Crowther was sitting by Harriet’s side, staring into the cold ashes of the fire. He had taken a place next to her while she was reading but did not interrupt her.
‘How are the two young men?’ she said at last.
‘Exhausted,’ he told her, ‘but otherwise undamaged. Florian zu Frenzel is sleeping. Pegel is wandering around the house.’
‘Where is your cane?’ she asked, already knowing the answer.
Crowther shrugged. ‘How else could he wander around the house?’
She laughed softly, and he smiled. ‘A deputation from the court has arrived,’ he continued. ‘Colonel Padfield and his men are going through the house and it seems the Al-Saids have come with him. Clode and Graves have returned to Rachel and we are to go and meet the Duke.’
‘To receive his congratulations?’
‘His blessings for our return journey to England perhaps. I suspect he would be pleased if we were to leave the court quietly and soon. Krall continues, with the air of a man of great conviction, to hide many of these crimes. They will execute Frenzel for the murders of Beatrice and Lady Martesen, and the attempt on Mr Clode. The other deaths will be described as accident or illness.’
Harriet sighed. ‘Will Swann recover?’
‘Yes, thanks to the heroic actions of Mr Clode. Not many men would rescue another from a funeral pyre — but then I think that may have done him some good.’
‘He could not save Lady Martesen, but he cheated Frenzel of his last victim?’ Crowther nodded. ‘I think you are right,’ Harriet agreed. ‘Clode is a better hero than a victim.’
‘Swann is not a young man, but given he has survived so far, I think he will regain his health. I suspect Count Frenzel was nearing the end of his supplies — those items that came originally from the shaman, through Kupfel’s and Beatrice’s hands to him — and that Swann therefore received a lighter dose of the paralysing agent. The Chancellor is to remain here until he is fully recovered.’
‘And Wimpf?’
‘Disappeared like smoke in the battle. However, Krall seems confident he will track him down.’ Crowther closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall behind him. ‘Is there anything else? Yes — now Frenzel is under lock and key in Grenzhow, Krall and Michaels have gone off in the direction of Oberbach. They will take statements about the discovery of Beatrice and see the young lady properly buried.’
‘Mrs Padfield?’
‘Attends to her duties at court with the new Duchess. Her connection to little Beatrice remains secret.’
‘I wish her every success among those people.’ Harriet tapped the pile of papers at her side. ‘Have you read this?’ He nodded. ‘A love story! Good Lord, it is a dark idea of love. What do you think he would have done, when Swann’s death did not give the automaton the power of speech?’
Crowther stared out over the courtyard again; it still smelled of burned straw, a faint tang of smoke. ‘Perhaps she would have spoken to him.’
‘Crowther?’
‘No, I have not turned mystic, only his madness was so complete, his illusion so seamless, he might have actually heard her. I wonder what she would have said …’
‘Has a search been made? Has the poison book been discovered yet?’
Crowther looked uncomfortable. ‘Mrs Westerman, Manzerotti arrived while you were reading …’
Her eyes widened. ‘And you let him take it? Good God, Crowther, the most dangerous man in Europe and you hand him that?’
‘Harriet …’
‘Crowther, where is he?’
‘Frenzel’s study behind the great hall, but-’
She was on her feet at once and walked away from him with a firm step. ‘If you would let me finish …’ he said quietly, as he watched her neat figure disappear into the shadows. ‘No? Very well.’
‘Is she beyond repair? I’m so terribly sorry I shot her.’ Pegel had been standing in the doorway leaning on his borrowed cane for a few minutes now, watching the Al-Said brothers inspect the damaged automaton.
Adnan looked up. ‘Nothing is entirely beyond repair, Mr Pegel, but the central cam that controls her movement is destroyed. Poor Nancy.’
‘Poor Nancy indeed,’ Sami said, touching the automaton’s lifeless face. It was strange looking at it. It had seemed so alive last night, yet now, in the daylight, it looked like a skilful work of art, not nature. ‘Not your fault the man who had you made was a crazy fellow, was it? We can use the head again. The Ambassador to China has asked us to create an automaton that plays an instrument. She shall go off and have more adventures there. More pleasant ones, I hope. If we create another automaton who dances, she will not have this same face.’
‘I note you don’t call her Antonia,’ Pegel said.
‘Never,’ Sami said firmly. ‘We made her, and we called her Nancy. Better.’
Pegel had to agree. ‘What will happen to the vessel? Is there still … anything in it?’
‘A residue. A little gothic, I understand,’ Adnan said, picking up another bent cog and tracing its teeth and grooves with his fingertip. ‘There is a suggestion that it is to be melted down, discreetly, by the Public Executioner. An agreement was reached that there should be some ceremony about it, but no one was sure quite what it should be. Those poor people.’ Adnan leaned his weight against the table and looked with affection at the broken wreckage of his great work. ‘Am I right in thinking, Mr Pegel, that you saw her perform?’
‘Yes, dancing hand-in-hand with that lunatic an hour before the troops arrived. She looked wonderful. Her movement, the way she looked at him, her breathing. I swore up and down it was a real woman.’ He saw they were looking at him with some curiosity.
‘The darkness deceived you, Mr Pegel,’ Adnan said. ‘She did not breathe.’
‘She did! The way her chest rose and fell — that jewel on her breast made it quite clear.’
‘Mr Pegel, I built her. There are breathing mechanisms in some of our creations, but not in Nancy. She does not breathe.’
There was a period of silence. Pegel swallowed. ‘Of course. Candlelight. All very emotional at the time. Mind plays tricks.’
‘Quite understandable you should make the mistake in the circumstances.’
‘Er, yes. Quite. I shall leave you to your work, gentlemen.’
Harriet found Manzerotti perched on Count Frenzel’s desk in the library.
‘Manzerotti, where is the poison book?’
He looked up. ‘Ah! Mrs Westerman arrives with her eyes ablaze. Let evil tremble!’ He turned a page. ‘What book, dear lady? I have Beatrice’s scrapbook of the esoteric cobbled together from the Alchemist’s papers here. She had a fine imagination and a talent for mimicking the literature. She should have taken to writing novels. Would you like to see it?’
‘You know perfectly well that is not what I mean.’
‘Herr Kupfel’s poison book? Perhaps Count Frenzel destroyed it.’
‘You have stolen it already, Manzerotti! You would not be sitting there so pleased with yourself if it were not in your possession. Do you really expect Crowther and I to let you leave with that in your hands?’
‘I have something to show you.’ He picked up an item from the table beside him, then slid gracefully from his perch and handed it to her. She looked down. It was a glass jar, one of the set from the poisoner’s room.
‘Is this a threat?’
‘Perhaps you could examine the jar a little more carefully.’
She turned it in her hands. On one side was printed in gold: Kupfel’s Modern Miracles, by Appointment to the Court of Ulrichsberg.
‘I see.’