His Clockwork Canary Read Online Free PDF

but the Mechanics were
so
fantastical and mysterious, many thought them an urban legend. “You’re telling me
     that you have personal connections with Her Majesty’s Mechanics?”
    “I
am
a Mechanic.”
    Highly trained, highly covert agents who “fixed” sensitive and controversial matters
     for the British government and its sovereign. It’s not that Jules didn’t have the
     keen intellect and military training. “But—”
    “My leg.” Jules quirked an enigmatic smile. “I manage.”
    Blimey.
Simon could scarcely believe his ears. “How long—”
    “Since my recovery.”
    “Then you are not retired.”
    “Oh, but I am. Officially.”
    Simon shoved a hand through his hair. “If you were recruited upon techno-surgical
     recovery, then you have been operating undercover for six years. Why did you not tell
     me?”
    “Because it was not sanctioned.”
    “And now?”
    Jules thumbed a switch on the knob of his cane and Simon watched, fascinated, as the
     walking stick retracted to the length of a screwdriver. “Although I consider myself
     fairly invincible, I am not a magician. Should I fail upon this mission, I shall be
     stuck in the 1960s along with our not-so-dear and troublesome cousin Briscoe.” Jules’s
     expression darkened. “Papa died believing me to be a struggling writer, racked with
     demons and wrestling with addictions. If I do not return . . . I’d prefer you, Mother,
     and Amelia to remember me in kinder regards.”
    Simon struggled to make sense of his brother’s words.
    “Professor Maximus Merriweather holds the key to my futuristic voyage,” Jules said,
     whilst buttoning his coat. “And he, I have learned, is in Australia. Should there
     be a dire reason, you can reach me using the tele-talkie.”
    Simon glanced at the advanced device burning a hole in his hand and his ever-curious
     mind. “A wireless signal that transmits over fifteen thousand kilometers?”
    “Lest you forget, the Mods put a man on the moon.”
    “Are you saying the Mechanics have recruited an original Peace Rebel? A twentieth-century
     scientist? An engineer? Someone from NASA? The GPO? Wait. You are traveling to speak
     with Professor Merriweather?
The
Professor Merriweather?”
    “A difficult man to track and even more difficult to engage.”
    Simon bristled with envy. Merriweather was a legendary physicist and cosmologist.
     A Mod who’d preached about the wonders and downfalls of the future before disappearing
     with his young daughter in a bid for safety and anonymity. Someone who would understand,
     support, and—given his education and origin—possess the knowledge to perhaps advance
     and enhance Simon’s Project Monorail. “What I wouldn’t give for an hour alone with
     that genius.”
    “Yes, well, I require more than an hour,” Jules said, “and should Merriweather slip
     my grip, you will have a Houdinian at your disposal.”
    Before Simon could remark, Jules pushed on. “The tele-talkie should function for as
     long as I’m in this dimension. After that . . .” He grasped Simon’s shoulder in an
     affectionate squeeze. “I suppose we shall have to rely upon our twin sensibilities.”
     He smiled, then stepped back. “Good luck in your quest, brother.”
    A thousand questions crowded the tip of Simon’s tongue, but he stood speechless as
     Jules disappeared before his very eyes.
    L ONDON
    He appeared out of nowhere, pushing in behind Willie just as she unlocked her door,
     forcing his way inside her lodgings before she could engage the customized clockwork
     safety lock.
    On instinct, she grabbed the first weapon within her reach and whirled.
    The intruder blocked her swing, and the bronze Buddha with the clock in his fat belly
     flew out of her hand, crashing into her new electric table lamp. The glass shade and
     incandescent bulb shattered, time stopped, and Willie’s bravado wavered. Physical
     contact had been brief. Not long or focused enough to effectively