The Mesmerist (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 3) Page 2

  Admittedly, there had been a time Xavier envied the man, but that ended when Vic came into his life. His impertinent pup was worth far more than Archie’s banking fortune and power. Nor would he risk mucking up their delightful relationship when her request to assist in Xavier’s tasks for the government was a reasonable one. If the tables were turned, he would certainly demand to be included.

  However, he knew Archie would fight him on this, which meant he would have to stand firm on the next assignment.

  As they arrived at Buckingham Palace, Xavier admired the giant artificial lake fed by the Serpentine River. However, he thought the three-story, rectangular sprawl of the palace an uninspired architectural design similar, but less attractive than Bedlam. He much preferred the fanciful spires of the rebuilt Westminster Palace where the Parliament sat.

  Once they exited the carriage and entered the main entrance, two royal guards marched them down the gaudy wide hall, straight to the Queen’s breakfast room.

  “Her Majesty will be with you in a moment. Please remain standing and facing the doors,” the butler advised and left.

  Xavier ignored him and wandered about the room. Three walls were black with giant gold filigree patterns and the exterior wall had heavy crimson velvet drapes covering eight-foot windows.

  He pitied the Queen. Not only were the colors dark and hellish, but the ceiling had to be nearly twenty-four feet high. The poor woman had to feel very small and depressed when she ate her breakfast in here.

  Just then, the door opened, and Xavier turned to face the small, heavy-set woman in black mourning clothes. He, along with the earl, bowed deeply at the waist.

  Queen Victoria first acknowledged the First Minister, but only smiled when her focus turned to Xavier.

  “Finally, I am to meet Sherlock Holmes.”

  Xavier’s jaw locked, preventing him from correcting the woman. Damn Doyle and his fictional character!

  “Xavier Thorn,” the earl said.

  The Queen ignored her First Minister and remained focused on Xavier. “I am pleased you have indulged me with this early morning breakfast. I wished to give you a more formal reception, but I was told it was inadvisable, although why, I cannot imagine.”

  The earl’s owlish eyes fluttered in agitation, but he made no other response.

  The Queen took her seat at the head of the table, nearest the fireplace and invited the men to select their breakfasts. One of the many servants now entering the room brought her plate to her.

  Once they joined her, the earl to her right, Xavier to her left, she spoke. “While the earl insists I cannot recognize you publicly, I did want to commend you privately on saving all those young people from a life of horror and shame.”

  For a moment, Xavier had no idea what she was talking about, but then he realized her error. “I fear you have called the wrong person to court then, ma’am. It is my partner, Victor Hamilton, who deserves the credit for rescuing the hundred servants. I was at death’s door at the time, requiring rescue myself. And due to Your Majesty’s willingness to send troops in to search for the lost servants, Victor gained clues needed to discover my whereabouts before I died from an infected bullet wound.” He then smiled. “So I should thank you for helping Victor save my life.”

  The Queen’s eyes rounded at his words. “Well, that is most delightful.” She then glared at the earl. “Why did you not tell me I saved Sherlock Holmes?”

  The earl ceased to eat and met her glare. “I was unaware of the connection.”

  With a huff of dissatisfaction, she returned to Xavier. “Tell me exactly how I assisted in saving you?”

  Xavier ran through the clues left in Dragons Cloud and how Vic had used them to find him in a tenement building nearby.

  The Queen then repeated the story to the earl as a statement of fact, leaving no doubt he should have known it before.

  Xavier had seen Archie burst into a temper for much less, but he held his tongue admirably. When she finished her lecture, Archie turned to Xavier and held up his glass of water in a toast. “You’ve trained the fellow most impressively.”

  “He’s been exceptionally easy to train. He comes to the trade with natural ability.”

  “Tell me about this young man,” the Queen demanded.

  “He’s twenty-three years old, educated at Oxford—”

  The Queen glanced at the earl. “Oh, that’s much better than Eaton.”

  Xavier suspected she meant that as a jab, but Archie had attended both Eaton and Oxford.

  “What is his name?” she asked. “Perhaps I know his parents.”

  “Victor Hamilton. His parents died in a shipwreck as they traveled from their home in America to England. Madeline Hamilton took in the two children.”

  The Queen frowned. “Hamilton…where have I heard that name?”

  Archie stabbed a sausage with excessive energy. “She was a leader in the New Woman movement, demanding changes in estates laws and the right for women to vote.”

  The Queen pressed her hand to her heart. “Oh dear!” She then looked at Xavier. “But the boy turned out all right, did he not?”

  How shocked the Queen would be if she knew the truth. “He’s a very fine young man who has dedicated his life to helping others.”

  “Perhaps I should have a talk with this Madeline Hamilton—convince her to disown the suffragette movement.”

  “She was murdered one year and six months ago, while stopping a spy from revealing government secrets.”

  Archie glared at him. “Inadvertently stopping the spy. She happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

  “And died for it,” Xavier stated with quiet intensity. “Thus, to my thinking, she gave her life for her country.”

  The Queen’s hand fluttered nervously. “Yes, well, enough talk of dying. So tell me: is this young man similar to Dr. Watson?”

  Xavier chuckled. “No, Your Majesty. He is nothing like Dr. Watson.” During this nonsensical conversation, Xavier watched the servants coming and going from the room.

  While most people of society ignored those who serve them entirely, Xavier assessed each person who entered the room regardless of their status. Since he had begun this tedious breakfast, nearly twenty different servants had come and gone.

  Another new servant entered the room; this one had an odd glaze to his eyes, and a partially opened mouth.

  The man walked across the room in an unusually slow and measured pace‒unusual for a servant. He placed his tray on the serving board and removed the white cloth covering the tray. Finally able to see the item he carried, Xavier leapt to his feet.

  “Can I warm your tea, sir?” the servant asked as he picked up a gun from his tray and aimed it at the First Minister.

  Chapter 2

  Xavier grabbed the servant’s arm at the wrist and forced the gun upward to the ceiling. A deafening explosion vibrated through the room while both he and the servant crashed to the floor. Chaos broke out as the room filled with anxious royal guards determined to protect the Queen.

  Once Her Majesty was whisked to safety, Archie took charge of the situation. The black and oppressing breakfast room now contained only three men: the earl, Xavier, and the servant who had almost killed the First Minister.

  Interrogation proved fruitless. The confused and frightened servant had no memory of shooting anyone. He had only wanted to fill the earl’s teacup.

  True fear shone in the befuddled man’s eyes and trembled in his voice, but Xavier could not perceive a speck of guilt. Ten minutes later, Inspector Stone of Scotland Yard arrived and questioned the man further, but with no better results.

  “We’ll get nothing from him,” Stone advised Archie.

  The First Minister stood and brushed imaginary dust from his sleeve. “Lock him up all the same. And let us reconvene in my office.”

  ***

  The moment they closed the door to the First Minister’s office, all three spoke in unison.

  “The Mesmerist.”


  Xavier felt a migraine coming on. He had been unsuccessfully searching for this unknown villain for the last year. The fellow had proven to be impossibly elusive and decidedly lethal.

  The earl took his seat behind his massive desk. “Xavier, I know you are still recovering, but if that bastard has me in his sights, I need you on this.” A taint of fear resonated in Archie’s voice.

  Xavier was just about to accept the case when he remembered Vic’s threat to follow him about if not included.

  “I agree, but you need more than me. You require my entire staff.”

  “No.”

  “Then I must regretfully decline.”

  Archie was on his feet in seconds. “What?”

  Even Stone stared at him in shock.

  “I’m sorry, Archie, but my slight wrangle with a servant has reminded me how weak I presently am. If I could not catch the Mesmerist before, I have no chance now…not alone.”

  “But you are the best we have!”

  “Thank you, but, I can offer better.”

  “Who?”

  “The joint effort of me and my partner. I will require the help of the rest of my staff, but they will obey my orders without understanding the whys and wherefores. However, I need to bring Vic fully into the matter.”

  “Absolutely not!” Archie barked.

  “May I ask why?”

  “The boy will only get himself killed.”

  “Victor is not a boy; he’s a well-skilled investigator, and I will not do this job without him.”

  Xavier glanced at Stone, hoping he’d put a word in for Vic, as well.

  Archie focused on Stone. “Have you met this boy?”

  “Yes, on many occasions. Victor Hamilton has a gift for investigating. He can pull the truth from little more than air at times. I am sorry to say, he is exactly what we need on this case.”

  “Then why are you sorry?” the earl asked.

  “Because this case will likely get him killed.” He focused on Xavier’s and his disappointment was clear to read.

  Xavier leaned forward. “Stone, you know I would never allow Victor to come to harm. That is why I will not take this assignment unless he is brought fully in and I’m allowed to make use of the rest of my staff.”

  Stone’s frown deepened. “Including Sonny Tubs?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Sonny Tubs! Hell, even I’ve heard of that murderer.” Archie’s brow furrowed as comprehension took hold. “He’s on your staff? Since when?” His voice left no doubt of his outrage over the matter.

  “Since I almost died while pursuing the Mesmerist. Vic hired him away from Seth Sojourn with a promise of more interesting work and a nicer employer.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Archie threw his hands up in agitation and then began his all too common pacing between the fireplace and his desk, as the well-worn swatch of carpet bore witness.

  “Well, it’s a relief to know you won’t try to steal him from my service, because I find Tubs extraordinarily useful.”

  “For what? Have you taken up murdering people?”

  “His main responsibility is to protect Vic from harm as the pup goes sniffing about for clues and inevitably finds trouble. So far he hasn’t killed anyone, but if we take this case that may change.” Xavier glanced at Stone. “If that happens, I expect him to receive full immunity.”

  Stone made no reply.

  “You want me to give a murderer a blank check to kill?” Archie snapped.

  “Alleged murderer. He’s never been charged with a single crime in his life.”

  The First Minister frowned and looked at Stone. “Is that true?”

  Stone rubbed his neck as if the fact gave him great pain. “Witnesses refuse to testify against him, and he’s careful to leave no evidence tying him to his crimes.”

  Xavier felt his answer most misleading. “Have you ever suspected him of killing someone who wasn’t scum of the earth?”

  “No. To the best of my knowledge, Sonny Tubs has never killed an innocent. In most cases, he was outnumbered and could have claimed self-defense had he stayed around to be caught.”

  “How many men has he killed?” Archie demanded.

  “Well, he killed fourteen during one fight, and six during another. So let’s say anywhere between twenty and a hundred.”

  “A hundred?” He turned to Xavier. “You want me to give the murderer of a hundred people immunity?”

  Xavier shook his head at Archie’s denseness. The man focused on political ramifications rather than the life and death issues. “He doesn’t need immunity for those murders. If Stone had a bit of evidence, he’d already be jailed for them.”

  “Not that a jail would hold him,” Stone murmured.

  Xavier ignored the observation, however correct it might be, and remained focused on his point. “He only needs immunity for any deaths that might occur while we are trying to capture the Mesmerist—preferably before another mesmerized puppet kills you.” His gaze met the earl’s glare. “Until we find him, anyone you meet could be an assassin, even your own flesh and blood.”

  The stubborn man refused to reply.

  With a heavy sigh, Xavier rose from his chair. “I have paying work to do. If you want me on the assignment, you know my conditions: Vic as a full partner and all my staff receives immunity for crimes committed in the line of duty.”

  When he reached the door without being stopped, he lost all respect for the First Minister. Archie used to be smarter than this.

  Once outside, he cursed the man for dragging him out so early in the morning. His carriage sat useless at his office, and not a cabbie would be found at this ungodly hour.

  Overdressed and out of sorts, he stormed down the street. Two blocks into his miserable walk, an unpresuming but well-maintained black carriage pulled to the side of the street a half block in front of him. It tilted heavily to the left.

  What the hell?

  As he came closer, he could clearly see Davy and the horse was unquestionably Marybell. Yet, his driver gave no indication he waited to pick him up. Now thoroughly confused, he approached. “Davy, what are you doing here?”

  Davy shrugged. “Not sure, exactly. Better ask Vic.” He nodded to the carriage.

  With a much improved mood, Xavier opened the door and climbed into the no-frills compartment, occupied by Mr. Tubs on the left and Vic on the right.

  He sat close to Vic to partially balance out the carriage’s weight. “While I am glad to be saved a long walk, dressed like a peacock‒what are you doing here?”

  Vic shrugged. “Waiting to see if you wished a ride.” Her mouth stretched wide as a giant yawn overtook her. “May we go home? Davy is very tired.”

  Xavier leaned over her and called out the window. “Home, Davy.”

  He then resettled, even closer to her side. “You followed me.”

  She breathed out in a huff and crossed her arms. “You left me no choice.”

  He could tell by the tension in her long, lithe body, she expected him to yell. What he wanted to do was kiss her, but decided against it with Tubs watching. Although to be honest, Tubs had to suspect they were lovers, since they shared the same bed.

  What the hell…

  He lowered his lips to hers. Her eyes popped open and she gently pushed him back an inch. “Tubs, keep a lookout.”

  “Yes, sir,” the giant fellow replied and stared out his window.

  Xavier barely had a chance to chuckle before she pulled him to her, kissing him with hungry, possessive ferocity.

  He answered her intensity with his own, and by the time they returned home, both were ready for another hour ‘of rest’ before their client was scheduled to arrive.

  ***

  Once satiated from their lovemaking, Vic raised the topic heavy on her heart. “Xavier, did you see the Queen?”

  “In fact I did. She wanted to thank me for my efforts to save the servants forced into sex slavery.”

  Vic bolted upright in outr
age. “You?”

  “And I told her, ‘Your Majesty, you have the wrong man. It was my clever partner, Victor Hamilton, who saved the servants.’”

  Vic eyed him carefully as she tried to determine if he was teasing or not. “And what did she say?”

  “She wanted to know if you were the spitting image of Dr. Watson.”

  Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she resettled on his chest. “I hope you told her no.”

  “I did, and then went on to brag profusely about you.”

  “What exactly did you say?”

  “And have your head swell larger than it already is? Not a chance, scamp.”

  “Maybe next time I can go with you.”

  “I doubt I’ll be invited again.”

  “Did something happen? I saw Stone arrive, and later his men took away a servant in handcuffs.”

  His right eyebrow rose an inch. “How do you know he was a servant?”

  “He kept saying, ‘I only wanted to refill his tea.’ What happened, did you move the cup?”

  “No. And I can say no more about it.”

  His words hurt more than she thought possible. She tried to roll away from him, but he held her tight against his chest.

  “Let me go,” she growled.

  “I did not take the assignment.” He spoke softly, but she could hear an undercurrent of outrage. “I cannot talk about the case, but I made my conditions very clear. Either you were brought fully in and I would have full use of my staff, or I would not take the job.”

  “And he said no?”

  Xavier paused. “I was able to persuade him to accept you, but he dug his heels in on Tubs.”

  “But Tubs is a valuable asset!” Now she understood why Xavier sounded so angry. The First Minister was an idiot! Who would not want Tubs on their side? He knew everything about the criminal world. He could tip a carriage with one arm. He could bend thick metal bars without breaking a sweat, and despite his massive weight, could keep up with her in a dead-out run. However, she refrained from stating these attributes, because Xavier didn’t know the details about some of their activities while he’d been recovering from his injury and opium addiction.