Page 52 of From the Ashes
"The article will coincide with an announcement of a grant awarded to your department, and funded by the paper's owner."
"How much is the grant worth?"
"Two thousand pounds."
Bell's white brows shot up. He leaned forward and steepled his hands on his desk. "Why my department?"
"Personal reasons, so I'm told."
Bell leaned back again. "I see."
Lincoln signaled to me to begin my note taking. I hoped my handwriting was up to the task if Mr. Bell asked to inspect my notes. My education had been stunted when my father threw me out at thirteen, and although I'd read a great deal since going to live at Lichfield, my writing lacked speed and grace.
"What developments are you currently working on?" Lincoln asked.
"I won't be answering any of your questions until I've spoken to your editor. What did you say his name was?"
"Mr. Marshall," Lincoln said without missing a beat. "I wish you luck getting an appointment with him. He's a busy man."
"Aren't we all? Nevertheless, I will speak with him first. Come back next week."
"It's a simple question, Dr. Bell. I'm not asking for any secrets, just some information about your current work. Do you have any private commissions, for example?"
Dr. Bell stood. "Please see yourselves out."
"The grant may be awarded to another if you don't cooperate."
"Fawkner!" Bell bellowed. His assistant appeared at the door. "See that Mr. Humphrey and his assistant find the exit. We wouldn't want them getting lost and stumbling into the laboratory by mistake."
Lincoln tensed. "We'll tell Mr. Marshall to expect you."
"This way, if you please," said Dr. Fawkner with forced cheerfulness.
Lincoln followed me out. Even though he showed no outward signs, I knew he was quietly seething, and probably wishing he hadn't gone to the trouble of disguises and stories. I wished the same, but as Dr. Fawkner led us down the staircase, I realized not all was yet lost.
"I am sorry for Dr. Bell," he said quietly when we reached the ground floor. He glanced back up the stairs and leaned toward Lincoln. "He's a meticulous man, very thorough, and doesn't take people at face value. Once he's verified that you are who you are, he'll be keen to speak to you. About most of his work, anyway." He laughed nervously and glanced once again up the staircase.
Most? "That's quite all right," I said. "We understand completely. Mr. Humphrey is very much like your Dr. Bell in that regard."
Lincoln gave a short, sharp nod. Dr. Fawkner smiled at me. "How charming to see a woman in a man's role. I'm all for women's rights. I have sisters," he said with a hearty smile. "One even wishes to become a doctor, but will probably have to settle for nursing."
"An equally marvelous profession." His smile widened at my enthusiastic response. Beside me, Lincoln shifted his weight. I ignored him. Dr. Fawkner was ripe for picking. "Your work here is fascinating," I said, injecting a hint of awe into my voice, "and so important."
"Life saving, you might say." He chuckled. "Life giving too, in a way."
Giving? Could he mean resurrection? "How intriguing," I said, breathily. "Whatever do you mean?"
"Just something Bell once said, Miss…"
"Filmott." I smiled and held out my hand.
"Miss Filmott." He took my hand and smiled back when I gently squeezed. "Charming."
"You were saying?"
"Ah, yes." He frowned as he gathered his thoughts again. "You'd be amazed at the types of things we're working on in our laboratories, but unfortunately I'm not privy to everything Dr. Bell does. Some of his work is very private. So much so that he won't even divulge its nature to me. Can't have rival doctors stealing our research, can we?" He laughed. "That's Dr. Bell's greatest fear. That and germs."
"Of course. It explains his reluctance to accept us without checking our authenticity first. I, for one, don't blame him at all. We have no problem with returning another day."
