"Father is working to improve the lenses, but the process is slow, and the materials are costly to obtain." Roberta glanced towards the door. "Here is father now. Let me fetch the equipment, and we shall be on our way."
Chapter 20
We left the house together, with the professor sporting a top hat and walking stick, Roberta in her work overalls with her long hair concealed under a cap, and myself wearing my best coat and trousers. Roberta and I carried a haversack each, while the professor, unburdened, strolled ahead. He showed no ill-effects from his most recent catastrophe, and I assumed his remarkable recovery owed more to the restorative power of brandy than to his ablutions.
Upon reaching the street, Roberta raised her arm to signal a passing cab, but the professor waved it by. "We are not wasting money on hansom cabs," he proclaimed, "and furthermore, I will not travel on the underground. Come! The high street is but a few moments walk, and there we shall catch the omnibus."
He set off without waiting to discuss the matter, stepping into the road directly in the path of a horse and cart. The driver hauled on his reins, bringing the heavy vehicle to a sudden halt, then proceeded to curse the professor loudly, creatively and at great length.
The professor tipped his hat in apology before forging ahead, this time stepping in front of a speeding cab travelling in the opposite direction. The cabbie swerved at the last second, and we lost sight of the professor behind the towering horse and shoulder-high wheels. Once the driver had regained control, he stood in his seat and shouted uncouth epithets over his shoulder at the professor, who appeared oblivious to the commotion.
"Come quickly, before he is run down," muttered Roberta, and she took my hand and pulled me into the road. We crossed more carefully than the professor, but the street was so busy we were forced to dart between moving vehicles with little care for our own safety.
Upon reaching the other side, we found the professor waiting to chide us. "You must keep a faster pace!" he said impatiently. "I have no wish to waste an entire afternoon on this expedition."
I felt this was a trifle rich, as it was his last-minute experiment with the forked weapon that had delayed us in the first place. Then, after eyeing Roberta's knapsack and inspecting my own, I realised the device was nowhere in sight. Had he forgotten to pack the thing? "Professor, where is the new weapon?" I asked him, already fearing the response.
"Did you not bring it?" he enquired.
"No! I thought you had picked it up!" I exclaimed, my voice anguished.
We turned as one to look across the busy road, and at the professor's house beyond. A stream of carts and riders and cabs moved in both directions, and the thought of crossing that hellish stretch once more left me cold. Why, just last week a pedestrian had been grievously injured on a nearby street!
"Well, I dare say we won't be needing it," said the professor at last. "After all, there is no evidence Lady Snetton was killed by a phantasm."
Roberta and I exchanged a glance, and I knew we shared the same opinion. "I shall fetch the weapon," I declared. "It will take but a moment."
"If you must," said the professor, with an airy gesture. "Roberta and I will proceed to the high street. If you cannot find us, it is because we have caught the omnibus and gone ahead of you."
The professor departed without waiting for my response, swinging his cane in time to his paces, his top hat at a jaunty angle. Roberta remained long enough to squeeze my hand and whisper "I had better get after him" before hurrying after her father.
I confess I was taken aback by the speed with which my fellow travellers abandoned me, but consoled myself with the thought that I could find the Snetton house without too much trouble. Moreover, if they reached the residence and encountered trouble of a most unnatural kind, I would arrive soon after with the professor's new weapon, giving me the opportunity to prove my worth by saving the day.
I hurried across the road, avoiding the worst of the traffic, and let myself into the relative calm of the Twickhams' house. It took me but a moment to reach the professor's study, where I found the weapon atop the desk. I took it up, fastening it to my pack, and was just turning to leave when a thought occurred to me. With the professor and Roberta absent, could I not use this opportunity to look around a little?
"Mr Jones, whatever are you doing?"
At the sound of Mrs Fairacre's voice I leapt fully twelve inches into the air. The housekeeper was standing in the doorway, regarding me with the sort of expression reserved for brush salesmen, thieves and wayward children. "Th—the professor s—sent me back for his w-weapon," I stammered, as my heart threatened to burst from my chest. It was pounding nineteen to the dozen from the shock, and I wasn't sure it would ever slow to normal pace again.
"And you have it?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Then why do you tarry in his study?" she demanded, in a sharp tone of voice. "Come, out with you this instant!"
As she ushered me from the room, closing the door firmly behind us, it occurred to me that Mrs Fairacre was more terrifying than any phantasm I had encountered to date. She was implacable and unshakeable, and, should I happen to fall on the wrong side of her, I had no doubt my life would become the worse for it. "I must take this to the professor," I said, indicating the weapon attached
