Chapter 3

As the Ridgemont brothers left the judge, another late working agent followed the twins to the first lodging house they could find. The Secret Service agent left word for Rebecca Fogg of their location the next morning:

It is an inexpensive rooming house four blocks from the police station, his note stated, along with the address.

Rebecca Fogg reached the office and gathered her reports the next morning. She was on her way to take the Ridgemont watch from the present agent when that agent walked into her office to tell Rebecca the Americans had moved early this morning.

"They cleared out of the fisherman's inn and took a hotel near Vauxhall Gardens. More upscale, fewer vermin and drunks," the agent joked.

"Yes," Rebecca said. "More gambling establishments, prostitutes, and brothels, too." She sighed and gritted her teeth, inwardly shuddering. This is going to be a lovely assignment.

Since before the turn of the century, Vauxhall Gardens had been a showplace filled with courtesans, upscale prostitutes, and the wealthy. The shrubbery there was alive with clinging couples, and it did not pay to be a female agent in such an atmosphere. Rebecca had done it twice and had been solicited so often she had lost track of her subjects. Her male counterparts had similar problems working the area. Nobody liked it.

Rebecca was steeling herself for the upcoming ordeal when she was called to Sir Jonathan's office.

"You asked for me, sir," Rebecca said as she had been shown into the office.

Chatsworth was standing beside his desk at the window on the other side of the room, looking out over the view of the rooftops. The office didn't offer more of a view than that. Only the bright sunlight that flooded in most of the day made this an advantageous location. The present and former occupant worked all hours without overuse of the gas lamps because of it.

"Yes," Chatsworth said, reseating himself behind his desk and offering her the seat on the other side. "I was just informed of the change of venue your assignment took this morning. I am taking you off the case temporarily. That is not an easy area for any agent, but in the past, you have had an especially difficult time. I will give the Ridgemont watch to Williams and Jones until they go on to Cambridge."

Rebecca stood there, staring at him. Should I complain about being removed from a case for being female, or should I kiss the man in gratitude? She decided on a more decorous acceptance, saying, "Yes, sir."

She was about to rise when Sir Jonathan bid her to stay.

"I have a question for you," he said. "You and your cousin are still keeping watch over Jules Verne in Paris, are you not?"

"Yes sir," Rebecca said, retaking her seat. "His constant altercations with the League of Darkness seem to require it. You disapprove?"

"On the contrary, I think it an excellent use of your time," he praised. He stood again as he talked, heading to the middle of the office to pace. "When did you last see him?"

"Nearly a month ago," Rebecca said, shifting in her chair. "He has had no difficulties since he was taken to help build the Count's time machine."

"The young Frenchman's ordeals have shed much light on the League's activities," Sir Jonathan said, more to himself than his agent. "You are quite right to make sure this inventive per chant of his doesn't fall into their hands. Would we could convince the French government to keep watch over their citizen, but Verne is an insignificant speck on the map of their domestic security. They do not even choose to acknowledge that the League exists, much less recognize it as a problem. I suspect the French government has reasons for looking the other way."

Rebecca felt the same way. She had uncovered evidence certain French officials were paid to keep their government's back turned. But that was France's problem, not theirs.

"Thank you, that will be all," Chatsworth said. Rebecca nodded and left the room, slightly confused by the turn of conversation, but pleased.