Heart of Gold

'Splendid,' Aubrey said. Pieces were falling into place. He turned to Caroline and George. 'We need to go there. Now.'

'What is it?' Caroline said.

'The Soul Stealer. He must get his material somewhere, especially the components for the flash powder he uses. A chemical supplier may have records.'

'It's late,' Caroline pointed out. 'They may be closed.'

'That's why we must hurry.'

Simone, perplexed, gave Aubrey the address.

As they went to leave, Duval broke away from an earnest conversation with three of his cast. 'You are going?'

'We must,' Aubrey said.

'The next rehearsal?' Caroline asked.

'Tomorrow evening.'

Aubrey groaned. He had thought it was an internal one, but when everyone stared at him he realised otherwise. 'Sorry. I just thought of something.'

Duval raised an eyebrow. 'And the ball?' he said to Caroline. 'You will consider my offer?'

'When you get your invitation.'

More farewells and they were off, with Aubrey brooding over the embassy ball. In many ways it was a small thing, considering the events that were unfolding, but it was taking a considerable amount of his attention. How was he going to invite Caroline to the ball now that Duval had made advances? The Gallian had stylishness, flair, confidence and never seemed overawed in the company of the opposite sex. I'm sure he's never been tonguetied, or started babbling, or generally been an embarrassment, Aubrey thought. Why was it that he could conceive and execute a fiendishly complex plan to catch a master criminal like Dr Tremaine, but when it came to deciding the best way to approach a young lady, he had no idea what to do?

He sighed. It astounded him that the human race hadn't died out millennia ago, considering how difficult it was to arrange a simple thing like getting to know each other. Apparently people had managed it for a long time, but the whole business made his head spin.

In this glum mood, he didn't object when George hailed a cab. The horse ambled through the Blessine district, past the great cemetery of the Five Brothers, to the industrial area next to the rail yards that were part of St Denis Station. Along the way, Aubrey counted three sink holes that had opened, swallowing buildings whole. They had been barricaded, but the stench that came from them was not so easily blocked off.

The evening was turning into night when the cab deposited them in front of a modest red-brick building. It had an elaborate sign announcing that it was the establishment belonging to Poyas and Stern, Chemical Suppliers, a company modern enough to boast a telephone number. The building was in a short street that seemed to be entirely made up of foundries and metal works. The smell of hot oil greeted them as Aubrey alighted, only to be confronted by a heavy grille over the front door.

George rattled the grille. 'No late workers here, it seems. I can't see any lights.'

Aubrey wasn't satisfied. 'Perhaps they don't do much walk-by trade.'

'A lane runs down the side,' Caroline reported. 'There's a long yard behind the building, and a gate.'

'Very good,' Aubrey said. 'Let's see what we can see.'

The yard was quiet. Barrels were piled against the wooden fence, and a mound of scrap metal stood just inside the gate. Dozens of wine bottles were stacked against the far fence. Two delivery lorries were backed against the wall of the building, under a long, barred window.

The back door of the building was open. Aubrey stopped. The quietness made him nervous, as did the fact that the door was not wide open – it was barely ajar.

'Shall we knock?' George asked. 'Or just waltz in and ask for a dozen of their best carbon rods and their customer record books?'

'I see movement. A light,' Caroline said softly. 'Someone is inside.'

'George,' Aubrey murmured. 'Can you go back to the front of the building, please? Take note of the telephone number, then go to the telephone box back at St Denis Station and ring it.'

Caroline nodded. 'If those inside pick it up, we'll know whether they're legitimate or not.'

'If they answer, ask them about strontium fluoride carbon rods. That will test if they know what they're talking about.' Aubrey smiled. 'But if they simply let the telephone ring, I'd say that they're intruders.'

George patted his pockets. 'I hope you have change, old man.'

Aubrey pulled out a handful of coins and then George was off. 'We need a vantage point,' he said to Caroline.

'To see without being seen.' Caroline scanned the yard. 'The scrap metal?'

'Not good enough,' Aubrey said slowly, his mind working. 'I may have a solution . . .'

'Magic?'

He nodded. 'A spell of concealment. It's effective, but short-lasting.' He cleared his throat. 'The area of effect is limited. And there are two of us. To conceal. As it were.'

'Enough, Aubrey, I understand.'

'I wouldn't suggest this if it weren't –'

She held up her hand. 'It's important. I know. Let's not be so prim, shall we? Can we move while this spell is in force?'

'Yes. As long as we stay close together.'

'Good. Do your trickery and then we can move until we're inside the fence. We'll take up a position to the right of the gate so we can see the window and door. Satisfactory?'

'Yes. Good. Stand behind me.'

'Is this close enough?'

Aubrey felt her hands on his shoulders. He smelled violets and his head swam. I will not be distracted, he thought. 'Hmm?'

'How's this?'

Her arms went around him.

It doesn't mean anything. It's practical, that's all, nothing more. 'Just about perfect.' He tried to concentrate on the spell.

She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. His brain turned to jelly.

'What did you say?' she asked.

'Nothing.'

'It sounded like "blattoo".'

'Spell talk. Magic stuff. Very complicated. Now, don't move.'

He had done harder things than working a spell with Caroline Hepworth embracing him – preventing his soul being drawn into the true death came to mind – but not many.

'There,' he whispered. The air around them rippled like a desert horizon at midday. He smiled. The gathering darkness would obscure the warping effect. 'We're concealed. Speak softly.'

She put her mouth to his ear and he did a remarkably good job of not buckling at the knees. 'That waviness in the air? That's the spell?'

'What? Oh, yes. Law of Photonic Flow. Or something. An observer sees what's on the other side of us rather than us. So to speak.'

'Let's move.'

Aubrey didn't know what to do with his hands. They were hanging by his sides like lumps of dough. In for a penny, he thought and placed them on top of Caroline's. 'Left foot first,' he whispered. 'One, two, three, go.'