The Three Locks by Bonnie MacBird (books for 8th graders .TXT) 📗
- Author: Bonnie MacBird
Book online «The Three Locks by Bonnie MacBird (books for 8th graders .TXT) 📗». Author Bonnie MacBird
Pickering and his two men backed up in alarm but held open the door. As Madame drew closer to them, she gently passed her hands near the largest of the tubes. As she did so, the glowing substance inside danced strangely in response! Off to one side, but still in near darkness, Fortuny worked some gas valves then retreated behind us again.
‘Come, spirits, come!’ The red, then the blue, then the green—all glowing substances—snaked and writhed with the touch of her fingers.
It was indeed unearthly, weird and beautiful – truly magical, as if Madame Borelli were a real-life sorceress. For a moment, I forgot where we were and what we were doing.
‘Good God!’ exclaimed Pickering. His two constables backed into the hall.
‘Sir, can we go, please?’ begged one.
‘Ha ha, yes!’ whispered Holmes.
Just on the other side of the cupboard door, I heard Leo Vitale’s voice. ‘Oh, Cosimo, I despair!’
‘But isn’t it magnificent?’ returned Fortuny.
‘Who’s there?’ shouted Pickering. ‘Holmes? Vitale?’ He turned to his men. ‘Find the lights and turn them on!’
But his men hesitated. Neither dared enter the room.
Cosimo Fortuny stepped forward through the murk and into our view. The glowing lights cast coloured patterns on his face.
‘It is I, Dr Fortuny. You interrupt my experiments. What do you want?’
‘We are looking for Leo Vitale,’ boomed the sergeant, squinting into the dark. ‘This is his laboratory, isn’t it? What is all this … this fairyland nonsense? Turn it off and light the lights. The normal lights.’
‘This is Mr J.J. Thomson’s laboratory. It is also my laboratory, and Leo Vitale is sometimes here,’ said Fortuny.
‘I am here now,’ cried Leo in a shaking voice. ‘I am here, and I am innocent.’
‘The young fool!’ Holmes hissed.
At this point, one of the policemen found a master switch. The electrified illumination came on brightly, and the glow of the tubes seemed suddenly pale and weak.
Vitale stepped forward, passing into our line of sight. ‘I am the one you want,’ he said. ‘I am innocent, and I will prove it.’ I wondered if the boy, in his frenzy of valour, would expose us as well.
Pickering grinned. ‘Leo Vitale, I am arresting you for the murder of Miss Odelia Wyndham. You were heard arguing with her at two in the morning last night and she died not long after that. Come forward and make no sudden moves. Extend your hands before you.’
Fortuny gasped. ‘What the devil?’
Vitale reached Pickering and held his hands out. Pickering snapped the cuffs on him roughly. ‘Take him in to the station,’ he said.
‘I had nothing to do with her death, sir,’ said Vitale as he was hurried out the door. Pickering paused, scanning the room.
‘Good day, Officer,’ said Fortuny dismissively.
‘I am not done,’ snarled Pickering. ‘I am looking for a Mr Sherlock Holmes and Dr John Watson. They were spotted not far from here. Holmes is a tall man, built like a lamp post, dark hair, full of himself. The other fellow is shorter, fair, moustache, heavier build. Quite ordinary.’
I did not wish this man well.
‘And who might they be?’ asked Fortuny.
‘Wanted in connection with this same murder,’ said Pickering. ‘I’d like to have a look around.’
‘No one else is here, Mr Pickering,’ said Fortuny. ‘But this equipment is very delicate. Displace one small thing and the entire apparatus could collapse. You and your police department would then be liable to the University for hundreds of pounds. Hundreds. But by all means, come in and have a look, if you must.’
‘Never mind,’ said the sergeant. ‘But … who is that woman who playacts at magic like a loon?’
I heard what sounded like a growl from Madame.
‘She was joking with you, Officer. Madame Borelli is a student of my work.’ Fortuny approached the policeman and now stood by Madame.
Pickering stayed on the offensive. ‘No student dresses like that!’
Indeed, Madame Borelli was perhaps a bit outstanding in her signature black and red.
Fortuny shrugged. ‘Ask, if you do not believe me. It is true.’
‘Yes? Well, I cannot imagine that ladies are allowed in these labs,’ said Pickering. ‘Perhaps I will report you.’
‘Well, Mr – er, I am sorry, but you did not give me your name,’ said Fortuny.
‘Pickering.’
‘Well, Mr Pickering, the late Mr James Clerk Maxwell – he is the founder of our laboratory, in case you did not know – was progressive in this matter. Ladies study and even work here.’ He smiled. ‘But strangers – that is another matter. Trespassing without invitation here is strictly regulated. Perhaps I will report you.’
Pickering hesitated only a moment, then grunted and departed.
Holmes and I exhaled in relief and exited the cupboard. Holmes quickly thanked Madame Borelli and Fortuny.
‘Is it true, then, about Maxwell admitting ladies?’ I asked.
‘It is,’ said Fortuny. ‘What is going to happen to poor Leo?’
‘Nothing, if he is innocent,’ said Holmes. ‘And Madame Borelli … you do land on your feet like a cat. Watson, come, we have two more places to search. The trail grows cold.’
Landing on her feet? Madame, I thought, had a way of landing dead centre in luck. I wondered when and where she might next appear.
PART SEVEN
ILLUSIONS
‘Atoms can swerve so there’s always the small possibility even for air molecules of not being forced to follow the determined laws.’
—James Clerk Maxwell
CHAPTER 33
A Palpable Hit
In moments, we were on the run through Cambridge once again. Ducking into alleys, turning to look in shop windows, we flitted anxiously through the ancient city like desperadoes. We were heading, per Holmes’s direction, back to the Cross and Anchor and Dillie’s abandoned bolt-hole. Holmes was certain that he had missed something in our earlier visit and was determined to take a closer look.
‘But the place has been cleared,’ I said as we raced up the stairs at the back of the Cross and Anchor.
‘I did not spend the time I needed, Watson. There is something there that will help us, I feel sure
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