Nero's Fiddle (31 page)

Connor let out a soft whistle. “If the queen is offing people who know something about her parentage, do you really want to piss her off?”

Fraser punched his sergeant in the arm, a rare smile on his face. “I’m well used to annoying the aristocracy. Send a message to Lady Lyons, see if she can trace the artifact to anyone connected with the royal family.”

The frown still occupied space between Connor’s brows. “What about the midwife though, Foreman? How would she be involved?”

“How indeed.” Fraser picked up the signet ring. “This is the final clue, I have only to find out who it came from and why. Thank you for the tea, Connor, it will recharge my brain.”

Taking a large slurp of hot, sweet tea he dropped into his chair.

“You need to go home and shave. You look awful,” Connor said. “Before your mind disappears chasing rabbits, I have another little piece of news for you.”

Fraser’s head shot up. “Oh?”

“Your man in the rookeries is getting close.” Connor picked up the overcoat on the floor and hung it on the rack behind the door.

“How close?” Fraser dared not breathe; this could be the break he pinned his hopes on.

“Saul Brandt’s daughter is not happy about her dad being offed.” Next Connor tidied a pile of reports on the chair and placed them on an empty shelf. “When she’s in her cups, she does an awful lot of angry talking.”

Fraser let out a whistle. “He is close. Tell him to stay quiet and keep his ears open and let me know when she is angry enough to come forward.”

Connor gave a salute. “He knows. You don’t ask questions in that place unless you really like fish and want to end up in the Thames.” Impromptu housekeeping done, he headed out the door.

Pushing aside the Rookery murders, Fraser turned to the book before him.

It took another two hours and the assistance of a magnifying glass to find the matching crest.

“It’s a phoenix,” he muttered. His finger rested on the small text as he identified the relevant house and then he let out a whistle. “The Earl of Morton.” He stared at the little ring, the legendary bird rising from the flames licking at its feet. “I don’t like coincidences, especially not those that touch the Lady Lyons and her family.”

Ideas and theories spun in his brain as he moved from his office down the stairs to where the street-level Enforcers worked. He sought out Connor in the crowded and noisy floor. Pickpockets and bobtails sat on wooden benches along the walls, waiting to be released after a night in the cells. He danced out of the way of two large Enforcers who manhandled a struggling ruffian to the underground prison.

Connor sat at a large desk, staring at the keys on a typewriter as he tapped out a prostitute’s name, one painfully slow letter after another.

“Another trip to the country, my friend. This time to Leicester.” He held up the little ring.

“You found where it came from?”

Fraser couldn’t keep the grin from his face. “Oh yes. And I think Lady Lyons will want to be present for this particular conversation. I shall ask her to join us there tomorrow.”

London, Tuesday 11
^th
February, 1862

he knock on the bedroom door came just before dawn. Cara pulled herself awake as Nate rose and spoke to the man outside. He returned to bed with a strip of paper and flicked on the small bedside light.

“For you, from Fraser. Also, apparently there is an issue we need to deal with at Cleopatra’s Needle.”

Cara sat up and took the slip. “Urgent issue at Cleopatra’s Needle, bring blanket,” she read out. They exchanged looks and Nate shrugged. She read the second part of the message. “Interview at Leicester Wednesday, require your presence.”

“Why is he going to Leicester?” Nate asked as he pulled on trousers and looked around for a shirt.

Cara’s sleep fuddled brain tried to connect the two sentences but gave up without caffeine. “Something to do with Nero’s Fiddle, I assume. Let’s go sort out the first issue.”

Dawn struggled to illuminate the cloudy sky as Cara and Nate stood on the Victoria Embankment and stared up at the imposing monument. The obelisk was a gift to England from the ruler of Egypt in thanks for Nelson’s victory at the Battle of the Nile. It took decades for engineers to figure out how to move it to London. Eventually, two airships undertook the perilous journey with the stone in a specially constructed and reinforced cargo net strung between the two vessels.

An Enforcer stood with his back to the monument. He nodded as they approached. “There’s a party of visiting dignitaries due to view the Needle this morning, please have him gone within the next hour.”

Cara’s gaze dropped to the base, and the very naked, very drunk, pirate chained at the bottom. To be fair he wasn’t completely naked, someone had covered him in pine sap and a dusting of feathers. Shivers ran over his body and shook his plumes, and his lips had turned blue. The semi-circle of scars on his side, from his shark encounter, were picked out in bright white against his chilled skin.

“Why are you chained to Cleopatra’s Needle?” Cara asked. She dropped the blanket over his shoulders, while she wondered if his piercings had frozen and tried to keep herself from looking. “And why are you covered in feathers and sap?”

“Because I lost a bet and that pencil dick bastard Jackson has no sense of humour.”

“I think it’s pretty damn funny,” Nate said, as he walked around the stone to see what held Loki in place.

He had his arms stretched out behind him and held together with a large chain and padlock. Rattling came from behind the stone as Nate set to work picking the lock holding Loki prisoner.

Cara shook her head. “You’re going to freeze out here. What bet did you lose?” She was grateful for the blanket or she would have stared openly.

“One involving a fair English rose and God knows how, but he plucked her first. I can only assume the woman was overwhelmed with pity for him. He was supposed to just feather me. But no doubt driven by jealousy of my mighty shaft, he chained me out here thinking the snow would knock a few spare inches off. Lucky I am so well-endowed it takes more than a little snow to affect me.” He gave her a wink.

A clunk came from behind the monolith and the chain holding Loki’s wrists fell slack. Nate walked around the base holding one end and a padlock. “Let’s get you into the carriage and I’ll unlock the handcuffs where it’s warmer.”

They helped him up and ensured the blanket stayed in place as they made their way back to the carriage. Only a few hardy souls were out this early and the escapade went unnoticed by all except the late watch Enforcer, who reported the incident. He still stood guard to one side and gave a nod as they moved away, to continue his rounds.

“What do you think, my peach, now you have seen all of me?” Loki said as Cara stepped up into the carriage. “I do believe the great erection behind us suffers by comparison.”

She kept her expression sober, unlike the pirate. “I think it’s been a rather cold night.”

Loki clutched the blanket to his breast. “Ouch. Keep in mind this is me in the cold, imagine what I’m like when you take me inside and I warm up.” He gave a roughish grin.

They settled in, Brick jumped up top and the carriage moved off.

“Don’t try to deflect the conversation. What woman are you talking about?” She tried to remember the bar maids at the local pub, the most likely objects of attention, unless they were sporting with one of the housemaids.

He rested his head back against the blue velvet and fixed a dark stare on her. “You don’t know, do you?”

Her fingers tightened on Nate’s leg. “It’s too early and too cold for games. Don’t know what?”

Loki’s eyelids dropped and a smile pulled on his full lips. “It’s your friend Amy.”

“What?” Loki’s words about plucking roses slammed back into her brain. “What exactly has Jackson been up to in Lowestoft?” She frowned.

He shrugged. “Domestic relationships are not my forte.” He pointed a finger at Loki. “But you can get your feathered arse on that airship, it’s time you headed out.”

“All good to go, just as soon as she is christened.” Loki opened his eyes and rearranged the blanket around his body before looking across to Cara. “The lovely Amy is an untouched flower no more. Jackson has her holed up in the cottage shagging her senseless.”

Cara choked on the air trying to fill her lungs. Nate rubbed her back and she thanked God he could breathe for her, because her mouth opened and shut but wouldn’t admit anything to her airways. Finally she managed to suck air in and expel words. “Oh, no. Amy is still fragile after events with Burke.” Her hand clenched on Nate’s leg. “I need to return to Lowestoft.” What on earth was happening at the estate?

He unhooked her death grip on his trousers and took her hand in his. “We don’t have time. We have an interview with the queen this afternoon, a function tonight and Leicester tomorrow.”

“Blast. The day after then. I swear if he has hurt her, I will castrate him and feed tiny pieces to the fish.” Her mind whirled, trying to digest what events unfolded on the Lyons estate while she worked in London. The mere suggestion of Jackson
shagging
Amy spun her world on its axis. In what universe was that even possible? She planned to send an aethergraph message to Amy as soon as they returned to the Mayfair house.

Loki laughed. “Just my sort of entertainment. I want a front row seat before I’m exiled to the Pacific.”