Instead, I left my study and took the stairs to the top of the house. I hurried to the window in my bedroom and peered out, and to my dismay I saw a magnificent coach-and-four in the road below, attended by a driver and a liveried footman. The horses had matching black plumes upon their heads, and the lacquered carriage shone like a mirror under the nearby streetlamp. Several passersby stared at the overt display of wealth as they hurried by, for such a coach was not a common sight outside the wealthiest parts of the city. Little wonder the professor had encouraged the outing, for the patronage of such a wealthy family might swell his coffers considerably.
I saw a young boy clothed in rags approaching the carriage, presumably to beg a copper or two, but before he could say anything the driver casually flicked his long whip in the lad's direction. The loud crack was audible even from my lofty perch, and the startled boy, who could not have been more than ten years of age, ducked his head and scurried away like a frightened rat. The footman called something after the unfortunate lad, and the driver laughed.
What a pleasant pair, I thought sourly, even though the encounter was a common occurrence all over the city. Then I saw the footman stand to attention, the driver sitting ramrod-straight, and seconds later I spied Roberta and Charles strolling along the path to the iron gates at the road. From my angle I was looking almost directly down on them, but even so, I decided Charles was a most unsuitable sort. From his foppish hair to his broad-shouldered blue coat, there was much to dislike about him. Had I been able to make out any other details, I am certain I would have disliked those also.
Roberta, on the other hand, was a picture of loveliness in her flowing skirts. I pressed my nose to the cold pane of window glass as I tried to take in every detail, and once again I wished I was the one escorting her to the theatre. She walked arm-in-arm with her companion, who suddenly threw his head back and laughed long and hard at some quip. As for myself, I had never felt less like laughing in my entire life.
They reached the carriage, where Charles waved the footman away so that he might assist Roberta up the step himself. She gave him a grateful smile, and that was my last glimpse of her before she disappeared within the spacious carriage. Charles followed, and the footman closed the door and folded the step away before taking his seat beside the driver.
Then, with a crack of the whip and a whinny from the horses, the carriage pulled away from the house and disappeared into the night.
Dispirited, discouraged and dismayed, I turned from the window. My nine o'clock meeting with the scar-faced man was a mere ninety minutes away, further adding to my gloom. I remembered his gleaming knife, and the body of Jules Hartlow found floating in the river, and I shivered. There was no time for self-pity, for I knew I would be renewing my acquaintance with the late Mr Hartlow if I did not stir myself.
Chapter 24
I took the stairs down to Roberta's floor, where I crossed the corridor and opened her door. I slipped inside and closed the door behind me, short of breath and with my heart thudding in my chest. I had dreamt up an excuse in case anyone should find me there, a fabrication involving a missing invoice, but I hoped I would not have to put it to use. For one thing, Roberta would contradict my story once she returned home.
I stood for a moment, regaining my poise, and then I approached the workbench. It was strewn with odds and ends of materials, and mysterious tools, and tangled wire, and I wondered why she did not maintain a working space in the basement. But then my gaze fell on the prize, which was a pile of crumpled diagrams in double foolscap. I leafed through them quickly, selecting two of the simpler ones as being the most suitable for copying. I folded them small and crammed them into my coat pocket, before hurrying to the door.
I peered out through the tiniest crack, ensuring the corridor was clear, and then hurried to the stairs and ascended to the next floor. Here, I collected writing materials and a blank sheet of parchment from my study, before heading further up the stairs to my own room with my loot secreted about my person.
I did not relax until I'd closed the bedroom door behind me. Then I placed the items I'd gathered on the small table near the window, drew up a chair and set to work on crafting a new set of diagrams from those I'd borrowed.
Both of the purloined drawings were of the same device, which appeared to have several moving parts arranged in a circular pattern. There was no explanation as to its purpose, but that did not trouble me. One drawing was more elaborate than the other, as though it were a refinement of the original idea. Regardless, I took elements of both drawings as I crafted my own version on the blank piece of paper. It was a good twenty minutes before I had something that approximated Roberta's original design, without copying it precisely. Next, I turned my attention to the measurements. On Roberta's plan they were expressed in fractions of an inch, and the entire machine would have sat on the palm of one hand. I wanted to show something far more impressive to the scar-faced man, so I changed all the measurements to feet and yards. This made
