Ok, here's my second work! This ones' quite a bit different from the last. I wasn't so much trying to stay doylean as I was on the other one. So don't kill me for that please! lol And I'm sorry H&W don't come in until the chapter , but I had to set the stage! Anyway, please let me know what ya'll think!
"A Matter of Taste"
Prologue: Dinner & Deception
"Oh Chandler, you are the most wonderful man a woman could possibly have. I've always wanted to go to Simpson's!" Exclaimed Cynthia Cavenness as she was assisted from the carriage by her husband.
"You deserve to eat here every day! If only I could afford such luxury. But as this is our second anniversary, I thought a little frivolousness would be alright...we shall be quite awhile driver, if you would be so kind as to wait at the corner? Thank you."
Cynthia laughed & took her husbands arm. The dinner was magnificent. It was everything she'd ever dreamed. They were given an excellent table with a lovely view of the Thames. Everything was so perfect.
"And now my dear girl, close your eyes, open your hands and see what God will send you."
"Oh Chandler really!" she protested, but did as he said. Cynthia felt something cold slip over her finger. She opened her eyes to find a tiny plain gold band resting on the fourth finger of her left hand.
""I know we were going to wait awhile to get the ring, but I saw this one, & I just couldn't help myself. It looked so perfect for you. And it wasn't all that much! "
Cynthia responded with a tearful smile. "I love you so much. Thank you."
"I love you too, and you're welcome."
He led his beautiful bride of two years to the dance floor, and they whiled away the remainder of the evening swirling to soft music.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hurry it up you fools! Do you want to be seen!?"
"No sir, but its heavy sir!"
Professor Thomas Quinn stepped out into light of the street, leaving his two lackeys to struggle with enormous package. "Where is that bloody cab?! Don't you dare drop it! Or we'll all be done for surely!"
"No sir!"
The Professor glanced at his watch. A quarter to ten. Where was that cabby?
"Perhaps the illustrious Mr. Holmes forgot to send one! Curse him! All these blasted government officials think they can drag you have way round the world & then expect you to walk the last mile! Oh!"
"Perhaps they ran into to fog sir?"
"There is no fog tonight Smithers, it's perfectly clear."
"Aye sir, but its London, there's bound to be a fog somewheres!"
Professor Quinn stared incredulously at the man.
"You read too much or too little, I cannot decide which."
The other fellow, who'd remained quietly in the shadows stepped forward. He was a large man, distinctive only by the long scar that ran from his nose to his jaw.
"There's a carriage down the street sir, it don't look busy. Perhaps we could hire it."
"You're smarter than you look McKee, go and ask the fellow to step this way. Tell him he'll be paid royally. Offer him up to 50£."
McKee nodded and trotted off to obey.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Are you ready to go Cynthia?"
"Yes, I'm quite exhausted, but it has been such a lovely evening. I shall never forget it Chandler, not as long as I live."
"Nor I. Come, get your wrap and I'll call the carriage."
The happy couple stepped out into the cool night air, and began strolling toward their rented carriage. Chandler stopped suddenly.
""Hold there! What are you doing with our carriage? Stop I say!"
The driver gave a bewildered look, as his newly acquired passengers gave their unwieldy bundle one last push into his carriage.
"Go!" The professors' voice rang out in the still night, as Chandler Cavenness leapt at the horses heads. Grasping the reins he held them fast.
"What do you think you're doing sir? We've engaged this carriage for the night! There are no others here this late, I'll not have my wife walking home at this hour! I demand you get out at once!"
Cynthia stepped forward. "Or at least sirs, allow us to share the carriage with you, we are not opposed to letting you be driven to your destination first."
"We shall do no such thing! Get away from those horses young man! At once!"
The said horses had received their fill of such nonsense and proceeded to rear, and then attempted to bolt. In their struggle the carriage axle was wrenched sideways and snapped. All at once, with a tremendous crash the vehicle was on its side. The Professor emerged screaming curses.
"You fools! You utter, damnable fools! Get it out at once! Young man, I warn you, if it is damaged you shall have the law to reckon with! I shall have you put away for this! Oh, what will Lord Hollingsworth say!?"
"Lord Hollingsworth? Why, he's a member of Parliament!"
"Indeed, my friend! You shall have the very British government at your heels!"
"Please sir, my husband meant no harm, I assure you. It was an accident. We are terribly sorry, is there any way we could help?"
"Yes sir, I am truly sorry. Seeing as how you are an official of some sort. I didn't realize it was an official matter. I was, well...I mean...I am terribly sorry sir...is it very badly ruined?"
Smithers & McKee pulled the package from the carriage only to trip over the broken remains of the carriage door and fall flat. The bundle rolled forward & a pale, unclothed body fell from its protection. The Cavenness' gasps were the only thing to be heard on the quiet thouroughfare.
"It he dead?" asked Cynthia.
The Professor sighed. "It isn't a body ma'am. It's a piece of extensive machinery...very dangerous machinery that should be handled with care! It's a wonder we're not all dead, after a bumb like that!"
"Why, it must be the Quinn bomb! Everyone has talked of nothing else for weeks! The only bomb to be shaped as a human body!"
Cynthia shuddered. "It looks frightfully realistic to me."
"But what on earth is it doing here, sir? It was being made in Russia, by an English Professor named Quinn, they weren't even sure it would come off yet." Chandler said, stepping toward thing.
"Keep away from it, curse you! I am Professor Thomas Quinn, and I order you not to touch my property!"
Chandler backed away rapidly. "I wasn't going to, sir. Very glad to know you Professor, I'm Chandler Cavenness, and this is my wife Cynthia, sir. You know I laid a shilling at the office that you would give it to England! Right good of you sir!"
The Professor was not touched by this gesture of confidence. He strode forward and grabbed the young man by the shoulders.
"Mr. Cavenness, I must tell you that you've placed yourself in a rather precarious situation. No one knows about my bringing the bomb to London. No one! If Russia were to get wind of it, there'd be a full scale war! If you so much as mention it over breakfast, all our plans could be destroyed. Will you and your wife both swear never to again mention, not even to each other, what you have seen here?"
"Upon my honor as an Englishman sir, I shall never betray my country, I swear it."
"As do I Professor Quinn."
Quinn visibly relaxed. "Very well then."
As soon as he spoke, the long awaited cab drove alongside the wreckage. Without another word to the befuddled couple, the three bomb bearers hoisted their burden into the cab and disappeared into the night.
