Mechanized Masterpieces: A Steampunk Anthology (29 page)

“No, no, that will suffice to make you partner. I must have misunderstood. Shall we shake upon our partnership? Your uncle may take a spoken agreement as all that’s needed, but I have always trusted the touch of flesh above the sound of speech.”

Ebenezer, still wary of Marley’s manner, lifted his hand and smiled at his new partner. Perhaps the man’s left eye betrayed a tic at just the right moment, or perhaps Ebenezer’s intuition chose that instant to assert itself in his favor, but he let his hand drop and allowed the cold within his chest to extend outward into the space between him and his new partner.

“Why, Scrooge, whatever is it? You look as though death itself would be a finer companion than I on this morning’s meeting.”

“You are no man of low means, Marley. And yet here you come a-begging funds. I will not partner with a man who treats the truth as the prize in a game of look-about. Whence your need, Marley? And speak plainly, with none of the gusting wind you used earlier, no doubt in hopes of concealing some duplicity.”

Marley’s shoulders sagged and he sighed heavily. The tic Ebenezer noticed a moment ago returned, the tremors coursing down Marley’s cheeks until his lips shook as well.

“I . . . I am cursed, Scrooge. Cursed with a sickness that has twice before brought me a-begging.” He spat the word as though the taste of it burned like acid on his tongue. “Your uncle owed my mother a favor for many years, and she has been kind, you can only pretend to know how kind, in not coming sooner to demand he make good his promise.”

“What promise would this be?”

“To—” Marley began, but choked off his own words as he stifled a sob. “To provide for his son. At last, to provide for the child he sired with her.”

Ebenezer felt the shock of Marley’s revelation hit him in the chest, nearly forcing him backwards. He steeled himself and looked long at Marley’s features, his round face and jovial cheeks. Given the means to reverse time, Ebenezer could be staring at his Uncle Neville.

“My word, Marley. Cousin Jacob,” Ebenezer corrected himself. He again lifted his hand and took Marley’s in a firm grip. His smile returned, and then waned as his own duplicity swelled full in his throat.

“Cousin Ebenezer, what is it now? Trouble haunts your brow as gulls above the fishmonger’s stall. Come, tell me, please. I’ll make no proclamation of refusal such as you did just now, but my interest in seeing this partnership succeed is as genuine as your own. If there is a matter . . .”

“Yes, cousin. There is a matter. The expenses I mentioned before, the disposition of those funds I am not able to provide for this partnership.”

Ebenezer related to Marley his meeting with Hargreaves and told him of the device the inventor had prepared. He told Marley of the scheduled visit that afternoon, but not of his delivery of Rose’s body the night before. Marley gave voice to the shock he felt, just the same.

“I cannot think how he might, but if he should succeed with this invention, do you hope to profit by some measure? But this is madness, Scrooge. Hargreaves can only be toying with you. I can think of no reason save true devilry that would compel a man to treat his fellows so poorly, with such disregard for their trials. Why, your Rose is not yet in the grave a full day and he has you—”

Marley cut himself off and stared full into Ebenezer’s watering eyes.

“I beg your pardon, cousin, truly. I spoke in haste. I shouldn’t have.”

“Do not think on it, Marley. Forgive me this weakness. I assure you, my hands and heart are steady for the task before us as partners.”

“And of that, I have no doubt. But let us agree on one point before the shingle is hung.”

“Of course. What would you ask?”

“To protect your uncle and the integrity of our firm, we should refrain from addressing each other as cousin in the future. Better that we proceed on the understanding that we are no more family than we are generals in Napolean’s army.”

“Agreed, Marley.”

The men shook again and made their exit. A cab, called by Uncle Neville, no doubt, waited on the street to carry them to the warehouse in Cornhill.

On the ride to the warehouse, Marley detailed for Ebenezer the nature of their firm.

“A small trading company, Scrooge. For now. We buy from the captains who sail to the Orient and sell the goods down the line. But we have our sights on larger game than this, oh, yes.”

Ebenezer found it hard to concentrate on business, with his mind in riot with thoughts of Rose’s corpse locked away in Hargreaves’ laboratory. He fixed a smile to his lips and nodded at appropriate moments while Marley went on. They would acquire shipments of tea, spices, exotic wood, and furniture, stoneware, and glassware, as well.

“We stand to make a good living at it, if I dare say so. Eh, Scrooge? Scrooge, are you with me in this cab or have you only deposited a body in your stead while your mind wanders another route?”

At Marley’s mention of a body, Ebenezer sat up, as though called to attention at his father’s dinner table.

“Forgive me, Marley. It’s this business with Hargreaves. My other investment. It concerns me.”

“I’m glad you mention it, Scrooge, as I’d meant to ask your plans for the afternoon. You mean to visit this inventor, yes?”

“Yes, he expects me to call after luncheon.”

“I would join you. Now, now, before you refuse me, hear me out. As you know, I am a man of no small means, but I am always in search of some way to grow my holdings. Might I at least see this Hargreaves’ laboratory and his invention, to gauge whether or not an infusion of my own capital might be called for?”

“He is very secretive, I am sorry to tell you. It took months of my own begging before he would allow me a glimpse of his device.”

“Well, a recluse he may be, but as partners in this firm, I see no reason why we should not be transparent about any ancillary behavior. I insist, Scrooge. You must allow me to accompany you on your sojourn there this afternoon. I promise I will make no missteps that might put your inventor off the idea of taking your money.” Marley finished with a chortle, clapping a heavy hand on Ebenezer’s shoulder.

“Well, if you insist. I . . . I suppose Hargreaves would not take offense to me bringing my new partner along.”

Marley laughed again and the cousins regarded each other over smiles, Marley’s easy and relaxed. Ebenezer hoped his appeared natural. He felt the muscles of his cheeks straining as he forced his mouth to convey the good humour he did not feel.

Later, over lunch at a nearby inn, Ebenezer and Marley discussed the wares already collected in their stores. As they compared notes, a crier approached waving a special edition of the paper.

“Missing lads, good sirs. Five gone from their beds in the orphanage. It’s the third time this month.”

“This is a grim business,” Marley muttered, dropping sixpence into the crier’s hand. The fellow stepped to the next table and repeated his story there as Scrooge listened to Marley recount the events described on the page.

“Early this morning it seems. Nursemaid went to check the boys’ dormitory and found five empty beds. The five youngest are missing. Two older lads still present. None missing from the girls' dormitory.

“And just eight days earlier, another disappearance. A quartet of boys that time. A pair went missing the fifth of this month. Oh!”

“What is it?”

“A horse and cart were spied at this most recent incident. A black nag with a white spot on its cheek. What do you make of it, Scrooge?”

“I hate to think on it, to be honest. I’ve quite enough gloom to satisfy.” Ebenezer felt his throat constrict around each word. Marley cast a look of calm appraisal at him and simply nodded his sympathy. Smiling, he said, “We should be on our way then. Hargreaves expects you after luncheon, and both my belly and my timepiece toll the hour.”

Ebenezer stood, stony faced and with his eyes cast to the floor. Sensing Marley’s curiosity, he raised his eyes and smiled before turning to lead the way out.

At Hargreaves’ residence, Ebenezer and Marley stepped down from the carriage. The groom accepted Marley’s coin and saw to the horses as the two gentlemen approached Hargreaves’ gate. It stood open a crack, so Ebenezer only rapped gently on the wood before pushing through to the yard beyond.

The nag, still hitched to the cart, waited by the carriage house as it had on Ebenezer’s last visit.

“The man has no groom of his own, no doubt,” Marley observed. “Awful husbandry to keep the beast hitched that way, don’t you say, Scrooge?”

Ebenezer had already begun moving to release the nag from bondage to the cart. As a young boy, he’d learned a groom’s work at the school his father sent him. He’d never taken to riding, and so his relationship to mounts consisted only of soothing and cleaning them.

The nag whinnied as Ebenezer patted her muzzle, and the sound brought Hargreaves from his laboratory. The door opened and Ebenezer turned to see the inventor advancing on Marley with a knife in his hand.

“Explain yourself, sir! Interloper! What manner of business brings you into another man’s garden unannounced? Well?”

“Hargreaves,” Ebenezer called out. “He is with me. This is my c–, my partner, Mr. Jacob Marley. We have just today opened our firm together in Cornhill. I brought him with me at his insistence, but also with my approval. Marley would see your device to weigh the decision of injecting more capital into your work.”

Hargreaves eyed Marley with a glare that would drop a weaker man, but which only served to further wrinkle Marley’s brow into furrows of doubt and suspicion. Ebenezer watched the two men facing off across the yard, Hargreaves still wielding a lengthy knife and aiming it at Marley’s navel. Then the inventor withdrew the blade and sheathed it at his side. An assortment of tools hung from rings along his belt, including, Ebenezer noted, two stout knives in black leather scabbards.

“A further injection of capital, as you say, Scrooge, would be most welcome. But I am afraid my device is not in a condition to be viewed. I have encountered some difficulty in establishing proper operation, and therefore must ask you to return two days hence. And no earlier than that!”

“Two days?” Ebenezer gasped. “But what of—”

“I must insist, Scrooge. Rest assured I have not forgotten our collective wish to see her returned, but my progress has been slower than I’d hoped. Please, two days more. And then we may celebrate my success together, just the three of us.” Hargreaves finished, looking straight into Ebenezer’s eyes, clearly meaning to indicate that Marley would add a fourth and much unwanted party to the affair.

Ebenezer and Marley departed the yard outside the carriage house. Hargreaves accompanied them and barred the gate firmly after shutting it behind them. They rode back to Cornhill in silence, Marley regarding the landscape and Ebenezer watching his cousin for signs of anger or any other emotion. But the larger man only stared out the carriage window.

“Pleasant company you’ve found, Scrooge,” he said as they lit upon the street outside the warehouse.

“I do apologize, Marley. Our earlier meetings had nothing of what you saw there, I assure you. “

“‘Tis grimmer still, Scrooge. I . . . I need excuse myself from any more business today. The memory of that madman’s knife has me off my pins. I will see you in the morning.”

Before Ebenezer could protest or offer further apology, Marley stepped away down the street and around the corner in a crowd of traffic.