Ripper by Stefan Petrucha Read Free Book Online Page B

hadn’t agreed on that!” he said.
    “No, I’m not in charge,” Hawking said. “He is. That’s Septimus Tudd.”

12
    HAWKING prepared to rise. “I didn’t ask if I could use the loo, either, Septimus. If he’s to be my apprentice, he’ll need to get in, won’t he?”
    “I beg you, Albert, no more surprises,” Tudd responded.
    Hawking offered an even smile. “I’ll try, but I won’t make any promises.”
    The two younger men tried to hide their chuckles. “Welcome back, Mr. Hawking,” the slighter one said, beaming. “It’s been too long.”
    Hawking put his cane to the floor. “Not long enough, Emeril and… hmmm… Jackson, isn’t it?”
    The two nodded appreciatively.
    Carver moved to help Hawking, but the old detective nudged him off. At the door, the round Tudd hooked a big hand through Hawking’s arm. He pulled him close and whispered, just loud enough for Carver to hear.
    “Please don’t demean me in front of the agents. It’s difficult enough when I can’t pay their salaries.”
    Hawking gave a noncommittal shrug. As they stepped onto the tile-and-brick platform, Tudd made a show of leading the way, but Hawking clearly knew where they were headed. As they walked, everyone’s eyes were on them. Carver thought they might be looking at him, a stranger, but realized they were much more interested in Hawking.
    After a lifetime of being bullied, Carver could only imagine how it must feel to be so respected. Hawking only grimaced and quickened his lopsided stride, as if their admiration were an ordeal.
    They entered an open hall that ended in a set of wide mahogany doors. Two plaques hung to the side. The first read
Office of the Director,
the second,
Septimus Tudd.
A faded rectangle along the edges of Tudd’s name meant his predecessor had warranted a bigger plaque. Hawking?
    Emeril and Jackson opened the doors but remained outside. Tudd, Hawking and Carver entered a large, wildly cluttered office. It held an enormous desk and three long oak meeting tables stacked with files, photographs and newspaper clippings. The dark-paneled walls were papered with maps marking streets, ferry lines and railroads.
    The only decoration Carver noticed was an odd oval mirror. It looked broken, everything reflected in it distorted, as if it were from a house of mirrors. Carver snickered to remember how jealous he’d been when Delia had gotten to see one at Coney Island, having gone along to help watch the younger children.
    He couldn’t wait to tell her he’d visited a secret detective facility. But he couldn’t tell her, could he? That was the point of it being secret, why it had such a strange and wonderful lock.
    He also realized something else.
    “Mr. Tudd?” Carver said, speaking for the first time. “Can I ask how you knew Mr. Hawking gave me the combination?”
    The hefty man turned to him with a twinkle in his eye. “Because I saw him.” He pointed to the mirror. “It’s something our research department came up with. Go on, take a look. It’s not as if I get to show off the operation often.”
    Carver stepped up. The periphery of the glass remained blurry, but in the center he could see the side of Devlin’s, the elevator door, the brass tubes rising from the concrete, even the bottom half of a hansom cab and horse clicking along down Broadway.
    “How… ?”
    Tudd indicated a silvery tube rising from the back of the glass. “Mirrors, placed at careful angles in this pipe, leading up to the surface. They call it a periscope.”
    “That’s amazing!” Carver said.
    “And expensive,” Hawking growled. “And you wonder where all the money’s gone.”
    Tudd scowled. “I’ll have you know the army is considering purchasing the patent.”
    “
Considering,
as in, they haven’t given you a penny.”
    Tudd straightened. He suddenly looked quite formidable despite his girth. “I don’t have to explain myself to someone who hasn’t even been here in months! I’ve molded this place into