Page 32 of The Journal of a Thousand Years
“Er, all right,” Bertie said.
“You’ve thought of everything,” Cyclops said heavily. “Very well. I agree not to inform Gabe just yet.”
I thought he’d eventually see it from my point of view. He knew as well as I did that I made Gabe vulnerable. It wasn’t just Gabe. Where he went, Alex followed. Cyclops would do anything to protect both.
While we waited for Mr. Jakes, Cyclops sent a team to the Bethnal Green address where I’d been kept captive, and another to the Hobsons’ home.
We didn’t have to wait too long before Mr. Jakes arrived. It was still early, and traffic hadn’t yet hit its morning peak, but I suspected he must have been nearby when he learned he was wanted at Scotland Yard. He looked as dapper as always, with his neatly combed brown hair and dark lashes framing light blue eyes that seemed to miss nothing.
He sat in a chair and removed a gold cigarette case from his inside jacket pocket. Cyclops asked him not to smoke in the confined space, so he returned it. “This must be important.”
Cyclops clasped his hands on the desk. “This is Bertie Hobson. He wants to confess something to you.”
Mr. Jakes must have known who sat with us, because he showed no surprise at the mention of Bertie’s name. The only sign he gave that he’d not expected a confession was the sudden arch of his brows.
Bertie glanced at me. At my encouraging nod, he cleared his throat. “It wasn’t my fault. It was my father’s,” he said in a rush of words. “He fell ill and told me to perform magic on the leather while he was confined to his bed. Naturally, I told him I was artless and couldn’t, but he didn’t believe me. He’d always suspected I was a magician, that my magic was simply buried within me. That’s why he and Mother sent me to Rosebank Gardens years ago. You can check for yourself. I’m sure they still have the old admissions records somewhere. If only he believed me when I protested, those boots would never have been distributed to the army.” He sat back, satisfied with his statement.
Mr. Jakes’s cool gaze gave nothing away. “Come with me and we’ll put it all in writing at my office. Scotland Yard isn’t the place for you.”
Bertie looked relieved. Perhaps he thought he’d be released. I wasn’t so sure he would be, however. But whether Mr. Jakes believed the blame belonged solely to the deceased Mr. Hobson, or he believed Bertie should hold some accountability, it didn’t matter to me. I shook Bertie’s hand and wished him good luck.
He exited Cyclops’s office, but Mr. Jakes hesitated in the doorway. His fingers drummed on the door jamb. “Why did he come to you with this, Miss Ashe?”
“That’s not important.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
I simply shrugged.
“Does it have something to do with the attempted abductions of Gabriel Glass and the speculation surrounding his magic?”
“Gabe is artless,” I said, parroting the words I’d repeated several times overnight.
I went to push past him, but Cyclops asked me to wait. Mr. Jakes left the office and closed the door.
Cyclops rounded the desk. “Sylvia?—"
“Nothing you say will convince me to change my mind.”
“I can see you’re determined.” He took my hand in his huge one. “I’ll just say good luck, but not goodbye. I believe we’ll see one another again soon.” He kissed my forehead then reached past me and opened the door.
“Take care,” I said and left.
I didn’t cry as I walked through the warren of halls to the main exit. My heart didn’t thud, my stomach felt settled. Either I was too tired to feel anything, or too numb, because seeing Cyclops for the last time should have drowned me in misery.
I leftThurlow’s vehicle where I’d parked it and took a taxi to my next stop. Fortunately, I’d asked the driver to wait for me because I was there an even shorter duration than I’d expected. Daisy didn’t answer my knock. She must be sound asleep still, or in the bathroom getting ready for work.
I scrawled a note and slipped it under her door. It felt woefully inadequate, but I couldn’t stay to say goodbye in person. After my lodgings, this would be one of the first places Gabe looked for me after reading my note.
I didn’t know where Petra lived, and her shop wouldn’t be open yet, so I headed to the next person on my list, since he lived closer to Daisy than the Hendry sisters and I didn’t want to double back. Nor could I go to the library to farewell Professor Nash. After my flat and Daisy’s, Gabe would go there. I would post the professor my key when I found a new home.
To my surprise, Huon answered the door almost immediately after my knock. He must have been passing it and not bothered to wait for his butler or footman. His hair was messy, and he wore a blue-and-white striped dressing gown without shoes. Thankfully, the dressing gown was tied at his waist because he didn’t appear to be wearing pajamas underneath.
“Good lord, Sylvia, you look like you could do with this more than me.” He handed me the cup of coffee he’d been holding. “Come in. I have so much to tell you.”
“I can’t. I have to go.” I sipped the coffee, closing my eyes as the warm, bitter liquid hit the back of my throat. I suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired. It was the only explanation I could think of for why I let Huon draw me inside.
“Where do you have to go at this hour? It’s early.” He checked the clock on the hall table. “The shops and the library don’t open for at least another hour.”
