‘We won’t be dummies in a bidding war,’ Caroline said firmly. ‘If you don’t tell us what’s in the box, we’re leaving.’
Steady, Aubrey thought, don’t push too hard. ‘We can’t afford not to know,’ he said, supporting Caroline. ‘Too dangerous for us not to.’
Rodolfo blew out a breath through his moustache. ‘It’s a golem maker.’
Aubrey stared at Rodolfo and then at the crate. It was about the same size as the machine they’d encountered in the Elektor’s laboratory. ‘What makes you think they have such a thing?’ he said, keeping up his persona.
‘I heard rumours of such a machine some time ago,’ Rodolfo murmured, his eyes on Shaw and Treece, who were still talking in furtive tones. ‘Eventually I was contacted, given a demonstration, and was convinced.’
‘You’ve seen it in action?’ Aubrey asked.
‘A month ago, those two,’ Rodolfo gestured at Shaw and Treece, ‘met me in a warehouse here in Fisherberg. I watched as clay was shovelled in one end of the device, then Shaw placed his own cat in a chute. Electricity was connected and the thing was turned on.’ He glanced at Aubrey. ‘The hair all over my body stood up, then they released the cover. On my mother’s grave, a perfect replica of the cat sat up and stared at us.’
This was vital information. Aubrey could already see himself writing an extensive report for the Security Directorate. Who was making these machines? ‘You have need for such a device?’
‘We have several uses in mind.’
‘How much were they asking?’ Caroline asked.
‘One hundred thousand marks.’
‘One hundred thousand marks,’ Caroline repeated, eyes wide.
‘You see why I’m interested in reducing their price.’
‘Don’t bother,’ Aubrey said. ‘Tell them that you’re no longer interested, and I’ll save you fifty thousand of those marks.’
‘Fifty thousand? How?’
‘Our firm also produces golem makers. But thanks to our superior technicians, we can offer one to you for fifty thousand marks. As long as you’re prepared to wait for two months.’
‘Two months?’ Rodolfo pursed his lips and Aubrey could see the two months versus fifty thousand marks equation on his face. Then the rebel chief brightened. He stuck out his hand. ‘Done.’
Aubrey shook. ‘I suggest you leave now. Let me deal with Shaw and Treece.’
Rodolfo grinned. ‘My pleasure. You’ll contact me?’
‘Of course.’ Aubrey paused and had a sudden, unwelcome thought. ‘The man who tried to hire you as mercenaries. Tall fellow, was he?’
‘With a pointed beard and a nice, fresh black eye. I’ll warrant that he got it in a bar brawl, not fighting for a cause.’
Manfred. ‘Where did you last see him?’
‘Near the library. He left, but he said he would be back tomorrow if I reconsidered. I have half a mind to come back and thrash him.’ Rodolfo left, whistling a moody tune.
Shaw and Treece hurried over. ‘Where is he going?’
‘To talk to his bankers,’ Aubrey said, ‘but don’t worry about that. How would you like to make an extra twenty thousand marks by selling your machine to me instead?’
He hoped Hollows had a large account for ‘miscellaneous expenses’. And a place to store a golem maker.
After a delightful lunch in a café on the edge of the Founders’ Park, and some more time helping Lady Rose with her preparations, Aubrey and Caroline were in high spirits as they made their way back to the embassy. Aubrey was already formulating the report about the golem machine, and trying to work out how to ship it back to Albion. Simply knowing that such a machine existed could steer Albion’s magical experts in the right direction. But having a working device to study would be even better.
He’d spent long nights wondering about the rights and wrongs of helping build powerful weapons. It didn’t seem right to make devices that could harm and kill, even if he was helping his country. On the other hand, not doing so could leave his own family and friends vulnerable if war broke out and other nations had no such qualms.
It was a moral quagmire. While not sure he was entirely right, he didn’t like the idea of Albion being attacked. He was determined that wouldn’t happen.
The success of the impromptu espionage was exhilarating, but Aubrey was doubly elated because of Caroline. As they walked, she recounted every detail of their double-handed swindle. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks brushed with colour, and Aubrey couldn’t help notice the way she touched his arm to emphasise particularly important points.
It was wonderful.
So when they entered the embassy only to find George and von Stralick arguing in an office off the entry hall, Aubrey saw this as a minor hiccup in an otherwise successful day. He motioned to Caroline to wait while they caught the direction of the argument.
‘I should have known,’ von Stralick was saying. He was sitting behind a large desk and brushing the crown of a stylish black hat with a sleeve. ‘Your lack of imagination doomed our enquiries the moment we set out.’
George was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. Aubrey recognised that his normally even-tempered friend was well on the way to the sort of anger that made him a formidable foe. ‘My lack of imagination?’ George growled. ‘ You insisted that we try to find Fromm again. Did you think he was lying about leaving the city?’
‘His type always lie.’ Von Stralick sniffed. ‘It’s a way of life for them.’
‘That’s the sort of unhelpful comment that meant we spent the whole day running around in circles.’
‘Ach. It’s not as if you had any better ideas.’
George advanced on the desk. He put his fists on it and leaned toward von Stralick. ‘You didn’t listen to my ideas.’
Von Stralick put his hat on the desk. ‘You are a follower. Not a person of intellect. You must know your place.’
Aubrey winced at that, and with the chance that actual physical violence was just around the corner he decided it was a good time to intercede. He stepped into the office. ‘George, von Stralick! No luck, I take it?’
Instantly, von Stralick adopted a pose of casual boredom. ‘Ah, Fitzwilliam! Luck is something that was in short supply for us today. This Sylvia Tremaine is elusive. Our enquiries were fruitless.’ He bowed to Caroline. ‘Caroline. I must compliment you on your exquisite dress. It suits you.’
‘Thank you, Hugo,’ Caroline said. ‘But it’s a shame about Sylvia.’
‘All may not be lost. Sometimes the simplest approaches work best,’ Aubrey said. ‘George, is there a telephone directory anywhere in this place?’
While George was searching the shelves, Aubrey sat opposite von Stralick. He picked up the telephone. ‘Let’s look at this logically. Sylvia has been in many parts ever since whatever her brother did to her, correct?’
Caroline nodded. ‘And those parts were sent on their way to reunifying after you neutralised the eruption at the Tremaine home.’
‘Exactly. According to Fromm, the parts will be drawn back to the body, the most significant remnant of the original person. But where is it? Alive, but not responding, it must have been taken care of for years.’
‘True,’ von Stralick said, ‘but not terribly helpful.’
‘Oh, but it could be.’ Aubrey took the telephone directory from George. He leafed through it, found what he was after, and – in his best Holmlandish – asked the operator for a number. ‘Western Hospital? I’m a medical student from Greythorn University in Albion. That’s right, I’m here in Fisherberg for the symposium. Yes, it’s a wonderful occasion. Now, I have a special interest in long-term coma patients. Would you have any in your hospital that I could visit? You do? What are their names?’