Addleton Heights by George Wright Padgett

Author:George Wright Padgett [Padgett, George Wright]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Science Fiction / Steampunk
ISBN: 9781945760020
Publisher: Grey Gecko Press, LLC
Published: 2016-11-30T11:00:00+00:00

Twenty-One

There was something therapeutic about being in my darkroom again—the area bathed in the soft red glow of the gel light, the rhythmic sloshing of photographic paper in fluids, even the familiar smells of developing chemicals—all of it put me at ease. It was as if the events of the day were a distant dream, and now I’d retreated to the warmth and safety of my cocoon.

I’d make two sets of prints, one for Janae to keep and one to turn over to the Commonwealth with whatever I found in Nelson’s ledgers.

As I followed the process I’d performed countless times, my mind wandered to Montague’s study and all of those wonderful books. For some reason, I found myself thinking of that ridiculous cicada he had in the jar. I recalled him saying it was one of his prized possessions, how it represented change to him. It amused me that a man of unimaginable wealth was transfixed by a bug in a jar. Who could fathom the mind of the ultra-wealthy?

Janae mumbled something from the main room, probably repeating whatever she was transmitting through the device. If she needed something, she knew to knock on the darkroom door.

I looked the prints over for clues that I might’ve missed at the scene.

She said something again.

“Just a minute!” I hollered at the door.

More muffled speaking, this time accompanied by another voice, a deep, male baritone.

I toweled off my hands, wondering what potential client would have a case so urgent as to visit me after hours.

Then I heard her yell “Kip!” followed by the sound of breaking glass.

I emerged from the darkroom and froze when I saw him.

“Well, lookee here, it’s Addleton Heights’ slipperiest detective,” Hennemann said mockingly.

He was positioned directly behind Janae and had her bent over the desk, pinned beneath his clockwork arm. She coughed and squirmed. He had her pressed down on the desk with her hands trapped beneath her chest. “I see you haven’t bothered to clean the place up from the other night.”

“Get off me!” she screamed, trying to wriggle free of his hold.

He slammed the mechanical arm harder against her back and let out a satisfied laugh as the move knocked the wind out of her. “Feisty one here, Kipsey, just the way I like ‘em. Remember what I said when I saw her photograph?”

Her trousers were bunched up around her ankles, and Hennemann was working on loosening his own with his right hand. I couldn’t fathom how he’d managed to get the jump on her. Where was Rodger?

Whatever happened, it was up to me to talk him out of this madness.

“Marcus, no . . . not this . . . please,” I pleaded, taking a step forward. The gun was under my jacket on the chair, but from across the room, it looked a million miles away. “I’m sorry I left you, but please don’t . . . not this . . . not to her.” My heart pounded away in my ears like a bass drum.

The right side of her face was smashed against the desk, looking in my direction.

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