2 Spirit of Denial by Kate Danley Page A

Immediately, she heard Phineas command his servant to throw his body against the door.
    Down the stairs she ran and was deposited in a large room.  Sure enough, the basement held the kitchen, laundry, and servants' quarters.  It looked like it had not been used in decades.  Cobwebs and dirt covered every surface.
    In the center of the kitchen, where downstairs staff should have taken their daily meals, was a candlelit table.  Three picture frames sat in a circle facing in.  Two were of Violet and Pauline.  The third was empty.  Between each of the frames was a scarab matching the one she wore.  In the center was a piece of ancient meat which looked like something left in the sun.
    And then she realized what it was.  It was the queen's heart.
    She heard a great crash and a sound like the servant was falling down the flight of stairs.  Moments after the crash, she could hear feet pounding down the stairway.
    She grabbed the heart and she ran, opening up the rusted door of the service entrance, and out to freedom.

Chapter Twenty
    A hansom cab was just turning the corner as she ran out to the street.  She hailed it desperately and did not even let it fully stop before she leapt in.  She shouted at the driver.  "Go!  Swiftly!  Go!"
    She peered out of the window and saw Phineas Stokeman run out of the house in hot pursuit.  He looked right and then looked left, but then caught Clara's eye before she was able to duck out of sight.  He furiously searched for another cab to follow her, but the street was empty.
    The horse's feet clomped on the cobble stone at a brisk pace.  Clara tapped the roof of the cab and a small window opened.  A tall, gaunt looking man with a shock of red hair beneath a black top hat, a red mustache, and friendly, but concerned, brown eyes peered down at her.
    "Thank you, driver," Clara said.
    "Sure thing, ma'am.  Seems you're in a bit of a hurry," he said in a lilting brogue.
    "Indeed," she replied, catching her breath.  "It is a matter of the utmost importance." She gave him the address for Dr. Van Flemming and added, "If you can get me there with haste, I promise that you shall be well rewarded."
    "Very good, misses," he said.  "You can count on me."  Clara felt the cab lurch as he quickened his horse's pace.
    Now that she was out of danger, she relaxed her fingers and looked down at object she clutched in her hand.  How strange that this small, insignificant lump once kept a queen alive, that even now it contained vestiges of her power. She took her handkerchief out of her pocket and wrapped the dried, petrified heart in it, before placing it in her pocket. 
    The cab finally pulled up in front of Dr. Van Flemming's residence.  Clara exited and paid generously for her trip.  Then she added more and said, "I need you to go to the house of Mr. Wesley Lowenherz."  She pulled out a scrap of paper and a pencil and wrote it down for the cab driver.  "Bring him here immediately.  Do not leave until he is in your company.  Tell him that Clara is in desperate need and requires his presence.  Tell him it is a matter of life and death."
    The cab driver shifted uncomfortably.  "Are you sure you don't want me to get a constable, misses?"
    Clara shook her head.  "I'm afraid that this matter is far beyond the jurisdiction of the police."
    "That seems like a dangerous matter for a woman such as yourself to have to face alone."
    She placed her hand upon the arm of the kind cab driver.  "I am afraid my course is quite set.  The greatest aid you can render me in my hour of need is to fetch Mr. Lowenherz with all possible speed."
    The cab driver tipped his hat.  "Very well, misses."  He gave the reins a smart flick and with an authoritative, "Git up!" he and his cab were careening down the street.
    Clara hoped that it would be fast enough.  She turned back to the house.  The front door was ajar.  Her spirit was filled with foreboding.  There was no way that Phineas could have arrived