ThePerfectPoison
FORTY
“I BROUGHT THE NEW VERSION OF THE DRUG WITH ME, sir.” Hulsey produced a packet from the depths of his rumpled coat. He put it on the workbench. “Thought Mr. Norcross would drop around the laboratory this morning to collect it but when he didn’t show up, I decided to deliver it myself. I know you are unable to leave your house these days.”
Ellerbeck looked at the packet, trying to fight his rising sense of despair. Allister had left two nights ago saying that he intended to follow Caleb Jones. He had not returned.
Something had gone terribly wrong, Ellerbeck thought, but he had no means of making inquiries. Allister had been the one who brought him news of the outside world. There was little he could do now that he was alone. He dared not risk contacting Scotland Yard to inquire if the body of a certain gentleman had been discovered on the streets of London. He certainly could not contact the Jones agency for assistance.
Ellerbeck had racked his brain but he could not think of anything that his son had carried on his person that would lead anyone back to his home in Ransley Square. If Allister was, indeed, dead, it was likely that the first news of it would come in the form of a report in the press of the mysterious death of an unidentified man.
“You’re certain this new version will work?” he said to Hulsey.
“Yes, indeed, sir.” Hulsey bobbed his head. “The rats are thriving. There appear to be no ill effects whatsoever. I assure you that you’ll be feeling much better in a day or two. Try it. You’ll see what I mean. Very stimulating stuff and ever so much more stable.”
Ellerbeck picked up the packet and opened it. He took a pinch and examined it closely, trying to assess it with what was left of his talent before he inhaled. He was aware of strong energies but that was all. The problem was that his senses were so badly warped now that he could no longer detect the nuances of botanical currents.
“It appears to be much more potent,” he said. A tiny spark of hope leaped inside him. Maybe it was not too late.
“Yes, indeed,” Hulsey said. “I can also assure you that in this new form it will keep much longer.”
“How long?”
“Oh, a month or two, I should think.” Hulsey surveyed the conservatory with great enthusiasm. “I say, very interesting collection you have here, sir. Mind if I stroll around and have a look?”
“Some other time,” Ellerbeck said curtly. “I’m not feeling at all well today. I’m not disposed to give tours.”
Hulsey flinched at the rebuff but recovered quickly. “Yes, of course, sir. Sorry, sir. Didn’t mean to presume.”
Ellerbeck inhaled a pinch of the powder. Nothing left to lose.
A diamond-sharp awareness blossomed inside him, driving out his anxiety. Power surged across his senses. For the first time in weeks he could feel the full force of the shifting currents that flooded the conservatory. Euphoria gripped him. Not too late, after all.
He would not only survive, he would become the most powerful member of the Order. According to Stilwell’s notes, the drug had the potential to revive a man’s potency and vigor. Stilwell had believed that it had the power to add a couple of decades to a normal life span. He would have time, he thought, to father more sons—healthy offspring—to take the place of Allister.
“You’re right, Hulsey,” he whispered, fighting to contain the sheer ecstasy that was flushing out his clogged senses. “It appears to be quite effective.”
“Yes, sir. As promised, sir.” Hulsey cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Ellerbeck, I’m afraid I must request my wages. Expenses have been quite high in the laboratory lately, what with all the new ingredients needed to perfect the formula.”
Disdain shafted through Ellerbeck, followed by amusement. “You may be a brilliant scientist, Hulsey, but Thaxter is right. You really are a shopkeeper at heart, aren’t you? Just like the apothecary.”
“Yes, sir.” Behind the lenses of his eyeglasses, Hulsey’s eyes glittered. “Just like the apothecary.”
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