Chapter 1 #2
Taking possession of the Parasol Grappler, Margaret led Helena to the rear wall of her workshop, which was covered from floor to ceiling by a three-tiered bookcase.
Each tier was its own balcony, partitioned by scrolled wrought-iron railings and accessible via a spiral staircase.
For the purposes of today’s test, the third balcony would serve as the entrapped heiress’ second-floor window at the asylum.
With methodical concision, she instructed Helena on the use of her invention and then provided a practical demonstration.
Once Helena was confident enough to give it a go, they proceeded with the official test.
Margaret made her way to the bottom of the spiral staircase, carefully positioning her shoes on the lowermost step and taking hold of the iron railing.
She pressed a button obscured on the finial shaped like a kitten with a ball of yarn, and the step beneath her began to ascend.
Following the spiral’s curvature, the stairs escalated to the third tier, where she disembarked, stepping onto the balcony.
“Commence the test and run through all functions, starting with basic canopy deployment.”
Even from her higher perch, Helena’s eye roll was discernible. “I think I can manage to open a parasol, Maggie.”
“A test that is not thorough—”
“Can never be accurate. I know, I know. Proceeding with canopy deployment.”
Helena pressed Button A, and the parasol’s silken canopy opened.
Closing the parasol again, she flipped it to grasp the opposite end, so that the curved wooden handle was upright.
With a push of Button B, the handle separated into a steel grappling hook.
Helena grinned, took aim, and pressed Button C, shooting the hook into the air via spring-loaded propulsion.
A trio of grappler claws caught the railing and clamped down on the iron, latching securely and forming a tether to the ground with a retractable cord emerging from the parasol pole.
Margaret nodded, pleased but not yet ready to hail the device a success. Not until they determined if it would bear the combined weight of two ladies.
Opening the parasol once more, Helena placed the canopy upside down on the floor.
She stepped inside the canopy, distributing her weight between two of the steel ribs.
Securing a firm hold of the pole, she pressed Button D, and the cord began to retract, hoisting the canopy and Helena off the ground.
When she reached the third-tier balcony where Margaret awaited, playing the part of the imprisoned heiress, Helena pressed Button D twice in rapid succession and the parasol halted midair. “Going down, m’lady?”
“If it’s most convenient.” Assisted by Helena, Margaret hiked her skirts and slipped over the balustrade.
Slowly. Cautiously. The movement aggravated the pain that resided in her ribs and low back, not enough to incapacitate, but enough to noticeably increase her discomfort.
Breathing steadily, she positioned her shoes on the parasol’s unoccupied steel ribs and wrapped her arms around Helena’s waist.
The canopy held fast, and Margaret grinned. She’d wager Lady Bricabrack didn’t know her silken threads possessed twice the tensile strength as high-grade steel—despite her being oh-so-properly trained.
Within a matter of seconds, the parasol descended at a controlled velocity, returning them to the floor quite safely.
Helena cheered, hazel eyes agleam. “Hurrah! Well done, Maggie! This invention is a lark. And wonderfully versatile. Just imagine how handy it would’ve been last winter when I investigated that quack of a baron who fancied himself a physician, selling castor oil as a botanical curative for all ailments.
Lord Yakov’s Elixir, indeed! Why, I could’ve accessed the upper windows venting his warehouse instead of standing in the snow to pick the lock. ”
Margaret stepped out of the parasol before retorting, “From what I recall of Jane’s written report, my Needle-Case Lockpicker Automatic served you quite well, dispatching said lock in under two minutes and thereby giving you plenty of time to acquire sufficient evidence to secure Baron Yakov’s arrest.”
“True, but using this to scale the building would’ve been more fun by far.
Almost as exhilarating as climbing a tree.
” Helena gracefully disembarked the canopy, and with the press of Button E, released the grappler from the iron railing.
Automatically, the three claws reassembled into a singular wooden handle as the cord retracted into the pole, rewinding the spring mechanism in the process, leaving her friend holding what appeared to be nothing more than a rather elegant, but quite ordinary, parasol.
“I do wish you’d join us in the field, Maggie.
Just once. On a case requiring less exertion and fewer hazards.
I’d love for you to see your inventions in action. Won’t you reconsider?”
Margaret angled away from Helena, suppressing a sigh as she glanced at the wheelchair required to convey her home.
She couldn’t blame her friend for posing the question.
After all, it was due to Margaret’s own reticence that Helena failed to comprehend the ramifications of her request. One couldn’t blame someone for not knowing what they’d never been told.
But neither could Margaret—knowing the extent of her physical condition—reconsider what had already been quite thoroughly considered and deemed ill-advised.
Here, strategically placed in the workshop like an unseen cog among the shadowed windings of a larger machine, Margaret could help without risk of becoming a hinderance, or worse—a hazard.
“I appreciate the sentiment, Helena, truly.” Beckoning her worktable with the remote controller, Margaret lowered into the attached chair. “But this is where I belong.”