Forty-Eight
He had assessed the situation before he made the descent into the chamber. Victor was the first and most immediate threat, Joshua concluded.
He landed hard near one of the workbenches, as planned. He took much of his weight on his good leg and grabbed the edge of the bench to support the rest.
He released the end of the rope ladder that Nelson was paying out from the roof. He had only a split second to catch his balance. In that instant he saw that Victor stood frozen in anguished disbelief. It was, Joshua knew, the only chance he would get.
Victor recovered in the next instant. He reached inside his coat.
Joshua braced himself against the edge of the workbench and swept the cane out in a slashing arc. The heavy length of steel and wood caught Victor on his forearm. Bone cracked. The gun he had just pulled out fell from his hand. He crumpled to his knees.
Nelson shouted from the edge of the dome, “Josh, he’s got her.”
Joshua turned, using the workbench to keep his balance. He saw that Clement had seized Beatrice. He had one arm wrapped around her neck. He held a scalpel to her throat.
“I see you have not lost your skills while you have been rusticating in the countryside,” Clement said. “But I’d advise you to tell your companion up there to stay where he is or I will slit Miss Lockwood’s throat.”
Joshua looked at Beatrice. Her arms were at her sides. She appeared calm—unnaturally so. No one could remain so composed when a madman had a scalpel at one’s throat. Beatrice really was an excellent actress.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she said, her voice remarkably steady.
She made a small movement with one hand. Her fingers appeared from between the heavy folds of her gown. He glimpsed the sheen of a metal scalpel. She was letting him know that she, too, was armed.
All that they needed was a distraction, Joshua thought.
He looked at the sarcophagus. The fluid continued to froth and churn. He saw that Emma appeared almost alive. Her hair swirled around her face. Her arms undulated gently.
“I would never have believed it,” he said. “But I see you have been successful. Her eyes are open. You had better get her out of that fluid before she takes a breath and drowns.”
“Emma,” Clement whispered. He started to haul Beatrice toward the coffin. His attention was on the dead woman. “Get her out of the Water, damn you, Gage.”
“Only if you release Beatrice.”
“I’ll kill her if you don’t get Emma out of the Water, I swear I will.”
“It seems that we each hold a hostage,” Joshua said. “I suggest that we exchange them.”
“If I release Miss Lockwood, you will kill me.”
“No,” Joshua said. “I will not kill you tonight. If you keep your side of the bargain, I will keep mine. Beatrice and I will leave the same way I arrived, through the dome. You may remain here with your beloved. You know that I have always been a man of my word.”
Victor said nothing. He remained on his knees, clutching his broken arm. He gazed in despair at the body of his daughter. Joshua knew that Victor was finally acknowledging the truth. Emma was dead.
Clement’s face contorted with anguish and indecision. He gave Beatrice a violent shove that sent her stumbling away from him.
He rushed to the sarcophagus and reached into the frothing liquid to seize the body.
Joshua caught Beatrice. “You will go up the rope ladder first.”
She dropped the small scalpel, hitched up her skirts and started climbing.
He followed her up the ladder using his gloved hands to secure his grip. He could put enough weight on his bad leg to make the ascent possible but it was not easy.
When they reached the roof, Nelson helped steady Beatrice at the edge of the dome.
“Are you all right, Miss Lockwood?” he asked.
“I am now, thanks to you and Mr. Gage,” she said. “I assume we use the same rope ladder to get down from this roof?”
“Luckily that will not be necessary,” Nelson said, reeling in the ladder. “Uncle Joshua found an old stairwell in one of the towers.”
“Clement Lancing said that the stairs and hallway that lead to the laboratory were set with traps,” Beatrice said.
“I assumed as much,” Joshua said. “That is why we came in through the roof. No one ever expects an opponent to approach from above.”
“Another Mr. Smith saying?” Beatrice asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Joshua said. “He forgot one of his own rules. But then, everyone has a blind side. Let’s get away from here. Inspector Morgan will be waiting to make his arrests.”
“But the gas,” Beatrice said. “How will the police enter the laboratory?”
“The same way we did, if necessary, but I don’t think that will be the case. Victor will let them in. He knows that this is finished.”
The screaming started then. Clement Lancing’s roar of rage and madness echoed in the night. It was cut short by a single gunshot.
Joshua looked down. Victor was standing over Lancing’s body, the gun in his hand. He looked up at Joshua.
“You were always my best agent,” Victor said.