Hearts of Smoke and Steam Read Online Free PDF Page A

bit, but finally told her there was a man out in Brooklyn who might be able to help her. “He's a Frenchman, and a bit…well…mad, really,” he had said. “I'm not sure that he could actually do anything. But if you're willing to take the trip out there to see him, his store is open Saturday afternoon…”
    Sarah had assured him that she was, and that the jeweler, who also lived in Brooklyn, should let the Frenchman know that she would be taking the ferry out to see him in the late afternoon.
    She had actually been given hope that someone could help her. The fact that he was available on her day off was one of the many things that had made today seem so miraculous—right up until she had found the padlock on her door.
    Sarah hadn't visited Brooklyn since the disastrous events at the bridge, but part of her was quite excited to return. She had never ridden the ferry across the East River before, and even that journey was something she was quite looking forward to.
    After giving it a final squeeze, Sarah placed the metal heart back into the suitcase and pulled out the leather-bound notebook. She ran her fingers over the image of a magnifying glass that had been embossed into the cover.
    The journal had belonged to the Sleuth, and for the most part the notes in the book were as cryptic as Wickham himself had been. But it was the final scribble that she had spent hours poring over since she had lifted the book from the Automaton's shattered body: “Section 106—Darby had made Sarah's dream come true. Alexander lied.”
    Sarah had found a note in her father's closet with the same reference, and the Sleuth had clearly taken that clue and uncovered something more about it. Sarah frowned as she once again realized that she would never see Wickham or Darby ever again…The shocking feelings of loss that came with the remembrance of their passing came less frequently now than they had, but the feelings had yet to diminish. In fact, their infrequency made them all the more intense.
    She supposed that soon enough they would fade, and her memories of the old men would be like those of her mother—faded faces and a longing ache for a world that she could never return to.
    Written in the pages above the note were a number of other cryptic scribbles including addresses and references to the Automaton's “ascendency.” She knew that Darby had intended for the mechanical man to take over as leader of the Paragons after his death, and it was her father's own ambitions that had led to Tom's downfall and eventual destruction.
    And somewhere out in the world there was still the unsolved mystery of what had become of the Automaton's other body. It had been the theft of that device from Darby's lab that triggered the events that had shattered Sarah's life.
    A commotion in the corridor broke her concentration. She put the book back into the case and closed it before she stood up and walked to the apartment door. When she flung it open she found, as she had suspected, Mr. Grieves standing in the hallway. He had changed out of his robes and was wearing something almost respectable enough to be called clothing.
    He was still stooped over, and obviously worse for wear from having dragged himself up three flights of stairs. He had collected the open padlocks on his way up, and they sat on the floor nearby.
    Sarah tried to make herself look threatening. “What do you want?”
    “I want you out of this building, trollop,” he replied, shaking a fist at her.
    “Well, I'm not leaving. I've paid up through the middle of the month. That's this next Thursday, and it's mine until then, no matter what either you or Mrs. Brooks have to say about it.”
    “And you'll have to take it up with the old lady. She's tougher than me, I can tell you that. But in the meantime I'll have my key ring back.”
    Sarah slammed the door shut without a word and went to the kitchen counter. The key ring was sitting there, and Sarah unscrewed the bolt and began to pull