“You found one of the two men who survived the explosion in the shelter, didn’t you? Was it Kelso? That’s the name of the family that used to own the lodge.”
“His name was Jonathan Kelso. He was the last member of his family, and he was not mentally stable. By the time I tracked him down he was living in an institution. He told me a fascinating story about how he and two colleagues had discovered a number of Bridewell’s clockwork curiosities. They wanted to find out exactly how they worked, but they knew the objects were dangerous. Kelso remembered the old bomb shelter behind the lodge and decided it would be a good place to run their experiments.”
“They brought the curiosities here, tuned them up and then things went wrong.”
“According to Kelso, there was an explosion. It killed one of the three outright. The second man’s senses were severely affected by the heavy dose of radiation. He took his own life a few months later. Something about incessant nightmares. Kelso, himself, as I said, wound up in a psychiatric facility. But he was able to tell me about the commune that was going on in Scargill Cove at the time of the experiments. I started doing some research.”
“You found Rachel Stewart.”
“By the time I tracked her down she was dying of cancer and using serious pain meds. Her story was somewhat confused, but I was able to put the facts together into a coherent picture.”
“She was a Seeker,” Isabella said. “The woman everyone thought ran off with Gordon Lasher.”
“Well, that was the plan. But Lasher was only interested in Rachel because it turned out she had a strong affinity for glass psi. Not only was she immune to the effects of the curiosities but she also intuitively understood how they worked. Furthermore, she could sense them at a distance.”
“That was how she found the tunnel entrance to the bomb shelter.”
“Yes,” Sylvia said. “Lasher intended to use Rachel to remove the relics from the bomb shelter.”
“She got one out for him, the clock.”
“Yes. The idea was to store the devices temporarily in the Zander mansion until Lasher could figure out how to transport and sell them. When he and Rachel Stewart went back into the shelter to get another artifact, however, they quarreled. In the heat of the argument Rachel discovered that Lasher did not love her and was only using her. Surprise, surprise.”
“So she crushed his skull with a tire iron.”
“No,” Sylvia said. “There was someone else there that night. Rachel said something about him not being right in the head.”
“I hit him,” Walker said. He rocked urgently, tears glistening in his eyes. “He hurt Rachel. He hit her and called her names. S-said he was going to take all the alien weapons. Rachel started to c-cry. So I hit him. Then she screamed and ran away through the tunnel and never came back.”
“It’s okay, Walker,” Isabella said gently. She looked at Sylvia. “Thanks to Rachel Stewart, you knew the clock was somewhere in the Zander mansion and that the rest of the curiosities might still be in the shelter.”
“Exactly. I set up as a real estate agent in Willow Creek and used my cover to search the mansion. I could sense the clock in the house but I couldn’t find it.”
“Because it was hidden beneath the new floor the killer had constructed in the basement,” Isabella said. “He stored it there.”
“I knew that even if I did locate the clock, there was no way I could get into the bomb shelter to get the rest of the curiosities. It was too well guarded by the good folk of Scargill Cove, not to mention a pack of dogs and a very serious lock. I could not find the tunnel entrance, either. I lacked Rachel’s talent for sensing the glass psi at a distance.”
“So you called in Jones & Jones,” Isabella said. “You knew that Fallon would probably sense the clock if he went into the house and that he would tear the place apart to find it.”
“Jones & Jones has a history with the Bridewell curiosities. I was quite sure that once Fallon Jones was on the trail, he would keep going until he turned up the rest of the artifacts in the shelter. I was prepared to drop a few hints about the events in the Cove twenty-two years ago if necessary, but as I expected, Jones was inside the shelter within twenty-four hours and the artifacts were trucked off to L.A. twenty-four after that. He’s good.”
“He wasn’t working alone,” Isabella said. This was hardly the time to get defensive, but an investigator had a professional reputation to consider, even when looking down the barrel of a gun.
“I’m well aware that you’re a strong talent in your own right,” Sylvia said. “Jones would never have hired you otherwise. If it’s any consolation, I didn’t know a serial killer was using the house as a dumping ground.”
“Thanks for that. It’s a wonder he didn’t catch you inside the mansion.”
“I was only in the Zander house once.”
“You plan to return from your sabbatical and join Rafanelli in his research on the curiosities,” Isabella said. “After a discreet amount of time has passed, you will arrange for the gadgets to disappear from the museum vault.”
“I’m afraid poor Dr. Rafanelli will get the blame when the Joneses discover that the artifacts are gone,” Sylvia said. “Can’t be helped, though. Someone has to take the fall. I will eventually resign in due course and disappear.”
“Why on earth are you so obsessed with the curiosities?”
Sylvia blinked at the question. “Of course, I forgot, you have no idea, do you? I’m a direct descendant of Millicent Bridewell, and my talent is similar to hers. I can handle the psi in those artifacts.”
“You mean you hope you can handle it. According to Fallon Jones, no one understands what Bridewell did with glass and psi.”
Sylvia was clearly annoyed. “Now that I have access to a large number of her original creations, I can reverse-engineer them. My goal is to learn enough from them to be able to construct modern versions that will work even better than the originals. Instead of clockwork mechanisms, my curiosities will be powered by state-of-the-art technology.”
“That kind of project would be a very expensive undertaking.”
“Yes, it will be.” Sylvia’s expression tightened. “It is also an undertaking that Arcane would refuse to fund, given its ridiculous prohibition against weapons research. But my new associate has very deep pockets and is willing to finance a first-class lab for me.”
“Where did you get the music box?”
“Family heirloom,” Sylvia said. “Created by Millicent Bridewell herself.”
“Why couldn’t you just study that artifact to learn what you want to know?”
“It’s not that simple,” Sylvia said. Anger simmered in the words. “The music box was one of the more complicated examples of Bridewell’s work. I’ve studied it for years and never figured out how she infused the energy into the glass.”
“I’ll bet you don’t have any more luck with the other gadgets, either. How is your new business associate going to like it when she finds out you can’t deliver?”
Outrage flashed across Sylvia’s face. “All I need is time and a decent lab.”
“Alien technology,” Walker said. He rocked some more. “Too dangerous. Can’t let the g-government have it.”
Sylvia glanced at him, irritated. “Don’t worry, the Feds will never get their hands on those curiosities.”
For the first time Vogel spoke.
“Dogs,” he said. He looked toward the window.
Sylvia frowned. “I don’t hear anything.”
Walker concentrated hard on Vogel.
“You’re using a-alien drugs,” Walker announced. “Poison.”
“What the hell?” Vogel swung around, his face flushed a dark red with sudden fury. “Shut up.”
“Yes, you are.” Walker rocked fiercely. “You’re on a-alien drugs.”
“If you won’t close your mouth, I’ll do it for you,” Vogel snarled. He pulled a roll of duct tape out of his pocket.