Original: "Trafalgar & Boone," Chapter Ten

[geonncannon]

Still need a few hundred more words to get my NaNo-lite word count for tonight...

Chapter Ten

When Ivy originally staked out the house, she didn’t have to worry about concealing herself from sight. Now that she was visible and partnered with Trafalgar’s lady, they were forced to find a vantage point that wasn’t overly obvious. They broke into another house that looked equally abandoned and set up a little camp on the second floor.

She wasn’t entirely onboard with the theory that knowing the mysterious house was under surveillance would make Quintel show up, but stranger things had happened. Some men liked an audience. She smirked at the thought and glanced over at Leola. The African woman was extremely still and quiet, almost as if she was a wax figure placed in the chair and left to gather dust. Once in a while she drew a deep breath, not quite a sigh, but enough for Ivy to know she was alive and bored. There was no light to play cards, no pen or paper for a game of noughts and crosses, and the effort of staying awake was difficult enough without worrying what the woman sitting across from her might do if she drifted off. She trusted Dorothy, to a degree, but Dorothy hadn’t trusted Trafalgar until that morning. As far as she was concerned she was on a stakeout with the enemy.

When the darkness became infused with color that slowly brightened with the oncoming dawn, Ivy could see Leola’s features more clearly. The woman didn’t seem to have any trouble staying awake. She looked as alert as she had when they first broke into the house and started watching. Ivy needed some sort of stimulation to get through the next hour or so, and finally she cracked and broke the silence.

“So how long have you known Trafalgar?”

“Three years.”

“You met during the war?”

“Yes.”

Ivy waited for her to elaborate. After a moment she sighed and looked out the window again. It was difficult to see in the darkness; the street had no exterior lighting so she was forced to rely on the ambient glow from Quintel’s neighbors. In the time she’d spent watching the house she had become familiar with the shape of the neighborhood; the bow of that tree’s branches and the low brick wall that enclosed that home’s lawn. She would be able to see better if she removed her goggles, but she hadn’t bothered to detail the makeup around her eyes. People tended to panic when they saw ragged open craters where her eyes should be.

“I’ve known Dorothy for years myself. We don’t always agree with each other, but sometimes it’s the fighting that makes life worth living.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t say much, do you?”

Leola looked at her. “I lost my friend today.”

“Right. Sorry about that.”

Leola looked outside again. “The existence of this house proves to you that Felix Quintel is a real person, not an organization using his name as a title.”

Ivy nodded. “That’s right. I’m willing to admit he has followers, people who do his bidding and present a public face to the world. He has his maid picking up groceries for him, after all.”

“His compost heap was rather full.”

“Mm-hmm. I suppose.”

Leola drew a finger along her bottom lip. “His maid is definitely a woman? Not a man in disguise?”

Ivy smiled. “I thought the same thing, but nope. She moves like a woman, but not in a contrived way. It seems too natural to be a put-on. She’s definitely as female and as old as she pretends. She’s just a woman who, according to Lady Boone, should be fired if her job is to clean up the house.”

“It’s Felix Quintel’s house, and yet he is never seen entering or leaving. It’s his home and yet no one seems to live there.” She lifted her chin slightly and raised an eyebrow. “It’s Felix Quintel’s house, but he doesn’t live there.”

“You’ve got the high points, yep.”

“The man who took Trafalgar from her home twenty years ago is represented in a picture in the one furnished room in the house, the house is empty, and Felix Quintel is the purported owner.” She worked her jaw back and forth as she stared out into the darkness. “This is Felix Quintel’s home, but he has not arrived to claim it yet. The guards protect it for his eventual arrival. The maid brings food for the same reason. When a week goes by and he has not come, the food is put in the compost heap and fresh groceries are brought in.”

Ivy leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees. “So where is he?”

“The man in the portrait, Solomon. He attempted to use Trafalgar’s body to summon an entity from the netherworld. She was to be its host, but she thwarted his attempt. The stone with which he was using to draw the being to her body was lost in the Gulf of Aden. He gave his life trying to retrieve it. The house belongs to a man rich enough to build these devices and pay assassins, and yet his garden is overgrown and his home is falling to disrepair.”

Ivy started to say something but didn’t want to risk interrupting the other woman’s train of thought. She seemed to be close to making the final connection, and if doing so got them out of the blasted room, then more the better.

“The group to which Solomon belongs is intent on bringing a creature of great power into this world. Trafalgar foiled their plans twenty years ago without even realizing it. To her it was simply self-preservation. Perhaps that was simply a trial run, as I cannot imagine them putting their messiah into the body of a young female child from Abyssinia. She took away their magic stone and with it their ability to summon a creature to a particular body.” She closed her eyes and held her hand out in front of her as if rearranging pieces of a puzzle. “The War is over. Travel between countries is easier than it was a year ago. Quintel’s men now have the ability to go wherever it is they must be to perform this ritual. But they may not have the means. The War was expensive for everybody, plus there is the cost of maintaining this house and its servants all this time. They may not have the funds to travel. They will require funding, a patron who will hire them for the expedition.”

Ivy said, “And the best way to ensure they are the team chosen is to eliminate anyone else who might take the job. Lady Boone, Trafalgar, the Keepings...”

Leola opened her eyes and looked at Ivy. “Quintel wanted a monopoly on expeditions. He wanted to be the only option when it came time to fund the trip.”

“That was remarkable,” Ivy said.

“It’s my gift. Adeline could see things as they would be, and I could connect disparate facts to see how things are. It takes me a while sometimes, but eventually I can see the entire picture as if it’s drawn on the wall in front of me.” She stood up. “We must find Miss Trafalgar and Lady Boone at once to tell them what we have learned.”

“We?” Ivy questioned.

Leola nodded. “I’m not certain how my gift works, but I know it works best when there is someone with me. Thank you for giving me a focal point for my mental wanderings.”

Ivy chuckled and stood up as well. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but ‘focal point’ is a new one. Considering my gift. Lead the way.”

Ivy wasn’t entirely certain about leaving their post outside of Quintel’s house, but if Leola was correct then it wouldn’t matter if they saw anyone or not.

#

Threnody let them into her lab, and Dorothy was intrigued by seeing the familiar space in a new light. Ordinarily she would have entered from the other side of the room, and now knowing what the rest of the house looked like, she had a new perspective on the cluttered lab. Threnody obviously spent the majority of her time here among her designs and devices. Considering what Dorothy now knew was concealed under the mask she felt sad about how Threnody had cut herself off from the rest of society. She swore that if she was still welcome in Threnody’s home after the current events were finished, she would endeavor to be more friend than client.

Threnody made her way through the maze of tables to a roll-top desk tucked into one corner. It stood at an angle that prevented it from being seen on the other side of the room, reaffirming Dorothy’s feeling of pulling back the curtain to see the workings of the performance. Threnody pushed up the desktop and shuffled around the papers within until she found what she was looking for. She turned back and held up a sheet of paper which had been folded into quarters.

“This is the letter I received from Felix Quintel. It lists the items he required but, as you can see, he gave no indication on whom they would be used. The same goes for all of my clientele. I make what you want and I don’t ask questions.”

Trafalgar took the paper and held it up for Dorothy to see the FQ brand on the front square. “It certainly seems as if it’s our man.”

Dorothy said, “How many devices did you make for him?”

“Seventeen.”

“There could still be some out there.”

Trafalgar nodded. “We’ll speak to Professor Tindall to see which devices have already been found. And he didn’t use one for me. A simple rifle. Nothing fancy... just a bullet in a head. As if we were an afterthought.” She grimaced.

“That’s not true and you know it. He sent Ivy after Abraham Strode. The man utilizes the resources he happens to have at hand. When people will do, he uses them. When a device is the most expedient way to attain his goals...” She ran her eyes down the list. “That doesn’t change the fact that there are a great many items out there either waiting to detonate... or we have several more bodies waiting to be found.” She brushed her thumb over the paper, then held it up to the meager light. “There’s some sort of watermark on the paper. I can’t quite make it out.”

Threnody went to her workbench and turned on one of the lights. Dorothy thanked her quietly and held the sheet of paper over the bulb.

“The Quintel crest, no doubt.”

“Not this time. It appears to be a creature of some sort. The head of a man, the body of a beast...”

Trafalgar said, “A lion?” She moved closer and Dorothy angled the paper so she could see. “The head of a man, the body of a beast, and a pair of great folded wings along its back.”

Dorothy squinted at the smeared and faded insignia. “How on earth can you make out such detail? The paper is old and faded.”

“Yes, but this is not.” She opened her coat to reveal an inside pocket with the same crest sewn into the material. The details were much easier to make out even with the embroidery, but it was undeniably the same as the watermark. “The creature is called a manticore. I read about it when I... inherited the coat. It’s an eater of men. A beast with the mind of a man, the body of a lion, and the teeth of a shark. I always knew it was the symbol of Solomon’s organization, but after the discovery of his portrait yesterday I can no longer deny that his organization is the same one which Quintel heads.”

Threnody said, “Solomon? Enoch Solomon?”

“I never knew his Christian name,” Trafalgar said. “A bald man with a British accent and vaguely saurian features. He... went missing twenty years ago.”

“Then I believe I know the man you’re speaking of. When he disappeared he was the highest ranking member of a sect dedicated to gaining power over the United Kingdom by any means necessary. I thought they vanished when he did, simply fading away without their leader to guide them.” She took the letter back and gazed at the watermark through her goggles. “But if this is their insignia then perhaps they were only hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike.”

“Does this sect have a name?”

“They call themselves the Watershed Society. They believe that can create a situation which will be the tipping point for the future of our world.”

Trafalgar said, “I saw the power they want to tap. It was something large enough to make the seas churn. If these men acquire that power for themselves, there will be no limit to what they can accomplish.”

Threnody said, “I wish I could tell you more about them. All I know is what I’ve gleaned over the years. My father refused to work for them. He saw them as elitist warmongers who only wanted to destroy and build a world of their design from the ashes. I’ve never knowingly worked for them before. I thought they were defunct.”

“They may have silenced themselves in order to prevent anyone from realizing what a threat they posed,” Dorothy said. “Do you have the envelope this came in?”

“I’m afraid I don’t. But there was no further information on it. The envelope lacked a return address or any identifying marks.”

Perhaps to your eyes, Dorothy thought, but she left it unspoken. She scanned the list of items, along with the price the client was willing to pay for each one. At the bottom of the letter, she was instructed to send a note to a post office box. Threnody saw where she was looking and answered Dorothy’s question before she could pose it.

“I sent the letter, obviously. They told me a man would arrive to pick up the finished items on an arranged date. The man was of no consequence, an urchin paid to do some heavy lifting. I made no note of his features so I couldn’t hope to track him down again.”

“A shame,” Dorothy said. “Perhaps something can be gleaned from the letter itself, or the post office box. I may have Beatrice stake it out to see if it’s still in use by the Society.” She held up the letter again. “May I keep this? I’ll return it when this business is complete.”

“I don’t see any need to have it back.”

Dorothy nodded her thanks and placed the letter into her pocket. “I suppose there’s little else we can gain here. We should check in on Ivy and Leola, see if they’ve found anything. Threnody... thank you for your help. And I cannot apologize enough for...”

Threnody cut her off with a wave of her hand. “Please, I would prefer to forget it ever happened. And if I provided the Watershed Society with the means to kill my other clients, then I’m glad you burst in the way you did. Take them down and I will consider us square.”

Dorothy nodded and touched the brim of her hat. They left through the alley entrance so they wouldn’t violate Threnody’s refuge any more than they already had. When they reached the street Beatrice saw them and started the car to come pick them up. Dorothy put her glasses back on and looked at Trafalgar. When she became aware of the scrutiny she met Dorothy’s gaze.

“Will you be all right with this?” Dorothy asked. “These people have tried to kill you twice, by the looks of it.”

“I will be fine. They’ve tried to kill me twice, and they have failed. Now it is my turn.”

Dorothy grinned. “Jolly good point of view.” Beatrice stopped the car and Dorothy opened the door for her. When they were seated she told Beatrice to take them back to Threadneedle Street. She waited until they were underway before she spoke. “We now know who we’re up against. I want to see if Des is waiting for me at home before we venture out to Kew Gardens. There’s a chance he’s heard of this Watershed Society. He may even know some members.”

“We also must be wary of further attempts on our lives. Seventeen devices does not necessarily mean there were seventeen victims.”

“A salient point,” Dorothy said. “He may have contingency plans for those who didn’t fall victim to yesterday’s attacks. We should warn the Keepings and Mr. Strode to be on their toes until this sordid business is finished.”

When they arrived they found Desmond’s car parked in front of the house, with Leola waiting on the front stoop. Beatrice let them out so they wouldn’t have to walk, then continued on to park the car where it wouldn’t be in the way. Ivy’s absence was disturbing to Dorothy, so she asked after the private consultant before Leola had even gotten to her feet.

“Her makeup was fading, so she asked Professor Tindall if she could wait inside. She didn’t want to upset any of the pedestrians.”

“Ah, I see. You would have been more than welcome to wait inside as well. You didn’t have to wait for an invitation.”

“Yes, I did,” Leola said. “Would’ve been rude not to.”

“Then by all means, let us all go inside. We have a great many revelations to share.”

“I may have a revelation of my own to provide,” Leola said. “Watching an empty house all night was just what I needed to put together a few pieces of this puzzle.”

Dorothy gestured at the front door. “Then by all means, lead the way.”

They entered and found Ivy waiting in the lounge. She had borrowed some makeup to freshen her disguise and was speaking with Desmond about her condition. When Dorothy, Trafalgar, and Leola joined them the conversation shifted to the newly-identified Watershed Society. Desmond affirmed he had heard the name whispered around campus from time to time, and he recognized the crest when Trafalgar showed the embroidery inside her coat. Leola put forth her theory that the house was being held in anticipation of Felix Quintel’s ascendance, which Trafalgar agreed with.

“They are looking for a leader. They want someone to serve. Whether my experience twenty years ago was a dry run or not, I foiled their attempts by stealing the stone away from them. I spit it into the Gulf of Aden and their de facto leader went into the water with it.”

Dorothy said, “So even if you are responsible for the Watershed Society getting this journal back, you are also responsible for crippling their efforts when you were just a child. I would say that more than makes up for the journal.”

Trafalgar met Dorothy’s eye and nodded quickly, thanking her for absolving her guilt. “But that is moot. They are obviously moving quickly now. I can only imagine that means they found the stone.”

“Or they know where they can find another,” Desmond offered.

“Yes,” Dorothy said. “They are eliminating anyone else who could take a commission. They want the field clear so they are the only option when they seek funding.”

Trafalgar said, “If there is another stone, they cannot be allowed to find it.”

“Definitely not,” Dorothy said. “But how can we prevent them? They have all the cards at the moment and we’re not even sitting at the table. We don’t know where the stone is, we don’t know who is involved in this society, and we have no way of getting any information without the society learning we’ve figured out as much as we have.”

Ivy said, “You could force their hand.”

Desmond said, “How so?”

Ivy shrugged. “You don’t know where the stone is, but you are confident it’s out there somewhere. I would be willing to bet all these murders on a single day means the society is ready to move. They will most likely try to clean up their loose ends...” She nodded at Trafalgar and Boone, “...and then they will head out to retrieve their prize. They’ve waited twenty years, so I imagine they will be very eager to get underway. But if they try to kill you again only to discover you’re alive, that you’ve spent the past twenty-four hours digging into their society, and that you are preparing to take a long journey, they will have to assume you know everything. They will set out immediately and you can follow them.”

Dorothy raised an eyebrow. “It would be a way to ensure they don’t go after anyone else here in London. If they believe they’re trying to keep ahead of us, they’ll be less likely to think we’re following them.”

Ivy nodded. “And of course you could always increase your odds by putting a stowaway on their ship. One they’ll never see coming.” She smiled.

Trafalgar said, “How will you know which ship is theirs?”

“I’ll ask around. It’ll lend credence to the idea that you know more than you really do. Once I know which ship belongs to Watershed, I’ll get aboard and see what I can overhear.”

Desmond said, “If she can tell me which ship is theirs, I can keep an eye on the Rookery and wire you when they’ve taken off in pursuit.”

Dorothy and Trafalgar looked at each other, and Dorothy shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. And it would be a far sight better than just sitting here waiting for them to take another shot at us.”

Trafalgar sighed. “I suppose that is true. And if they don’t take the bait we can simply turn the ship around and return home.” She stood up. “Leola and I shall return home to pack. We should be ready by... shall we say one? Will that give you enough time to arrange for transportation?”

Dorothy grinned. “Oh, plenty of time. I already have a ship to take us wherever we want to go.”