Power

Case Montgomery, Viscount of Lockwood and the future Earl of Lockwood looked out upon a room filled with an astonishing number of aristocrats. He wished he could say it surprised him, but if there was one thing he had learned over the last couple years it was that people believed what they wanted, despite what logic and common sense told them.

This current gathering, the largest by far, was an exposition by the current darling of the spiritualist practitioners. He adjusted his rose tinted glasses and scanned the stage. Egyptmania was still alive and well and this particular practitioner definitely understood the idea of pandering to their audience. Considering his sister and brother in law had spent a large portion of the last five years on expeditions in Egypt, he could easily pick out the fraudulent artifacts that littered the stage.

He had read enough about the woman’s act to know what to expect. Madam Solange would channel a supposed dead Egyptian deity called ‘Apep’ and give chosen members of the audience some tidbit of information. He’d have to remember to ask Owen when he and Kate returned in a couple of weeks if this was an actual Egyptian deity or if they had just made it up.

He knew how the scam worked, he just hadn’t identified all of the players. Which, was why he was here tonight. Moving away from the balcony’s edge, he made his way into the wings and down a flight of stairs. Quietly pushing open the door, he looked around before moving into the hallway. He had studied the plans for this theater and knew it would take him to one of the wings adjoining the stage. Walking into unlit area he looked around. There wasn’t enough light streaming from the stage where Madam Solange had begun her performance. Wincing internally he slid the glasses off and skimmed his eyes around the area. The hues surrounding his quarry jumped out immediately and he jammed the glasses back on. The red lenses counteracted the colors for the most part but it didn’t stop the headache he knew would hit him within the hour.

Walking towards his prey he studied the man when he he came into view. He wasn’t sure how he was communicating with Solange but then he saw the device in his hands. He could tell it was emitting a light of some kind but he couldn’t tell what color it was with the glasses on. He’d deal with the device later. His eyes followed the direction it was pointing and instantly knew how they were accomplishing it. The man was flashing the light on the stage in front of Solange where only she could see. Case assumed the man had assembled information on people likely to attend and then, using code, he fed Solange information based on who was there. It really wasn’t unlike most of the other scams. Usually the supposed practitioner or their associate was pretty good at discovering secrets. Then, they exploited them.

He cleared his throat. “Apep, I presume?” Case smirked when the man jerked in surprise, causing the light to bounce erratically. He heard Solange’s voice falter on stage. “It’s a shame she gets all of the limelight. Why don’t you join.” He tilted his head towards the stage. “It wasn’t a suggestion.” He waited long enough for the man to step onto stage before he turned on his heel and left. He smiled to himself when he heard the eruption from the audience.

”Enjoying yourself?” Nate Barton slid into a seat across from Case. This particular pub had taken the place of the clubs their fathers had once frequented. Nate was fairly confident in saying that neither his own father nor Case’s father ever truly enjoyed the clubs and once both of them were married they both tended to want to spend all their time at home. He signaled to the bar maid for a glass and settled back in his chair.

“I’m enjoying myself immensely.” Case took a sip of whiskey and looked over the rim at Nate.

A glass deposited in front of him, Nate grabbed the bottle and poured himself a liberal amount. Taking a large swallow, he put the glass down and topped it off. “You’ve managed to embarrass half of London.”

“Good. They’re idiots for believing that Solange can talk to a dead Egyptian deity. I mean…aren’t Egyptian deities supposed to be immortal? Why is he dead? The entire thing was utter nonsense.” Case took a sip of his whiskey.

Nate shook his head. He had been dealing with this side of his friend for almost five years. The logical, cynical side of Case had always been there but the accident in the lab had managed to amplify it. “Who’s your next target?”

Case shrugged. “I haven’t identified anyone new. It’ll be interesting to see the fallout from Solange’s exposure as a fraud.” He took another sip. “Mum said that Will and Jenny’s baby is due any day.”

“We’ll give them a couple weeks to adjust before we try to visit.” Nate studied Case a moment. They were both approaching thirty this year and neither one of them was married much to their parents annoyance. Case had it a little worse than he did considering he’d eventually become Earl. The pressure wasn’t quite as bad for them as it was for his parents to produce an heir but it was there nonetheless. He knew his own long hours prevented him from getting into a serious relationship but Case’s issues ran much deeper.

They both turned to look at the door when the bell chimed over it. They waived at an acquaintance. Nate nodded at one of the constables leaning against the bar. “Did you hear about the arsenic poisonings in Burnham?”

Case frowned and stopped watching the people milling about the pub and turned to look at Nate. “I read something in the papers. The article in the Times was a little more subdued than the one in the Globe. The Examiner made it sound like a conspiracy between secret societies.” Case cringed internally. He knew they existed, he just preferred not to think about it.

Nate shook his head. “That wasn’t what I was referring to…it wasn’t the constables or the Yard that found the killer. It was a psychic.”

Case paused with his drink halfway to his mouth. “Who told you that?”

“Jenkins’s nephew.” Nate eyed his friend. He knew what Case was looking for and had yet to find. He wasn’t sure Case even remembered the conversation considering how intoxicated he was at the time. “Her name is Phoebe Blackwell.”