Grace and Disgrace by Kayne Milhomme

chemicals you were referring to are actually combustible—” Tuohay caught Eliza’s glare and cut himself short.
    “Are we through?” Eliza asked.
    “Yes.”
    “And the plans for tomorrow?”
    “I will be interviewing Father Donnelly tomorrow in Plymouth,” said Tuohay. “Leaving quite early.”
    “I am sorry I cannot join you for that,” said Eliza, “I have tea with the production manager at the Boston Athenaeum. But I will be available shortly thereafter.”
    Tuohay nodded. “Excellent.” He turned to Eldredge. “And you?”
    “Heading to mum’s in less than an hour, in fact,” said Eldredge. “Dinner and such. But I will be back tomorrow morning at first light to join you for the trip to Plymouth.”
    Eliza leaned forward, her eyes on Tuohay. “And for the remainder of tonight? I may be heading out with some friends.” She paused. “Well, actors. But they can be entertaining. You are welcome to join us.”
    “As enthralling as that sounds, I will have to pass.” He took the codex from Eldredge and thumped it with a fist. “I must visit the dispensary, and then convert my hotel room into an operating workshop. I would like to give this a go, if I may.”
    Eliza smiled. “Just make sure to decode the message before you burn down the building, alright?”
    “I have to concur,” Eldredge added.
    “Of course.” Tuohay turned his gaze back to the book. “Mary mentioned that a puzzle would lead to the diamond… And I would not want to permanently char the one item possibly holding the clues.”

Visitor
     
     
    The pale candlelight flickered in the sudden breeze, stirring the shadows of Tuohay’s hotel bedchamber. The moan of the wind tugged Tuohay from his dreamlike state until he finally woke, the darkness meeting his blurry vision.  He leaned up and spit red into a china bowl on the floor, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief from the nightstand.
    With a grunt he reached across his chest to the awaiting flask, his fingers shying away from the low-burning candle beside him. The metal of the flask felt unusually cold to the touch, but the liquor was strong with the welcome scent of Highland whiskey. Wetting his lips, he became aware of something unnatural in his surroundings. His eyes dug into the thick shadows.
    The room remained silent, the inky blackness impenetrable. Inanimate objects breathed in the darkness beyond the candlelight, shivering and creaking in the language of the night. Decanters, cups, and bowls created a crumbling keep in the shadows of a nearby table, surrounded by a mass of invaders—a pair of alcohol burners, a pile of matches, thimbles of liquids, heaps of granular oddities, and other laboratory equipment.
    Tuohay focused beyond these on a slight movement near the drapes.
    “Who’s there?” he demanded.
    A dark form slid to the drapes, the clicking of boots upon the wood floor breaking the silence. A brief glint of moonlight followed the uninvited guest out the open window, exposing a splash of olive. Tuohay swung off the bed in pursuit.
    “Stop!”
    He landed on his lame leg and stumbled into the bureau. Grabbing his cane from atop the bureau he strode to the window and peered out. A deserted courtyard was within leaping distance and beyond that an iron gate separating the hotel grounds from the desolate road. Farther still were the south harbor and its multitude of warehouses.
    Tuohay’s breath caught in his throat as he limped to the table. The code book was there, closed. “I left it open,” he whispered, his memory a jumble. “But the sickness came on so quick, I cannot be sure.”
    Tuohay grabbed his coat and pulled out his watch. It was nearly four in the morning.
    Tuohay fell back on the bed and pressed the back of his hand against his forehead. He was in a cold sweat. His stomach twisted and a burning sensation rose into his throat. Grabbing the china bowl he vomited into it. He wiped his mouth, pushed the bowl away and closed his eyes. Dizziness