My Clockwork Muse by D.R. Erickson

had
seen it in daylight. "The killer used it to sedate his victim. I'm
certain of that."
    "How can you be certain?"
    "It was the dust. Or the lack of it, I should
say. I found it hidden among dust-covered items and yet the vial
was clean as if it had just been used. The victim must have been
drugged. Must have been." I looked up at Tap, remembering
anew the lady in the lunchroom. "And the woman, the cook! She bears
that out. She supposed the man drunk, she said. But he was not
drunk, I say, but sedated."
    "With that stuff? The laudan?"
    "The laudanum, yes. This coupled with the
existence of a recently used sedative in such close proximity to
the body cannot be coincidence. It is this that will save me, Tap.
Somewhere on this vial is evidence that will link the killer to the
basement. Then I can show that it was not me."
    The very idea that I had to prove my
innocence still seemed unbelievable to me. But if what Coppelius
said was true, then I had not only to prove my innocence of murder
but of arson as well. Feeling myself more victim than suspect, the
reality of my situation had become almost incomprehensible to
me.
    "Hate to disappoint you, Eddy, but all I see
is an empty bottle. Maybe, now, if it had something in it—"
    "But something is in it!" Turning it
in the light, I saw something I had not noticed before. A shallow
crescent of crystallized liquid was wedged in the bottom of the
bottle. The hardened substance caught the sunlight streaming in
through the window and made a rainbow of colors. "Yes... Now this
is interesting..."
    I sniffed it again as I had the previous
evening and with the same result. Then I dipped my pinky through
the open mouth of the bottle. The substance was slick and
unyielding. I withdrew my finger, moistened it, and tried again.
Applying my fingertip to my tongue, I could taste the extreme
bitterness of the substance. I winced. It was as bitter as the dose
Dr. Coppelius had given me just a short time ago. Here, the opium
had been mixed with some flavorless liquid. Perhaps a grain alcohol
of some sort.
    I had no idea what Coppelius mixed his with,
but I realized that the small amount given me had probably
accounted for my good mood—not discounting Olimpia's kiss, of
course. At least until Tap had started in on me.
    "Hmmm..." I had to think for a moment. "It
occurs to me that it might be advantageous to investigate the
nature of this compound. Don't you think, Tap?"
    "Mm-hmm..."
    "Do you suppose that's something a chemist
could do?"
    "I'm a raven, Eddy. How should I know?"
    I set the bottle down on my desk and sat
back, staring at it. Perhaps I was forgetting something. My eye
fell upon the label.
    "You know what you're forgetting, Eddy?" Tap
asked as if he had been reading my mind. Sometimes I thought he
could do just that, but I ignored him.
    "Yes!" I saw what it was. No sooner had I
felt the triumph of my discovery than I was overcome by a troubling
thought.
    "Here's what you're forgetting. If that is
such damning evidence as you say, you better be sure it can't be
linked to you before you go around babbling about it. After
all, it is in your possession now."
    The worm squirmed in my gut. I didn't know
what made me think of it, but I wished I hadn't.
    I flung open a drawer and withdrew a sheet of
paper. I dipped my pen and wrote "Laudanum" in a script
approximating that on the vial's torn label. My hand was shaking so
convulsively, I had to stop after the d and take several
deep breaths before I could continue. When I had written the word
out entirely, I put my pen down and examined my handwriting
closely, comparing it to that on the label.
    My capital L had an open loop at the
top, a large closed loop at the bottom followed by a short sweeping
horizontal leg. My eyes darted to the vial's capital L . Open
loop, closed loop, sweeping horizontal—
    My heart leapt into my throat.
    I snatched up my pen and frantically made a
series of additional L 's, thinking that I had subconsciously
imitated