By the following morning, Alden had managed to regain his bearings a little. Lucille Baines really was a very compelling speaker, and Alden had found himself going along with her rather more readily than he had intended. But a night of sober reflection had calmed him down significantly. After all, even accepting the notion that the Han wished to mine for ore on the moon, the journey between that and an attempt at world domination was a long one, and one that could no doubt be stymied in a dozen different ways. No matter how much Lucille might wish to present it that way, Alden was hardly holding the fate of the world in his hands. That being said, it was clear that there was more than simple academic espionage at play here. What he had learned about this Li Tao fellow definitely suggested a link between him and the Han government. And while he couldn’t accept that this matter would somehow decide the fate of the world, he could definitely believe that there were significant national interests at play. And it was with such weighty thoughts that Alden stepped out the door and onto the busy London streets. “Read all about it! Academic community shaken as spontaneous combustion claims the life of a prominent researcher in the middle of an experiment! Read all about it!” Alden noted the cry of the paper boy with mild surprise. It was somewhat strange that the death of Dr. Rawleigh would make the papers so long after his demise. Especially in a publication like the Rising Star, which tended a little sensationalist. Then again, the matter had been kept fairly quiet, so perhaps it simply hadn’t reached the ears of London’s journalists until now. Sure, they may be a cutthroat bunch of prodnoses, but they couldn’t be everywhere. Letting his thoughts fall back to the matter of Lucille Baines, he could only conclude, given the evidence he had on hand, that she was some manner of agent of the crown. Not necessarily working for the queen herself, but certainly in the employ of some member of the royal family. After all, this whole matter seemed to be very much of national interest. And then there was her habit of visiting the Blue Blood Club, and the fact that she threw around hundreds of pounds with casual ease. No, there was no doubt in Alden’s mind that Lucille worked directly for the royal family… “Read all about it! Scenes of horror at the Material Research Laboratory of the University of Oxford! Read all about it!” Alden was instantly wrenched from his ponderings as he rounded on the paper boy, hastily digging a coin from his purse and tossing it to the boy as he snatched the paper from his hands. As Alden stalked off, already in the process of opening the flimsy newssheet, the boy was left staring at the shilling resting in his hand where he had expected to find the tuppence the paper actually cost. Not that Alden noticed. He had already stormed off to the nearest bench and plonked himself down, hastily scanning the paper for the relevant article. SHOCK AND HORROR AT THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD! Reported by Amelia Timmons The academic community is reeling today in the wake of the terrible tragedy at the University of Oxford late last evening. Professor Laurence Abney (56), while in the midst of a routine experiment at the Material Research Laboratory, was suddenly enveloped in intense flame, and burned until nothing was left but ashes. His research assistant, Miss Elyra Ariti (24), watched in horror as her mentor and employer went up in flames right before her very eyes. “It was the most ghastly thing I have ever seen.” Miss Ariti told this reporter. “He was bustling about the lab one second, and the next he went up like a puff of cotton held to a flame. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life, and I dearly hope I’ll never see such a thing ever again.” When asked if the professor had been performing any dangerous experiments, Miss Ariti firmly denied that this was the case. “While the professor’s research involved a lot of flammable materials, none of it poses a health hazard, and we certainly haven’t been doing anything that would make a man burst into flames!” When asked about the specific nature of the work, Miss Ariti refused to comment, citing university policy on ongoing research. The chancellor of the university, Lord Theobald Storm (53), likewise refused to comment on the nature of the research conducted by Professor Abney, but he had this to say about the incident: “It truly is a dark day for the university and the entire academic community. Professor Abney was a fine natural philosopher and a good man. We are of course giving our full cooperation to the constabulary, who are currently investigating the incident. Once the investigation is complete, Abney will be interred in the Professorial Crypt with full honours, and a university-wide day of remembrance will be held.” When asked if he suspected foul play of any sort, Lord Storm referred all related inquiries to the constabulary. Inspector Richard McMorgan (46), who is in charge of the investigation, has so far refused to make any comments. But rest assured, gentle readers, that the moment any further information is available, you can read about it right here, exclusively in the Rising Star. Putting the paper aside, Alden drew a deep breath, holding it for a few moments as his thoughts chased each other in circles. Then, with a quick, sharp exhale, he got off the bench and headed for the nearest telegraphic office. There, he sent a short message to the address he’d been given just last night. “SAW THE NEWS. SHOULD I LOOK INTO IT. SEND A MESSAGE TO MY SHOP. ALDEN.” After that he returned to his shop, where he found a rather pale Mr. Dawkins sitting heavily on a chair while Miss Oxley rubbed gentle circles into his back. It was, quite frankly, the most tender thing he had ever seen Miss Oxley do and certainly seemed to lend credence to Mrs. Tatter’s theory that the two were romantically involved. Still, that was hardly the most urgent thing about the situation. “Mr. Dawkins, what’s the matter? You look terribly distraught.” “Oh, Mr. Stowe.” Mr. Dawkins replied weakly. “I do so apologize. It’s just, I read something in a newspaper on my way to work that rather caught me off guard.” Something clicked in the back of Alden’s mind. “About the death of Professor Abney? I think you mentioned working for him.” “I did, for several weeks. We certainly weren’t close or anything, but he was a good man. And he personally congratulated me when he heard of my new employment, even if he made some jibes about my job performance.” “I thought you said you mostly had to lift and carry things?” Mr. Dawkins smiled wryly, a little bit of colour returning to his face. “Exactly. Professor Abney worked in an area set aside for dangerous material interactions, so according to university regulations no-one was allowed to work there without a certain degree of education, even if the work was just hauling materials around. I’m not exactly the most muscular person in the world, but they couldn’t find anyone else qualified to work there who would work for such low wages. Gods know I wouldn’t have taken the job if I wasn’t in dire need of employment.” “What sort of things did you carry, anyway?” “Oh, flammable materials, mostly. Professor Abney was doing a lot of experiments related to combustion. It’s a little ironic, in a macabre sort of way.” “Yes…” Alden agreed thoughtfully. “Ironic… Tell me, did Professor Abney work with phlogiston at all?” “Oh yes, he was very interested in measuring the amount of phlogiston emitted by different materials during combustion. I think he might have been trying to design some sort of improved phlogiston refining process. Honestly, carrying phlogiston tanks around is awful. They’re not heavy, obviously, but they have far more inertia than their mass would suggest, which can trip you up very easily. What I ended up doing was…” From there, the discussion mostly devolved into small talk to help Mr. Dawkins take his mind off things. Half an hour later, he seemed very much recovered, and got started on the tasks of the day. After that, Alden thought to excuse himself to his apartment for a spot of tea and a good think, but he had barely even started up the stairs when Miss Oxley called out that a message had arrived for him. “Well now, that was certainly quick.” Retrieving the message, Alden found that it was stamped by the very same telegraphic office he had just recently visited, and marked for express delivery to his address. Mindful of onlookers, Alden took the message up to his apartment before opening it. “INVESTIGATE IMMEDIATELY. MEET MASTER OF LABORATORIES WILHELM PROUD IN HIS OFFICE AT 2PM TODAY. HE WILL GET YOU ACCESS TO THE LAB. LUCILLE.” Alden was honestly impressed. In less than one full hour, Lucille had apparently received his message, considered the issue, arranged means for him to investigate a laboratory that was currently under active investigation by the constabulary and sent him a reply with instructions. “I suppose I’m headed off to Oxford. Not that I expected anything else…” Alden hadn’t been to the University of Oxford for almost a decade. Just once, he had been invited to give a guest lecture on local alternatives to herbs used in traditional Arabic tinctury. It had gone over fairly well, but not so well that he was invited back for further lectures. Seeing it now, a decade later, was a bit of a peculiar experience. Because while the core of the university was virtually unchanged, no less than two dozen new buildings had sprung up around the old university grounds in the past nine years. Some of them had already been under construction when Alden last visited, but most of them took him completely by surprise. And it was so crowded! Everywhere he looked, he saw a veritable horde of young men and women milling about. The general atmosphere seemed to be a mixture of sombre reflection and nervous excitement, as one would expect to find among young people after a recent tragedy. Clearly, the news of Professor Abney’s passing had reached the ears of the student body with all due haste. After asking several people for directions, he managed to find the way to the office of the Master of Laboratories. Despite spending some time getting turned around in the mazelike halls of the old university building, he still arrived a good half an hour before the time of his appointment. As such, it came as something of a surprise when the man’s secretary immediately ushered him into the office the moment he arrived. The master of laboratories was a robust fellow, probably some years Alden’s senior, dressed in a grey-green tweed suit that looked like it could stop a bullet. His face had several old burn scars, and he was fully missing his right eyebrow and a good chunk of hair on the right side of his head. Still, he greeted Alden with a cheerful bombast that seemed quite out of place, given the occasion. “There you are! Come in, man! Come in! The name’s Wilhelm Proud, but of course you knew that already. You must be Mr. Stowe!” “I am he.” Alden replied. “I was told that you could get me access to the laboratory where the unfortunate incident took place.” “Indeed! I must say, I was quite taken aback when dear Lucille told me in no uncertain terms that I was to find a way to get you access. But what Lucille wants, Lucille gets!” “I take it you have some personal history with the woman?” “You could say that. You could say that indeed. I owe a great deal to dear Lucille, and great deal more to her continued discretion. But we’re not here to talk ancient history! We’re here to get you into the lab. Now, take off your suit and boots. We need to get you into a hazard suit.” “I beg your pardon?” Wilhelm grinned as he pulled a strange costume out of a case on his desk. It started with a fully covering linen undergarment, and then went on with fully covering boots, trousers, shirt and gloves all made of treated leather. Finally, he pulled out a fully covering leather mask or helmet that had a long elephantine trunk in front of the mouth. Alden couldn’t help but note that the suit was designed such that it could be fastened and bound to create a practically airtight seal over the entire body. “Hazard suit! We use these when investigating spills, leaks or equipment failures involving dangerous materials. The breathing trunk contains a full set of fragrance filters capable of suppressing all but the most stubborn miasmas, and able to filter out a not insignificant number of toxic gasses to boot!” “And you want me to wear this?” “Of course! And be quick about it. I was able to concoct a clever ruse by convincing the constabulary that a leak of dangerous gasses had occurred in one of the adjacent laboratories, and the whole building had to be evacuated until the leak could be located and repaired and the building properly ventilated. But the inspector drives a hard bargain, and I was only able to get him to agree to evacuate until four o’clock. So there’s no time to waste!” Alden somewhat reluctantly disrobed and started struggling into the bulky protective clothing. But before he had even managed to fully fasten the trousers, Wilhelm spoke again. “Hurry, man! We don’t have all day!” Looking over, Alden was shocked to see that the man had somehow been able to pull out another protective suit, disrobe, and then fully don his own suit save for the mask in the time it had taken Alden to get as far as the trousers. Now he was standing there with his mask in the crook of his arm, looking impatient. “You’re coming as well?” Alden asked. “Of course I am, man! We never send anyone into a dangerous area alone, and I can’t exactly send any real technicians along with you.” “I suppose that is a rather fair point. I hope you realize that anything that’s discovered in this investigation is not to be shared around. Word getting out about our discoveries could potentially make my work a lot more difficult.” “Don’t you worry about that, my good fellow! Lucille has already made it extremely clear to me that this whole matter is very cloak and dagger. Mum’s the word!” “Very well, then…” Alden finally finished donning his suit and put on the mask. The interior smelled of leather and grease, combined with the herbal and floral scents of the fragrance filters. It was honestly rather overpowering. Combined with the fact that he was peering out through two little glass panes in front of his eyes, it was something of a claustrophobic experience. Wilhelm quickly looked over his suit to make sure it was properly sealed and fastened, then the two of them left the office, Wilhelm still carrying his mask in the crook of his arm. They got a few odd looks as they passed through the university grounds, but not nearly as many as Alden would have expected. Then again, the students had probably seen people dressed in hazard suits before. Before long, they were standing at the entrance of the material research laboratory. There, standing in front of the doors, was a small group of constables led by a rather thin and severe red-haired man wearing an inspector’s badge. Wilhelm strode up to him confidently. “And here we are, Inspector McMorgan. This here is senior maintenance engineer Hepplewhite. We’ll have this leak taken care of in no time, and then you fellows can go about your merry business.” “I didn’t realize you would be working on this matter personally, Master Proud.” “You wanted this done quick, didn’t you? That means putting my best man on the job, and that man is me! Followed closely by Hepplewhite here, of course!” “Very well. Be quick about it. Her majesty’s law does not appreciate being delayed.” “Of course, of course. We’ll find that nasty little gas leak post-haste!” With that, Wilhelm donned his mask and fastened it properly before striding into the laboratory with confident steps. Alden followed him in, quickly losing track of their route through the massive laboratory complex. The utter lack of peripheral vision certainly wasn’t helping him orient himself. But before long, they had made their way to a large laboratory space. “You can take off your mask, Mr. Stowe.” Wilhelm said, his voice thoroughly muffled by the filter trunk. “There are no outward-facing windows in here. Nobody will see a thing.” Alden nodded and gratefully removed the mask, taking a deep breath of the surprisingly fresh air of the laboratory. Looking through the room without the visual impairment of the mask, he quickly realized the room was full of workstations covered in soot and ash. But despite this, there was barely so much as a hint of smoke smells on the air. But while stains and marks were littered all over the lab, there was only one pile of ashes. A rather neat pile, right in front of one of the work stations. With a small sigh, Alden went up to it. “So this is all that’s left of the late Professor Abney?” “So it is.” Wilhelm replied, once again carrying his mask. “Damn shame, too. He was a brilliant man, in a small, obsessive sort of way.” “Burned real quick, from what I read in the paper. So fast he expired before he could even start to panic.” “Is that unusual?” “Very. But it’s something I’ve seen before.” Alden started sifting through the ashes, and he was not disappointed in his search. “Metal slag. Brass, if I’m any judge.” “That would be his coat buttons. He always wore an impregnated coat to work, and it was fastened with big old brass buttons stamped with the Abney coat of arms.” “I didn’t know Professor Abney was a peer.” “Oh, he wasn’t. The Abneys were excised from the peerage two hundred years ago. He was always a little bitter about it, to be honest. You could tell whenever he spoke to any of the peers on the faculty.” “Hmmm… And these were big, robust buttons?” “Certainly. He cut a rather impressive figure with his black coat and gleaming buttons.” Alden glanced down at the little lumps of slag. “Completely unrecognizable… And what was that coat of his impregnated with?” “Something flame retardant, I would assume. He worked with combustion, after all.” “And yet, the coat has been fully reduced to ash. Not a scrap remains.” Wilhelm frowned thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, that is rather strange.” “Professor Abney burned very fast and extremely hot. Tell me, would you describe the late professor as a man of an unusually sanguine disposition?” “Hah, maybe after a few stiff drinks. But no, he was by and large a melancholy sort, with some mild choleric tendencies when he got riled up. Mostly he was a good man, in a quiet, sad sort of way. And he never got handsy with his students or research assistants, which is more than I can say for several of the gentlemen and one of the ladies on the faculty.” “And he wouldn’t have been drinking at the time of the incident?” “Never! Doing hazardous laboratory work drunk? You could lose your tenure for less!” Alden frowned. “They say twice is a coincidence, but I can already see a clear pattern emerging. And it’s one I’d rather not see continued. Is there a phlogiston detector of some sort in this laboratory?” “Several, as a matter of fact. I’ll show you where they are.” Following Wilhelm, Alden investigated the various phlogiston detectors, but none of them appeared to have been tampered with. Then again, this was a very different sort of place compared to the extremely well-protected laboratory of Doctor Rawleigh. “This place… It must be very well ventilated.” “Of course. A combustion lab with poor ventilation would be a recipe for disaster.” “Where is the air inflow duct?” “Ah, over here, follow me.” Wilhelm led Alden over to one of the far walls. There, up close to the ceiling, was a large metal grille. It was too high up to reach, but looking around the floor beneath it Alden spotted what looked like a few frayed strands of rope fibres. “I need a ladder tall enough to reach that grille.” “Very well, I will fetch one!” As Wilhelm bustled off, Alden looked around the lab some more. There were research notes scattered around the area in a state of significant disarray, though Alden couldn’t tell if Professor Abney had simply been a very messy person or if someone had rifled through his notes recently… Alden frowned as he glanced through one of the sets of notes. These notes had been lying close to one of the soot-encrusted surfaces, and there were sooty finger marks all over them. Moving over to the next set of notes, he found further marks on them. Fainter, but still there. A careful examination revealed successively fainter sooty marks on each pile of notes all the way up to the table nearest the vent. But the notes on the other side of the vent had no such marks. As though someone had been quickly rifling through each pile of notes in a counter-clockwise fashion, starting and ending at the vent, and had gotten soot all over their fingers about two thirds of the way through… “I have the ladder!” Looking over, Alden saw Wilhelm carrying a large metal ladder with apparent ease. The man’s constitution was clearly as robust as his appearance. Feeling ever so slightly inadequate, Alden strained to lean the very heavy ladder up against the wall beneath the vent. Climbing up, he realized that the grille was simply hung up on a set of hooks, and could easily be removed just by lifting it. Peering inside the vent, Alden found it wide and tall enough for a grown man to crawl through, if only just. Just inside the vent he spotted a deep hole in the side of the wall, as if something large had been screwed into the wall itself, and then later removed. He also found a few more frayed rope fibres stuck in little cracks and crevices. With a frown, he crawled through the vent. It branched off several times, but Alden simply followed it back to the outside of the building. Unlike the internal grille, the one on the building exterior was securely screwed in place. But it was screwed in place from the outside, so it would hardly be impossible to remove it from outside and then put it back in place after leaving. Besides, there were a number of dirty scuffmarks around this end of the vent. With a frown, Alden made his way back to the laboratory. “Is this laboratory often left empty?” “Almost never. There are ongoing combustion experiments that require constant monitoring. Well, there were. I’m afraid they’re all quite ruined, now.” “Well, there was clearly somebody up in this vent. I suspect that he lay in wait for Professor Abney to combust and his assistant to run off for help. Then he unhooked the grille and threw down a rope. After climbing down, he very quickly rifled through the research notes in the room, then absconded back up the rope and put the grille back into place.” “My word! Are you certain?” “No, but it’s a strong suspicion. Once the constabulary have finished their investigation, you should ask Professor Abney’s assistant to take a thorough inventory of these notes, see if anything has been taken.” “Very well. Have you concluded your own investigation, then?” “I suppose I have. Let’s get going.” The two men went through the necessary theatrics to uphold the ruse that there had been a gas leak, but Alden was thoroughly lost in thought. This was another murder, he was sure of it. And while the sequence of events wasn’t exactly identical to the murder of Doctor Rawleigh, they were similar enough that it couldn’t be a coincidence. This felt very much like the beginning of a pattern, and Alden couldn’t help but wonder who would be next.