Read The Future Door Online

Authors: Jason Lethcoe

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The Future Door (8 page)

BOOK: The Future Door
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Peanuts gave the timepiece to his master. And after running his gnarled fingers over the surface and recognizing exactly what it was, blind Silas Grunge pocketed the watch and with unexpected speed dashed down a nearby alley to the back door of a nearby telegraph office.

Within moments, the message “BOY AND SNODGRASS ALIVE stop ATRAX PLAN FAILURE stop RETURNING TO LONDON” blazed across electric wires, traveling the long cables to London like vibrations sent down a spider's web.

And Silas knew that the old, gray spider that waited on the other side would not be pleased by the news that these two juicy flies had escaped his clutches.

11
BAKER ST REET

T
he long journey home was an anxious one for Griffin and Rupert. All either of them could think about was getting back to the apartment as soon as possible.

They paid the hansom cabbie twice his normal fare, and the cab flew down the London streets at a reckless pace. They arrived at 221 Baker Street in record time, and Griffin and his uncle jumped out of the carriage and hurried up the front steps to their apartment. In spite of the urgency, with Griffin's expert gaze he couldn't help but notice subtle changes to the apartment that once belonged to Sherlock Holmes. For one thing, the dingy mat that had always been outside the door had been replaced by a newer, cleaner-looking one. And second, the window that faced Baker Street had been decorated with new curtains, delicate lace that looked as if it were made from spiders' webs.

These things registered in the split second it took for Rupert to remove his key and throw open the door to their dwelling, and, although noted by Griffin's inquisitive mind, he didn't really have the time to give it much thought.

They strode into the foyer.

“I'll get the lights,” said Rupert.

But before he took another step, a mysterious man-sized shape hobbled forward out of the darkness.

A thief !
Griffin thought. Seeing no other way to defend himself, he raised his cane as if to strike.

“Master Griffin, Mr. Snodgrass, welcome home,” came a flat, mechanical voice. As the shape drew nearer, Griffin recognized Watts, his uncle's mechanical manservant.

“Hello, Watts,” Griffin said, feeling relieved. Under usual circumstances, he would have been overjoyed to see the marvelous invention and to engage him in a lively discussion, but he was too worried at the moment to make conversation.

He hurried past the robot, following his uncle into the inventing room.
Please let it still be there
, Griffin prayed. He remembered the exact spot where his uncle had been working on the device and hoped beyond hope that he would see the Chrono-Teleporter lying there, undisturbed.

Rupert turned on the gas lamps, illuminating his cluttered inventing area. After Griffin had had his accident, his uncle had made an attempt to clean up the room. But old habits die hard, and soon the chaotic clutter of invention had once more possessed the crowded workspace.

“I'll be right back,” Rupert said. “Please stay here,” he added. And before Griffin could say a word, his uncle had hurried back out through the front door.

Griffin scanned the countless piles of bolts, bulbs, wires, gears, cogs, and clock faces. Something looked wrong. Although at first glance everything seemed undisturbed, for some reason he felt certain that everything he saw was slightly rearranged, like someone had been there while they were gone and had rummaged through his uncle's things.

Griffin wondered where his uncle was. He assumed that he had gone to wherever his secret hiding spot for the Chrono-Teleporter was.

Suddenly, he heard his uncle burst back into the room. And to Griffin's immense relief, it wasn't but a moment later when he heard him cry, “All's well!”

Griffin wheeled around to see his uncle marching toward him with an ordinary brown teapot in his upraised hands. Griffin recognized it immediately as the Chrono-Teleporter sketched in his uncle's journal.

“Where . . . ?” Griffin started, but fell silent. He could tell that Rupert didn't want to discuss the location of his secret hiding spot.

“I'm sorry, nephew, but that must remain a secret. I haven't told another living soul about the location, and, as you can see, it has ensured the safety of the machine.”

Griffin tried not to feel hurt because his uncle didn't trust him with the location. His naturally inquisitive mind didn't like secrets. But he respected his uncle's privacy and understood his reason for not wanting to share the information.

Rupert grinned and set the device on the fireplace mantel. “Safe and sound, eh, my boy? We had nothing to worry about after all.”

Griffin nodded and let out a long sigh. The amount of time he'd spent worrying had taken a toll on him. He suddenly felt completely exhausted, as though he could crawl upstairs to his bed and sleep for a week!

A sudden knock on the door made them both jump. After exchanging quick, puzzled looks, Rupert lifted one of the many futuristic weapons he kept mounted on the wall and slowly approached the door. Griffin followed, wishing he still had his Stinger, but the pistol had vanished along with his luggage during the carriage incident back in Boston.

“Who's there?” Rupert barked, standing just behind the door.

“Your new neighbor,” came the lilting reply. Griffin and his uncle exchanged puzzled looks for a second time, and with a shrug, Rupert lowered his futuristic-looking rifle and carefully opened the door.

“Hello. I am your new neighbor,” said a young woman wearing a silken dress of bright blue and white gloves that went all the way up to her elbows.

Griffin's cheeks colored the moment he saw her, for she was very pretty. Rupert was so stunned that he just stood for several moments with his jaw working up and down and no sound coming out.

“You must be the great detectives Rupert Snodgrass and Griffin Sharpe. How delightful to meet you both,” the lady chirped.

And without even waiting to be asked inside, she entered the apartment. They watched as the beautiful young woman set a basket down on the kitchen table and began unpacking a delicious-looking tea.

“Er . . . excuse me, Miss . . . ah . . . ,” Rupert said, finding his voice at last.

“Pepper,” she replied. “Charlotte Pepper. The newest resident of Mr. Sherlock Holmes's famous address.”

She handed Rupert a jar of lemon curd. “Open this, please.”

Rupert stared at it for a moment, then automatically did as he was asked. Handing the jar back to her, he said awkwardly, “Mrs. Pepper, if you don't mind my asking—”

“Miss.”

“Beg your pardon?” Rupert asked.

Charlotte Pepper took the opened jar from Rupert and placed it on a tray next to a dish of clotted cream.
Miss
Pepper. I'm not married,” she said briskly. “

Rupert's face turned bright red, and he cleared his throat.

“Yes, yes, of course, I didn't mean to . . .”

“To what,
Mister
Snodgrass?” she asked playfully. “To insult me? Well, I assure you that it is no insult. I am twenty-four years of age and not married, and I don't intend to be so for many years to come. I am quite capable of looking after myself and see the whole institution as distracting from my work.”

Griffin noticed that his uncle's hands were fidgeting, nervously straightening his tie. He had never seen him act this strangely before.

“And, er, what kind of work is it that you do, if you don't mind my asking?” Rupert said, his voice cracking a little.

Without hesitation she replied, “Like you and your young nephew, I am also a detective.”

Griffin noticed that her words seemed to have a powerful effect on his uncle. Rupert stared at his neighbor with a look that could only be described as total and complete adoration.

Griffin couldn't help chuckling at his uncle's odd behavior. When he'd first come to live with him, Rupert had been completely obsessed with despising his neighbor, Sherlock Holmes, seeing him as a threat to his very existence. But this time, a second detective at Baker Street evoked the opposite response. Charlotte Pepper must be an exceptional person, of that there could be no doubt. For within five minutes, she'd completely transformed Griffin's perpetually scowling uncle into a grinning puppy dog.

Which made Griffin suddenly think of something important. With a start, he turned to his uncle.

“Uncle! We forgot Toby!”

“Hmmm?” Rupert said. He was intently watching Miss Pepper unpack the delicious tea and seemed unable to register anything else.

Griffin pulled at his uncle's sleeve. “Toby, Uncle. We were in such a hurry that we forgot to get him from the ship's kennel!”

Rupert suddenly snapped back into focus.

“Toby!” He smacked his palm onto his forehead. Then, turning to Miss Pepper, he said in a ridiculously formal voice, “I'm terribly sorry, my dear Miss Pepper, but we shan't be able to join you in what looks to be quite an excellent tea.” He indicated the beautiful array of freshly baked scones, jam, cream, and sandwiches with a bow and flourish of his hand.

Griffin's stomach rumbled, and he couldn't help feeling a little upset that they had to interrupt what was bound to be a magnificent meal.

If Charlotte Pepper was disconcerted by this, she didn't show it. She continued setting out the tea, adding some elegant silver spoons to the place settings.

“Well then, be off if you have to, but return as soon as you can. The scones came out of the oven just five minutes ago, and the sooner you return the more delicious they will taste. I'll be here when you get back.”

Griffin hesitated. Up until that moment, he'd been intrigued by this forceful person who had shown up bearing gifts and assuming a level of comfort and intimacy that was usually reserved for old acquaintances. But as he thought about all of his uncle's secret inventions, especially the Chrono-Teleporter, he wasn't sure it was a good idea to leave a stranger in the house while they were gone.

To his surprise, his uncle didn't seem to share his reservations. Rupert placed his battered bowler back on his head and smiled broadly.

“Of course, my dear, of course. We shan't be gone long, and should you need any assistance at all, Watts will take care of you.”

Rupert called down the hallway to his metal servant. “Watts, I want you to see to Miss Pepper's every need. See to it that she's made absolutely comfortable.”

Hearing the mention of his name, the metal man clanked into the kitchen and raised a hand of welcome to Miss Pepper. For the first time, the girl seemed at a disadvantage, gaping openly at the brass man with his sculpted metal mustache and bowler.

“Mr. Snodgrass!” she finally exclaimed, clasping her hands together in delight. “I had heard that you were a remarkable inventor, but I had no idea you were capable of such genius!”

Rupert flushed with pleasure and, to Griffin's horror, let out a very unusual, high-pitched giggle. Then, before he had a chance to voice his concerns, Rupert wheeled from where he stood and, taking his nephew's arm, said in a very jolly sort of voice, “Come along, nephew. We have a pup to rescue and a lovely lady that we don't want to keep waiting.”

“Um, Uncle, aren't you forgetting something?” Griffin said quietly. He nodded his head in the direction of the parlor, where the time machine was sitting on the fireplace mantel.

Rupert started. Griffin could tell that he'd been so distracted by the lovely Miss Pepper that he'd almost forgotten.

“Oh yes. Of course.” Rupert bowed to Miss Pepper as he quickly marched back into the parlor. He returned a few seconds later, looking relaxed.

Griffin couldn't help noticing that he hadn't gone back through the front door, to the spot where he'd hidden it before.

“Is everything . . . er . . . okay?” Griffin asked.

“Fine, my boy.” Then Rupert leaned close to Griffin's ear and whispered, “I doubt we have anything to fear from our guest. But to be safe, I tucked it away out of sight.”

And the next thing he knew, Griffin was shoved out the door and was bounding down the steps, trying to keep pace with an uncle whom he thought he knew, but who was now acting like a completely different person.

12
THE SPIDER'S WEB

M
iss Jane Atrax was hanging upside down. Her long auburn tresses dangled beneath her, her hat and goggles were gone, and she was bound neck to ankle in iron gray cables. Her mouth was gagged, but her eyes spoke loudly enough. They were wide with an expression that not many could produce in such a formidable woman. Just days before, she had been the predatory spider, but she was now the fly. And she was terrified.

“Ah, Miss Atrax. So good to see you again!”

Professor Moriarty wheeled into the immense cavern, followed by his cousin, Nigel. The torch-lit cave cast eerie shadows on both men's faces, making them look, if possible, even more sinister than they already were. Miss Atrax struggled in her bonds, powerless against the heavy cables that held her fast. Nigel Moriarty chuckled as he watched her panicked writhing, evidently enjoying her discomfort.

BOOK: The Future Door
10.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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