a joke. But on seeing my confusion, he pulled himself up. “Forgive me. But it’s common knowledge you see. His star has risen. He was appointed Minister of Patents last year.”
I stepped out of the door, as one born into sudden sunlight, dazzled by the revelation but unable to resolve it. I had begun to suspect that Mrs Raike might be Wallace Jones in disguise. But now to learn that he was Minister of Patents – one of the foremost officers among the Council of Guardians. He would surely not risk a public deception on such a scale. Perhaps I had made the mistake of projecting my own double life onto another.
My thoughts were cut short by a voice close behind me.
“Are you Miss Elizabeth Barnabus?”
I turned to see a uniformed constable standing next to the library door.
“Elizabeth Barnabus?” he asked again.
“Yes, but it’s all resolved,” I said, thinking at first that he had come at Dr Bowers’ request. Then it came to me that the old librarian did not know my name. “What’s this about?”
“Just come this way, Miss.”
He gestured down the library steps. I looked. Two more constables stood next to a black Maria, parked on the roadside. He grabbed my arm before I could run.
Chapter 10
One who can escape from a locked safe for the entertainment of the audience will never trust his secret to paper and ink. For where would he find to keep it?
The Bullet Catcher’s Handbook
I was not alone in the maw of the black Maria. Three others sat on benches running along the walls. All looked at me as I clambered in, shielding their eyes or squinting against the daylight. One I recognised.
“Tulip?”
The door slammed shut behind me, blinking us into near darkness.
“Who’s that?” she asked, grabbing my hand just in time. The engine had clanged into gear, and I would have been jolted off my feet but for her support. I half fell onto the bench next to her.
“I’m Elizabeth,” I said. “We met–...”
“At the Secular Hall. You crossed as a child.”
“You remember.”
“I’d hoped to see you again. But not like this.”
A slit high on the side wall allowed a little light and air into the cell. It would have been too narrow to squeeze an arm through, let alone shoulders and hips. A memory of once escaping from a locked carriage came back to me. That time, I had been led by instinct. There had been a clutter of objects. I had found a way. This chamber was bare. I reached a hand to feel below the bench. It was merely a plank fixed along the wall. There could be no hiding here.
My eyes were growing accustomed to the gloom. The floor was a single sheet of metal. Other than the two benches, the only fixtures were leather hand straps dangling from the metal ceiling. The vehicle was purpose built – a prison on wheels.
“They must have signed the treaty early,” said Tulip, her voice small but close.
“It’s not due yet. And we’d have heard.”
“Signed in secret maybe?”
The black Maria had been steaming through a series of turns, throwing us first forward and then back. Now it started to accelerate. Steadying myself with a hand on Tulip’s shoulder, I clambered up onto the bench and looked out of the slit window. It took me a few moments to understand where we were. Then I recognised a landmark – the ruins of a Roman wall beside the road – and knew the canal must be close ahead.
“We’re heading west,” I said, lowering myself back to the bench. “If they were taking us to the border, we’d be going to the main crossing by the clock tower. That’s south.”
“Not if they want to keep it quiet,” said Tulip. “They’d want a crossing where no one would see.”
I listened, trying to pick up more clues, but our prison reverberated with the boom of the engine and the clatter of its wheels. All I could know for certain was that we travelled over cobbles.
I tried to think, to reason out the tumble of events and new knowledge. But panic was rising in my chest. If
I stepped out of the door, as one born into sudden sunlight, dazzled by the revelation but unable to resolve it. I had begun to suspect that Mrs Raike might be Wallace Jones in disguise. But now to learn that he was Minister of Patents – one of the foremost officers among the Council of Guardians. He would surely not risk a public deception on such a scale. Perhaps I had made the mistake of projecting my own double life onto another.
My thoughts were cut short by a voice close behind me.
“Are you Miss Elizabeth Barnabus?”
I turned to see a uniformed constable standing next to the library door.
“Elizabeth Barnabus?” he asked again.
“Yes, but it’s all resolved,” I said, thinking at first that he had come at Dr Bowers’ request. Then it came to me that the old librarian did not know my name. “What’s this about?”
“Just come this way, Miss.”
He gestured down the library steps. I looked. Two more constables stood next to a black Maria, parked on the roadside. He grabbed my arm before I could run.
Chapter 10
One who can escape from a locked safe for the entertainment of the audience will never trust his secret to paper and ink. For where would he find to keep it?
The Bullet Catcher’s Handbook
I was not alone in the maw of the black Maria. Three others sat on benches running along the walls. All looked at me as I clambered in, shielding their eyes or squinting against the daylight. One I recognised.
“Tulip?”
The door slammed shut behind me, blinking us into near darkness.
“Who’s that?” she asked, grabbing my hand just in time. The engine had clanged into gear, and I would have been jolted off my feet but for her support. I half fell onto the bench next to her.
“I’m Elizabeth,” I said. “We met–...”
“At the Secular Hall. You crossed as a child.”
“You remember.”
“I’d hoped to see you again. But not like this.”
A slit high on the side wall allowed a little light and air into the cell. It would have been too narrow to squeeze an arm through, let alone shoulders and hips. A memory of once escaping from a locked carriage came back to me. That time, I had been led by instinct. There had been a clutter of objects. I had found a way. This chamber was bare. I reached a hand to feel below the bench. It was merely a plank fixed along the wall. There could be no hiding here.
My eyes were growing accustomed to the gloom. The floor was a single sheet of metal. Other than the two benches, the only fixtures were leather hand straps dangling from the metal ceiling. The vehicle was purpose built – a prison on wheels.
“They must have signed the treaty early,” said Tulip, her voice small but close.
“It’s not due yet. And we’d have heard.”
“Signed in secret maybe?”
The black Maria had been steaming through a series of turns, throwing us first forward and then back. Now it started to accelerate. Steadying myself with a hand on Tulip’s shoulder, I clambered up onto the bench and looked out of the slit window. It took me a few moments to understand where we were. Then I recognised a landmark – the ruins of a Roman wall beside the road – and knew the canal must be close ahead.
“We’re heading west,” I said, lowering myself back to the bench. “If they were taking us to the border, we’d be going to the main crossing by the clock tower. That’s south.”
“Not if they want to keep it quiet,” said Tulip. “They’d want a crossing where no one would see.”
I listened, trying to pick up more clues, but our prison reverberated with the boom of the engine and the clatter of its wheels. All I could know for certain was that we travelled over cobbles.
I tried to think, to reason out the tumble of events and new knowledge. But panic was rising in my chest. If
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