“Are you telling me the truth, Mr Babbage? She has not come here to your house? And you know nothing of any romantic liaison?”
“Believe me, Lady Byron, I’m as worried as you are. She has not come here, and I’ve not seen her since she was last here several days ago. As for romance — we confine our discussions strictly to science and mathematics, and matters of the higher mind.”
Lady Byron bit at her knuckle as she wandered to and fro in Babbage’s drawing-room. “Then where can she be?”
“How long since she disappeared?”
“Four full hours. She’s never been a robust child, and without proper care she might easily fall ill. Where has she gone? I hope the foolish girl did not have romantic notions. I’ve seen her reading
“Ah, that would be because of me. We were — testing out a new code.”
“So she
“I’m sure she has not taken her own life,” Charles declared bluntly. “She was too engaged in our mathematical studies. There is only one answer. She must have departed by boat. Yet no one saw her?”
“Her tutors did not see her on any of the boats passing by. Only her purse was lying on the ground.”
“Do you have it with you?” It was clear now to Charles that Ada has been abducted and hidden on one of the passing boats. If she’d gone by choice, she would not have dropped her purse. Had she left it on purpose? Might there be some clue about it?
Lady Byron opened her own bag and handed the purse to him. “I showed it to the police, but they did not need to keep it.”
Charles also sat down, and opened the clasp of the yellow satin bag then emptied the contents on the mahogany occasional table in front of him. He stirred them with his forefinger. A handkerchief with the initials AB entwined in red embroidery in the corner. A tortoiseshell comb. A small mirror. For some reason he thought of his beloved daughter Georgiana, so much missed, and his eyes misted over. Ada could not be a substitute for her, but he felt the same fatherly protective instincts for her as he had for his daughter.
He blinked. There was also some paper. He opened it up and recognized the elements from the fourth quadrant, whose solution had so far eluded him. Her busy mind had been working hard on them. He scanned her notes and suggestions, and the back of his neck suddenly prickled with excitement. She’d written “Proportions?” and what was this, a decorative necklace?
Of course! His mind leapt ahead and reached the conclusions she had not. But then he’d been blinkered by following the normal code-breaking routes, whereas she had made a sideways leap of the imagination.
“Lady Byron, may I take this? I have a contact who may be able to help us.”
“Anything — but hurry. Her reputation! Poor girl.” She gave a sob.
“Please wait here. I’ll send a messenger as soon as I can.”
Hatless and shrugging into his coat as he ran downstairs and out into the street to hail a hansom cab, his mind worked feverishly. Even though Ada had crossed through her workings and written “hopeless”, he was sure she’d made the right connection. The other 75 was saltpetre — combined with 10 parts of sulphur and 15 of carbon, it formed gunpowder. If so, then could the jewels on the other side of the equation be a ransom? Pay me a King’s ransom in jewels, or Wanstead Abbey would suffer the same fate as Parliament! Was that what the Prankster was threatening? No, why bother to blow up Wanstead Abbey? It had to be some other ecclesiastical building — and where else to make a bigger mark than St Paul’s Cathedral!
Robert crouched on the outhouse roof to regain his breath before testing the stability of the drainpipe above him. He’d first tried knocking at the door of the building, and, when the big fellow with wild woolly hair had opened it, he’d said, “Any knives need sharpening? Any rags you want got rid of?”
“Piss off or you’ll be buried so deep, even the mudlarks won’t find yer.” And the door was slammed in his face.
As he cast about the row of ancient buildings looking for another way in, by luck he saw a messenger-boy emerge from the door where he’d seen the clerks scribbling away. He gave him the Under Secretary’s address, his own name and that of the Stairs, plus a silver coin. He could only hope he was an honest boy.
A short while later he’d come across the entrance to a very narrow gunnel that ran behind the buildings, and now he was attempting to reach a first floor window to force his way in. He shivered. It was cold and dank here and he felt sick and sore. But he had to find out if Ada was inside, and why. Bracing himself, he took hold of the drainpipe.
It was getting dark, Ada noticed. The room she’d been forced into was getting gloomier by the minute. She’d been standing upright in the middle of the room for most of the time since being locked in. The floor was bare boards and there was no furniture, only a pile of musty sacks in one corner.
Her first action had been to look out of the one small window but all she could see was a brick wall opposite and a tiny glimpse of sky above. And then she heard them. Rats — mice — scuttling in the walls and above her head. There would be silence and then they’d be running by again. She visualized thousands swirling through the building. She tried not to think of the Plague, of rat bites — she stared down at her hands and saw to her disgust how they trembled.
She longed to sit down but could not bring herself to use the sacks. Supposing they were infested with fleas? Once or twice she sat down on the hard floorboards in the centre of the room, the only place she felt safe. She could imagine hundreds of beady eyes peering at her through cracks … horrible!
She’d tried banging on the door and shouting, but it had had no effect. She had then pressed her ear to it and heard the two men who’d brought her here laughing and cursing. It sounded as if they were playing cards. They ignored her.
She was cold, hungry and afraid, but as time passed her strongest emotion was anger — at herself. How could she, clever Ada, have been fooled so easily? Charles Babbage wasn’t here. She’d been tricked. But why? They knew of her association with Charles. Did that mean she’d been watched? And what did they want of her?
She heard the door being unlocked and drew herself up straight, assuming one of her mother’s sternest expressions. She would meet her fate with dignity.
In the glow of a lamp, a new man stood framed in the doorway. He gave a slight bow of the head. “Miss Byron, come and join us.”
Hesitantly she followed him into the outer room, which she’d only glimpsed before. A fire burned in the grate with hall chairs either side, while her two abductors sat at a small card table on the other side of the room. They glanced at her then resumed their game.
“Sit,” said the newcomer, indicating the chairs by the fire. She managed to make herself walk over and sit down. She watched as he poured some wine from a beautifully engraved decanter into equally exquisite glasses, and handed her one. There were other items of quality in the room too, she noticed. A French clock on the mantelpiece, and the rug at her feet was Chinese silk.
The man sat opposite her. His trousers and jacket were very well cut, and there was a diamond-tipped pin in his expertly tied stock. His blond hair was straight, and just brushed the collar of his jacket. Finally she looked into his eyes. They were a cold, cold green. Was this the Prankster?
“Your health, Miss Byron.” He raised his glass and drank. “I have sent for some supper. I intend to look after you. You’re far too valuable to me to be neglected.”
Valuable? For a moment she wondered if he wanted to employ her mathematical skills, but his next words disabused her.
“I can see you are your father’s daughter. You are brave, if not as beautiful as he was.” He smiled, but she did not sense any warmth. His speech and manners marked him as one of the gentry, but she’d never seen him before. He went on, “How much, I wonder, is Miss Byron worth? What do you say, my friends-in-evil?” Now he laughed and the other two joined in.
“A tasty piece,” the bearded man said. “Five hundred gold sovereigns.”
“At the very least. Add that to our pay-off for not blowing up St Paul’s and I reckon we might live comfortably
