Page 116 of Affair

“You believe he descends into our meeting chamber from this room?”

“As I told Charlotte, this mansion was once a brothel. Such establishments are commonly equipped with peepholes and hidden staircases.”

“Good God.” Hamilton gazed at him in frank astonishment. “Are you saying that you actually discuss such things with Miss Arkendale?”

“Charlotte is a lady of many varied and unusual interests.” Baxter surveyed the doorknob. There was no film of dust to mar the metal. It gleamed dully in the flickering light. Someone had recently entered this chamber.

“If a discussion of brothels constitutes your notion of polite conversation, it’s little wonder that you’ve never experienced much luck with the ladies, Baxter.” Hamilton reached out to open the door. “I really must remember to give you some pointers.” He grinned over his shoulder as he pushed the door open and walked into the room.

Baxter felt rather than heard the rumble of hidden gears. “Hamilton, wait.”

“What’s the matter?” Hamilton took the candle from him and strode into the center of the chamber. He glanced at Baxter, who hesitated on the threshold. “The place is empty, just like the others. Is something …Baxter, the door.”

Baxter sensed the movement overhead. He looked up and saw a solid gate fashioned of iron. With a sound like that of a sword being drawn from a scabbard, it descended swiftly downward out of the lintel. He realized that when it was in place it would seal the chamber.

He only had a second to make a decision. He could either retreat back out into the hall or join Hamilton inside the treacherous chamber.

“Bloody hell.” He crouched and threw himself swiftly across the threshold.

With a soft, sighing scream, the iron door slammed into the floor.

“Christ.” Hamilton stared at the metal wall that now occupied the space where the door had been. “We’re trapped.”

A sudden, acute silence descended.

Baxter straightened. He saw that. Hamilton was correct. The single window was covered with an iron shutter.

“Opening the door and crossing the threshold obviously triggers the mechanism that activates the gate,” Baxter mused. “Quite clever. Presumably the owner of this place knows how to prevent that guillotine from carving him up like a leg of mutton every time he enters this chamber. Must be a hidden switch somewhere on the outside wall.”

Hamilton whirled to face him. “Baxter, this is not an interesting little problem to be solved with scientific deduction. We’re trapped.”

“Perhaps.” Baxter continued to study the chamber.

Unlike the other rooms on the top floor, this one was sumptuously furnished. There was a heavily draped bed, a large wardrobe, a massive desk, and a Chinese screen. A stone fireplace occupied one wall.

He began to prowl the room. “Perhaps not.”

“What the devil does that mean? I must tell you, Baxter, this is no time to become cryptic and inscrutable.”

“Give me a moment to think.”

“You should have stayed out in the corridor,” Hamilton muttered. “Why did you enter this chamber when you saw that the gate was closing? Now we are both locked inside this place. If you had remained outside, at least you would have been free.”

“Whoever designed this room will have been clever enough to ensure that he had an escape route for himself,” Baxter said absently.

He took the candle and held it aloft. He saw the note on the wide desk immediately. The sheet of foolscap was folded and sealed.

“Even if there is a means of escape, how are we to find it?” Hamilton demanded. “Baxter, we could be trapped in here until we die of thirst or hunger. No one will hear us through these walls.”

Baxter did not respond. His entire attention was riveted on the note. He walked toward the desk.

“Baxter? What is it?”

“A message.” Baxter set down the candle. He picked up the note and looked at the seal. The wax was embossed with the same alchemical image that Drusilla Heskett had drawn in her watercolor sketchbook. A triangle within a circle. “From the magician, I believe.”

Hamilton hurried toward him. “What does it say?”

Baxter broke the seal and unfolded the crisp foolscap. There was only a single line on the page.

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