“No, you can’t,” he agreed, but said nothing more.
They passed a few foreign displays on their way to the British ones: Greece and Turkey, Spain and Portugal. Zaria stopped to gawk when they reached France. It was the largest exhibit thus far, withtapestries and textiles far more beautiful than anyone else had to offer. Next was Belgium, which had provided a statue of a man on a horse; the German states had sent glassware; and Russia’s exhibit was empty, given that the ships carrying their contributions had apparently gotten stuck in ice and hadn’t yet arrived.
The scene changed to reveal Trinidad and its fragrant spices, Canada and its well-crafted canoe, and something called a Tempest Prognosticator, which somehow predicted storms using leeches. That one intrigued Zaria greatly.
“Have you quite finished?” Kane asked, and she ripped her gaze away from the prognosticator. She hadn’t even realized she’d come to a full halt.
“It’s interesting.”
“Yes. And you know what’s even more interesting? That.” Kane jutted his chin toward what appeared to be an overlarge bird cage, all thin brassy lines culminating in a tapered point. Within the cage was a glass box, and within the box was an array of beautiful jewelry. There were brooches and earrings, necklaces and cuffs. It was all far flashier than anything Zaria had seen even the richest Londoners sport.
“Is that it?” she said, a chill abruptly crossing her skin. “The Waterhouse exhibit?”
“Yes.” Kane’s voice was reverential. He led her closer, eyes shining in a way that, had anyone else cared to look closely, would surely have given him away as a thief. “Yes, this is it. And that”—he pointed—“is the necklace.”
It was lovely, to be certain. Set behind the glass upon a soft cream-colored cloth, it was the center of the display. A point of pride for George Waterhouse, the famed Irish jeweler, it looked far too heavy to wear. Shining white rocks that must have been diamondssat within individual frames of elaborate gold filigree, and in the very middle was a beautiful bloodred stone—the largest gem Zaria had ever seen. It was perfectly cut, shaped like a teardrop.
That said, she couldn’t imagine why Kane wanted it, other than perhaps its inconceivableworth. But so many items in the Exhibition had to be priceless—why this one specifically?
It didn’t matter. The rest of Waterhouse’s display would be Zaria’s, and here it was, so close that she could barely refrain from stretching out a hand and grasping the bars of the display. For an echo of a moment, she saw it all again: the house in the country, the calm silence of a place without squalor and suffering. Jules’s smile, free from strain as it hadn’t been since their youth.
In one week, everything would change.
KANE
KANE’S MOUTH WENT DRY AS HE STARED AT THE NECKLACE. The one thing standing in the way of saving Fletcher’s life. The main source of his current conflict with Ward.
It was larger than he’d imagined. Even more stunning. The longer he looked at it, though, the more he understood why Ward wanted it so badly. It was a piece fit for a queen, and it was surely priceless. Finally,finally, Kane had found it. Now he only had to take it.
The necklace sat within a glass case that in turn sat inside a rectangular iron cage. One side of the cage was dominated by what appeared to be the brass-plated front of an ordinary safe. It was an unusual display, and Kane frowned, tracking a slow semicircle around the setup.
“It’s locked,” Zaria said needlessly. For a moment, her words scarcely registered with Kane. She had a strange look on her face, as if something had shocked her and she hadn’t quite recovered. Perhapsshe was merely overwhelmed by the sheer number of things in the Crystal Palace. Despite the rather dreary day, light streamed through the angled glass ceiling, picking up the gold in her hair, the gold flecks in her large brown eyes. Kane could tell she was self-conscious about her simple attire, but here, all sun gilded and swathed in crimson, he couldn’t imagine how she felt like an outsider.
He gave his head a shake, refocusing on the Waterhouse display. He had picked countless locks in his life—it was a skill most of Ward’s crew had—and he’d expected to encounter one here, but this lock… it was clearly different.
“Son of a bitch.” He exhaled the curse, glancing over his shoulder to ensure nobody was watching. A few feet away, a group of patrons marveled at some beautifully woven tapestries, and just past that, a man chuckled jovially as he pointed at a longsword. None of them were looking at Kane and Zaria.
He could steal it now, Kane thought, if not for the lock. Could smash that glass case, grab the necklace, and run.
But he pushed the idea from his head. It was a foolish thing to entertain. Even if the necklace hadn’t been locked up, he wouldn’t make it more than a few steps before he got a bullet in the head. Officers milled around the perimeter of the Exhibition, and Kane didn’t know their rotations. Not yet. That was Fletcher’s job. That was why they had a plan in place. Posing as Theodore and his fiancée, Kane and Zaria would enter just as they had this morning, paying their shillings and getting lost in the crowd, which would be far larger than it was today. The queen and the prince consort would each make a speech not long after the doors opened, which would divert enough attention to allow Kane to pay a visit to his very own contribution to the Exhibition. It wasn’t here yet, of course, but it would be. Once he got his hands on it, that was.
What hehadn’tplanned for was this particular lock. Kane could pick a simple lock in seven seconds. A more complicated one typically took between two and five minutes. He knew from Ward that an alchemological smoke bomb provided complete opaqueness for around three minutes and gradually diminished in the seven minutes following.
Three minutes to work at the lock, seven to escape. Those were the numbers Kane had been relying on. But this? He didn’t have a goddamned clue what to do with this.
“Mad, isn’t it?” The man who had been examining the longsword came to stand between Kane and Zaria, arms crossed over his narrow chest. He wore a suit and top hat of some luxurious fabric, and he didn’t seem to notice the tension in the air.
Kane forced a vague smile onto his face. “What’s mad?”
The man shrugged, eyes on the exhibit. “Why, the lengths at which they’ve gone to in order to keep the Waterhouse jewels safe. See, they’ve got one of those new American permutating locks on the cage. Seems a bit unnecessary, what with all the security milling about.”
“You never know the kind of things people might try to steal,” Zaria said, and Kane shot her a withering look behind the man’s back.
“What’s so special about this lock?” he said, hoping to distract from Zaria’s comment.
The man brightened. He was the kind of person who liked to be asked about his knowledge, Kane saw. That boded well.
“Why, it’s a new design patented by Day and Newell—the most complicated one yet! America entered the design, and their representative has teamed up with Waterhouse to showcase both the lock and the jewelry in one display. You see, it requires a parautoptic key, which can have as many as fifteen changeable bits. The owner of thekey can rearrange the bits however they’d like prior to each insertion, and the lock will adjust without any manual reordering of the levers.” The man adjusted the hat atop his graying hair. “The brass plate in front is to hide the levers from view. Impossible to pick, they say!”
