He drummed his fingertips together and shot a sidelong look at the glass vial. But as he studied the crystals, something didn’t look quite right. “Have you a list of all the elements that make up mercury fulminate?”
“Yes,” answered Tyler.
“Read them to me.”
“Mercury, acqua fortis . . .”
The earl made a few adjustments to the lenses as Tyler rattled off more chemicals, enlarging the specimen’s magnification. “No sulfur?”
“Not according to Land’s recipe.”
Wrexford was positive that this compound contained the mineral. But several of the other ingredients were puzzling. “Come have a look,” he said to Tyler. “Any idea what the diamond-clear granules might be? Or that pulverized greenish powder.”
The valet took his time in studying the material. “I haven’t a clue,” he admitted.
Several ideas came to mind. Highly unusual ones. But science was all about tossing aside preconceived notions. “Prepare some acids for testing.” Wrexford picked up the glass vial and grimaced. There was precious little with which to work. They would have to be precise.
