Chapter Sixteen #2
Vesper nodded, then watched as Maximilian made a beeline for a group of well-dressed men standing together and talking.
She looked around the aviary, keen to do the same, but it seemed everyone was already in tight groups of conversation.
Small talk had never been her strong suit, and she suddenly wished she had her notebook, or a list of prepared questions she could reference.
She’d hoped she might find Ada again, but the young woman must have been pulled away, because she was nowhere in immediate sight.
The only other person she recognized was Mrs. Oelrich.
Vesper shifted. She wasn’t especially keen to speak to the woman—her ensorcelled face still unnerved her—but she reasoned that she’d have to start somewhere.
She’d just started in Mrs. Oelrich’s direction when she bumped into Professor O’Gilvie.
“Oh, pardon me.”
The professor smiled. “The fault’s mine, young lady. I was distracted.”
Vesper followed his gaze. He’d been watching a tiny reddish bird with golden-brown feathers on a branch a few feet away. He gestured toward it.
“It’s curious,” he went on. “There are over one hundred different species of sparrows across the world, but that one is the smallest of them all. Passer eminibey, the chestnut sparrow. They’re quite interesting birds, wouldn’t you agree?”
Vesper nodded in agreement, mostly to be polite. “I’ve always thought sparrows were fairly ordinary birds, not particularly special.”
“They’re actually exceptionally talented creatures,” said the professor. “They’re resourceful, able to adapt to most climates, which is why there are so many different species all over the world. What they’re best known for, however, are their problem-solving skills!”
Vesper looked up. “Problem-solving?”
Professor O’Gilvie nodded, clearly pleased to have garnered her full attention. “Ornithologists have observed sparrows employing basic reason and logic to find solutions to everyday problems. As I said, they’re quite talented, if often underestimated.”
Vesper assessed the little brown bird with new eyes. She could relate to the chestnut sparrow in more ways than one.
“Thank you, Professor.”
“Of course.” Professor O’Gilvie glanced over his shoulder.
“I believe I should probably make my way to the other side of the house. Enjoy the aviary!” He offered Vesper a final tip of his bowler hat before making his way toward the exit.
Vesper’s eyes panned the aviary again. It seemed Mrs. Oelrich had already left, as had most of the event’s guests.
She felt a pang of regret, then annoyance that she’d allowed the professor to distract her.
Eventually, she spotted Maximilian. It appeared he was done with his own fact gathering, because he was now standing alone with his arms clasped behind his back, studying a large hawk perched on a nearby tree.
A fond smile touched Vesper’s face. It was fitting that the sorcerer would like the bird.
If she could see herself in the small and resourceful chestnut sparrow, then why wouldn’t Maximilian see himself in a large, powerful bird of prey?
A hawk and a sparrow, she mused. A doomed pairing if there ever was one.
Maximilian looked up as she approached. “Any luck?”
Vesper shook her head. “I was thwarted by an ornithologist.”
Maximilian chuckled. “I didn’t fare much better.
The gentleman I spoke to seemed to know about as much as we do, if not less.
But I’ve been thinking about what you said on our way here, about the patent…
” He turned to face her. “I don’t think the fact that it was withdrawn the day Francis died is a coincidence, and I think it adds credibility to the theory that his death and that machine are linked. ”
“I still don’t want to rule Bess Duxley out,” said Vesper.
“I have another theory,” said Maximilian. “What if Francis and Belver had initially agreed to be partners, and then had a falling-out? If Francis threatened to find another partner…”
“That’s a motive for Belver to want Francis dead,” said Vesper.
“If he threatened Francis and forced him to rescind his patent application, then he could just take the Gladwell Machine’s design and resubmit it under his own name once Francis was out of the way.
” She paused, thoughtful. “The police didn’t find the prototype of the Gladwell Machine in the museum either.
He might even have it.” She cast a wistful look toward the house.
If I could get inside. If I could just look in Charles Belver’s office …
“We need a linchpin,” said Maximilian. “Something that undeniably ties Belver not just to Francis Gladwell, but to his death. I think that’s the next stage of our investigation.”
The clouds above shifted, allowing fresh sunlight to pierce through the aviary’s glass. Vesper fanned herself, suddenly warm. Maximilian looked up, squinting.
“We should probably make our way to the reception,” he suggested.
Together, they headed toward the exit. There was no footman waiting outside anymore, and when Maximilian tried to open the door, the handle wouldn’t budge.
“That’s strange…” He tried the handle again. “It’s locked.” He concentrated a moment and held his hand over the door handle before trying again. “I’m not able to ensorcell it either.”
Vesper’s brows knitted. “Why on earth would someone lock—?”
Her words were cut off by a long screech. Vesper whirled around as a large, winged creature came careering toward them.