by Giles
“Ship secure Sir.”
“Hence the lights going green on the tower Mr. Jones, yes thank you.” Phillips drawled as the winch pulled the Discretion to almost kiss the steel tower. “All engines stop. Drop the rear mooring lines as soon as can be.”
Getting up from his seat he surveyed the bridge and made sure he had everyone's attention.
“A very pleasant flight, and most informative regarding our ship’s capabilities gentlemen. Secure all stations then you’re dismissed. Please keep in mind Miss Smythe-Harris asked us to stay near-by.”
A chorus of “Aye Sir!” acknowledged his command and Jerard left the bridge. As soon as they had disembarked and the inspection was done, Jerard was determined to take Nichols up on his offer to see more of the Discretion. He rather disliked being surprised all the time by something that was supposed to be his command. However, this minor annoyance was tempered by his growing fascination for the eclectic nature of his new ship. What else have you to show me old girl? He thought and patted the bulkhead as he left the bridge.
Tash stepped out of the ship’s hatchway and onto the tower. The late afternoon sunlight poured across the moors highlighting what was left of the purple heather. She wished she had some talent with a needle and thread in order to capture the greens, grays and purples that spread like a quilt across the low hills. The sun was warm after the chill of the airship and Tash turned her face to experience every ray of it.
“The sun is nice, yes?” Gopal said softly. “Sometimes...” He sighed. “I do not think I will ever be warm again.”
Tash merely nodded her head in agreement; she had often thought the same thing. In the ten years they had lived on the British Isles Gopal had never once expressed a desire to return home. The wistful note in his voice reminded her that she too missed India. Perhaps it was time to return home, at least for a visit. She was long overdue to patch things up with her father.
“I suggest Tash that we move out of the way, there are others wishing to depart the ship.”
Tash turned around to see Wallace and Jones waiting patiently behind them. “Sorry Gentlemen, just enjoying the view.”
“Aye lass, the moors are a sight. But not a thing as compared t’ the marshes o’ me home.” Mr. Wallace took in a deep breath. “Although I will be saying they do smell a sight better!”
Tash laughed and began descending the stairs.
“Miss Tash, the lift will be here in a moment.” Mr. Jones suggested.
“I know.” Tash said airily. “But I’ve been cooped up in the ship all day and I feel the need to stretch my legs.”
The Welshman smiled. “We were thinking the same thing ma’am.”
As they neared the bottom Tash scanned the small knot of people waiting below them. She could easily pick out William and Constance Beardmore as both were unusually tall. Even from above Tash could see that the pair still looked at each other like newlyweds. She did not see William the elder, perhaps he was at the shipyards today, more and more he left the running of the airship factory to his son. Most of the faces she recognized but there was one that hovered at the edge of the group, that must be Carstares she thought.
Constance stepped forward first and grabbed Tash’s hands when they reached the ground level. “Tash! How lovely to see you!” The woman exclaimed loudly, then leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.
Tash returned the kiss trying hard not to gag on the cloying scent of roses emanating from her friend. “Constance! You look wonderful! Positively glowing! What brings you out here?”
“Oh Tash we have such wonderful news, I wanted to share it with you my self.” Constance turned a radiant smile on her husband. “Go on William, say your hello’s, Tash and I are off to prepare tea.”
William stepped forward and took the one hand that Constance freed. He politely bowed over it and murmured, “Hello Tash.”
Tash raised a quizzical eyebrow wondering why William was being so formal. Deciding to take his lead she curtsied and said, “Hello William.” The words barely made it out of her mouth before Constance began dragging her toward the hangar. The woman chattered like a magpie as Tash stumbled along behind. What is going on? She thought.
The whirlwind that had a hold of her hand finally stopped just inside the hangar doors. Constance let go of her hand but not before taking a good look around the silent empty building. “Sorry about that.” She said smoothing and straightening out her gown. “I don’t think I am very good at subterfuge.”
“Subterfuge? Constance, what’s going on here?” Tash reached up and straightened Constance’s feather and lace covered cap; it appeared to be trying to climb into her ear.
“Oh! Where to begin!” Constance was still flustered as evidenced by her hands, they alternated between wringing and waving about.
Tash was becoming concerned; this was no attack of the ‘vapors’. Constance was authentically distraught. “Let us start with the beginning dear.” Tash put her arm around her. “The first thing you have to do is calm down a bit.” She gave her a little squeeze and waited for the woman to stop shaking before continuing. “There now, that’s better. Tell me, what has you so upset?”
“I am afraid for you Tash! You are in real trouble this time!” Constance blurted out.
“Really?” Tash said curiously.
“Really! Tash! Please be serious! This is no joke!”
Tash adopted what she hoped was a very serious face. “How’s this?” She said before laughing.
“Stop it! Listen to me! They are going to try to arrest you!”
“Who is going to arrest me? And, on what charges!? Constance, please make sense.”
Constance pulled a folded piece of paper from her sleeve and handed it to Tash. “This is a telegram from Mr. Lovelace in London. Don’t read it now! We’ve got to get you back aboard the ship! Run!”
“Wha..” Tash began as Constance grabbed her hand and was off again.
This time Tash was somewhat ready, having had this racing about the airfield identified as ‘subterfuge’. Constance said “back aboard ship” so back aboard they shall go. Tash learned a very long time ago to follow her instincts even if they had her laughing merrily for no reason and running about like a lunatic. “Oh Constance! I am so excited!” She shouted. “You are going to love the present I brought to you!”
The two women raced toward the airship docking tower. As they passed the group of men standing at its foot Beardmore caught her eye and nodded slightly. There appeared to be a bit of an argument going on and it seemed the stranger was at the heart of it. As the pair boarded the docking tower lift and shut the gate the stranger shouted.
“Wait! You can’t go back in there! Wait I say!”
Tash smiled and waved at the stranger and slammed home the lift operation lever. She watched calmly as the man began to race up the tower stairs. Good try, she thought, but no one can run as fast as a Beardmore Custom Lift.
The lift box reached the top of the tower. Tash wrenched open the gate and shoved Constance out and partially up the ship’s gangway. “Go!” She shouted. Tash then moved to the other side of the tower and hit the winch release. Moving as fast as she could in the cursed skirts she made it to the gangway as it was beginning to rise. Leaping the few feet up the ramp Tash was startled to see Wallace standing at the gangway controls.
“Closin’ ‘er up ma’am.” He said with a wicked grin.
“I did not expect to see you here Sir.”
“Nor did I expect t’ be here! When we got t’ the bottom o’ the tower Mr. Beardmore told me t’ get back up there because I woulda be needed t’ close the gangway. Didn’t give me time for no questions. So here I am.”
“Excellent Mr. Wallace, most excellent. And I suppose Mr. Jones returned as well?”
“He did ma’am, don’t know what Beardie said t’ him ‘cause it was in that Welsh gibberish but Annie laughed all the way up the lift. He said to tell you ma’am he would be waitin’ on the bridge.”
“Well t
hen, shall we all go? It seems we’ve a bit of a mystery here.
“Aye ma’am. I’m a bit curious me self.” Wallace said as he motioned the ladies to proceed.
Tash could see the Landover brothers waiting for the trio as they reached the stairs leading down to B deck. Both men nodded and fell in behind them as they descended the steps. Tash noted that the Landovers were armed but did not comment.
The landing on B deck contained a number of grim faced crew members. These men also silently followed behind. Therefore it was no surprise that the rest of the crew were found gathered on the A deck. Tash moved past each and nodded acknowledgment of their presence. The warm greetings and feeling of solidarity caused her chest tighten. She realized that these men were not just her employees, they were her friends; here to support her in...in whatever this was.
Tash stepped onto the bridge to see Nichols, Jones, D’Arcey, Howell and Captain Phillips all waiting for her. “Well Gentlemen,” she turned to be sure she was addressing everyone. “Shall we see what this is all about?”
Constance spoke up without being prompted. “This morning we received a telegram from Mr. Lovelace. We weren’t entirely sure what it meant until a little later. It was addressed to you and Will both. It said that his meeting with Mansfield did not go well and he suspected there would be trouble. He asked us to stay near the telegraph and to let him know of anything suspicious.”
“Honestly Tash, we were quite confused.” Constance emphasized her point by shaking her head. “We had your telegram from last evening and knew what was going on. But we did not know who this Mansfield was or why he would be meeting with Mr. Lovelace. The second pair of telegrams added some clarity.”
“The first was addressed to Mr. William Beardmore from Lord Mansfield. It was ordering us to cooperate fully with Mr. Robert Carstares, an agent of the Crown. We were to give him whatever he needed and assist him in any way. It also informed us that this fellow would be arriving sometime in the late afternoon.” Constance rolled her eyes and somehow made the gesture look pretty. “Of course Tash we already knew this, you had telegraphed us last night and with much more information I might add. But OH! Dear Tash, you should have heard Will going on and on about this telegram. It was this damned Englishman this and this damned Englishman that and ‘who does he think he’s addressing? and ‘who does he think he is?’ ” Constance giggled nervously.
Tash found herself smiling. The women shared an ‘I know exactly what you are saying’ look. She had known the Beardmores, for nearly four years now. The elder William Beardmore was one of the jolliest and most likeable men Tash had ever met. Will’s mother had the Welsh sense of fun, to the point that Tash often found herself taken with fits of giggles whenever Gwynneth was around. But some how William the younger had inherited the full force of prickliness often found in both Scotsmen and Welshmen. No, it was no stretch to imagine Will’s tirade, especially since a ‘damned’ Englishman was involved.
“So,” Constance said, “Right in the middle of Will’s invective the telegraph machine begins clicking again. It was a message for Robert Carstares. You know, I feel sure that Lord Mansfield did not realize that Beardmore’s is the telegraph office for Inchinnan and indeed all of the villages around west Glasgow.”
Tash nodded in agreement and impatiently motioned for Constance to go on.
“The telegram to Mr. Carstares ordered him to have the local constable arrest you for interfering in a Crown matter.”
“What!” Nichols’ voice exploded into the silence left behind by the pronouncement. Angry murmurs rose up all around.
Tash held up her hand and waited until the room was quiet again before speaking. “What happened next Constance?”
“Will had our lad seal the message into an envelope to give to Mr. Carstares when he arrived. He next sent a telegram to Mr. Lovelace telling him what Lord Mansfield ordered Mr. Carstares to do. You are holding the reply from Mr. Lovelace.”
Tash nodded, unfolded the piece of paper and read aloud:
TASH GET BACK ON THE SHIP AND CAST OFF. STOP.
WILLIAM, I HAVE SENT TELEGRAM TO MCPHERSON WITH INSTRUCTIONS, HE WILL ARRIVE SOON. STOP.
Tash stopped reading and looked up. “Donald, I thought I saw your father down there.”
Donald McPherson grinned and nodded. “Da’s the best solicitor in Scotland, he’ll take care o’ this Miss Tash and enjoy it too I imagine.”
“Indeed Sir, indeed,” A faint smile played about Tash’s lips as she remembered her dealings with the fierce Scot, he drove a hard bargain and she was pleased that this time they would be sitting on the same side of the table.
Tash continued reading:
MANSFIELD/CARSTARES HAVE NO LEGAL GROUNDS TO ARREST TASH. THEY CAN TRY TO DETAIN FOR QUESTIONING ONLY IF CONSTABLE AGREES. CONSTABLE WILL NOT AGREE TRUST MAC. STOP.
THE CROWN I.E. MANSFIELD CANNOT TAKE A CITIZEN’S ASSETS WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION, NO WRITTEN PERMISSION HAS BEEN PRODUCED. STOP.
REPEAT, CANNOT LEGALLY COMMANDEER AIRSHIP. CAN ONLY BE DONE WITH YOUR PERMISSION. STOP.
LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR SOLUTION. STOP.
THE BALL IS IN YOUR COURT TASH. HAVE FUN. STOP.
“I say Miss Tash!” Howell piped up. “You’ve got that fellow by the short hairs!” The bridge and antechamber erupted in murmurs and chuckles.
Tash tapped a finger against her mouth in thought. The mad dash to re-board the ship now made sense. A Scottish constable could not arrest someone if they were not on Scottish soil and Carstares, as an agent of the Crown, could not arrest her if she were not on English soil. This was certainly an interesting conundrum. I wonder, she thought, does any Country’s law apply to an airship while it is in the air? Ocean going ships were bound by maritime law but to her knowledge there were no such laws that applied to the air. Tash made a note to file this intriguing question away; it should make for a lively discussion over drinks some evening.
“So what are you going to do Tash?” Constance asked, her face a mask of concern. “Wouldn’t it be better to just turn the ship over to this Carstares fellow and come home with me? This sounds awfully dangerous.”
“Bah!” Tash said waving a dismissive hand at Constance. “I hardly think flying to Norway is dangerous. Mr. Carstares will be aboard to take care of the actual apprehension of the criminals and retrieve their captive. We are only acting as transport. As for turning the Discretion over to this man? I don’t think so! Constance, think a moment, would you turn over a company asset worth as much as this ship to a total stranger? That was the point Lovelace was making in his telegram. No, my dear friend, where the Discretion goes, I go.”
“So I take it you are going to allow that blackguard aboard?” Nichols said disapprovingly.
“Of course I am, if he behaves himself. There’s a lot at stake here gentlemen, more than I have explained.” Tash sighed. “Some of you may remember our first flight to London. With us then were Miss Millie Nordstrom and her father Professor Everard Nordstrom. Miss Nordstrom has flown with us many times.”
Mr. Howell chuckled. “I remember the elder gentleman well ma’am. He had wild gray hair and a considerable beard to match. The poor man spent the entire trip in his cabin, quite airsick. Um, that is why I remember the beard so well.”
“Yes, well thank you for that Jon.” Tash said firmly, hoping to dissuade further discussion in regard to airsickness. “However, the point I was trying to make when you related that fascinating tale is Professor Nordstrom is the man who was kidnapped.”
“Oh Tash! No!” Constance’s arm went around her shoulders. Nichols and Howell both reached out to touch her in comfort as well.
It was all Tash could do to not break down in tears. She had wanted to from the moment Lord Mansfield had revealed the situation. But she would not, tears were useless at this moment and a luxury she could not afford. She straightened her spine and shrugged gently out of Constance’s embrace.
Jerard had kept silent, up until this point, watching the d
rama unfold. “Well then ma’am, Gentlemen it seems our direction is clear. I would like to point out that the ship has been drifting about aimlessly for the last few minutes. I suggest we all get to our stations and fire her up.” Jerard looked pointedly at the crewmen huddled in the antechamber. He was rewarded with the sound of scurrying feet as he turned to the engineers. “Mr. Nichols, when all is ready please engage engines. Mr. Wallace take the helm, turn her about to hover near the docking tower, maintain a height of 300 feet.” Jerard turned to face Tash. “Madam, I find that like Mr. Lovelace, I too am looking forward to your solution.” His statement was rewarded with a mischievous smile from Tash.
“Then I suppose I should get to it! Mr. Jones, please hail Inchinnan tower.”
“Yes ma’am!” Jones chortled as he sat back down at his control station. “Inchinnan tower, please come in Inchinnan tower. This is the Discretion.”
“Reading - you - Discretion”
Jones stood and offered his seat to Tash.
“Inchinnan tower, this is Theodosia Smythe-Harris do you read?”
“Confirmed – Miss – Smythe –Harris – what – can – we – do – for - you?” Despite the limits of the radio’s speaker Tash could swear she heard a note of wry amusement in the radio operator’s voice.
“I wish to speak with Mr. Carstares.”
“He’s – right – here - ma’am. – One – moment - please.”
“Now – see - here!” Came a new voice over the speaker. “What’s – this – all - about! - I demand – you – land – that – airship - immediately!”
“Do you now? Somehow I do not think you are in a position to make demands Sir.”
There was a long silence and then a burst of static before several angry voices could be heard. The silence returned again. Tash sat patiently at the desk while watching her crew put the airship in motion. The brief sound of the argument had let her know that McPherson was on the job. Another crackle sounded from the radio.
