Vellum and Green Vitriol
Copyright © 2007, S. Y. Affolee
The Second Conjuration
Seal XIII
Mayhew was still dusting the sculptures in the auction display room when we came down from the storage room. He looked up.
"That was quick. Did you find what you were looking for already?"
I shook my head. "Unfortunately not, Mr. Mayhew. However, I thought that it would be easier to contact that customer who bought all the books first. If he doesn't have it, then we could concentrate on searching the storage room."
"That sounds like a reasonable idea. It's easier to exhaust the easy routes first. I wouldn't want to dig around in those storage rooms unless I absolutely had to."
"Mr. Severin mentioned that he may have the customer's contact information," Rhys said.
"Of course. Mr. Severin is still in his office." Mayhew had an odd frown on his face, slightly squinty-eyed. I assumed it was his thinking expression. "But with his organization, good luck on trying to get the address."
When we headed back to Severin's office, the proprietor of the auction house was rummaging through his papers, looking somewhat harried, since the hair he had brushed over his bald spot was a bit askew.
"I must apologize for my mess," said Severin. "I really should get a secretary eventually. I was sure I had the address for Archibald Chesterfield right here on my desk, but when I came back from a telephone call, it was gone. It was as if the sheet of paper had moved on its own."
Rhys and I exchanged a glance. Rhys said, "Don't worry so much about it. Miss Talbot and I will merely make the jaunt out to Fairmont and make some inquiries."
"If you are sure about that. If I find Chesterfield's telephone number, it would save you a lot of time."
"That's all right, Mr. Severin," I told him. "I haven't been to Fairmont before. It will be a nice day trip."
Severin gave me an unbelieving glance. "Maybe it would be a nice trip during the summer, Miss Talbot, but at this time of year, I'd imagine it to be mostly rain and mud."
* * *
Outside of the Greenglass Auction House, I glanced at my watch. It was an hour until noon. "There aren't going to be any automobiles for hire since everyone is on holiday. And even if there was, we would get to Fairmont late this evening."
"Don't give up before you've tried," said Rhys. He flagged down a cab. "We'll ask around first." Once in the cab, he asked the driver, "Excuse me, I don't suppose you know of a place where we could hire the use of an automobile for a few days?"
The driver didn't even look back at us as he maneuvered his vehicle out onto the street, but he did respond. "Heading out for holiday at Cairnpapple, are you? Well, there is this place in South Greenglass that hires out autos for travelers. I can take you there if you like."
"Yes, that sounds excellent." To me, Rhys smiled smugly. "What did I tell you? With a little effort, transportation is easily within our grasp."
"You also pointed out to me that things usually aren't so easy back at the auction house," I said.
"Well, some things are easy while others not so much." He shrugged. "This was easy because automobiles are becoming ubiquitous. And we aren't so peculiar about what automobiles we will be using."
"You might not be so particular, but I don't want one that will break down in the middle of the road."
The cab driver let us out on a small street off Main in the south side of the city. There was a wide brick building here consisting of large arches which were entrances to a massive garage. A small sign at the corner of the building pointed to an unobtrusive door as the entrance. On the side of the building, the business name was painted in a bold yellow: Carruthers and Sons.
"This looks like the place," Rhys remarked as he made his way to the entrance. "Let's see if they have any transportation available."
The office to Carruthers and Sons was stark besides a desk, clear except for a telephone, and the man behind it, who looked like a boxer forced into a starched shirt. At our entrance, the man smiled, revealing a gap between two of his front teeth.
I left Rhys to it to discuss the rates and the available automobiles. There was another door besides the entrance which I assumed led into the garage. And there was one window in the office covered in grime. I could faintly see the street outside.
"Well, Mr. Lattimore," the man, who had introduced himself as Carruthers senior, said as he got up from his desk. "Why don't we go out to the garage to pick one to your liking? I'm afraid most of them are rented out to holiday travelers at the moment, but there is still a selection."
The garage surprised me. The place was clean, smelling faintly of oil and polish. Five black fiats gleamed under the overhead lights. A sixth automobile was being washed by two muscular men dressed in only trousers. I looked from them to Carruthers senior, noticing the similarity. His sons, I guessed.
"This model is very reliable," Carruthers was saying as he gestured to the fiats. "This one I recommend to all my customers if they want reliability. They're not very flashy but they do the job."
"I like cars that don't break down," I said.
Rhys gave an almost imperceptible sigh. "What is it about you and breakdowns?"
"You've never had to wait for help for a day and a half in the middle of the countryside."
"Each car is equipped with emergency tools in case a break down does happen," said Carruthers. "Granted, they would only be useful if you know how to use them in the first place."
"I'm sure it'll be easy to figure out," said Rhys.
"I wouldn't recommend a reliance on hubris, darling," I said, imitating his laconic drawl.
My traveling companion twisted his mouth in irritation. "What other vehicles do you have available?"
"There are some others out at the back of the garage. I have to warn you, we haven't gotten around to servicing some of them recently so you would have to wait until tomorrow for them. One is the sporty Alfa Romeo. The rate, however is higher although it is kind of flashy. We also have some American cars if you want to be different--we have several from the Essex line with an enclosed coach. We have one Studebaker with a canvas top. An one French automobile we did recently refurbish, a Rochet-Schneider."
I felt myself perk up. "A Rochet-Schneider?"
Rhys gave me an odd look and then said, "Perhaps you should show us the other cars you have out back."
* * *
I grinned as Rhys pulled out of the Carruthers garage. I bounced once in my seat and heard the new leather squeak. He maneuvered the Rochet-Schneider to the main road. His eyes were on the traffic, but I could tell he wasn't exactly thinking about driving.
"What is it about this automobile that has you so ecstatic?" he finally asked. "It's not especially out of the ordinary."
"That's because you were too busy paying attention to speed and gasoline and mileage. This one has brass."
"Brass?" He didn't bother hiding his disbelieving tone. "Just because you liked the brass trim, you picked this?"
"What's wrong with liking brass?"
"Well, nothing. It just makes you seem like a person who is easily distracted by shiny things. Aren't you even worried that this will break down in the middle of our journey? You seemed really worred about that before."
"I still am. But a Rochet-Schneider is fairly reliable. The company that manufactures this has been around for a while. Besides, the first automobile I ever rode in was a Rochet-Schneider. I was walking back home from work when a nice young man offered me a ride home in a similar vehicle."
Rhys quickly risked a look at me and his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "Oh, that's nice. You met a former beau in a Rochet-Schneider."
I leaned back in my seat and admired the gleaming brass headlights that peaked over the black painted hood. "You don't have to sound so sullen about it. It was just one ride, even if he did kiss well."
"I don't want to hear this."
"The ride or the kiss?"
"Both."
"Oh come on. What's wrong with riding in automobiles and kissing?"
"It distracts the driver."
For some reason, his grievous tone made me chuckle. "All right, I won't say more about the subject. We'll just have a calm drive back to the hotel to get our things and then head straight to Fairmont."
"Right."
I turned to look at him. "You do know the way there, don't you?"
"Not really. But that's why you're in the front passenger seat. You're going to help me navigate."
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