winked at Parnell. “Do you smoke it?” No reply. “Tough audience. So, about those arms?”
The poor man glanced at his own shirt sleeves. “Oh right, yes, the spy arms of the Leviacrum. Do you have anything specific?”
Meredith handed him the peeping tom’s pocket watch. “Exitus acta probat.”
“The result validates the deeds. This is the symbol of the original founders of the Leviacrum. My grandfather worked for one, a chap named Hector Polperro, a landowner of enormous wealth. It was called, ah, let me see...I think it was The Icarus Club back then. Something Greek at any rate. No, no, it was The Atlas Club. See here, that’s what the symbol represents—the great tower supporting the globe takes the place of Atlas, the giant of Greek mythology who held up the sky on his shoulders.”
He studied the brass casing under his spyglass, then checked the underside. “Number eight-two-six? Hmm, I’m guessing this doesn’t open like a regular pocket watch.” He tugged at the two halves, then tried the winder. “Nope, just as I thought—won’t budge.”
“So how do we get in?” Sonja asked.
He shrugged. “Beats me. My grandfather had one just like it, only the number on his was one-one-seven. No idea what that meant or what was inside, but I can tell you it wasn’t a timepiece. He carried it everywhere, but I never once saw him open it. And he was a stickler for knowing the time. His regular pocket watch looked nothing like this item.” He shook the object, then held it against his ear. “That’s all I have, I’m afraid. The engraving is quite a famous symbol, but its origins won’t be explored in any book, I can tell you that.”
“Why not?”
“Because no writer would be stupid enough to dig into the Leviacrum’s true origins, and no publisher would be dumb enough to print his findings, at least not in this country. Few people know much about the original Atlas Club, any more than they do about the current administration up there in the tower. It was extremely hush-hush back then, and it’s been a well-kept secret for the best part of a century. Not exactly something you can research for a school project.”
“I see.” Meredith slid half a crown into the shop’s charity tin for homeless veterans. “Does it still exist? The Atlas Club, I mean.”
Parnell shrugged. “I dare say. Who knows? Um, where exactly did you get this?” He gave her the object back, then ran a hand through his hair.
“Niflheim,” her kid sister replied.
“Norway?”
“No, Piccadilly.” Sonja’s sarcasm suddenly seemed rude and inappropriate, even to her, so she bit her lip. “Sorry. I mean yes, Norway. We were a stone’s throw from that horrendous wave you’ve no doubt heard of.”
“Yes, I was just going to say—”
“The item belonged to a sleazy, rotten—” Sonja cut short her vulgar description when Meredith pressed a finger to her own lips and motioned for them to leave. “Let’s just say he made a rather poor showing as a conker. Bye, Parnell.”
“Huh?”
“Much obliged, Parnell. Don’t read any more of that smut now,” Meredith called over her shoulder as she hurried out, Sonja in tow. The next tram was on its way, and with it being after five o’clock, they’d have to wait another half hour for the next one.
“Bye, Son—Bye, Mer—”
They were outside before he could finish. Already the light was beginning to wane, and a fresh fog bank glowed silver-yellow to the west—the beams from several Gannet airships roving through the mist, probably searching for a vessel in distress. The gas lighter and his dependable old bulldog made their way up the seafront, illuminating the tall streetlamps one by one, while a convoy of steam-powered cars flying Suffragette banners and honking their horns clattered by, making the dog bark like crazy.
By the time Meredith and her sister took their seats on the half-empty tram, Parnell had shut up shop. He stood outside the front door wearing his beige duffel, leather gloves and bowler hat, and upturned his collar to help ward off the chill. A dully dressed young woman with a broken boot heel limped toward him up the pavement. When she saw him, she waved madly and quickened her pace. He waved back, sprinted into her arms and lifted her as high as he could, spinning her round and round, to her immense delight.
Meredith swallowed self-consciously, trying to suppress the surprising ache that swelled inside her. She looked to Sonja, who was also watching the blissful couple. The ensuing