“Yes, he’s a doctor,” came the tranquil reply. “Quite a good one, in London some years ago. His speciality is a knowledge of poisons. But when he is required to don the guise of a practising physician again, he does.”
“A question for you,” Matthew ventured. “What is Fell a professor of?”
A slight smile worked across the thin lips and then vanished. “Life,” said Sirki, “in all its many forms.”
Matthew couldn’t let this chance go past. He said, “You mean…taking life in all its many forms?”
“No, I mean what I said. The professor is a sterling disciple of life, young sir. When you meet him, ask him to explain his interest. He’ll be happy to educate you.”
“I don’t think I could stand such education.”
“But the truth,” said Sirki, his gaze fixed on Matthew, “is that sometimes the education we do not want is precisely the education we need, and that will benefit us the most.” He shifted his position in the chair and again glanced left and right, at the walls, and then up toward the ceiling. Matthew saw a hint of disturbance ripple across his features. “This is almost like a cave in here, isn’t it? I wouldn’t be able to live in a place like this. I would value my sanity too much.”
“I’m perfectly sane,” said Matthew.
“That remains to be seen. Twice now you’ve been offered an invitation.” Sirki slowly pulled his legs in, like an animal about to leap upon its prey. Matthew tensed and wished he could get to the door but the East Indian giant was in the way. “You will note there have been some incidents in your town just lately. Involving fire? The destruction of property? And your name being prominently displayed? Those are reminders, young sir, that time is growing short. The professor’s patience is also growing short. If I were you, I wouldn’t wish to dawdle very much longer.”
“Who’s burning those buildings and painting my name there? You?”
Sirki smiled like a cat and touched a finger to his lips.
“Why does Fell want to see me, if he doesn’t want to kill me?”
“You,” said Sirki, “are needed.”
“Needed? How?”
“I will leave that for your dinner hosts to explain. They also will explain the arrangements for transportation. Now, listen to me carefully. As I said, I speak in the voice of the individual I represent. You are to go to the Mallorys’ house tonight, at seven o’clock. Mark it: tonight. You will enjoy a very fine dinner—for Aria is an excellent cook—and you will be told the particulars. But not everything, you understand.” The front teeth diamonds sparkled with candlelight. “Some things are best left unknown, until you need to know. I will tell you that no harm will come to you. He vows this. Unless, of course, an act of God sinks the ship and then his vow would not be valid. But we have an able captain and crew standing by. The ship is…” He waved a hand in the direction of the sea, “out there. It comes closer to shore by night.”
Aria, Matthew was thinking. Rebecca Mallory’s real Christian name. And what might the surname be? “You haven’t told me why he wants me. Until I hear that, I’ll give no thought to going anywhere. Certainly not to have dinner with those snakes.”
Sirki was silent, staring at Matthew. Obviously, he was thinking it over. His face was as expressionless as a burnished mask.
“Professor Fell,” Sirki said at last, “has a problem. He is in need of a problem-solver. What did he tell me, exactly? He said…he wishes for the service of a providence rider. A scout, he said. Someone to forge ahead and mark a trail. That would be an apt description of you and your work, would it not?”
Matthew was dazed. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Fell wants to hire me?”
“It’s somewhat more complicated than that. Your dinner hosts will explain further.” The huge man suddenly got up from his chair and seemingly filled half the room. Really, he literally did fill half the room. He had to bend a little at the waist to keep his turban from brushing the ceiling. “Pardon my intrusion,” he said, “but I did want to keep you on the right progression, young sir.” As Sirki moved toward the door, Matthew pressed himself against the wall to stay out of his way.
Matthew considered himself courageous enough, but not foolhardy. He let Sirki get to the door and open it before he spoke again. “What if I choose not to go? Another building will burn and my name will be on prominent display?”
“What you don’t grasp,” came the smooth reply, “is that the professor can do wonderful things for you…and terrible things to you. I would not push his patience, young—” He stopped himself. “May I call you Matthew? It seems we should be on more friendly terms, if we’re to work together.”
“You can call me the young sir who follows you to wherever you’re going and then proceeds to the high constable’s office. After which I expect there’ll be a visit to Lord Cornbury. You won’t be very difficult to find, I’m sure.”
“No, not difficult at all,” Sirki agreed with a quick and completely insincere smile. “I’m at the Dock House Inn. Room number four. And I’ve already met both those gentlemen. I introduced myself several days ago, as a businessman from Delhi interested in furthering friendship and direct trade between my country and the town of New York. I believe I impressed them. And no, Matthew, I’m neither starting the fires nor writing your name. That’s being handled by persons of less status than myself. It wouldn’t do to dirty my robes with powder and paint, would it?”
“Gunpowder, you mean? That’s what causes the explosions?”
“The professor causes the explosions,” Sirki said, with a slight lifting of the thick black eyebrows. “Even as far away as he is, he is entirely capable of destroying your world, Matthew. He wants a providence rider. He wants especially you.” Sirki paused to let that take deep root. “I should give the professor what he wants, my friend. Otherwise…” He clasped his huge hands together and then abruptly drew them apart.
“Boom,” Sirki said, and with a sweep of his multicolored cloak he left the dairyhouse and closed the door firmly behind him.
Matthew didn’t know if that last gesture was supposed to convey another explosion of a building or his own destruction, but its point was well met. He saw no need to follow Sirki; he had no doubt the giant had lodgings at the Dock House Inn and that he’d made the acquaintances of both Lillehorne and Cornbury. Both of those individuals would listen to him for perhaps ten seconds before he was thrown out of the office. Actually, they wouldn’t even deign to hear him. What possible reason might there be for a businessman from Delhi to be involved in this? Lillehorne would ask. And for that, Matthew would have no answer. Without the letter bearing Sirki’s name, he had nothing.
Which put him back at the beginning.
He ran a hand over his face. He had to get to Number Seven Stone Street. There was nothing pressing at the moment, but there was some correspondence to attend to. He went to the water basin to reapply shaving soap and finish the job. He wasn’t aware that his hand was shaking until the first stroke along his chin produced crimson. He stared into his own dark-shadowed eyes in the mirror. How to get proper rest these nights was the question. He dabbed at the cut on his chin with a handkerchief. He was getting used to the sight of his own blood, which further disturbed him.
Another disturbance had happened at the Trot Then Gallop last night, when Matthew had gone in to have a cup of ale along with some of the other regulars and men who’d manned the bucket brigades. He’d found himself the focus of several curious stares and passing whispers, even from those he knew well. Felix Sudbury was kind enough, but even the Trot’s owner seemed to want to draw away from him, to keep him at arm’s length. Perhaps, Matthew wondered, did Sudbury fear an explosion and burning of the Trot, simply because Matthew had marked the place with his presence? Israel Brandier was the same, and also Tobias Winekoop the stable owner. Did Winekoop fear that by speaking to Matthew too cordially, his horses might go up in flames? Therefore Winekoop too kept his distance, and over in the corner the Dock Ward alderman Josiah Whittaker and the North Ward alderman Peter Conradt sat talking quietly and now and then spearing Matthew with a glance that said Whatever you’re doing or causing to be done…cease it.