The Inventor's Son

Chapter 11: In Which There is a Chess Piece Used in a Foul Game

ALOYSIUS HARDWICK, A WELL-DRESSED GENTLEMAN of seventy, paid a Tuesday morning visit to the residence of Malcolm Stanwood, Member of Parliament. Once Hardwick was shown up to Malcolm's study, he thought he could hear the man mutter, "What could Aloysius Hardwick want?"

He tipped his top hat to the butler, and then looked at Malcolm Stanwood, who seemed in a right state. "Dear me? Scotch before noon?" he commented as he watched the president of the investing club of Stanwood, Newberry, Hardwick & Milford send the scotch down his throat in one gulp.

Malcolm turned to glare at him with bloodshot hazel eyes. "It's been that sort of day. Have you seen the papers, old boy?" He pointed to a newspaper on the edge of his large mahogany desk.

Hardwick frowned when he saw the headline about a "BLOODBATH AT CHARING CROSS." He leaned in, trying to get Malcolm to focus on his eyes. Eventually, Hardwick lost his patience. "Inebriating yourself will not do any good. This morning, I awakened, went about my morning routine, and then, I saw that I had received the group telegram informing everyone that we were collectively not investing in Hugh & Olson. Oddly, though I may be quite old, I do recall with some clarity that just Thursday last, before the holiday, we were set to draw funds to give to Devin Pollman! And now?"

"Now, that deal is dead. Please, Hardwick, I beg you, let this rest!" Malcolm whined.

Hardwick possessed a stern face and gray eyes that aided in making him appear as though he were truly made of stone. He used them quite effectively as he frowned and asked, "How can I? You appear as though you've spent the entire evening last and this morning drinking. Since when do you behave like that? Where is your brother? He ought to be here!"

Malcolm let out a sob, which silenced Hardwick effectively. "My brother! My dear twin brother!" Malcolm cried, then turned and looked at Hardwick standing before him. "My brother heard the name Olson and fled London! And what is worse is that now Ethan may have died yesterday in that horrible disaster at Charing Cross!"

"He's gone? Whatever for? And Ethan? That's his son, yes?" Hardwick asked. "Are you truly serious? Do you really believe that the child may have been killed yesterday?"

Malcolm did not answer him immediately, and when he did, all he said was, "I must find that boy! He never made it to Southampton last night! He either died or has left England!"

"You need to find the boy? And not your brother?"

"If only I had grabbed that child yesterday! God forgive me for being so easily fooled! Marcus has turned the boy against me!" Malcolm ranted.

Hardwick shook his head. "The boy is your nephew, your brother's child, and if he chooses to take him abroad, what can you do, really?"

Malcolm gave Hardwick a rather desperate look. "Don't you understand? If he did not die at Charing Cross, that beast with the metal claw that did those terrible things is going to be chasing Ethan!"

Hardwick felt, quite suddenly, uncertain. "You're not saying that the creature that we had met last week is the very same one responsible for such destruction!"

"That is exactly my fear! And he knows what Ethan looks like. He saw the family picture!"

"But what about your own children?" Hardwick asked.

"They will all be back in school within the week. Besides, though Hugh & Olson may be angry with me, the bad blood between Colbourne and my brother goes back almost twenty years. No, he's going to pursue Ethan. There is something I can do, but I need to know where Ethan has gone. You actually might be able to help me."