The Unpleasantness at Baskerville Hall (Reeves & Worcester Steampunk Mysteries Book 4) Read Online Free PDF

sooner had Henry closed the window when the dinner gong sounded.
    “Is that the dinner gong?” I asked. “Or has one of the maids escaped?”
    Everyone laughed, except Lady Julia, who I suspected had taken an oath at an early age not to smile in public.
    Presently, the door to the dining room opened and everyone began to file through. Except Lady Julia, who lurked in the doorway.
    “A word, Roderick,” she said as I approached. “You too, Lily.”
    I swallowed hard. Lady Julia waited until everyone else was out of earshot.
    “I do not know what you are up to, young man,” said Lady Julia. “But I am watching you. Both of you. Come, Lily, dear. You will sit next to me at dinner. I feel as if I have been neglecting you of late.”
    ~
    I had hoped to sit next to Emmeline during dinner but, with everyone already seated, I found myself down the other end of the table, wedged between T. Everett Spurgeon and Henry. Emmeline would have to face her inquisition alone.
    “You look like a man who knows a good investment when he sees one, Roderick,” said T. Everett.
    “I should say so,” I said. “I might take a spin around the moors tomorrow. See if the old nose can sniff out a gem or two. I thought I caught a slight whiff of emerald on the ride over.”
    “Really? Well, I know of something even better,” said T. “A sure-fire winner just crying out for a little extra seed money. Ain’t I right, Henry?”
    “I’ve been trying to get the governor to invest,” said Henry.
    “In what?” I asked.
    “Ride-in movies,” said T. Everett, writing the words in the air with a stubby finger. “They’re really taking off back home. You ever heard of Thomas Edison?”
    “No, I can’t say that I have.”
    “He is the devil, Roderick. A greedier or more ruthless man has never lived. He’s sewn up the movie industry in New York. He wants to control everything — from the cameras you use to shoot the movies to the theatres where you show them. Anyone stands in his way, they get sued or bought out. That’s why people like me are looking to move out of New York.”
    T. Everett paused while a footman placed a bowl of soup in front of him.
    “Edison may have the East Coast sewn up, but he’s nobody out west. Or over here. And when you think about it, why do you need a theatre to put on a picture show? All you need is a screen and a projector.
    “That’s the beauty of the ride-in,” continued T. “It’s like a travelling show. All you need is a projector and a roll of white canvas. You travel the country, set up your equipment on the edge of town, tell all the folks to come on by and charge them a nickel a time. You don’t even have to provide any seats because they bring their own.”
    “They bring their own seats?” I said.
    “Their horses,” said T. “That’s why it’s called a ride-in. And the best bit is you make more on the concessions than you do from admission.”
    “What’s a concession?”
    “Food and drink. And, boy, do those horses eat. We make as much money on the rolled oats as we do on the popcorn!”
    “It seems a corker to me,” said Henry. “No draughty theatres to buy or maintain.”
    “What about the weather?” I asked. “I can see these ride-ins being very popular in the sunnier climes, but what about when it’s raining?”
    T. Everett positively beamed. “That’s the really exciting bit. And why England is just perfect for this new development. The fly-in.”
    “With zeppelins,” added Henry.
    “That’s right,” said T. “It may be raining on the ground, but it’s sunny above the clouds. Can’t you just see the possibilities, Roderick? All those zeppelins parked high above the clouds, enjoying the sun and Quarrywood’s next hit movie.”
    “What about the screen?” I asked.
    “We use the side of a zeppelin!” said T.
    “Or a cloud,” said Henry. “If it’s one of those white, fluffy ones.”
    “The possibilities are endless,” said T. “England’s the richest