Strong Mystery: Murder, Mystery and Magic Books 1-3 (Steampunk Magica) (18 page)

Chapter 20

Everyone was startled when the walls, the floor, and
even their stomachs began to vibrate
.
Their attention had been on the
duel, even though the only thing visible through the fog-like steam was an
occasional flash like lightning.

As quickly as they had started, the vibrations stopped.
Everyone was so busy talking about the strange vibration, looking at the walls in
askance, that many missed the dome of the dueling circle being released. Their
attention was drawn back to it by the cries of the other spectators.

What they saw was the protective
circle down, the steam dissipating like morning mist. Owen Strong strode
proudly from it. He held out a hand for his clothes. Jinhao wordlessly handed
him his pants.  Two of the Duke’s servants ran to a crumpled form that lay on
the ground. They bent to examine the fallen. After arguing among themselves for
a time, they both stood up, and one called up to the Duke.

“She’s still alive, your Grace. We
are not sure what has been done to her, but she is breathing.”

The Duke scowled.

“The Duel was to be to the
death! Lord Strong, fulfill your duty!”

Owen had just replaced his
evening jacket.

“I believe I have, your Grace.
The law simply states ‘until one of the two shall no longer be able to raise a
defense’. I would offer that Mistress MacAllister has lost as thoroughly as if
she had been killed.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a silver
cigarette case. Slowly, he tapped the end of the cigarette alight and blew
smoke upwards. “Besides, I am more interested in hearing what she has to say
concerning her arrangements with certain nobles within the Empire, aren’t you,
your Grace?”

The Duke’s face turned red, and
he choked in indignation,

“See here, sir! Do you mean to
imply that I had something to do with this…sordid affair? I will call you out
myself!”

Owen grinned like a skull.

“Oh, come now, Caldwell, I’ve
said nothing of the kind! Although,” he continued musingly, “it would be of
interest to see what Mistress MacAllister has to say.” He raised an eyebrow at
the apoplectic Duke.

“My Lord Governor.” Owen turned
to the English Governor General of Hong Kong, who was standing next to Duke Caldwell.
“Would you be so kind as take not only Mistress MacAllister into your care, but
also Duke Caldwell and the Austrian delegation?”

The Governor stepped away from
Duke Caldwell, with a look of disgust on his face.

“While I can gladly take the
criminal, Mistress MacAllister, I’m not sure I have the authority to detain
either a Ducal Ambassador, or a group of accredited delegates of a foreign
power,” he said with great sadness in his voice.

“May I approach,” Owen asked. At
the Governor’s nod, Owen made his way through the throng, climbing the stairs
to the stage where the delegates stood. 

Owen pulled the
carte blanche
from his vest pocket, holding it out wordlessly to the Governor General, who
took it. His eyebrows rose inch by inch as his eyes ran over the words.

“My God, man,” he breathed, “do
you know what this is?”

Owen grimaced bleakly.

“Yes, Sir Charles, I do, and now
it is yours.”

Sir Charles rocked back on his
heels.

“Can you even do that?”

Owen pointed to the
carte blanche
.

“I believe it says there that I
can.”

“Perhaps,” Sir Charles’ eyes
narrowed. “Why are you doing this? No one surrenders this kind of power willingly.”

Owen gave an elegant shrug.

“With that kind of power comes a
responsibility that I have neither sought out, nor desired. You’ve always said
you were a reformer hampered by a lack of power. Well, Sir Charles, I suggest
you reform while you can.”

They were interrupted by a
triumphant roar, as the Golden Dragon flew towards them and veered off at the
last moment. They watched in silence as the magnificent being gently landed in
the mouth of a cave high on the hill behind them.

“And now I believe you and your
Chinese counterpart shall have to answer to an angry Dragon”, Owen said dryly.
“I do not envy you, if you cannot show him that you are on top of the plot.”

“What plot,” Sir Charles said
crossly. “All I see is a mad woman murderess, and I was told something about a
group of ships approaching the city while you were dueling. What did you do to MacAllister
by the way? I’ve never seen a sleep spell work so well.”

Owen sketched the outline of the
plot briefly. Sir Charles regarded the information with an iron face.

“Not while I am Governor of this
city,” he said with iron determination.

Owen smiled at the Governor
again.

“That’s the spirit,” he said
encouragingly, “Now to deal with that Dragon.”

Later Jinhao asked him about the
duel.

“So what did you do to Mistress MacAllister?”
The two of them sat around a glowing brazier in Owen’s house. The weather had
continued to be very chilly, causing even Owen to be grateful for the heat.

He pulled on his pipe staring
into the glowing coals.

“I turned her life force back
against her. She was pumping out such a lovely amount, throwing around big
spells like that.”

Jinhao looked at him uncertainly.

“I did not know that was
possible.”

Owen smiled wanly at her.

“It is perilously close to Necromancy,
as far as Crown law is concerned. I trust you won’t turn me in for it.”

Jinhao gave her gentle smile,

“Of course not.” She raised one
patrician eyebrow, “That is, so long as you tell me what this
plot
was
and how you figured it out.”

Owen sighed.

“It all started with Partridge.
Why should he hand such an important assignment to me, an avowed renegade?  And
why include such a powerful instrument as the
carte blanche
? I can
follow his thought even now. ‘Turn the young pup’s head, and puff him up so
that he does something stupid’ is how I think it went.” Owen blew out smoke.

“The only problem was that I could
not figure out the British connection until the duel. Then it was very clear to
me. Duke Caldwell, head of the delegation, had to be actually in favor of the
Austrians taking over Hong Kong, which meant that the Order had to think that
there was a way to not only avert the threat of World War, but bring someone
like Caldwell to heel as well.” Owen paused thoughtfully, before continuing.

“Doubtless Caldwell had some
economic deal worked out with MacAllister for when she was head of Hastings
House. That was the only motive that would explain his encouragement of the
stupidity of the duel.  He had no idea I am sure, as to the destruction the
Austrians were planning.”

“But Mistress McAlister was not
the heir to the House…” Jinhao observed.

“Ah, caught that did you,” Owen
nodded approvingly. “That was one less reason to consider her a suspect at
first. The Austrians must have filled her head with talk of being given the
title once they were in charge. Caldwell doubtless encouraged such thoughts
with balderdash about royal patents and the like. No mind that it would have
meant killing also Lady Hastings and her brother,” Owen said.  

“No self-respecting Englishman
could possibly entertain such carnage,” Owen stated. “Besides it would
literally kill the goose and the golden eggs at the same time.”  Seeing
Jinhao’s puzzlement at the phrase, Owen quickly added some context. “It is a
saying we have. I’ll explain it someday.”

Jinhao waved that aside.

“So how did you get the proof to
give Sir Charles before he presented it to Lohan?”

“Oh, there isn’t any proof, not
really,” Owen said breezily. “That simply must be the way it was.”

Seeing Jinhao’s incredulous
look, he scowled.

“Wait until Mistress MacAllister
comes to, or one of Caldwell’s precious servants spend a night in gaol. Then
you’ll see. Gregg has already found clothing at MacAllister’s that would make a
good messenger disguise. Wait and see.”

Chapter 21

Jinhao came downstairs just as the visitor arrived at
the front door
.

She had seen Sir Stephen Partridge from the upper windows and
doubted very much that Owen would wish to see him. She also doubted that dear
old Barton would be able to keep him out.

She considered, again, the
merits of killing him. When Mistress MacAllister had come awake, her story
matched what Owen had deduced all those months ago. While the now former Duke
of Caldwell had paid for his part in the plot with public disgrace, Jinhao was
certain that others such as Sir Stephen had escaped without repercussions.

Owen had convinced her that he
was more trouble to go after than to leave alone, yet here he was walking right
into her reach.  She shook her head clear of the temptation as she opened the
door.

Sir Stephen’s eyes widened as
she appeared.

“You answer doors now, do you?”
The old man stopped just the other side of the house wards. “Please tell him
that I wish to speak with him.”

“I doubt that he wishes to speak
to you,” she replied tartly.

Owen came bustling out of the
downstairs parlor followed by Barton.

“What’s this then,” he snapped.
He pulled his blue lounging robe closer around himself. “Oh it’s you Partridge.
I’m sorry, not in the mood to play another one of your deadly little games, if
that’s what you want. Good day to you.”  He turned back towards the parlor
door.

“Wait,” Sir Stephen cried.
“Don’t you even wish to hear what has brought me here? Won’t you let me in?”

Owen gave his shark-like smile.

“Oh I do not think I will let
you inside my wards again Partridge, nor do I think you want to try it even if
a household member does give you leave.”

“Owen, wait,” Sir Stephen said
earnestly. “I have always had your best interests at heart, believe me. After
the affair with Duke Caldwell I’m afraid that you’ve come very much to the
attention of unfriendly forces, forces that neither your brother, nor the
governor, nor I can keep from you.”

“Is that what you’ve come to
say? Warn me about deadly shadows?” Owen laughed, his eyes alight. “I had
already deduced as much some months ago. There are moneyed interests that I
have given the black eye to.  I have something more interesting to attend to
now, however.

“It seems that there are
fishermen vanishing in odd circumstances.” He turned to Jinhao.

“Jinhao please do not kill him.
It would make for awkwardness.” With that he turned and re-entered the front
parlor. Jinhao had a chance to see an old woman in fisherman’s work clothes
sitting within.

Sir Stephen looked at Jinhao
crossly.

“Well,” the old man snapped at her.

“It is well, yes,” Jinhao nodded
at him.

His face darkened.

“No! I mean, do you intend to
follow his wishes about not trying to kill me?”

She looked at him coolly.

“I see no reason not to.
Understand that it is his wish that makes it so. You cannot harm him anymore,
as he said.” The old man seemed about to say something, she thought, then he
changed his mind, or so it appeared.

“Well,” Sir Stephen said. “I had
best be going then.” He waved a hand at the sign near the door. “This is new
since I was last here. What is this all about?” The sign said: ‘Owen Strong-Magica
Investigations and Inquiries’ in both English and Mandarin.

“It is Owen’s calling now,”
Jinhao said proudly. “He is gaining a name among English and Han alike, for
being who one can go to when there is strange trouble in their lives, whether
they be noble or commoner.”

Sir Stephen Partridge sniffed.

“Well enough I suppose for a
dilettante,” he drawled. “Good-day to you Mistress Jinhao.”

“And to you, Partridge,” Jinhao
returned. She watched in silence as the old man walked away. When she was sure
he had gone, she turned to the front parlor. Entering noiselessly, she watched
the animated glow on Owen’s face.

It looked so much better than
the bored indifference he used to show. Jinhao knew the new look well.

That look on Owen’s face meant
that whatever the old woman was saying to him, Owen would take up her cause.

~ ~ ~

BOOK 3
STRONG JUSTICE