The Chemickal Marriage

I am personally assured of the Queen’s safety!’
    ‘The Queen?’
    ‘Of course the Queen!’ Phelps directed the constable’s attention to Mr Cunsher. ‘This man is a foreign agent in our service. He has information of a plot – a plot employing significant
distraction
, do you understand?’
    The constable, for whom Svenson was by now feeling a certain pity, looked helplessly to the square, echoing with screams and gunfire.
    ‘
Exactly
,’ said Phelps. ‘I only pray we are not too late.’
    The constable gamely followed to a cobbled lane descending below Stäelmaere House.
    ‘Down there?’ he asked, dismayed by the darkness.
    Phelps shouted into the cavern, ‘You there! Sentries! Come up!’ No soldiers appeared and Phelps snorted with bitter satisfaction. ‘It is the grossest oversight.’
    ‘I’ll run to the guardhouse –’ offered the constable.
    Chang caught the constable’s arm. ‘If the attack has already begun, we will need every man.’
    He pulled the constable with them, tightening his grip as the man’s countenance betrayed his doubts. They descended to a dank vaulted chamber. Phelps hurried to a heavy wooden door and pulled the knob. It was locked.
    ‘Safe after all,’ ventured the constable. ‘So … all is well?’
    Doctor Svenson spoke gently. ‘You need not worry. We wish your Queen only long life.’ The constable’s expression sank further. ‘Restored health.’ Svenson’s words ran dry. ‘Dentistry.’
    Phelps peered at the door’s lock while Cunsher and Chang combined to secure the constable: wrists and ankles tied and mouth stuffed with a handkerchief.
    ‘Dentistry?’ asked Miss Temple.
    Svenson sighed. ‘I had the privilege of the royal presence, when the Prince was first received.’
    ‘I suppose one would not see it on the coins.’
    ‘A rotting dockfront hardly inspires monetary confidence.’
    ‘Surely there is carved ivory or porcelain.’
    ‘The monarch lays her trust in the Lord’s handiwork,’ replied the Doctor.
    ‘One enjoys all manner of advancements not strictly from the Lord.’
    ‘Apparently matters of the body have their own strictures.’
    ‘Surely she styles her hair, and uses soap.’
    Svenson tactfully said nothing.
    ‘Royalty are in-bred dogs,’ said Chang, joining them, ‘yapping, brainless, and fouling any place they can bring their haunches to bear. What is he doing?’
    This last was directed at Mr Phelps, but Chang did not wait for an answer, crossing to Phelps and repeating his question directly.
    Miss Temple whispered to Svenson,‘It is a pneumatic vestibule.’
    ‘A what?’
    ‘A room that moves up and down. I travelled in it with Mrs Marchmoor and the Duke, and with Mr Phelps.’
    ‘Do you accept his repentance?’ asked Svenson quietly.
    ‘I accept his guilt. One does not care why a cart-horse pulls.’
    ‘Chang fears Phelps will betray us. Did you not mark their discussion in the blast tunnel?’
    ‘What discussion?’ asked Miss Temple, a bit too loudly.
    They turned at the sound of Mr Cunsher clearing his throat. Miss Temple took interruption as censure, and addressed Cunsher directly: ‘It is easy to repent when one has
lost
.’
    Cunsher studied her face, which Miss Temple bore for perhaps three seconds before returning the stare doubly hard.
    ‘Any luck with the door?’ called Doctor Svenson.
    ‘The problem,’ Mr Phelps replied, ‘is that there is no
lock
.’ He nodded at a metal key plate. ‘To summon the car, one inserts the key, at which point the vestibule car descends. Only when the car is in place will the door open. Even had we an axe, we could only reach the empty shaftway.’
    ‘Then why did you bring us here?’ snarled Chang.
    ‘Because the way is unguarded. The hallways of Stäelmaere House connect to the Palace on one side and to the Ministries on the other.
This
was the private exit for the Duke himself – only his most intimate servants and aides know of it. Once inside we can search for the Comte – for Vandaariff – in any direction.’
    ‘Is there no signal?’ asked Miss Temple. ‘Some sort of bell?’
    ‘Of course,’ huffed Phelps, ‘the use of which will alert those inside. We will be taken and killed!’
    ‘Perhaps I do not understand,’ Svenson offered. Phelps had so deftly managed the cordon, it was dismaying to see him at such an impasse. ‘If we
do
ring the bell –’
    ‘Whoever hears it may well send the car down. But ringing the bell after the Duke’s death