The Parliament of Blood by Justin Richards Page B

the redoubtable Mrs Eggerton,’ he assured George. ‘Now, off you go. And I pray this episode will not be too traumatic.’
    The elderly Nathaniel Blake was wedged uncomfortably into George’s desk chair, a blanket over his shoulders like a shawl, examining the photographs from the archive through a magnifying glass. He seemed happy to be left to his work, confessing that so far he had found nothing untoward about any of the photographs.
    â€˜Let me know at once if you do,’ Sir William said.
    â€˜No idea, these young whippersnappers,’ Blake rasped in reply. ‘No idea at all how to compose a picture. Bad as Fox Talbot himself. Might as well be photographing a window.’ His grumbles lapsed into mutters.
    Sir William returned to his own office, leaving the door to George’s room half open so he could easily glance across the corridor and make sure Blake was all right.
    â€˜No peace for the wicked, it seems,’ he said to the tall figure that stood waiting for him.
    â€˜Indeed not,’ Lord Ruthven replied. ‘Forgive me, but I shall not disturb you for long.’
    â€˜Your men came for the canopic chest,’ Sir William assured him. ‘As you can see.’ He described the scratches on the floorboards with the toe of his shoe – the scratches the men had made ineptly manhandling the heavy casket.
    â€˜Indeed. I am told that it is now safe and sound at the Club, together with the sarcophagus. And four of the canopic jars.’
    â€˜Then I trust you are satisfied.’ Sir William held open the door, but Lord Ruthven made no effort to leave.
    â€˜I will be,’ he said. ‘Just as soon as I have the fifth jar.’
    Sir William frowned. ‘The
fifth
jar? There is no fifth jar.’
    â€˜Oh I assure you there is.’
    â€˜No.’ Sir William shook his head. ‘I opened the casket myself. Four jars only. As is usual I believe.’
    â€˜But there is a fifth compartment in the chest.’
    Sir Williams’ eyes narrowed. ‘The chest that, from your words just now, I think you have not yet seen. So how can you possibly know there is space for a fifth jar?’
    Lord Ruthven hesitated. ‘I – it was described to me.’
    â€˜Well, I can assure you again there is no fifth jar. Or if there is, I have no idea where it might be.’
    Lord Ruthven stared back at Sir William for several moments, his expression unreadable. ‘Then I am mistaken,’ he said at last. ‘But should you happen to find a fifth jar or discover evidence of one, you will let me know?’
    â€˜Of course. Good day to you.’
    â€˜And to you.’ Lord Ruthven walked briskly away, leaving Sir William alone with his thoughts in the doorway of his office.
    Before he could arrange those thoughts into a shape, he was aware of a figure standing in the corridor, just outside George’s office. Nathaniel Blake.
    The blanket had slipped from one of Blake’s shoulders so it hung across him vaguely like a toga. The man was staring down the corridor, past Sir William, slack-jawed.The flesh of his neck wobbled where it bulged over the collar and Sir William realised that the man’s whole body was trembling. Blake raised a hand, pointing down the corridor in the direction Lord Ruthven had just gone.
    â€˜That man …’ he said, voice hoarse and throaty.
    â€˜Lord Ruthven, what of him?’ Sir William walked quickly over to Blake, worried he might be about to have a seizure he was shaking so much.
    â€˜That man,’ Blake repeated. ‘That was
him
.’
    â€˜I don’t understand.’ Sir William gently took Blake’s elbow and led him back into George’s office.
    â€˜I told Archer about him. Came to see Fox Talbot, tried to stop his research. Over thirty years ago.’
    â€˜Lord Ruthven? I suppose it’s possible.’
    Blake was clutching at Sir William’s sleeve. ‘But – I