Before Edison could voice his next question, Burke settled his forearms on his desk and aimed his considerable focus on Ada. “Care to explain what’s important enough to kidnap you over?”
Ada’s head snapped back as if she’d been slapped. She turned to Edison, eyes wide with fear.
“It’s all right,” Edison said. “The inspector’s one of us.”
“He’s…?” She stopped and addressed Burke directly. “You’re part of the league?”
Burke raised a hand in protest. “I wouldn’t say that exactly.”
Spencer rolled his eyes. “Only because you won’t cross the line.”
Ada cut him a look. “Line?”
“The inspector won’t do anything illegal,” Edison explained. “Very often.”
Ada’s eyes widened. “And the rest of you?”
“We do what’s necessary. What Burke and his lot can’t do.”
“I see.” She seemed to take her time considering that bit of information.
“About the kidnappers?” Burke prodded gently.
Ada sent Edison a questioning look. He answered her with an emphatic nod.
“I’ve developed an energy device, Detective.”
“A dry cell battery,” Edison elaborated. “A stable, powerful energy source.”
Burke leaned forward. “Seems like something worth a great deal of money.”
“The Navy jumped on it immediately,” Edison pointed out.
“But someone intervened.”
Edison nodded. “Whoever set this up knew her escorts would show up that afternoon. Made certain their imposters arrived hours earlier.” He looked Burke straight in the eye, wanting the detective to take note of his next words. “They were good enough to fool me—for a minute.”
Burke’s eyebrows rose. He tilted back in his chair and propped his hands behind his head. “That’s concerning.”
“I figure we’ve got a day or two before anyone realizes Mrs. Templeton wasn’t in the explosion.”
“I doubt that.” Burke shook his head.
Edison gave him a questioning look.
“That lot,” Burke jabbed a finger in the general direction of the jail cells. “They never went back for the rest of their pay.”
Edison slapped his thigh. How could he have overlooked that? Lucifer’s teeth, his brain had turned to porridge.
What little color was left in Ada’s cheeks drained away. Edison curled his fingers into his palms, trying to focus on the strength in his hands. He needed to be strong. Ada needed it.
This wasn’t her orderly, tidy world.
She needed a warrior, not a simpering child afraid of his own shadow.
Edison exchanged a look with the inspector. Neither, it seemed, could come up with a way to make that new piece of information any less terrifying. He clenched the knot in his tie, wishing he could blame a lack of oxygen for his thick-headedness.
She deserved reassurance.
She deserved to count on him.
He just needed out of this filthy place, then his mind would start working again. “Not sure where we’ll be these next few days,” he told Burke. “You can send a telegram to Crane’s house in Brighton if you learn anything. Crane’ll make sure the information gets to me.” He rose.
He’d only just gotten to his feet when the chief inspector barreled back into the office, a silk hat and handcuffs dangling from one hand.
Edison’s stomach lurched up into his throat. He dropped back into his seat, unsure his legs would hold him.
“Need to run, Burke,” the man ordered. “Constables found a body in the old Farley stables. Knife in the back. Looks to be one of the Quality.”
Burke jumped up. He grabbed his suit coat off the back of his chair and headed for the door. “Apologies,” he said as he ran out.
Edison sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, letting the soothing rush of relief ease the hammering of his heart.
Now he simply needed to make it out onto the street.
“I know where I know you from.” The chief inspector again filled the doorway, making Edison jump. “It wasn’t the fights.”
His heart froze in mid beat. It took everything he had not to gape at the man like a dead fish.
The chief snapped thick fingers. “The Hydraulic Engineers’ Society. You demonstrated that automaton thing.” His thick muttonchops inched upwards as he grinned at Edison. “Fantastic piece of engineering, that. Like to have a closer look sometime.”
Edison smiled weakly. He couldn’t find the words to string together a response.
“Glad you found it illuminating,” he managed finally.
“Quite.” The chief set his hat on his head and strode off.
Edison pulled himself out of the chair one more time. He hoped he didn’t look as old and frail as he felt. The fresh pulses of fear had left him limp as an old rag.
Ada was watching him, curiosity plain on her open face.
He cleared his throat. “It’s past time we found something to eat. Might as well do that now. We’ve a lot to accomplish today.”
“He’s going to find me, isn’t he?” she asked, her voice high and tight with fear.
“No.” Edison set his hands on her shoulders and stared straight into those coffee-colored eyes. “I’m going to find him. I’m going to find him and make damned sure he can’t come after you again. Ever.”
She laughed, but it sounded thin and strained. “I’ve no doubt you’ll find him.” She ran a finger across Burke’s desktop. “But we both know you can’t make any promises about the future.”
Edison slid his hands down her arms, then took her hands in his. He squeezed gently. “Yes, I can. I’ve never failed yet.”
Though he still felt as if half his strength had been siphoned off, he squared his shoulders, hoping to project a confidence and serenity he wasn’t feeling.
He let go of her hands and reached out to pluck her coat from the rack. He held it out, but his fingers were still clumsy with fear. The heavy tweed slid to the chipped linoleum tile.
Ada stared at Edison’s shaking hands. Her face paled again. “There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”
*
Light and flaky, nestled in a pool of béchamel sauce, the Dover sole looked excellent. Any other time Ada would have enjoyed it immensely.
At the moment, she was more interested in its utility as a weapon.
“I’m putting you on the train to Brighton,” Edison announced from across the cafe’s small table.
“No.” Ada forked up a bite of fish while she indulged in an image of white sauce sliding down his nose.
He scowled. “Burke’s right. Whoever hired those men already knows they failed.” His knuckles grew white as his fingers tightened around his knife and fork. “I should have thought of that.”
Ada shrugged. “And we agreed that was inevitable. It only changes things by a day or two.”
His utensils paused, suspended above his own plate. “Watching over you complicates things.”
She was a complication?
That’s what it had come to?
Ada wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of his asinine assessment, but their waiter appeared to refill their water glasses.
While he poured, Ada ripped a warm dinner roll in two.
The instant he glided away, she dropped the roll onto her plate and pressed her palms into starched tablecloth. “I do not need you to watch over me.”
Edison snatched up the mangled roll and set about buttering it. His silence spoke for itself.