Twincy Quinn and the Eye of Horus Part One by Odette C. Bell Page B

device,
and carrying her off in a sack—I had to suspend all disbelief. The
past several months in this city had taught me that lesson. New
devices. Technology. The wonders of the modern age. Though they
were mostly the creations and brain children of the enigmatic and
eccentric Doctor Elliot Esquire, other scientists and boffins were
also developing new and incredibly powerful devices. Though the
town, in fact the country, and possibly the world, were busy
singing the praises of this new power, it had not taken long for
its effect to filter into the criminal world. My job was becoming
so much harder. The world I had known was changing, far too rapidly
for me to keep up, and far, far too rapidly for a cumbersome police
service to deal with.
    ‘ Then . . . ,’ Jennifer finally let her
gaze unstick from the couch, and she settled it on me, and in that
moment I swear she composed herself. For a child, she suddenly
swallowed all the fear I had seen crippling her form, and she set
her keen gaze my way, ‘a woman came and saved me. She fought off
the black and white shapes. She stole their carriage, and she took
me home.’
    I faltered.
And the father gave a strange, loud huffing sound. ‘Jennifer, you
are confused,’ he shook his head as he spoke.
    Though I
should have pleaded with him to keep his silence, I couldn't.
Instead I found my eyes narrowing instinctively.
    Though I knew
I had to keep an open mind, considering the rapid rate of change
and the new technology I was dealing
with . . . Jennifer’s story sounded too
fantastic.
    Perhaps she saw that neither of us were convinced, because now
she shook her own head, her tousled hair bouncing over her
shoulder. ‘She saved me,’ she repeated, her voice resonating on the
word she .
    ‘ Detective, I say that this can assuredly wait, my child is
clearly confused. She has been through a terrible ordeal,’ the
father now took a solid step forward, clamping one of his hands
protectively on Jennifer’s shoulder. He also fixed me with the kind
of look that told me in no uncertain terms that he was no longer
going to accommodate my wishes.
    Tearing my
eyes off Jennifer, I swallowed as I gave a low and respectful nod.
‘I understand,’ taking my watch out and checking it quickly, I
nodded once more to the father, glanced at Jennifer, and turned
sharply on the heel of my shoe. I made it through the door, through
the corridor, and out of the house, hardly taking a breath. Then I
stopped, one foot resting up on the bottom step that led down to
the street below. Bringing my hand forward, I planted it on my
knee, and I tipped my head back, gazing at the roofs across the
street.
    I had seen
something, hadn't I? It had been no trick of the light, and neither
had it been an artefact of an addled brain.
    Bringing a
hand up and distractedly scratching at my chin, I took the final
step down, all the time angling my head up, and staring at the
rooftop.
    A woman
fighting off strange shapes, stealing a carriage, and returning a
child? It was, obviously, fantastic. Perhaps the father was right,
and Jennifer was far too affected by her ordeal to be able to
rationally and clearly recount what had occurred to her. Still, as
I took several steps along the street, always staring at the
rooftops beyond, I couldn't deny the tight feeling that gripped at
my gut. A feeling halfway between nerves and expectation, I quickly
ran a hand through my hair.
    All too soon I
took leave of the house, and clambering up onto the roofs above. It
was not easy. First I had to gain permission of the owners of the
building on the opposite side of the street, which turned out to
house several offices. Claiming my rights as a member of Scotland
Yard, I managed to find a maintenance ladder that led from one of
the top windows up onto the roof. Huffing and puffing, and
realising I was certainly not as fit as I had been when I had been
in the army, nonetheless soon I found myself gripping onto the side
of the