Capturing the Devil (Stalking Jack the Ripper #4)(70)
“I’m game if you are,” Noah said. “I’ve got to speak with Mr. Cigrande and go over his story once more. Which should give you both time to send a telegram. Meet me near the Statue of the Republic around six thirty. You won’t regret it.”
Court of Honor,
World’s Fair,
Chicago
THIRTY
ILLUMINATION
COURT OF HONOR
WORLD’S COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION
10 FEBRUARY 1889
We stood on the bridge overlooking the Grand Basin, admiring the domed Administration Building, waiting as the sun gracefully sank into a curtsy, its rays a rich tapestry of salmon, tangerine, and deep gold. Covered boats crossed from one side of the Court of Honor to the next, gliding across the otherwise still waters of the reflecting pool. American flags snapped in the light breeze, their sound swallowed by the large crowd. Every so often a flurry fell from the heavens, as if Mother Nature was adding a bit of her own magic to this shimmering city.
My gaze fell from one wonder to the next, drinking in each detail. From proud stone bulls facing east on the banks of the shore, to the Statue of the Republic before us, I could spend a lifetime traveling from building to building.
Noah and Thomas chatted about the architecture, commenting on the pleasing aesthetics of each cornice being built at the same height. What struck me was the neoclassical design—the creamy whites of each building, and the way they shifted to even softer hues as twilight cast its opal-colored net across the fair. I swore it appeared as if some celestial artist painted the buildings before our very eyes, taking care to gild their edges.
“It’s incredible,” I said. “How did they create such a palace so quickly?”
“Wait until the real magic starts,” Noah said, gazing at a boat cutting through the water. “I’ve come at sunset at least once every week since I got back, and it
never ceases to amaze me.”
I inhaled the fragrant air. Potted flowers were surprisingly in full bloom in every direction, but other scents carried on the cool breeze. A couple standing nearby happily crunched on a new treat—caramel-coated popped corn called Cracker Jack. The Court of Honor was unlike anything I’d ever witnessed before
—more ethereal and beautiful than even St. Paul’s Cathedral. The buildings gleamed even at this hour. I couldn’t wait to see them at the height of the morning sun. I found myself unable to fully describe the vast expanse of buildings fanned out around us, or how large they were. Giants could run from one end of them to the other, tiring even their long legs out well before they reached the end of the fairgrounds.
If heaven existed, surely this city must be fashioned after it.
I thought of Mr. Cigrande, the man whose daughter was missing, of his insistence that we were all walking blindly into Hell. He need only step into this White City to feel the presence of a higher power. Even someone like me, who wasn’t sure what to believe, felt moved.
“… he didn’t have much to add. Says the same story each time. Honestly, I’m not sure what to believe. I asked around and he did have a daughter, though neighbors recall hearing them argue at all hours. Dishes breaking…”
I tuned Thomas and Noah’s conversation out, not wanting any hint of darkness to invade this most sacred of spaces. It was selfish, but after our ruined wedding and the horror of our job, I longed for one hour to be swept away in the fantasy of our surroundings. While the sun continued its slow procession past the horizon, I studied the Statue of the Republic—my pamphlet stated it was sixty-five feet in height. One hand held a globe with an eagle aloft, while the other gripped a staff. She was as fierce as a goddess and equally intimidating.
“It’s almost time.” Noah bounced on the balls of his feet. The sun was fighting for its last breath before the moon ascended to its heavenly throne. Pure golden light pulsed before twilight crept in. “Get your handkerchiefs ready.”
Thomas puffed his chest up, no doubt ready to unleash an entire litany on why that would be unnecessary, when electrical lights flashed on across the grounds. My mouth hung open. Words failed me. My scientific-centered mind understood the engineering behind such a feat, but my heart raced at the brilliance. Never, in my whole life, had I witnessed such an event.
Thousands of lamps evenly posted from one end of the grounds to the next, from each building as far as I could see, all of it illuminated in unison. Brilliant white light reflected off the pond, shimmering. I reached for Thomas’s hand the
same moment he grabbed for mine.
“I-It’s…” My eyes stung as I struggled to put my feelings into words.
“Magic.” Thomas’s expression held pure wonder. “The magnitude…”
Noah offered a knowing grin, but I noticed his eyes also misted. “There are over two hundred thousand incandescent bulbs, according to the program.
Nikola Tesla’s alternating current is going to be huge. You should see what else he’s done in the Electricity Building.”
“Tesla?” I asked, dabbing at my eyes with Thomas’s handkerchief. “He’s here?” I’d read of his mechanical experiments—how he’d perform feats unlike any other for patrons in his laboratory. I gripped Thomas, ready to drag him all the way into the exhibition hall to meet a man who truly made magic from science. Nathaniel would have loved seeing him. I couldn’t wait to—I sucked in a sharp breath. Sometimes, even now, I forgot my brother was dead. A bit of my mood darkened, but one glance at the shimmering lights and the sound of the cries of the people standing all around us kept my sadness at bay.