The Interruption
Episode 2: Checking on Lyra
Alarmed by the implications of his brother’s discovery, Dorian immediately thought of Lyra Thorne, his young apprentice who lived in the cottage attached to the horology workshop. He stood up from his workbench and walked over to the inner courtyard door, calling out Lyra’s name to check if she was still working in the annex. There was no answering voice, save for the steady patter of the autumn rain dripping from the copper guttering into the stone basin below. Dorian pushed the door open, stepping into the annex to find the workbench deserted, her half-finished pocket watch movement sitting untouched beside an unlit soldering iron. A sense of cold dread washed over him as he noticed her heavy woolen cloak still hanging on the wall peg, yet her boots and umbrella were missing from the entryway. Julian stepped into the annex behind him, shining his heavy-duty flashlight across the dusty floorboards until the beam caught a glint of metal near the back window. Resting on the windowsill was a small brass gear—the exact counterpart to the specialty escapement wheels Dorian kept locked in his master parts cabinet. Lyra hadn’t simply stepped out for an errand; she had been taken, and the saboteur had left a calling card specifically tailored for Dorian to find.
The Broken Watch
Returning to the primary workshop, Dorian picked up the smashed pocket watch with a pair of precision tweezers, placing it gently under his stereo microscope. He adjusted the focal knobs until the microscopic scratches along the inner brass casing came into sharp, crystalline focus. The characters weren’t just random letters; they formed a set of geographic coordinates pointing to an abandoned lighthouse situated on the rocky headland outside Thornfield. “She’s at the Old Skerry Lighthouse,” Dorian murmured, his voice trembling slightly as he identified the coastal location. Julian leaned over the microscope eyepiece, verifying the alphanumeric string before sliding a heavy service revolver out from his holster and checking the cylinder. “Whoever killed Arthur and took your apprentice knows we’re connecting the dots,” Julian said, his expression hardening into a mask of cold resolve. “We need to move before they realize we’ve cracked the code.” Dorian unlocked a lower drawer of his workbench, retrieving a heavy steel crowbar and a compact emergency lighting kit designed for field repairs in unlit spaces. The brothers locked the workshop doors behind them, stepping out into the relentless autumn rain as a black sedan idled silently at the far end of the misty lane.