"You had no idea that Rudwick might be in danger from these secret activities?"
"Danger? Of course there was danger. But not at home in England I was in Wyoming when Rudwick was killed here; I knew nothing of it, till I read of it in Canada. It was a shock to me I fought bitterly with Rudwick over theory, and I knew he had gone to dig in Mexico, but I didn't know that he and I had the same secret. I didn't know that Rudwick was a Commission dark-lantern man; I only knew that he excelled at our profession." Mallory sighed on the foul air. His own words surprised him; he had never fully admitted these matters even to himself. "I rather envied Rudwick, I suppose. He was somewhat my elder, and he was a pupil of Buckland's."
"Buckland?"
"One of the greatest men of our field. He's gone now as well. But truth to tell, I didn't know Rudwick well. He was an unpleasant man, haughty and cold in his relations. He was at his best exploring overseas, at a good distance from decent society." Mallory wiped the back of his neck. "When I read of his death in a low brawl, I wasn't entirely surprised at the manner of it."
"Do you know if Rudwick ever knew Ada Byron?"
"No," Mallory said, surprised. "I don't know. He and I were not that highly placed in savant circlesnot at Lady Ada's level, certainly! Perhaps they were introduced, but I think I should have known it had she favored him."
"He was brilliant, you said."
"But not galante."
Fraser changed the subject. "Oliphant seems to believe that Rudwick was killed by the Texians."
"I don't know about any Texians," Mallory said angrily. "Who knows anything about
Texas? A damned wilderness, seas and continents away! If the Texians killed poor Rudwick, I suppose the Royal Navy should shell their ports in reprisal, or something of the sort." He shook his head. The whole foul business, which had once seemed so daring and clever to him, now seemed something inglorious and vile, little more than a low cheat. "We were fools to get involved in that Commission's work, Rudwick and I. A few rich lords, scheming in camera to harass the Yankees. The Yankee republics are already tearing at each other's throats, over slavery or provincial rights or some other damned foolishness! Rudwick died because of that, when he might be alive now, and digging up marvels. It makes me ashamed!"
"Some might say it was your patriotic duty. That you did it for the interests of England."
"I suppose so," Mallory said, shaking himself, "but it's a great relief to speak out on the matter, after so long a silence."
Fraser did not seem much impressed by the story. Mallory surmised it was an old and tiresome tale to Inspector Fraser of the Special Branch, or perhaps a mere fragment of larger and more shadowy misdoings. But Fraser did not pursue the matter of politics; he confined himself to the facts of crime. "Tell me about the first attack on your own person."
"That came at the Derby. I saw a veiled lady within a hired cab, treated dreadfully by a man and woman, whom I took to be criminalsthe woman being one Florence Russell Bartlett, as I presume you know?"
"Yes. We are searching most vigorously for Mrs. Bartlett."
"I could not identify her male companion. But I may have overheard his name: 'Swing.' Or 'Captain Swing.' "
Fraser seemed a touch surprised. "Did you tell that fact to Mr. Oliphant?"
"No." Mallory, feeling himself on thin ice, said nothing more.
"Perhaps that's just as well," Fraser said, after a thoughtful pause. "Mr. Oliphant's a bit fanciful at times, and 'Captain Swing' is quite a famous name in conspiracy; a mythical personage, much like 'Ned Ludd,' or 'General Ludd.' The Swing bands were Luddites of the countryside, years ago. Arsonists mostly, rick-burners. But in the Time of Troubles, they grew savage, and killed a deal of the landed gentry, and burned down their fine mansions."
"Ah," said Mallory. "Do you think this fellow is a Luddite, then?"
"There are no more Luddites," Fraser said calmly. "They're as dead as your dinosaurs. I rather suspect some mischievous antiquary. We have this fellow's description, we have our methodswhen we take him, we'll quiz him on his taste in false identities."
"Well, this fellow's certainly no rural laborerhe's some sort of Frenchified race-track dandy. When I defended the lady, he went for me with a stiletto! Nicked me in the leg. I suppose I'm lucky that the blade was not venomed."
"Perhaps it was," Fraser said. "Most poisons are far less potent than the public supposes "
"Well, I knocked the rascal down, and drove them off from their victim. The tout swore twice that he would kill me. 'Destroy' me, was the word he used Then I realized that the lady could be only Lady Ada Byron. She began to talk in a very strange manneras if drugged, or frightened witless She begged me to escort her to the Royal Enclosure, but as we approached the Royal Box, she escaped me by a trickwithout so much as a word of thanks for my pains."
Mallory paused, fingering the contents of his pockets. "I suppose that's the gist of the matter, sir. Shortly after, I won a good deal of money, wagered on a steam-gurney built by a friend of mine. He gave me very useful information, and it changed me in a moment from a modest scholar to a man of means." Mallory tugged his beard. "Great as that change has been, it seemed much the lesser wonder at the time."