14 February 1875 of the 6th Era, The Iron Giant

  Dorian returned not just with Mr Perkins, but also with Mr Placek, as the SIU had finished their search. The results were twofold. From the gangway between the lounge and the restaurant carriages, they retrieved what looked to be bits of a broken glass vial. Unfortunately, it bore no identification letters or any other traits that would help tie to some facility or institution, or otherwise mark it as unique. Ms Glancy’s notebook was also nowhere to be found.

  Now all of them were gathered in the lounge, waiting for Mr Perkins to sort his thoughts. The man looked truly distraught, and suddenly aged by another thousand years – his eyes lost their luster, and the creases on his forehead became deeper from constant frowning. Even his lovingly kept moustache sagged.

  “I knew that Ms Glancy was the famed Ms Willow,” he said finally. “It came out accidentally during a charity event. One organised by your church,” he nodded to Charlotte. “Ms Glancy was, from what I could tell, an active member of the community. At least, she was helping set things up and deal with the guests. She asked me not to tell anyone, so I did my best to honour her wish.”

  “How did you justify her presence on the train, if you had to justify it to anyone? And generally, how did you choose who to invite? There are numerous names I expected to see on the list that are missing, and then some that seem to not make much sense. Forgive me for being so judgemental in my assessment,” Dorian lowered his head. Previously, the four of them had a discussion about who was to question Mr Perkins, and decided that Dorian would probably be most fitting. Questions coming from him, no matter how sharp or uncomfortable, would be less likely to cause animosity.

  Now, Charlotte was watching Dorian with a fair bit of interest, unsure if what she was seeing was brilliant acting or if Mr Perkins truly instilled awe in this man. It was indeed her first time meeting Mr Holmes, but she heard a fair few things about him. Some from Antony, some from her other acquaintances in Enua. And none ever described Mr Dorian Holmes as having a weakness, or bowing before anyone, no matter how influential. It was usually the other way round, with rumours going as far as claiming that Dorian was capable of bending reality in order to achieve his goals. Some of his achievements seemed outright impossible.

  Perhaps they were not that far off from the truth. No, the truth was even more intriguing.

  “You really are like your grandfather. I understand that you’re trying to help, and in order to do so, you need to question everyone’s integrity and, perhaps, sanity,” a smile briefly appeared on Mr Perkins’ face. “I will start with the simple. I didn’t have to justify anything to anyone, apart from maybe mentioning a name or two to Lord Dawntreader and Ms Sharrock. Mostly to ensure that there were no tensions between them and the potential invitee. I also did my best to not invite people who were on bad terms with each other. That is why, for example, we have Mr Styles on board, but not Ms Decrua. While she is a charming woman and highly praised inventor, her husband and Mr Styles once argued so much and so fiercely over some blueprint that both got fined for disturbing public peace. I extended an invitation to her, but she politely refused, reminding me of that incident. Mr Lr’mon, on the other hand, was too busy with one of his latest experiments.

  “There were also a few last minute changes. Mr and Mrs Adamski, for example. Initially, it was supposed to be Ms Scarletshire. She was not here to entertain the crowd, if that matters. I hoped he could simply enjoy the trip back to Stolberg. Unfortunately, she cancelled at the last moment, stating changes in her schedule, but asked if I could extend the hospitality to Mrs Adamska. I believe the two of them are good friends.”

  That explained why the two, being an opera singer and a theatre actor, were not part of the program. Charlotte felt somewhat sorry for Mr Perkins, as he lowered his head at that point, shaking it regretfully. Even though those two kept their bickering to a minimum, apart from yesterday’s outburst, they still made those around rather uncomfortable.

  Too bad the Nightingale of Stolberg never made it on the train. I would have loved to hear that voice again. She rubbed her temple, concentrating on the here and now. She could reminisce about the past later.

  “What about Lady Flowers? She received the invitation but a few days before The Iron Giant’s departure.”

  “She took the place of Lady Adele Lavenderbridge.”

  “Ah,” Charlotte knowingly nodded. “Lady Lavenderbridge slipped and fell down while having a stroll in her garden. Quite tragic, too, as she broke her leg as a result. No, in truth, it was serendipitous,” her voice became gloomy. “With how it was going, it was her neck that should have snapped.”

  “What do you mean?” Dorian was puzzled. As was everyone else present in the room.

  “I don’t think you want to know. I could, of course, tell you what really led to that unfortunate incident. What steps it involved, and why the Nightmare Poets were called to the scene almost immediately. But then I’d have to use a fair few spells to make sure that none of you, and I do mean none, are capable of uttering so much as a word on the matter.”

  “I’d rather remain blissfully unaware, and I’m certain that everyone shares my sentiment,” Dorian agreed, then turned back to Mr Perkins. “So inviting Lady Flowers was just a spur of the moment decision, with no further considerations?”

  “Partially correct. I would be a terrible liar if I said I had no ulterior motives when inviting her,” Mr Perkins allowed himself a cheeky grin. “Lady Flowers is an incredibly useful connection, even though at first glance, this might not seem to be the case.”

  “Is this a roundabout way to say that she is an information broker? Or something worse?”

  “Nothing illegal, I assure you. To put it simply, she knows a lot of newspaper people. If she has a favourable first impression of this trip, positive publicity is all but guaranteed.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  “I made sure that wouldn’t happen,” Mr Perkins raised his finger.

  “But why didn’t you invite her in the first place?”

  “Oh, well… There were too many names to choose from. However, when I met her during Lord Seaspire’s reception, I just had to immediately extend the invitation. She was the perfect candidate.”

  Charlotte watched Dorian frown, as if he had just remembered something. She, too, now had a burning question on her mind. Thankfully, Dorian had reached the same conclusion as he followed that by asking, “Mr Perkins, did Lady Flowers undergo any background checks?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “I believe so,” he shifted forward a bit, leaning on his walking cane, and lowered his head as he was saying that, avoiding Dorian’s eyes.

  “Alright. Mr Perkins, would you be so kind as to provide me with a list of people who were accepted last minute? If there is such a list, of course,” seeing him nod, Dorian continued, “I am quite curious though. Why did you invite Ms Glancy, specifically? And did she agree immediately or did you have to persuade her?”

  “As I said, I accidentally found out about Ms Glancy’s alter ego during one of the church’s events about four months ago. At that time, the lists were not fully finalised, as you probably remember. We were still receiving replies, both positive and negative. And earlier that day, I just happened to have received one such negative reply.

  “When I realised who Ms Glancy was, I thought it was the Lady of Luck herself who had arranged our meeting. There are numerous famous authors. Sir Fleming, Dame Roselle, Mr Carpenter and Ms Grimroad, to name a few. And then, Frederica Willow, and she was standing right in front of me. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

  “You sound almost like a friend of mine whenever he talks about Sir Fleming.”

  “Do I?” Mr Perkins guiltily looked at Dorian. “Gertrude loves her writing. She analysed every single poem, not just those published in In Blooms Do We Meet, but everything prior to that. I went on quite the hunt, seeing that Ms Willow’s previous works were scattered across small literary magazines and anthologies. Following that, Gertrude even memorised a few of those and recites them by heart from time to time.”

  “I thought she didn’t enjoy reading?”

  “You would be right. However, she greatly enjoyed Ms Willow’s works, to a point where meeting her became a sort of obsession.”

  “Did the two of them get to meet?” Dorian tensed.

  Mr Perkins quickly shook his head, “I promised Ms Glancy full confidentiality, and I did my best to keep my promise. I was only planning to tell Gertrude that there were rumours Ms Willow was on board, but I knew not who it could have been. Unfortunately, it looks like someone still found out.”

  “We cannot be certain just yet. However, let us suppose that for a moment. Do you have any idea how that could have happened? Did you keep any notes? Mention it to someone?”

  “No such thing. None of those involved in checking her background were informed about it, and it wasn’t mentioned in any of the reports.”

  “Alright. Did she accept the invitation immediately?”

  “Oh, no. She immediately refused. Only to change her mind a day later.”

  “How did she explain the sudden change of heart?”

  Mr Perkins firmly gripped his walking cane, trying to remember the conversation, “She told me that she had forgotten about ‘an errand’ she had to run in Lindau. Yes, that was exactly her wording. An errand. On the other side of the continent. Whichever way, but The Iron Giant was the most convenient way for her to return to Stolberg. Definitely much more convenient than going by steamboat to Ledavia and travelling from there, let alone trying to return by any other means of land transportation.”

  “Out of curiosity, do you know how she got to Lindau?”

  “I can only speculate on that matter. Perhaps someone better acquainted with her can provide some insight?”

  This at least answered Charlotte’s initial question: why did this group of Enuan citizens start their journey in Lindau? She could imagine them accepting an invitation to board the train in Quillivia and travel from there, but there was no way someone would have agreed to waste their time going all the way to Lundhaven, especially with no teleportation involved.

  Now, it was quite simple. Lady Flowers was visiting a relative, and just happened to get a ride home as she ended up in the right place at the right time. Mr Flint was finalising a very important deal. And finally, Ms Glancy was there to run “an errand”, whatever that meant. Did Professor Stein know anything about it? Unlikely. She wasn’t even sure how Ms Glancy got on the train to begin with.

  Who else would know? Mr Flint or Lady Flowers? She considered the notion, but found that to be unlikely. Both were quite surprised to see Ms Glancy on board, from what Charlotte could recall of the first day. Either neither knew, or both were brilliant actors.

  “Could either of you remind me, when did you receive the warning?” She raised her head.

  “Two weeks before the beginning of the voyage,” Mr Perkins replied.

  “Was Mr Holmes involved in background checks before the fact? And,” she turned to Dorian, “were you among the passengers at that point?”

  “Yes to both of your questions,” Dorian replied. “Though I was here as a guest of honour, not as someone hired to maintain order. Have you figured something out?”

  “Not exactly. Mr Perkins, surely you knew that Ms Glancy had received death threats previously. And yet, she was offered no bodyguards. Was that your decision or something she insisted on?”

  “It was her decision. Of course I knew about her situation, but she was certain that by simply staying anonymous she could avoid any unnecessary drama. Besides, surely she would have warned someone if she saw the person she described in her poems?”

  “That would have been the case if she knew who she was describing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “So far, from what I understood of the situation, there are two competing theories. One, Ms Glancy hid clues to a real murder in one of her poems. Two, it was a brilliant advertising campaign that brought her fame and a fairly large chunk of income. But what if there is a third possibility? Ms Glancy really did write a poem based on a real murder, only that she did not know who the killer was. Say, she had reasons to believe that someone she knew, or perhaps someone she read about, could not have died the way they did. However, she had no way to prove that, nor did she know who the perpetrator was. Still, perhaps driven by the desire to bring justice, or in a bout of sadness, she created a poem based on those events.”

  “It is a possibility that a few, myself included, have entertained,” Dorian agreed.

  “In that case, Ms Glancy knew about the danger, but not where it came from. And let us suppose that it wasn’t someone she knew personally, but someone she read about. In that case, her remaining anonymous is truly the only defence she had. It still baffles me that she decided to board the train.”

  “With the amount of security, perhaps she thought the risk was worth it? Or found whatever means she was planning to use to return to Stolberg riskier?” Antony suggested after some consideration. “It is a question I’ve been asking myself as well.”

  “She did not provide an explanation,” Mr Perkins shrugged. “I can only say that she did not look nervous when she was accepting my invitation.”

  “Thank you. I personally have no more questions,” Charlotte looked at the rest of them, but everyone shook their heads.

  “In that case, enjoy the remainder of the trip. Just three more hours till our arrival in Stolberg. And enjoy your stay, Lady Dawntreader. Your father said it would be your first visit.”

  “Yes, and I am looking forward to it.”

  Once Mr Perkins left, Dorian sighed in relief, leaning back in his armchair.

  “Who do we have left?”

  “Mr Adamski, seeing that someone heard him and Ms Glancy argue the other day,” Charlotte leafed through her notes, her expression completely blank. “Mr Holmes, once we arrive, would you be so kind as to gather information about that mysterious author of the article that made Ms Glancy famous? Surely it wasn’t based on some anonymous letter.”

  “I will see what I can do.”

  The conversation with Mr Adamski was quite short. He and Ms Glancy did indeed have a somewhat unpleasant exchange, but it was merely her asking him to keep the noise down, to which he profusely apologised.