January, 1883
Residence of L. Gantry, Dr.sc.geo
Sutton
Snow was still falling when, at two in the afternoon, someone knocked on Lettie’s door. The maid answered it and was surprised to find a footman at the doorstep with a card. She hurried to bring it to her employer, who was feverishly writing and rewriting a mathematical equation on a large chalk board.
Lettie held the extremely expensive linen card, with its simple but elegant type. Sir Richard Pierce. He was apparently waiting outside in a carriage; awaiting her response if she was receiving.
“Please have him come in,” Lettie instructed the maid.
Bobbing a curtsey, she turned from Lettie and stopped abruptly. Sir Richard was standing in the doorway of the parlor; his hat in hand and his eyes deeply sunken from what Lettie perceived was a lack of sleep.
“Maddie, will you please take Sir Richard’s things and bring us hot tea right away?”
The maid bobbed again and took the elder Pierce’s coat. She held out her hands for his hat and gloves, but he declined.
“I would not like to presume to stay more than is appropriate,” he said hoarsely.
“Nonsense, sir,” Lettie was quick to reply. “I insist you stay for luncheon. You’ve traveled too far in this weather. Maddie, please set his hat aside, and see to it that the kitchen is made available to his staff, if they should care to come in.”
Richard watched her appreciatively. “Not exactly by the book? I think I like that.”
“Social books are written by those fairly unaccustomed to reality and rather unhappy with society as it is. Would you care to sit?”
“Thank you.” He wandered over to the seat near the fire that she indicated, stopping for just a moment to stare at the incomprehensible scribble on the board. Kindly, she sat down quickly so that he wouldn’t have to stand waiting for her. He was a gentleman after all.
He cleared his throat. “I have heard nothing of my son, and from your reaction to my arrival, I can assume neither have you?”
“Not a word.” She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees.
He stared at the fire. “It’s not like him, you know?” Realizing his assumption, he added, “That is, I should tell you that it is not like him to disappear. He’s very attached to family. Though he travels often, I never go a week without some contact. Two months …”
“It’s unlikely that he’s gone on his own. If I may presume, I believe he would have mentioned to you that he had made such plans.”
“He’d never worry me like this. Not his way.” Such pride was welling up in his voice. He suddenly looked up at her. “You said in your testimony to the police and your kind correspondence with me that you believed this ‘Robur’ was potentially behind his disappearance.”
Lettie nodded and sat back. “Yes sir. But I have no proof. And there are reasons I think it could be equally unlikely that Robur has your son. For one thing, this Robur is an inventor himself. I cannot believe that Professor Pierce would provide any expertise that Robur would not think himself already superior in. That does not indicate that he is a better scientist than your son, only that Robur might not recognize such brilliance in another man. When I met this Robur, he was arrogant and self serving. No, he didn’t strike me as a man who would acknowledge another man’s genius. ”
Richard stood up and began pacing. In many ways he seemed to be cut from the same cloth as her own father. He was perhaps a bit younger and smaller in stature, but they held the same fatherly values by all appearances. “From your letters Doctor, for which I am extremely grateful, I would assume the same thing regarding Robur. I have …” he hesitated. “I have another concept, one which would be wasted on a policeman but one which I believe you might understand.”
Lettie couldn’t help but like him. He had yet to examine her parlor as other visitors so often did. There had been no judgmental look at her rather casual attire. No scoffing expression barely hidden from view once the chalkboard had been observed. He presented his case as though speaking to any intelligent person. She really liked him.
“Doctor Gantry, I should like to give you some information regarding my son, but I would like not to presume that you should want to hear it.”
“I do, sir. If it will help to find your son, I should like very much to hear it. And you may depend upon my discretion.”
Richard nodded. “Thank you. As you may have guessed, he is not my natural son. That is, he is not biologically my own, but in all other ways he is. I have no children of my own, and my wife passed away very early on. I’ve never chosen to remarry. I have had Rajiv legally recognized and, named as my son and heir. There is still some legal nonsense regarding my familial titles but all else is his upon my death.”
He waited patiently and silently while Maddie brought in tea and cake, and quickly exited. The hot tea soothed to his throat and he found his voice much clearer as he continued. “I believe this disappearance has something to do with his birth. In ’57, I was traveling on doctor’s orders. Get out of England, he told me. My wife was gone and I’d lost two sisters the year before.” Richard smiled briefly at Lettie. “I have been blessed with several outstanding women in my life and was at the time missing them all greatly. It was affecting my nerves. So, off I went. A Grand Tour without the bride. But, turns out my doctor was right. Travel did me a great deal of good.
“It was that awful year that I arrived in Bombay. You cannot imagine the chaos in the harbor. With the rebellion running amok in the North, everyone was in a panic. Those that could were trying to flee the country and the violence. Those that couldn’t, or who had been sent there, would battle each other in the streets. No one was safe. That’s when I found Rajiv.
“A mob was up. People who had been displaced by the fighting but were loyal to the Crown had heard that some of the families of the rebellious Rajahs were attempting to escape. In those days, some of the Indian royalty had connections in Europe and were sending family there. In particular, I recall the story of one Prince who actually had a French wife. Certain that she would be killed by either side, he sent her away with his children. They never made it to French territory.
“The mob attacked anyone who appeared to be associated with wealth, the rebellion, oh whatever the excuse. Rajiv was five years old, dressed up like a little Prince himself. Five years old …” He sipped his tea trying to comprehend the abomination that was violence against children. “He’d been struck so hard in the head that most thought he was dead. I could see he was breathing. I picked him up, walked to the first departing ship and never looked back.”
Lettie sat perfectly still, waiting.
“He has no memory of the event, though occasionally he would recall something from a bit earlier. Something about falling out of a tree, or some such thing children do. We have no idea who his family is. No idea about his connections. I suspect that he is half English, or at least part European. He understood both English and French in addition to Hindi. But I’m not sure what his lineage was and he simply does not know. I never asked. I just saw a child and …
“Doctor, I have always maintained a fear that his family would come looking for him and today I am convinced that they have.”
She waited a moment or two, to see if he was done before she commented. “Sir Richard, what purpose do you think they would have in kidnapping him? You’ve not received a ransom request; thus, I believe money is not the issue. If he is with his former family, and they do not have evil designs, then I see no reason why they would prevent him from communicating with you.”
“There is one possibility. They have killed him.”
Lettie gasped before realizing it was a sound not indicative of calm and reason. Straightening out her skirts, she forced herself to remain calm. “I’ve never considered death to be a viable explanation for his absence, and I refuse to do so now,” she said with a bit too much determination.
Richard smiled at her. “No, my dear Doctor, I would not think you would. I however fear that, if he has not fallen victim to a robber or madman, he may have fallen victim to the events of twenty-six years ago. Rebels or extreme Loyalists? It could be either. That Rebellion left unhealed wounds that still fester, even today.”
It was Lettie’s turn to stalk the room. “I - just can’t accept that. His equipment and luggage were missing from his home. A common thief would have only taken what was valuable and a madman would have no notion to go to his home and take such items. No, sir, someone wants us to believe that Professor Pierce has gone traveling or into seclusion.”
“This does not preclude murder. The murderer may be trying to hide the deed.”
“How many murderers would think to do such a thing, such as taking his notes and equipment? Luggage perhaps, but not all the rest? No, it is someone who has the Professor and doesn’t want us looking for him.”
The speculation continued over lunch, though less and less toward the conclusion of murder. Such proved to be a relief for Sir Richard, who seemed to be of a clearer mind when he finally took his leave from Lettie.
He took back his hat, gloves and coat from Maddie. “Your work? I confess to not knowing a great deal about it, except that it may save lives?”
“That is my hope.”
He stopped to think for a moment. “Yes, you must concentrate on that. You must. Leave it to me and to the police, to find Rajiv - go to Java.”
Lettie began to shake her head. “I can’t go …”
“My son thinks your work worthy and important; otherwise he would not have agreed to make one of his contraptions for you. Trust me, he told people ‘no’ more often than ‘yes.’ If he believes your geological work to be vital, you must respect his opinion and continue it. Go to Java. I insist you keep me informed of your whereabouts - please. I should not like to think of the two of you missing.”