Free The Future Door by Jason Lethcoe Page B

cane scabbard for support and the other gripping the three feet of razor-sharp steel, Griffin rounded the corner and walked toward the living room. He felt cold and couldn’t tell if it was because the temperature in the house had changed, or he was afraid.
    He squinted in the darkness, trying to discern any unusual shapes or movements that would alert him to the intruder’s presence. Then, just as he walked into the living room, a voice sounded from behind him.
    Griffin was so startled that he wheeled around and swung the sword at the source of the voice. There was a tremendous CLANG! and a shower of sparks as the weapon glanced off something hard and metallic. Then two figures leapt from the shadows and rushed past him. He swung his sword wildly at the smaller of the two shadows and heard a sharp cry. But the wound wasn’t enough to stop the intruders as they leapt out of the window and fled the scene.
    Moriarty’s henchmen! he thought, imagining the woman who had shot at him in Boston. He rushed to the window but was too late to catch sight of the thieves. All he could hear was a clatter of retreating footsteps on the cobblestone streets.
    When he turned back to face the room, he saw the bluish glow of Watts’s incandescent eyes staring back at him in the darkness, and Griffin thought that if there was any way a machine could look at him reproachfully, this would be it.
    â€œWould Master Griffin require anything?” Watts’s flat, mechanical voice said. Griffin noticed that Watts’s metal derby had a large dent in it, apparently made when Griffin had wildly swung his sword.
    Feeling embarrassed, Griffin dropped his sword arm to his side. “Sorry, Watts,” Griffin said. “I didn’t know it was you.”
    The gas lamps flared to life all around him. Rupert stood there, looking wild-eyed and disheveled, his thinning hair pointing up in all directions. Griffin supposed that the sound of his sword hitting Watts’s metal head must have startled him awake.
    â€œWhat the deuce is going on?” he shouted.
    But before Griffin could answer him, his uncle’s eyes automatically flicked to the opened window. With the lights on, Griffin could see for the first time just how disordered the room looked. Someone had definitely been there. “A prowler?” Griffin said, half to himself.
    But then Griffin saw something that made his heart freeze. As he walked slowly over to the fireplace mantel, he focused on a new object that hadn’t been there before.
    He reached up and took down Charlotte Pepper’s elegant teapot, the same one that she’d brought to tea earlier. And there, attached to the teapot handle and tied with red string, was a prettily folded note.
    It took a moment for Rupert to register what had happened, but when he did, his eyes grew wide and his skin paled. He gestured shakily for Griffin to hand him the note. Griffin felt sick. Someone had clearly broken into their home and stolen the time machine right out from under their noses.
    After opening the letter, he and his nephew stared at the beautiful handwriting, unable to believe what they were reading.
    Messrs. Snodgrass and Sharpe,
    I hope you’ll accept in trade for your remarkable teapot this one of my own. I do appreciate you inviting me in and leaving me to care for the premises in your absence this evening.
    The location of the time machine has eluded me for several weeks. Until tonight, I feared that you had hidden it so well that I could never hope to find it.
    However, when you hurried back into the parlor before you left, I felt that perhaps what I sought was within reach. I had just deduced its location when you returned, and had to put off taking it until you were asleep.
    Please do not hold anything against dear Mrs. Hudson for helping me break into your apartment. She was compelled to do so, by means that I am not free to discuss. I have left the key she gave me on the kitchen