"You've got to be kidding me!" Dr. Archer's features slipped for a moment. Then he slapped his hand over his face and let out a loud, strained groan. "So that means we've spent hours driving out into the countryside from London looking for a gentleman who is now back at our starting point?"

Kaylee couldn't help but chuckle at the unnerved look on the otherwise stoic doctor's face, even though she was frustrated herself. However, she quickly put her hand to her lips, cleared her throat to cover it with a cough, and promptly returned to the seriousness of the situation.
"Well, we could hardly have guessed we were looking for a suspect in the capital. Still, I understand your anger."

"And what do we do now? I mean, locating the man in London should be almost impossible."
Kaylee raised her narrow eyebrows. "I wouldn't entirely agree. After all, we have the company's name, which seems connected to the mysterious stranger. We can at least look into this once we're back in London. The Bank of England keeps a fairly detailed register of the largest companies and factories in and around London that trade with foreign countries, in which the owners and partners are listed. This includes the corresponding addresses."

At these words, Benjamin's hard expression relaxed again. "That's excellent! But while we're here, we should still ask the girl. Even if it's to get a more detailed description of the stranger."
Kaylee nodded in agreement. "No doubt." Her gaze fastened thoughtfully on the cargo papers on the table before her. Something didn't add up here, even if she couldn't think of precisely what. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Excuse me?" Dr. Archer couldn't quite follow. Crowford had just agreed with him?

"Unloading the shipment here in Whitby and then transporting it onwards doesn't make sense. The rail connections for freight trains aren't ideal - as we've seen for ourselves. The ship could have sailed directly to London or called at a port further south. And even if this was only a stopover, the unknown gentleman could have sailed on to London by ship. Why take a carriage or one of the trains?" Kaylee shook her head.

Dr. Archer tilted his head slightly to one side and rubbed the beard on his chin. "Maybe the unknown gentleman gets seasick quickly, and traveling by ship doesn't work for him. Be that as it may, we're not getting any smarter from the papers than we are now. So let's waste no more time and get to the hospital." Dr. Archer tilted his head slightly to one side and rubbed the beard on his chin. "Maybe the unknown gentleman gets seasick quickly, and traveling by ship doesn't suit him. Be that as it may, we won't get any smarter from the papers than we are now. So let's waste no more time and get to the hospital." He raised his eyes and fixed them on Kaylee. "How do you actually know something like that?" he asked, just as she rose from her chair and reached into the inside pocket of her coat to pull out a wad of banknotes held together with a gold clip.

"How do I know what?" Kaylee counted out a small amount and some tips for the babbling waitress and placed them on the small tray provided.

"That this route makes no sense. How do you know these things about export routes and the trade register in London?"

Of course, Kaylee immediately realized that the doctor's curiosity had only a limited connection to her case. Very few members of the Order knew the exact details of Kyle Crowford's wealth and how he had come by it.
"Well, I know a lot about such matters because I own shares in various companies, including a few railroads," Crowford replied, seeing Dr. Archer's face derail for the second time.

"You 're a shareholder and own shares in the railroad?" Ben stared at his companion in disbelief.

"Yes. In the Great Northern Railway, among others, to be precise. Why do you think we were able to get seats in first class so spontaneously?"

Benjamin blinked, baffled. Then he narrowed his eyes as his mind found another logical hole in the veil with which Kaylee surrounded her past and alter ego. "And where did you get the funds for those shares? Surely the change wasn't just lying on the street?"

The Great Northern Railway was one of England's wealthiest railroad institutions; the shareholders usually sat in large halls surrounded by giggling beauties. There, they clinked crystal glasses together while the gentlemen sipped expensive champagne. Most of them came from the old moneyed aristocracy or were aristocrats themselves. His companion was neither, at least as far as the doctor knew.

Kaylee smiled in reply. It was the kind of smile that hid much that was unsaid. "Are you sure you want to know, Doctor?" She quickly tucked the bundle of money back into her coat and shrugged her shoulders. "Let's just say I have amazing talent and certain skills for making smart investments at the right time. Just one of my many talents."

"And your mastery of the dark arts doesn't happen to have anything to do with that?" Benjamin couldn't help but ask this question. After all, he had seen Kaylee herself casting bones and oracles to consult fate before.

"Who knows." Kaylee placed the top hat on her black hair, and for a second, that telltale smile that always appeared when the good doctor thought he had her figured out played around her lips. "We'd better get going and question the young lady," Crowford insisted again, adjusting the lapels of her coat before turning around and heading toward the relay station where the stagecoaches exchanged horses.

The small, inconspicuous house was one of several in the tranquil spa town and was only noticeable because of the attached stables, from which the snorting of horses and the clopping of hooves could be heard. A background noise that somehow didn't quite fit in with the idyll of the harbor but at the same time belonged there like a carefully placed silver letter in an old manuscript.

"My gut feeling is that we shouldn't waste more time."

The sound of the waves and the screeching of the seagulls faded behind them and gave way to the monotonous rattling of the carriage wheels. The inside of the coach smelled musty and old, and the upholstery was uncomfortable and sagging. In some places, it was torn or had been patched up in a makeshift manner, and Kaylee immediately opened the window so that at least a little fresh sea air could flow into the interior. After that, she kept sliding back and forth on the cushion, constantly grumbling.

A little way outside the town, behind a grove that could hardly be called a forest without offending other forests, the comparatively narrow road wound through the hilly landscape. A bridge stretched over a small river, which babbled leisurely along their route and presumably lost itself in the seas near Whitby.

Behind a slight bend that led around a hill, an imposing structure emerged from the landscape. Surrounded by a cast-iron fence with intimidating spires encircled by ornate brazen leaves, the large structure of the hospital, with its main building and two side wings, was an unexpected sight. By now, the sky was covered in dark clouds, and no ray of sunlight managed to dispel the oppressive mood that at least Kaylee felt at the scene.

Although the building was made of light-colored stone, its proximity to the sea and the ravages of time were visible. The walls were now grayish, and ivy was climbing up the façade in many places, its small leaves swaying in the light breeze like waves on an evergreen sea.

Above the main entrance, a small tower towered over the roofs of the side wings. The round dial of a steadily clicking tower clock with its brass hands indicated the fifteenth hour. Meticulously trimmed hedges flanked the gravel path to the traffic circle in front of the entrance gate, where the carriage finally stopped.

Dr. Archer let his eyes wander over the building while Kaylee climbed out.

"Shall I wait for you, gentlemen?" The coachman glanced repeatedly toward the building, looking as uncomfortable as Kaylee at the sight of the right wing. Iron bars in front of every window resembled a prison rather than a hospital, and the thought of what was going on inside probably made some people feel sick to their stomachs.

"No, thank you very much. It may take longer." Kaylee reached into the inside pocket of her coat and pulled out the wad of bills. While she was still moving, she noticed that something seemed to have caught on it - and that was when it slipped out of her pocket. There was a muffled sound as the stone with the hole in the middle landed in the gravel and remained there like an eye with a reproachful look.

Dr. Archer bent down and picked up the flat stone while the coachman frowned and decided to ignore it. Instead, his gaze settled on the gentleman with the money, already extending his hand.

Kaylee visibly hurried to hand the man his payment, and even as the carriage rattled away, she extended the flat of her hand towards Benjamin.

"It seems to me that you have a habit of not handing over everything we confiscate to the Order, Mr. Crowford." Dr. Archer turned the stone over with a visibly critical expression before returning it to the magician. "This could cause you quite a lot of trouble."

"The Druid's Glass was not on the Order's list of wanted and confiscated objects," Kaylee replied, putting the stone back in her pocket. "As long as it's not explicitly mentioned in any report and disclosed as an artifact, taking possession of it is not a violation of the Order's rules. I consider it compensation for my cloak and for my injury."

"Oh? Like a particular sword, which, by coincidence, is also still in your possession? And which you were very insistent on not mentioning in my last report?"

"Now listen to me. I think that I have sufficiently earned the sword by killing the demon. And what the Order doesn't know won't hurt them..." Kaylee waggled her eyebrows mischievously, and Dr. Archer wanted to groan at this far too charming form of impertinence.

She clearly didn't have a guilty conscience, which should have worried Dr. Archer more. The young magician was as unrepentant as a rascal who stole apples from his neighbor and saw it more as a prank than a real offense.

"What happened to the sword?" the Doctor asked, more interested than reproving.

Kaylee clicked her tongue, lifted her walking stick, pushed the cylinder a little higher with its knob, and then tapped it twice on the gravel.

She waggled her eyebrows again. "I'm sure you'll find out one day, Dr. Archer," she said, grinning boldly. "We should think of a way to get to Miss Clarence instead. After the incident, the hospital staff will no doubt be dismissive of the press. And I doubt we'll pass for family members."

Dr. Archer laughed and took the first step to the hospital. Sometimes, Kaylee really couldn't see the wood for the trees because she made everything more complicated than needed—first at the café, and now in this case, too. Now, it was he who grinned with mischief.

"I actually have an idea."