Revived Spirits (11 page)

Liv felt too angry to speak,but forced herself to look Frederica straight in the eye. “No.  It wasn’t fantastic.”

She tucked the box under her arm and adjusted her grip on McGinty. “And I promise you, you’ll never do it again. Try it— tell people about it. I’ll make sure you sound like a crazy person. You have no idea what you just did, or how people could have been hurt by it.”

She left Frederica sitting in the grass of Kensington Park and began the walk back to the Havards’ flat. She had a bird to deliver and a backpack to pick up. The tube ride home to her family’s apartment wouldn’t be pleasant. Liv would be alone with herself—someone she didn’t like very much right now.

It was Saturday morning, and the Wescott parents and Anna were out for an early morning stroll. At least, the parents would be strolling. Anna was probably riding high in a backpack, pulling on her father’s ears and giving the top of his head slobbery kisses.

Liv looked around the quiet sitting room. The boys had been last in the bathroom, and in a minute they’d be ready to talk about what to do today. Liv hadn’t yet confessed to them what had happened in Kensington Gardens with Frederica, and she sat in an armchair, working up her nerve.

The bathroom door opened and out came Anthony, followed by a wave of shower humidity. “I need to talk to you two about something,” she said.

“Sure, Sis. Cal’s on his way.” He pulled a banana from a fruit bowl on the dining table and sat on the sitting room sofa that he and Cal pulled open each night for sleeping. It surprised her that he’d said yes so quickly. If she didn’t have bigger things to worry about, she’d speculate that something was up and try to pry it out of him.

Cal emerged from the bathroom, looked from Anthony’s face to Liv’s, and blurted, “I guess Anthony’s explaining it to you. We have a problem. Morehouse’s partners are serious criminals— killers!” His voice had the high pitch it often took on in times of stress.

Anthony threw up his hands. “Way to go! I thought we agreed to break it to her gently.” He rose from the sofa and went to sit on the arm of Liv’s chair. He stared meaningfully at Cal, who mouthed
sorry
with a shrug.

Liv gazed out the ten-foot-tall windows at the busy street. “Morehouse could be in real trouble, couldn’t he? And I started it.”

“It’s not your fault, sis. You saw the Cumpston guy, then Cal said a few things to Morehouse, and I said a few things. . .” His voice trailed off.

“Maybe we could just go back,” she muttered.

“What? Wait—you haven’t heard the rest.

“I Googled the company Morehouse told us about— Cumpston, Pridgeon, and McKnickel. They’ve been sued a lot, but the plaintiffs always drop the charges before things get very far.”

Liv lifted one shoulder. “So? Maybe they offer refunds. Their customers are probably super-rich, hard to please.”

Anthony shook his head. “Uh-uh. Here’s how the scam works, according to the complaints.” He stepped to the mantel, selected a small crystal vase, and held it up for display.

“Say you’re a person with something to sell, and you advertise it on the Internet for five hundred dollars. Someone offers to buy it. Great, you say. Their check comes in the mail, but it’s for more money than you agreed on, maybe eight hundred.” He looked at the vase. “You still have the object, and now you have this guy’s check, so no problem, you think. You call him up, tell him about the mistake. He apologizes and asks you to just send the difference along with the item. Maybe he offers to come to you and pick up the cash along with the thing he bought.”

He put the vase behind his back, out of sight. “He does all this really fast—before you find out that his check hasn’t cleared at the bank. By then, you’ve sent him the item and some of your money, and he’s vanished. Cumpston, Pridgeon and McKnickel have never been convicted of any crimes, but a lot of people think they’re guilty.”

“It sounds bad,” agreed Liv. Her mind wandered back to the problem of Maskelyne and the other Cumpston. She wished she could do some research of her own to see if she needed to be worried about that or not.

Anthony interrupted her thoughts. “It gets worse. These guys buy apartment buildings and say that people on government assistance are living in them. They keep the government checks and rent out the places to other people. They’ve made a fortune at it.”

He rubbed his face with his hand. “It’s called housing benefit fraud, and it caught my eye because I’ve heard Dad say it a couple of times before we came here. I think it’s something he’s working on, either learning about it so he can help fight it back home or helping someone here. Either way, it could give Morehouse’s partners another reason not to like us.”

He set the vase back on the mantel, and Cal took over. “It seems Cumpston stays busy now convincing witnesses not to testify against the firm. A few must not’ve been so easy to convince.”  He cleared his throat. “They disappeared.”

There were voices at the door and the keypad beeped. In came Mr. and Mrs. Wescott with Anna, sound asleep on her father’s shoulder. “We wore her out,” Mrs. Wescott gasped, collapsing into a chair and leaning back, eyes closed.

“Good thing I don’t have to work today,” whispered Mr. Wescott. “I’ll put her in her crib and lie down on the floor if I can’t make it to the bed. Give us a couple of hours and we’ll be good as new.”

He stopped in the bedroom doorway and turned around. “The Havards called my mobile. They’re having a party tonight and we’re all invited—even Anna. We won’t stay long, but be ready to leave here at seven.” He disappeared into the bedroom.

Mrs. Wescott rose from her chair and waved the boys away from the sofa. “Let me have a fifteen-minute power nap and I’ll take you to Madame Tussaud’s or the Tower of London— your choice, kids.” Before Liv or the boys could reply, she was stretched out, snoring softly.

The scene looked peaceful, normal. Maybe they didn’t need to worry about Morehouse or his sleazy colleagues.

And what if she just forgot about the incident with Frederica? No, she couldn’t do that, and she couldn’t forget about what Frederica was doing to herself.

When she’d had a chance to check historical records and see if anything important had changed because of her trip with Frederica, she’d tell the boys all about it. And maybe she could think of a way to help her. The girl was providing all the bother of having a friend with none of the benefits.

She checked her pocket for her keycard and beckoned to the boys. “Let’s go kick the soccer ball around in the alley and give Mom a half hour to sleep. Then I bet she’ll take us to Madame Tussaud’s and the Tower.”

Liv stayed quiet and kept up her guard. Since the moment they’d arrived at the Havards’ party, Frederica had been unnaturally cordial. McGinty treated Liv with newfound respect, bowing his head and avoiding eye contact. Animals were honest. She could mark McGinty off her “enemies” list. But not Frederica—not yet.

Jazz poured from the reception room. Friends of Mrs. Havard had improvised an impromptu concert that blended with the laughter and conversation of the party. Having piled their small plates as high as possible with hors d’oeuvres, Anthony and Cal accepted happily when Frederica invited the three of them to her room.

Only Liv hung back, frowning. Anthony handed her a cup of punch and spoke quietly into her ear. “What’s wrong with you, Sis? There’s plenty of food, the bird’s behaving itself and Frederica can’t get near a piano to torture us with her playing. Enjoy it!” Liv sighed and followed the boys down the hall.

Frederica stood by her dresser, a smug expression blanketing her face. It was the look of someone who had the upper hand.

“What do you want?” Liv asked bluntly.

“You know perfectly well,” she replied. “I told you I want to do it again, and I meant it.” She looked at the boys, who had stopped chewing to stare at her.

“Why?” asked Liv.

“Because it’s fun, in spite of what you say.” She rolled her eyes at Liv. “And I’m curious—who wouldn’t be?” She kicked off her shoes and sat down on her bed, legs crisscrossed. “It’s the ultimate escape—like jumping live into the middle of a fantastic computer game.  It’s someone else’s reality.”

Cal and Anthony exchanged stunned looks. “It’s obvious you’ve time-traveled somehow,” began Anthony, “and we didn’t know about it. But—”

“You don’t know how it works,” interrupted Liv, avoiding Anthony’s glare. “What’s to keep us from leaving you?”

Frederica smirked. “Oh, let me count the ways. . .First, you’d never do that—you’re all such rule-followers.” She turned to Anthony. “Second,it’s that same ‘we have to be so-o-o responsible’ mindset that’s going to make you go back and correct the little problem your sister and I accidentally caused the other day.”

She watched the boys’ faces and her smile broadened. “Oh, she didn’t tell you?  We got somebody killed.”

“What?” Anthony jumped to his feet and ran to his sister’s side. “What’s she talking about?” Cal sat frozen upright in his place at the window seat.

“I don’t know,” said Liv miserably. “This part is new.”

Frederica continued, “We didn’t really change anything important. You’d never have known if I hadn’t told you. I’d never have known if I hadn’t happened to go on a school field trip to Greenwich Observatory last year.”

She raised a shoulder and lowered it in a dismissive gesture. “John Harrison, inventor of the watch that solved the problem of finding longitude at sea, died a disappointed old man in seventeen seventy-six.  I remembered that from the field trip.”

Liv’s voice was barely a whisper. “And now he died in seventeen seventy-two, because of us?”

“Exactly. He got himself poisoned by one of the men who saw us in Kensington Gardens, a fellow named Cumpston.”

Liv watched as Cal’s mouth popped open at the mention of Cumpston’s name. Anthony crossed his arms and frowned, but Frederica continued her story, and Liv hoped desperately she wouldn’t drop Morehouse’s name. The boys would never understand why she’d keep that from them.

“My guess is that Maskelyne, the Astronomer Royal, was about to tell Cumpston he wasn’t all that angry at Harrison, but we interrupted and he missed his chance.” She paused and pointed to the computer on her desk. “I checked it out thoroughly this morning. Cumpston poisoned him, all right.” Cal blew a puff of air from his cheeks, and Liv lowered her head and closed her eyes.

Frederica pursed her lips. “Harrison’s long dead and gone anyway. I don’t see why you feel the need to make a fuss. An old man died a few years early—no big deal.

“Now, don’t you want to hear about the third reason you’ll want to take me with you when you go back to fix the problem? Such a simple thing: you don’t have the clothes. Mummy and her friends play string quartet gigs at castles and places all over. I can get my hands on just about anything you need, which means you need me.”

No one contradicted her. Period costumes could be rented, but that would cost money and require an explanation to Mr. and Mrs. Wescott. Frederica had them right where she wanted them.

Anthony took a bite of smoked salmon and made a face. Eyeing a bag of Walker’s crisps on the dresser, he rose and crossed the room. He pulled out a crisp and placed a piece of salmon on it, devouring it in one bite. “Who was actually holding the box when the three of you traveled?”

Frederica looked from one to another. “Why is that important?” she demanded. “I was holding it. McGinty was on my shoulder. Liv tackled me, and off we went.” She squinted at Anthony. “What does it mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything!” Liv grabbed Anthony’s arm and dug in. “You don’t know if she controlled it, and we’re not sending her back alone.” Liv knew that the box worked only for certain people, but she wasn’t about to allow for the possibility that Frederica could be one of them.

“Of course not, Sis, but someone needs to go and undo this mess.  Having her along might not be a bad idea.”

“Not a bad idea? She went once, and look what happened!”

Cal interrupted, “Has everyone lost their minds but me? We have a life-and-death situation, and you want to bring in a wild card?” He nodded at Frederica.

Anthony held up his palms. “She knows more about London than we do—knows how to get to Greenwich Observatory to find this astronomer at home, I hope. When she speaks, she doesn’t have an American accent.”

He pulled up a stool and sat directly in front of Frederica. “You haven’t done anything to make us willing to trust you, but you owe it to this man Harrison and his family to try to save him.”

His voice softened. “And one thing we’ve learned from our own mistakes: What people do ripples out and affects others a long way into the future. Cumpston’s descendants won’t be better off for what you let him get away with. Agree to go for the right reasons and we’ll let you do it.”

Frederica’s shell seemed to open just a little. “Agreed.”

Monday morning came with a gray sky that cast its shadow on the city below. Even the summer flowers, abundant on buildings everywhere, appeared solemn in the hazy light.

To Liv, it made sense that Maskelyne, not realizing what Cumpston was planning, would have returned to his apartments and his work at the Observatory in Greenwich.

If they were lucky, a single trip there to warn the Astronomer Royal of what was coming would be enough, and Maskelyne could take it from there. What if he didn’t believe them? Liv decided not to consider that possibility. They’d just have to be convincing.