Cogs in Time Anthology (The Steamworks Series) (12 page)

******

Max had his own part to play, while Adrian and Cassie took the airships to the markets in the sky. His hands shook from need as he stared across the room at the promised release the bottle of whiskey would offer him. Without Cassie there to remind him of the glimmer of hope he had, the want of an escape plagued him as he awaited the arrival of his unwelcomed guest.

Without realizing it, he rose from the chair and took a single step toward the object of his thirst. Suddenly he felt parched, his throat drying up and closing in as he watched the light from the window play inside the amber liquid. Another step, he couldn’t fight it, he needed her or needed a drink. His fingers brushed the glass just as the dreaded knock sounded three times at the door.

“Maxwell Gauswald, open up. Wren City Police.” The gruff voice of Chief Oswald Haniker was barely muffled by the door separating him from Max.

Turning away from the bottle, Max tried to stop the shaking in his hands. He had never feared the police before, but things had changed. Without his liquid courage, and knowing he had put both him and Cassandra at great risk, he fought his inner demons for control as he opened the door.

“Chief Haniker,” he said as he bowed. “What brings you to my humble house here in the Downs?”

“Don’t give me any shit, Max. We know she’s here, now, let us in so we can return her to her father.” The chief’s fat round face was red with irritation as his signature twitch made his thick, white mustache bounce on one side.

“Who?” Max did his best to look surprised, but he doubted his acting skills after they had lain dormant for so long.

“Don’t play dumb with me, boy. We are looking for Cassandra Dalton and you know it.” Using his oversized belly, Chief Haniker pushed his way inside, followed by two lanky, young detectives.

“Cassie? She’s come back?” Max slunk down in the chair by the fire place, doing his best to look like a love-struck man who had just learned the object of his heart had returned without a word to him. “When did she come home? Is she…well?”

“That’s what we’d like to know.” One of the fresh-faced detectives turned on him, his height making him look like a giant in the cramped space. “She ran off last night in a fit, and the mayor is beside himself. They think she may be dangerous to herself, seems she’s had a bit of a break down. That’s why she had to return from The University, she isn’t too stable.”

The man, his nametag read Officer Theodore Tolen, waited for Max’s reply with one eyebrow raised. The ploy was an old one, not very original. By lying and insulting Cassie, they hoped to draw his protective instincts out and make him slip up in his anger. Max, however, had played the game to many times.

“Oh, that’s terrible. So sad when a young girl’s sensibilities fail like that, my poor Cassandra.” Turning his eyes up to the chief, he added, “You know, I loved her once. Look around, boyos, you will find nothing here of hers. She has been gone from my life for a long, long time.”

The two detectives poked around the limited contents of the small room as Chief Haniker sat down across from Max. “Do you know where Adrian Westing, Justice Cavoriti, Julius Granger, or Barington Cross can be found, or if she would turn to them?” The man’s entire demeanor was that of the hardened street cop who had seen the worst of the world, but his tone was a little softer as he spoke.

“I’d be hard-pressed to give you any information about Adrian. We have barely spoken since…” Max let his words trail off as he gestured to where the timepiece lay hidden under his shirt. “Julius Granger went straight after the revolution. I see him from time to time. He works in his father’s factory as far as I know. Doesn’t have much use for a man like me.”

Max tried to keep his knowledge of his old friends and revolution captains hidden, it wouldn’t be unusual to know a bit about them, but he didn’t want to reveal more than anyone needed to know. If the connections between them were studied, their plan wouldn’t be hard to figure out.

Haniker nodded, wrote in his little notebook, and asked, “What about Barrington or Justice—”

The other detective, Officer George Roeman, found a ladies’ garter belt peeking out from beneath the bed covers, and held it up, interrupting Haniker’s question. “Hey, boss, look what we’ve got here. Looks to be good quality, too, not something the street rats would wear.”

Max’s heart stopped at the sight of the blue lace undergarment, but to his disbelief, timing was on his side for once.

“Just what about Justice would you be wanting to know, Chief Haniker? Looking to lock me up again?” The female voice sounded from the doorway, causing the men to turn. “I swear I’ve been a good girl.”

The redheaded vixen swished across the room, plucked the garter from the shock-faced officer, and turned as she tossed it to Max. “Just ask my Maxipoo here, I’ve been doing real good, and I’d appreciate you keeping your dirty paws off my things.”

Max grinned like a schoolboy as Justice snuggled up on his lap and traced one, long, blood-red nail down his cheek. Justice, the wild child, had always played the harlot well, too well in fact. There had been a time or two that she’d actually taken the play acting to heart and filled her purses with the mark’s bills, and got caught doing so.

“So, Ms. Cavoriti, you’re telling me that you are…seeing…Mr. Gauswald in a…err…romantic fashion or is this business?” Though the idea of discussing Justice’s sexual escapades was uncomfortable, the officer had to ask.

“Why do you ask? You offering to fill my bed and my pockets, or are you just being nosey?” Justice was as mean as a wet cat when she wanted to be.

Maxwell took the girl’s hand as he tried to settle her. “Justice, Chief Haniker is asking because they say Cassandra came back to town, and now she is missing. They thought she might be here. Apparently, she has lost her senses.”

Justice’s green eyes flashed with jealous anger. “You dare come here asking about that high-stepping, little tramp. Why don’t you go ask her daddy where the silly nut job is? Get out! Get out, now. All three of you. I’m telling you, neither Max nor I want anything to do with her. If she comes around here, all she’s going to get is her rich little butt knocked in the dirt.”

The chief stood, glaring at the woman as if he would gladly knock her on her derriere, and called his detectives to attention. “Come on, boys, I believe our work here is done.” Directing his attention to Max and Justice, he nodded his head. “If you hear anything, you know how to find me. You had better hope I don’t find out that you did something to this girl, Ms. Cavoriti, or else I’ll punch your time card myself.”

As soon as the door shut behind them, Justice smacked both hands over her mouth and giggled into her palms. Her pale cheeks flushed with excitement as she leapt off Max’s lap and moved to the window to make sure the police were out of earshot. Peering inconspicuously through the frayed lace curtains, still trying not to laugh aloud, she watched until they were gone.

“Oh, Max, that was loads of fun. Did you see the piggy’s face when I took that garter?” She grabbed the bottle of whiskey and plopped down in a chair of her own, and took a long draught.

“Justice, it’s good to see you, lady, but did you have to go on and on like that?” Max was half staring at the bottle move from her lips while fighting to meet her eyes.

“You know they were about to bust you. I had to do something, old boy, and you know I play the part so very well.” She laughed, hit the bottle again, and offered it to him.

Max shook his head, “Got to keep a clear head for this one, Justice. You’re right, and you did good. The less they have to connect her with me, the better. Hey, what are you doing here anyway?”

“Adrian sent me a note, said I should stop by because Cassie was back and the pot was on the fire.” Giving him a wink, she asked, “So what you got cooking, Max. Are we going to rob the reserve or what?”

******

The Sky Market was everything Cassie had dreamed it to be. Wandering the narrow rows between carts, shops, and pedestrian crowds, she continuously found her eyes drawn to the passing clouds. The festive and energy charged atmosphere helped to lift the chill left by the
mortech, until she happened to pause at a jewelry cart. The vendor’s items were the same as any other market she had visited, except for a single locked case.

Cassie suddenly felt as if her stomach had dropped to her feet as she peered through the glass at the decorative casings, hand-carved dials, and gilded faceplates that boasted clockwork scenes
. The idea of the people embracing the atrocity the Time Clock had brought to them stared at her from the diamond eyes of a clockwork panda.

“Looking for a new bauble, darling. I think this one would be perfect for such a lady.” The stall keeper tapped one long dirty nail on the glass above the panda. “Good luck, the little bears are supposed to be.”

Cassie stammered, unable to form words, as she stared at the old woman’s creviced and haggard face. The shawl covering her head looked ancient and worn, and her dress had seen better days. Despite her obvious poverty, gold caps gleamed between the woman’s cracked lips in a strange smile, while gems and jewels adorned her fingers.

Starving, poor, and selling death devices to the rich for pennies on the dollar, and yet covered in glitter and gold. This is why we fought the revolution, for this filth?
The thought formed in Cassie’s brain and hovered on the razor sharp edge of her tongue. Only Adrian’s interference kept her from spewing them like poisoned darts at the woman.

“Cassandra, it’s time to go. You have enough pretty baubles.” Grabbing her arm, he steered her away as if he were a devoted husband, and she the spoiled wife.

Wanting nothing more than to spew a rancid stream of unladylike curses, Cassie clamped her lips down into a hard line and glared straight ahead. The entire market had lost its glamour for her in a single interaction. Instead of glorious and exciting, it became just another tool of society to control the poor and make the rich richer.

Adrian allowed her the time to pout as he steered her off the main thoroughfare and down a small side alley. They had been walking for several minutes before Cassie noticed that the scenery had drastically changed. Sweeping her eyes over the dusty shop windows, broken shutters, and shadowy figures lurking at a discreet distance, she shuddered.

Her voice was barely a whisper as she asked, “What are we doing here, Adrian? I thought we were coming to visit a friend.” They had told her little of what to expect on the trip, and trusting Max as she did, she hadn’t bothered to ask.

“We are, my pet. We are. Let’s just say that we decided it would be best to keep this meeting as private as we could.” Adrian grinned at her discomfort.

Before Cassie could ask any more questions or begin to protest, Adrian stepped up to a door that held no sign or address and knocked. A familiar face appeared on the other side of the murky glass, causing her to burst into a fit of laughter. The crazy goggles balanced on the long nose and held on by straps that ran behind two giant ears would have been funny on their own, but the way the lenses magnified the already large, brown eyes was hilarious.

The door flung open and Cassandra flew into Julius Granger’s arms. “You haven’t changed a bit, Julius. I’ve missed you so!” Looking down at the only man she had ever known to be shorter than her own five-foot stature, Cassie beamed.

“You have only grown lovelier with time, Cassie dear.” Then as if remembering the meeting was meant to be clandestine, he pushed the strange glasses up to the top of his head and looked anxiously from side to side. “Come in, come in. We shouldn’t dawdle about here on the street.”

The inside of the small shop was filthy. Thick cobwebs hung in the corners of the main room, and an inch of dust layered the sparse furnishings. The only thing that looked as if it had seen life in years was the small boiler that inhabited one corner of the room and pumped steam into the radiator type heaters.

“Ignore all this, it’s just for show. Most of the dust is courtesy of my housekeeper back down on the Mainland.” Julius led them though a door and into another world. The gaslights provided dim, but sufficient lighting, and a fireplace held low flames flickering within. Though the various tables held all sorts of mixtures, gadgets, odds, and ends, the room was clean of dust and cobwebs.

“Well, Jules, I see you are still the mad scientist of the group. What is it that you and Max have been keeping such a secret?” Cassandra ran one delicate finger over an odd-looking dial.

The back door opened and a man appeared, shadowed by the light pouring in behind him. “Max, what are you doing here? You aren’t supposed to leave the house. Have you forgotten the plan, man?” Adrian’s frustration showed clearly on his face as he shoved his thumbs into his vest pockets and shook his head.

“Adrian! You can’t expect him to just sit and wait.” Cassandra moved across the room toward Max, the odd fact that he hadn’t yet spoken or moved further into the room niggling at the back of her mind. “Come in here, Max, and let us in on the plan.”

She reached his side and gasped, backing away much quicker than she had moved forward. The resemblance was uncanny, but the eyes were all wrong. The same type of glassy, dead eyes that had peered back at her from the woman at the train station stared at her from her lover’s face. Panic struck her heart and head simultaneously, leaving her stammering.