The Skeffields ran an eccentric household, but it was a disappointingly tame one, from my point of view. I could see no radical notions being spewed about, and there was certainly no bomb building. Nobody even seemed to rant about the government more than the usual amount. Everyone just seemed to be going about their business, keeping the manor running and enjoying such rural entertainments as they could find.
There was a dance nearly every week as the weather grew warmer. Farmers were rushing to get their crops in, and needed all the hands they could find. This included some of the manor's workmen, including the mechanicalized ones. People were getting far less picky about hiring these fellows, or else this was a very special neighborhood. Probably the latter, because of the manor's influence.
The scrawny fellow, whose name turned out to be Jimmy, was the shadiest character there, if only because he seemed to have no regular job and came and went as he pleased, darting from the manor back to some nameless place in the big city. He could, it was possible, be carrying messages or even parts for bombs, but he did have a reason to be there.
His boyfriend worked on the manor. I caught them kissing once, when I was spying on him. They were a mismatched pair, him and his mechanicalized man. Jimmy was far too short and scrawny and rough to belong with anyone so tall and normal-looking, even if that one did lack some of the same parts as anyone else.
Marcus, the boyfriend, was one of the quieter fellows who worked in the garden, kept his head down, and sometimes did a stint repairing machinery about the place. He seemed happy, and if his sappy looks and impassioned kisses were anything to go by, he liked Jimmy a great deal.
I was, however, not convinced that that was all that was going on here with Jimmy's comings and goings. He probably worked in the city. Fine and well. He could've moved nearer if he wanted to. I thought it was a convenient excuse to be here all the time, visiting his boyfriend. And I was going to find out the real reason. I had a good shot at it, too.
Not only did I have as much time as I needed (nobody had made the faintest move to recall me, as though I'd been put out to pasture), but I also had gained his trust, on some level at least, just by being ostensibly another mechanicalized man, like his beloved Marcus.
If he was still a skittish fellow, not inclined to get close to anyone to speak, I had no doubt that could be overcome. If he was involved with these bomb threats, I was going to find out — and stop him. If it was something harmless, well, I didn't believe that for a second. Not a single second.
This place was a pleasure, and I was enjoying it, but all the same, I had a job to do, and I'd done it when it was harder than this. Jimmy, the ragged little urchin of a conspirator, didn't know whom he was up against or he'd be shivering in his ragged little boots.