by Joseph Gatch
“I’m sorry, sir, but only the Queen can get me to divulge that information. And I drink tea,” the clerk said with contempt.
“Of course you do. And just how are we supposed to get the Queen to come down here?” Phineas began pacing in circles while the clerk watched him with a bemused expression.
William held up his hand to the clerk. “Just one second.” He took Phineas by the shoulders. “I think I know what he means. Trust me; this is what I do for a living.” William sidled up to the counter and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a coin and laid it on the counter. “Oh, look there, the Queen has come to visit.” He looked up at the clerk, who stared down at the money. “Maybe a visit from her twin…or triplet would help? My, she has a big family.” The clerk reached for the money, but William slammed his hand down on top of it. “Ah, ah…information first.”
“An automaton brings the ads in every week. He says that they are from a ‘Doctor M.’.”
“How many ads?” asked Phineas.
“About ten all together. Mostly ranting about the state of society or gibberish like that.”
“I need to see them,” stated Phineas.
“I need to see another sister.”
Phineas nodded to William, who pulled out another coin and handed it to the clerk.
“I’ll be right back.” A few minutes later, the clerk returned with a box and dumped the contents out, which consisted of a pile of papers, ranging from small slips to several pages bound together.
Phineas gathered them up, said a quick thank you, and began walking out the door.
“Hey! You can’t take that!” the clerk said, trying to keep his voice down so that his coworkers wouldn’t hear.
“Tell it to the Queen,” Phineas threw back as he kept walking.
“See, that’s how you do things in the real world. You need to get out of that classroom from time to time,” William said once they were outside.
“Bribes? Is that how you get things that I need?” asked Phineas.
“Favors. Why do you think some of your gadgets cost so much? I have to grease the right wheels.”
“I find your shadiness most refreshing. I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”
“Thank you. Now, what does our Doctor M. have to say?”
They sat down on the steps outside of the newspaper office and began leafing through the papers. When they were finished, Phineas had come to the following conclusion.
“These are the nonsensical ravings of a lunatic! It’s no wonder that no one took him seriously. His ‘manifesto’ is complete gibberish, his demands are moronic…’socks shall only be worn on Tuesdays when there is over sixty percent cloud cover’…what the devil is that about?”
“So, we are at another dead end?” asked William.
“No. I am convinced that he is the one. Juvenile as it may seem, there is an underlying tone about this that screams ‘sinister’. He has destroyed once, and he will destroy again. We need to interview every doctor in London whose first or last name begins with ‘M’.”
“And how are we going to do that?”
“We’ll use our connections. Constable Fuller said that she would assist us in any way possible. I’m sure that she can get us a list. There,” Phineas pointed to a police call box, “we’ll use that.” They crossed the street and Phineas rattled the door to the box. “Who locks an emergency call box? Don’t they believe in public service around here? Time is of the essence here. Lord, help these people if there was an actual emergency. I tell you, nothing surprises me about this country anymore. If you told me that this box could fly away, I’d be inclined to believe you.”
“Are you finished?” asked William.
“Yes,” Phineas said, stomping away. “Let’s try another place.”
“Well, at least she didn’t call you crazy to your face,” William said as they exited Scotland Yard for the second time that day. “Wanting to bother half the doctors in London and then going on about call boxes that they say don’t exist, like it appeared out of thin air…I’ll be happy if we aren’t committed by the end of the day.”
“But, we have the list,” said Phineas. “We’ll divide the city in half and see what we can find.”
“And what are we looking for?”
“An automaton for one thing, and a doctor who has a lab…similar to my own, I should think,” said Phineas.
“What do I do if I find him?”
“Come straight back to the hotel and wait for me. Otherwise, we will meet back there at seven. That should be enough time.”
It wasn’t enough time.
Phineas had been running through his half of the list and still had over twenty names left to go. Everyone that he had interviewed had either slammed the door in his face or threatened to call the police. He had written all of them off as arrogant buffoons who couldn’t splice a wire, let alone build a bomb, and to make matters worse, the cab driver that he had hired suddenly abandoned him, leaving him stranded. Apparently, the promise of money wasn’t as good as payment upon each address.
So, Phineas was walking.
His feet were killing him from the uneven cobblestones, and visibility was getting worse by the minute. He hoped that William was faring better than he was, and Phineas checked his watch to see what time it was. Six thirty. He needed to find his way back to the hotel.
An odd squeaking sound was coming from somewhere in the fog, and soon, several large shapes manifested in the gaslight. As they drew closer, they took the form of several well- dressed men in bowler hats riding penny farthings. They approached Phineas and began circling him, ten in all. They stared as they rode around him, and the gaslight glinted off of their well-waxed handlebar moustaches. Phineas stood watching the silent procession, curious what they were up to, until one of the men acrobatically leaped from his bicycle and landed right in front of him.
“Good evening, sir,” the man said.
“Good eve—” Phineas was cut off as the man punched him square on the nose. Phineas staggered backwards into the arms of another man, who quickly pulled Phineas’ wallet from inside his coat. The man removed what money there was and then replaced the wallet. Phineas was pushed back towards the first man, who straightened Phineas’ coat and brushed him off with a small whisk broom. The man then smiled and quickly punched Phineas again, knocking him to the ground where yet another man handed him a cup and saucer.
“You have been served, sir,” the third said, and they quickly took to their penny farthings and rode away.
Phineas, stunned, took a sip from the cup and spat it out. “Tea. I hate this country,” he said, tossing the cup aside and then passing out.
“They are called the League of Disgruntled Gentlemen’s Gentlemen…a band of butlers turned to a life of crime. You were in an affluent part of the city, so you were a target.” Constable Fuller took the compress from Phineas, whose nose was broken. “You’re lucky those doctors complained about you. I had a hunch it was you and came out looking. You probably would have been lying there all night.”
“It could have been William,” Phineas said.
“No, we had no complaints from the side he was checking, only compliments on the diligence of our investigators. I didn’t have the heart to tell them he didn’t work for us. We need all the good publicity we can get. Is he looking for a job, per chance?”
“You wouldn’t want him. He has anger issues.”
“He seems pleasant enough. You, on the other hand, don’t play well with others. Do you?”
Phineas glared at her. “We still have little to go on, and another bomb will probably detonate tonight.”
“We have constables on the look-out, though I don’t know what they can do about it if they find it. We have no bomb experts that could diffuse it in time.”
“We’ll just have to hope for the best,” said Phineas. “I need to get back to my hotel and see about some sleep.”
“Do you need a ride? I still have the carriage out front.”
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“Since I have no money and I am dead tired, I think that I will take you up on that offer.”
As they rode to the hotel, Phineas began nodding off until something caught his eye in the fog. At first he thought that he was dreaming, and then he shot to full consciousness.
“Stop the carriage!” he shouted, banging on the ceiling. But before it stopped, Phineas leaped from the door, leaving a bewildered Constable Fuller behind. When the carriage did stop, she followed him out into the fog and found him crouched next to a squat barrel with a blinking light on top. There was also a chirping sound coming from it.
“What is it?” she asked.
“This?” answered Phineas. “This is a work of art…and it is going to turn two miles of the city into a crater.”
EPISODE
5
“A bomb? Are you sure?” asked Constable Fuller as she cautiously looked at the device that Phineas had discovered.
“Do you have trash bins that blink and chirp?”
“Not that I am aware of.”
“Then it’s probably a bomb,” Phineas said, opening a pouch on his belt. He withdrew a multi-tool and began unscrewing the casing.
“Wait! Is that wise?” asked Fuller.
Phineas looked up without stopping. “If I’m going to die, then at least I’m going to do it with an idea why. Right now, I’m the closest thing to a specialist that you have got.”
“And you are qualified? You’re just…just an American. No offense.”
“I’ll try not to take any,” Phineas quipped, taking off the front panel. The chirping and flashing began to increase in speed. “Oh, look at you. Aren’t you a thing of beauty?” Phineas stared at the inner workings of the device. Wires, cogs, and spinning dials all surrounded a pint-sized container containing a glowing green gelatinous liquid.
“Well? Do something!” Fuller said, the panic in her voice obvious.
“Quiet! I’m thinking.” As he stared at the bomb, paths were made clear, functions became obvious, and he unfolded the clippers on his multi-tool. Carefully, he inserted the clippers into the device as the bomb’s warnings came faster and faster. He snipped one wire, a second wire, and then a third.
The device went silent.
Phineas stood up and skillfully flipped his tool back into the pouch.
“It’s harmless now,” Phineas said, and much to his shock and surprise, Constable Fuller grabbed him and kissed him full on the lips. When she finally parted, Phineas stood there, eyes wide and at a total loss for words.
“Sorry,” she said, “spur of the moment celebration and all. Whoohoo!” she added unconvincingly, raising her fist.
“Well…um…I think that we should get this thing to a safe place. Help me load it into the carriage,” Phineas said. They each took a side and tried to lift the device. Their faces turned bright red from the strain, and they both released their grips at the same time. “Okay, I can see why he uses an automaton.”
“I can have a few of the maintenance bots come take this to the Yard. You should go to the hotel and get some rest.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I would like to tag along and get some insight on this thing,” said Phineas.
“Just what do you do, Mr. Frakture?” Fuller asked suspiciously. “You seem to know a little too much about explosives.”
“I teach mechanics and engineering.”
“So, you could probably tell us how this was made and who could have built it?”
“Possibly. I could at least narrow the field down to what qualifications they would need to build this. I am not familiar with any of your scientists,” Phineas said.
“Good, that’s a start. We work well together, don’t you think? Now, if we only had one of those call boxes that you claimed to have seen. That really isn’t a bad idea. Maybe we will institute something like that. It would be handy to have if anyone needed a Bobby or, say, a Doctor.”
Phineas dragged himself into his hotel room at two in the morning. He had been scouring the device for clues as to who had made it, but came up empty handed. The liquid at the center of the device defied any identification; and though he was no chemist, he had a feeling that it was the custom formula and catalyst of whoever created the bomb. After running out of ideas, he bade Constable Fuller good night, much to her disappointment, and rode to the hotel, courtesy of Scotland Yard.
Phineas was awakened at seven in the morning by a banging at his door. He crawled out of bed, his feet still throbbing, his face swollen, and feeling like that Hyde character had taken a swing at him.
He opened the door to find Abigail standing at the threshold. Her eyes narrowed, her nose scrunched up, and then she slapped Phineas across the face.
“Good morning to you, too,” Phineas said as she stormed off.
William pushed past him carrying a box of pastries and a newspaper. “What happened to you last night?”
“What the devil was that all about?” asked Phineas.
William looked closely at him. “Do you normally wear lip color?”
Phineas went to a mirror where he wiped off the remnants of Arabella Fuller’s make up. “That certainly explains her irrational behavior.”
“Seemed logical enough to me, but as I started to say,” William held up the newspaper, “how did this happen?”
The front page of the paper showed a photo of Constable Fuller with Phineas in the background looking at the device that he had dismantled last night. The headline read: ‘Scotland Yard Foils Second Bombing Attempt.’
Phineas grabbed the paper from William and read through the article. “It says that she stopped the whole business of the bomb exploding. All she did was kiss me when I disarmed the thing and transported it to the Yard. She’s taken all the credit!”
“Not that you care about that,” said William. “So, did you have any luck finding this guy? I certainly didn’t, though I have a few names left to check. And what happened to your face?”
“Long story involving butlers.”
“Hmm. I met some nice ones, though I had enough tea to last me a lifetime.”
“Yeah, I got that too. We should set out together today and finish our search,” Phineas suggested.
“Of course, we can get into twice as much trouble in half the time.”
After an entire morning of canvasing the last of the city for ‘Doctor M’, Phineas crossed off the final name and sighed. “That’s it. Those were all the Doctor M’s in London. What now?”
“Maybe he isn’t in London. Could he be from outside the city?” asked William.
“I doubt it. That automaton probably wouldn’t travel a great distance with newspaper ads and bombs. He must be somewhere in the city.” Phineas looked around and his eye caught a street sign. “Why does that sound familiar?” He quickly pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. “Of course! This is where the doctor that I was telling you about lives. Yes, just down this way. I don’t think he will mind if we drop in unannounced.”
They hiked up the street a ways until they came to a dreary looking home. Phineas knocked on the door and, after a few moments, it was opened by a small, middle-aged man.
“Hello, I’m Phineas Frakture. I’ve been in correspondence with Doctor Henry Jekyll. Is he in at the moment?”
“I’m Jekyll,” said the man. “So you’re the one with the…” he stopped suddenly as his eyes adjusted to the light and he focused more clearly on Phineas and William. “YOU!” His voice was suddenly deeper and, before their eyes, the nondescript Dr. Jekyll transformed into the nefarious Mr. Hyde. “TESLA BOY!”
“Aw, crap! Run!” shouted Phineas…and once again Phineas and William took off as fast as they could.
“And that was the doctor that was supposed to help me?” asked William as they ran.
“Well, he apparently has experience with mutative disorders,” replied Phineas.
“If it’s all the same to you, I think that I will skip any further sessions with him.”
“Ag
reed. Should we stop or keep running?”
“Keep running. Definitely keep running,” said William.
Once they were beyond collapsing, the duo found a public place where they could get their wind.
“I think that we should head for Scotland Yard to see if there are any developments,” Phineas finally said.
“You go. I’m going to go back to the hotel and die for a while.”
“Fine. I’ll be back shortly,” Phineas said, heading off.
The walk took longer than he had hoped and, when he finally arrived, he was given the runaround by the clerks until Fuller showed up and brought him back to the room where the bomb was stored.
“I saw the paper today,” said Phineas. “Does Scotland Yard always take the credit for others’ work?”
Fuller flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, that. I’m really sorry. The inspectors felt that an American diffusing the bomb would look bad, not only for us, but for the country as a whole. These are sensitive times.”
“Of course,” Phineas answered hesitantly. “It’s not like we want to build relations with each other or anything. Has there been any progress identifying that liquid?”
“None, yet. It baffles every chemist we have in our employ.”
“So, still no way of tracing where it came from.”
“Sorry,” said Fuller. “I wish that there was more that I could do. Perhaps we could discuss the case further…over dinner? Maybe we can improve our international relations as well.” She batted her eyelashes at Phineas, who started to back away towards the door.
“Well…that’s a nice offer…but…I have plans. Maybe another time. I have to go.” He quickly opened the door and ran outside. “I’ve been slapped enough for one day, thank you,” Phineas said to himself. “I guess there is nothing left to do but go back to the hotel.”
Another hour later, Phineas walked into his hotel and knocked on William’s door, hoping that he was awake. The door opened and, as Phineas started to walk in, William suddenly slammed the door in his face.
