Free Edison Effect, The: A Professor Bradshaw Mystery (The Edison Effect) by Bernadette Pajer Page A

below?”
    “No, thank goodness. But I did see one on land. Once was enough. Coffee?”
    Bradshaw returned to the stove and accepted a mug gratefully. He’d never seen a ghost, and he didn’t care to hear about Jake’s experience, but he understood what it felt like to be haunted. They stood together drinking while outside the weather turned nasty again and sent raindrops pinging against the glass.
    “Has the technology changed much since you began diving?”
    “Oh, not with the suits. That old one still does the job. The compressors are better, though, so we can go deeper.”
    “You go down all times of year?” Bradshaw asked.
    “Oh, the temperatures below aren’t much better in summer, maybe mid-fifties on the hottest day of the year. Today, I think we measured forty-nine. As long as there’s no danger of the hoses freezing, I work. The worst is wind. The wind makes it miserable, and dangerous.”
    “Are you working here? On this dock, I mean?”
    “No, I was just testing out a new suit, making sure she’s airtight and well-fit before I go deeper. There’s a wreck in about a hundred feet of water, went down last week with all her cargo. We’ll be lightening her soon, then patching her up if she’s not too bad. Hopefully get her floating again.”
    “That takes a large crew, doesn’t it?”
    “It does, more than I have. I’ll be diving for the Alaska Company Wreckers. They have all the big equipment, the tugs and pontoons and pumps and sweepers.”
    “Do you work for other outfits often?”
    “Just Alaska. I like to keep up my skills, and the pay is top dollar.” He lifted his steaming mug toward the window. Lashed to the end of the dock was Galloway’s salvage boat, a small steamship with the profile of a tug crossed with a trawler. It looked as strong and capable as its owner. “It’s my livelihood and my home. I can’t sleep on dry land anymore. If the floor isn’t rocking, the room spins.”
    “I take it you’re a bachelor.”
    “It suits me,” he said, topping off his mug, and doing the same for Bradshaw. “I’ve got no patience for children, and no woman would tolerate my way of life.”
    “It’s a young man’s profession.”
    “That it is. You begin to lose your nerve after a certain age and so many dives, or so I’m told. But I figure I’ve got another decade at least before I hang up my gear, so I earn what I can. It never hurts to bring in a little extra. This is not a cheap business to run. I own my boat, and I’m equipped to take two men down at a time, do some minor repairs, retrieve cargo, that sort of thing. I employ six men full time, and others part-time who float between outfits.” Galloway stretched his back and moved his shoulders as if working out kinks from muscles more developed than Henry’s, and a good sight stronger than Bradshaw’s.
    “My men told me you’re here about a treasure hunt, Professor. I specialize in those, but if it’s Oscar Daulton’s invention you’re after, I can’t help you.”
    “Why not?”
    “I’ve got an exclusive contract with a client.”
    “And who is your client?”
    Galloway’s broad chest puffed a bit. “Mr. Thomas Edison of Menlo Park, New Jersey.”
    “I see. And when did you sign this contract?”
    “Monday, with his Seattle legal representative, Mr. J. D. Maddock.”
    “Monday? But Mr. Maddock has been actively searching for information regarding Daulton’s invention for many months, ever since Mr. Edison came to town, in fact.”
    “He didn’t make me a high enough offer until Monday.”
    “You were confident he would eventually make such an offer?”
    “Of course. I don’t mean to boast, Professor, but I’m about the best deep diver in the Pacific Northwest. I work almost exclusively in Puget Sound, mostly right here in Elliott Bay, so I know these waters like other men know their own backyards. When Maddock first approached, I knew he needed me, but he had to try everyone else before he realized I