“The entrance is there.” She pointed to a chestnut door at the back of the room. “If you wish to take any documents home, you must sign them out first.”
I took the key, and we moved through the people and shelves toward the back room. Once I’d unlocked the door, Joseph turned to Daniel.
“Take these.” Joseph slipped the brass goggles from his bag and thrust them into Daniel’s hands. He swiveled to me. “What year was your brother at school, Miss Fitt? And what was the name?”
“Germantown Academy, and he started in the mid-sixties.” I wrinkled my forehead. “Why do you ask?”
“Yearbook. I’d like to see a list of all the boys who attended, if possible.” He spoke with no hint of command, only a straightforward efficiency. Joseph had a job to do, he expected us to help, and he tolerated nothing but obedience. The Spirit-Hunters worked together like the gears of a clock—orderly and focused.
Joseph inclined his head toward Jie. “You heard Miss Fitt.”
Jie nodded and stalked off toward the bookshelves in the main room. Joseph went into the private room, and I followed.
Daniel was already inside, his lanky form draped on a ladder as he scanned the highest shelves. The square room that housed the library’s private collections was also lit by enormous windows, and the walls were lined with colorful book spines, newspapers, scrolls, and loose pages. In the center were tables and studious-looking, straight-backed chairs. It was a haven of knowledge.
I cleared my throat and moved to Joseph, who was systematically plucking books from the shelves. “Mr. Boyer?”
Joseph did not move, but his eyes slid sideways to peer at me. “Yes, Miss Fitt?”
“Do you need me?”
“No, I think not.” He looked back at the shelf and flourished his gloved hand toward the door. “We have enough hands on deck. You may relax, if you wish, and we should be finished quite soon.”
I curtsied, but hesitated to leave. “Um... have you learned anything about the spirit yet? There’s been nothing in the papers about it, so I wondered if perhaps... it has vanished?”
“Non. I doubt that it would leave—not if it tried so desperately to enter the earthly realm.” He waved to the shelves. “I intend to search for a history of Philadelphia’s hauntings, but there is little else I can do. Unless this spirit appears before me, I cannot possibly find out what it wants—or hope to stop it.”
I inhaled slowly. I supposed he was right. What could one possibly do about an absent, faceless spirit?
“We have not seen it since Saturday,” Joseph added. “Let us hope its business with us is finished.”
After a murmured thank you, I left the private collections room and bustled back to the circular desk at the center of the library. I had my own research to conduct. I now knew to whom the strange names in Elijah’s letter belonged, but the meaning behind the other odd phrase in Elijah’s letter still eluded me.
“Do you know anything about the Gas Ring?” I asked the pretty librarian sitting at the desk. “Or where I can research it?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’ve never heard of it. Do you mean the Whiskey Ring?”
“No.” I gave her a tight grin. “Thanks.” I strolled back toward the private collections room, but when I reached the door, I turned right and headed down the hallway for a red velvet armchair—a chair I knew well.
I took my time adjusting my petticoats, fidgeting with my bustle, and squirming in my bodice. Then I eased down and set my parasol on the pine floor. This had been the chair Elijah and I had shared when we waited on Father. It was just as I remembered it.
Sunbeams pierced the air around me, illuminating the hidden world of dust that floated like the finest of snow. I grinned and tapped the armrest. A fresh army swirled up. The first time Elijah had shown me that trick, I’d been seven and he ten. We’d snuggled here, and he’d read aloud from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
A figure moved at the corner of my eye. It was Daniel, leaving the private collections room. He held books and papers in one hand and the goggles in the other. He stared at the floor, either inspecting the wood grain or deep in thought. I presumed the latter.
“Mr. Sheridan.” I stood, my gown rustling. “Did you find what you needed?”
His head snapped up. “Empress.” He hunched his shoulders. “Yeah, I got some books for my invention.”
“And those will help?” I angled my head and read a title. “Annalen der Physik und Chemie. Do you speak German?”
“Some. I’ve had to figure it out, Germans being the masters of engineering and all.”
“Oh.” I was impressed.
I gestured to the goggles. “And is that one of your inventions?”
He grunted his acknowledgment.
“What do they do?”
“Well, uh...” He swayed from foot to foot, as if he wasn’t sure how to proceed. “Land sakes,” he finally grumbled. “Just take ’em. See for yourself.”