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Suddenly, from the shadows, came the whipping crack of a rifle – then two more. The bullets crashed into the golem machine and made it ring like a bell. George threw himself to one side, dragging the Prince with him. Caroline ducked and rolled against a nearby bench. Even though Aubrey was crouching, still next to Stern’s duplicate, he felt exposed and he scrabbled his way to join Caroline.

‘Do not try to escape,’ a Holmlandish voice boomed through the laboratory. ‘Come out and put your hands in the air.’

‘Neumann?’ Prince Albert called. ‘Is that you?’

‘Bertie!’ another voice cried. Aubrey recognised it as the Elektor’s. ‘They said you were dead!’

Within seconds, the laboratory was a milling mass of politicians, royalty, adventurers and confused Imperial Household Guards. Aubrey dusted his hands, watching the Elektor and Prince Albert greet each other. It appeared to Aubrey that the Elektor was genuinely moved to see that the Prince was unharmed, and he bumped him up on his ‘Possibly To Be Trusted’ scale.

The Chancellor, on the other hand, was less than moved. He had a rifle in his hands. He gave it to one of the guards then stood, phlegmatically, watching the Elektor and the Prince exchange reassurances.

Aubrey approached him. ‘What happened?’

The Chancellor shrugged. ‘In the shadows, I thought your prince was the intruder.’

‘It’s good you missed.’

The Chancellor looked askance at him. ‘Most fortunate.’

George ambled over, hands in pockets, but then he stopped and sniffed. ‘What’s that smell?’

Caroline hissed. ‘Smoke. It’s coming from the golem maker.’

At that moment, a fountain of sparks belched from the machine, spraying from the bullet holes like fireworks. The Elektor gaped, horrified. ‘We must leave. Quickly!’

‘What is it?’ Aubrey said over the hissing crackle of electrical discharge.

‘One of von Grolman’s machines. I haven’t had time to study it, but it requires much electricity. We could be in great danger.’

The guards crowded around the Elektor and hustled him to the door. George and Caroline did likewise with Prince Albert, which left Aubrey and the Chancellor. ‘After you, Fitzwilliam,’ the Chancellor said.

Aubrey hesitated. A sharp metallic clanging came from the golem maker and more sparks flew from the bullet holes. He could smell burning and he knew that the workings of the machine were destroying themselves. Nothing would be recovered, further investigation would be useless.

Then he remembered his father’s telling him about the Chancellor’s past.

He’d been a rifleman. More than that, a sharpshooter.

As they stumbled away from the conflagration, Aubrey stared at the Chancellor, who kept glancing back with a look of grim satisfaction.

I don’t think you missed at all, Aubrey thought. He threw up an arm as a side of the golem maker peeled back with an awful screech. I think you hit exactly what you aimed for.

Twenty-three

Aubrey spent the rest of the morning with an abiding sense of relief. While the Prince had a battle on his hands to convince Quentin Hollows that he was all right and that he shouldn’t be heading straight back to Albion, Aubrey was able to stay in the background and be thankful that he’d managed to thwart Dr Tremaine’s plans. He shuddered whenever he thought of what strife would have followed if the rogue magician had been successful in placing a puppet on the throne of Albion.

Aubrey, Caroline and George were interviewed by both the ambassador and Major Vincent, which gave Aubrey time in his room, alone, to reflect on the affair. Stretched out on his bed, he turned over the stones of the day’s happenings to see what crawled out.

It was clear that Dr Tremaine had access to the highest places in Holmland. His position as the special adviser to the Chancellor ensured that. He could easily have slipped into the laboratory and set events in motion.

But what about Baron von Grolman? Was the golemmaking machine really a product of his company? But why, then, would he divulge Dr Tremaine’s plot to Aubrey?

And what about the Chancellor? At first, Aubrey had thought that the Prince was the target, but with the Chancellor’s background there was no doubt he was shooting to destroy the golem maker. His story about an intruder, too, must have been a ruse to hide his involvement in the scheme.

Aubrey decided it was time to revise his reading of the situation. The Chancellor was proving to be remarkably bold in moving against Prince Albert – in the Elektor’s palace, too, of all places. That sort of arrogance was a worrying sign with the prospect of imminent war.

Aubrey rubbed his forehead. He could feel a headache coming on, and he had a ghost to catch. It wasn’t a good combination.

Aubrey, Caroline and George had barely entered the Blue Dog when Bruno Fromm descended on them.

‘My friends,’ he said while steering them back outside, ‘your timing is good. Bruno Fromm can take you to this ghost, right now.’ He went to move off, then he stopped and squinted at Caroline. ‘And who are you?’

Aubrey jumped in. ‘She’s a trusted friend. Caroline Hepworth. Caroline, this is Bruno Fromm. Ghost hunter.’

Fromm leaned toward Caroline. ‘Bruno Fromm is not just any ghost hunter. Bruno Fromm is the best ghost hunter in the world.’

Caroline didn’t flinch. ‘And Bruno Fromm is far from his home in Nordmarsch.’

Fromm stared, cocked his head, then bellowed a laugh that echoed through the empty tavern. ‘You hear Nordmarsch in Fromm’s voice, clever one?’

‘The northern lakes are still thick in your throat.’

Fromm chuckled, then slapped Aubrey a mighty blow on the shoulder. Aubrey had been readying himself for such an expression of approval and managed not to stagger. ‘This one is smart. She will be good value.’ Fromm laughed again.

Aubrey let out a sigh of relief when Caroline didn’t take the ghost hunter to task, but the look she gave him clearly said not to pursue Fromm’s notion of good value.

‘Ah,’ George said. ‘Here’s von Stralick.’

Aubrey turned to see the Holmland spy standing at the doorway, outlined against the midday sun.

‘Where’s Kiefer?’ Aubrey asked.

Von Stralick tugged on his gloves and grimaced. ‘Busy.’

‘I thought he was red-hot in this Dr Tremaine business,’ George said.

‘So did I,’ von Stralick said. ‘But all of a sudden, his historical studies are important. Books, documents, libraries, he has cartloads of them delivered to his rooms.’

Aubrey was quite grateful that Kiefer was busy. He wasn’t the ideal member of a dangerous expedition team. But his lack of interest was intriguing. It seemed as if a chance for advancement was taking precedence over Kiefer’s longed-for revenge. Had he lost sight of it completely, or had he merely postponed it while he chased material success?

And the abandonment of his work into catalysts was equally intriguing. What had prompted the renewed interest in historical studies? Aubrey had come to accept that Kiefer was erratic, but was there more to his changes than that?

Fromm clapped his hands together and Aubrey’s thoughts snapped back to the here and now. ‘So we are all ready? Good.’

Aubrey expected ghost hunting to involve a furtive journey, lurking along laneways, flitting from shadow to shadow, sniffing the air and whatnot, but Fromm confounded him. He took them to a cart that was waiting down a lane alongside the Blue Dog. While a sceptical grey gelding in the traces studied them, Aubrey did his best to take in the sight of the ghost-hunting conveyance.