beyond the snow-white edge of her coif.
“The hand has not been fractured,” announced the radiography technician. His voice came hollowly from the tiny dark room without which Ludbridge sat with Bell-Fairfax, who had thrust his arm through an aperture in the wall into a box mounted on the other side. Beyond a thick pane of glass they beheld the technician, armored in long coat quilted with lead and a goggled helmet, and a lit image on the opposite wall: an immense dark skeletal hand, rendered somewhat less fearsome by the commonplace detail of a shirt button on the wrist.
“Are you certain?” Ludbridge was incredulous. “He smashed his hand into steel.”
“Quite certain,” said the technician, gesturing at the image. “Bruising,yes, and minor abrasions, but no fractures. Observe the abnormally dense structure of the bones.” Edward, who had been smirking rather, looked up.
“What d’you mean by
abnormal
?” he demanded. The hand in the image clenched into a skeletal fist.
“Precisely what I said,” said the technician. He turned his head to regard them, with the skeletal image reflected in his goggled optics. “Note, further, the superior attachment of the lumbrical musculature. I should very much like an opportunity to study your skeleton, young man.”
“I regret, sir, that I am unable to oblige you at this time,” said Edward, narrowing his eyes.
“Clean bill of health, then, Deane?” Ludbridge got to his feet. “Thank you. Come along, Bell-Fairfax. We’ll just have the sister apply an ointment to those knuckles, shall we? And then, I think, upstairs for a brandy.”
He watched Bell-Fairfax as they rode up together in the ascending room, and thought:
He knows he differs from other men, and he doesn’t like it—not for all his arrogance. Could be useful, I suppose.
1849: Scherzo in D Minor
“I believe you’re ready for a challenge, gentlemen,” said Ludbridge. Bell-Fairfax, who had been pounding away at a leather punching bag, lowered his fists; Hobson and Pengrove stood back and removed their fencing masks.
“What sort of challenge?” Pengrove inquired. In reply, Ludbridge went to the vaulting-horse and, using it as an impromptu table, unrolled a map. They came crowding close to look over his shoulder.
“Simply to walk a short distance along the Strand,” said Ludbridge, indicating it on the map. “Without being caught.”
“Ah.”
“What’s the trick, Ludbridge?” asked Hobson.
“You tell me,” said Ludbridge. “Or, rather, don’t. You’ll proceed from Trafalgar Square to Bedford Street along the Strand. There will be five spotters along the route, dressed as policemen, and they will have been furnished with detailed descriptions of the three of you. Any one of them sighting any one of you will collar you forthwith, raising a considerable hue and cry. You will be dragged away in public disgrace.
“Should one of you manage to reach Bedford Street unobserved, you will have my congratulations and the satisfaction of a job well done. Should
all three
of you accomplish this feat, you will be rewarded with an outing to Nell Gwynne’s.”
“I beg your pardon?” said Edward. Hobson chortled.
“An exclusive establishment,” he said. “The finest in all England.”
“Somewhat more than that,” said Ludbridge. “It might be called Redking’s sister society. Though of course it does provide comforts and refreshment for the deserving.”
“Oh, I say!” cried Pengrove. Bell-Fairfax’s eyes brightened.
“Are there any conditions?” he asked. Ludbridge nodded.
“You are required to traverse the Strand. You may not cut across to Chandos Place to reach the goal. You may not simply take a cab or other conveyance. On the other hand, Fabrication has been instructed to provide you with any assistance or materials you request of them. You have a week to prepare; the challenge must be met on the fifteenth. Good luck, gentlemen.”
On the fifteenth, Ludbridge
“The hand has not been fractured,” announced the radiography technician. His voice came hollowly from the tiny dark room without which Ludbridge sat with Bell-Fairfax, who had thrust his arm through an aperture in the wall into a box mounted on the other side. Beyond a thick pane of glass they beheld the technician, armored in long coat quilted with lead and a goggled helmet, and a lit image on the opposite wall: an immense dark skeletal hand, rendered somewhat less fearsome by the commonplace detail of a shirt button on the wrist.
“Are you certain?” Ludbridge was incredulous. “He smashed his hand into steel.”
“Quite certain,” said the technician, gesturing at the image. “Bruising,yes, and minor abrasions, but no fractures. Observe the abnormally dense structure of the bones.” Edward, who had been smirking rather, looked up.
“What d’you mean by
abnormal
?” he demanded. The hand in the image clenched into a skeletal fist.
“Precisely what I said,” said the technician. He turned his head to regard them, with the skeletal image reflected in his goggled optics. “Note, further, the superior attachment of the lumbrical musculature. I should very much like an opportunity to study your skeleton, young man.”
“I regret, sir, that I am unable to oblige you at this time,” said Edward, narrowing his eyes.
“Clean bill of health, then, Deane?” Ludbridge got to his feet. “Thank you. Come along, Bell-Fairfax. We’ll just have the sister apply an ointment to those knuckles, shall we? And then, I think, upstairs for a brandy.”
He watched Bell-Fairfax as they rode up together in the ascending room, and thought:
He knows he differs from other men, and he doesn’t like it—not for all his arrogance. Could be useful, I suppose.
1849: Scherzo in D Minor
“I believe you’re ready for a challenge, gentlemen,” said Ludbridge. Bell-Fairfax, who had been pounding away at a leather punching bag, lowered his fists; Hobson and Pengrove stood back and removed their fencing masks.
“What sort of challenge?” Pengrove inquired. In reply, Ludbridge went to the vaulting-horse and, using it as an impromptu table, unrolled a map. They came crowding close to look over his shoulder.
“Simply to walk a short distance along the Strand,” said Ludbridge, indicating it on the map. “Without being caught.”
“Ah.”
“What’s the trick, Ludbridge?” asked Hobson.
“You tell me,” said Ludbridge. “Or, rather, don’t. You’ll proceed from Trafalgar Square to Bedford Street along the Strand. There will be five spotters along the route, dressed as policemen, and they will have been furnished with detailed descriptions of the three of you. Any one of them sighting any one of you will collar you forthwith, raising a considerable hue and cry. You will be dragged away in public disgrace.
“Should one of you manage to reach Bedford Street unobserved, you will have my congratulations and the satisfaction of a job well done. Should
all three
of you accomplish this feat, you will be rewarded with an outing to Nell Gwynne’s.”
“I beg your pardon?” said Edward. Hobson chortled.
“An exclusive establishment,” he said. “The finest in all England.”
“Somewhat more than that,” said Ludbridge. “It might be called Redking’s sister society. Though of course it does provide comforts and refreshment for the deserving.”
“Oh, I say!” cried Pengrove. Bell-Fairfax’s eyes brightened.
“Are there any conditions?” he asked. Ludbridge nodded.
“You are required to traverse the Strand. You may not cut across to Chandos Place to reach the goal. You may not simply take a cab or other conveyance. On the other hand, Fabrication has been instructed to provide you with any assistance or materials you request of them. You have a week to prepare; the challenge must be met on the fifteenth. Good luck, gentlemen.”
On the fifteenth, Ludbridge
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