“Very well. But since house rules entitle us to attend a council of war, it’s not technically eavesdropping if we listen from the adjoining parlor,” replied Raven.
“Go!” said Charlotte, punctuating the command with a shooing gesture as the sound of approaching steps in the corridor grew louder.
The room quickly filled, voices raised in greeting echoing off the walls as everyone settled into place.
Alison quickly rapped her cane for silence. “My ancient heart can’t stand the suspense a moment longer.” She raised her quizzing glass and fixed Charlotte and Wrexford with a basilisk stare. “What the devil has been going on these last few days?” A sniff. “And how dare you leave me out of the fray?”
“First things first,” called Henning. He turned to Tyler, who was standing by the sideboard. “Pass out libations before we dive into the details.”
More murmurs and shuffling.
“Sláinte.” The surgeon raised his glass. “I would propose a toast to peace and quiet, but I’m not an idiot.”
“Stubble the sarcasm, Baz. As Alison has suggested, we have a great deal to discuss, so let us begin without further delay.” Wrexford turned to Sheffield and Cordelia, who were sitting together facing Cordelia’s cousin, Mademoiselle Benoit, and Mrs. Guppy. “Since so much of this mystery and its ultimate resolution revolves around Oliver Carrick and his star-crossed Revolutions-Per-Minute Society, I say we begin with him.”
“When he fled from our town house several days ago, we all assumed that hemustbe guilty of Milton’s death, despite his assertions of innocence,” added Charlotte. “But it seems that, as with so many of the confounding twists and turns in this investigation, we couldn’t unravel the truth from all the misleading clues.”
“Explain yourself, Oliver,” urged Cordelia with a smile. “Thank heaven you were clever enough to spot the thread that led to the ultimate truth.”
Carrick rose and cleared his throat. “I regret plunging all of you into such a bubbling cauldron of danger. Had I realized the key to the mystery sooner—”
“Leave off all the shilly-shallying and get to the point,” called Henning after a noisy slurp of whisky.
“The point is . . .” Carrick closed his eyes, a look of mingled sorrow and regret shading his face.
“Oliver,” encouraged Cordelia.
He expelled a sad sigh. “The point is, we were all chasing papers that didn’t exist.”
“How can you be so damn certain?” challenged Henning.
“Because Jasper Milton was not only a genius—he also possessed an eidetic memory.”
The room went absolutely still.
“An eedee-what?” demanded the dowager.
It was Wrexford who jumped in to explain. “Put simply, it is the ability to save an image in the mind’s eye and recall it with perfect clarity at a later time.”
“But surely that’s impossible!” protested Alison.
“For most of us, yes,” agreed the earl. “But a few rare individuals are gifted with such powers.” He made a face. “I feel like an utter lackwit for not recalling an incident that happened early in 1812. Had I done so, we might have solved this mystery a great deal sooner.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Wrex,” said Charlotte. “It was merely a rumor, and I had heard it, too. But it sounded so far-fetched that I dismissed it out of hand.” A sigh. “Even though at the time I had reason to believe that the government was taking it seriously.”
“But what—” began McClellan.
“I shall explain,” said the earl. He moved to the hearth and turned to face everyone.
“In 1810, an American merchant—or as Kit would call him, an entrepreneur—by the name of Francis Cabot Lowell came to Britain on an extended visit. During that time, he visited a number of our textile mills in Lancashire and Scotland, which used the most advanced technology in the world to manufacture cloth. Lowell knew that America desperately needed such advanced innovations to become an economic power. But Britain had strict laws prohibiting any copy of technical plans for such inventions from being taken out of the country.”
“Our government, however, suspected that Lowell meant to try to take a copy of the plans for the steam-powered spinning and weaving machines with him when he returned to America,” offered Charlotte. “He was stopped and searched at the docks, but the customs officials found nothing and had to permit him to leave. However, as soon as he was back in Massachusetts, he was able to draw the complex plans of the various machines from memory, as the mill owners had decided there was no harm in letting him have a close look at them.”
“Good heavens,” muttered Alison. “And here I have trouble recalling whether I have put two or three teaspoons of sugar in my tea five minutes after I have poured myself a cup.”
Charlotte smiled before continuing. “Although the government covered up what happened, they are extremely sensitive about any further technological secrets slipping away from these shores. They had heard rumors from some of Milton’s professors at Cambridge that he possessed an extraordinary memory and became worried when their operatives in Paris noticed that he was spending time with several known radicals.”
“And that explains why Grentham and his operatives had an interest in our investigation,” said Wrexford. “And why they were desperate to know whether Milton’s ideas had died with him, or whether someone had convinced him to write everything down.”
