He’d saved Prince Albert from being supplanted and he’d defeated his arch-enemy. He knew he should feel triumphant, but instead he felt strangely deflated. Unable to help himself, he was already reviewing the last few minutes and found – of all things – that he was wondering about Dr Tremaine’s strangely foppish clothing. A high collar? Gloves? And a cravat, of all things.
‘They’re both trapped inside?’ Caroline said, and Aubrey’s thoughts about male fashion instantly evaporated. She was looking intently at the pearl too, but not with suspicion – with calculation.
He nodded with more conviction than he actually felt. ‘It worked.’
Von Stralick limped over. One side of his face was swollen. ‘I think it may be prudent to leave now. The nurses have fled, but they’re sure to be back with reinforcements.’
Twenty-seven
That afternoon, Aubrey emerged from his meeting with the ambassador to greet Caroline and George. ‘The pearl is in the embassy safe and we’ll be able to take it back to Albion once this symposium is over. Hollows is already in communication with the Security Intelligence Directorate to let them know what’s happened.’
Caroline was standing at the window, gazing out at the passing traffic. Her face was thoughtful. ‘And Dr Tremaine will face trial?’
‘Certainly.’ Aubrey had worked through his fatigue. Now he was feeling satisfied and found it difficult to keep from smiling. Triumph on triumph, success on success. How could Caroline not be impressed? ‘Craddock’s people will work on keeping him powerless until his time in court. Magical suppressors should hold him, I expect.’
‘What about Sylvia?’ George said gruffly. He was sitting in an armchair, lingering over a large slice of layered apple and almond pastry.
‘I don’t think there are any charges against her. On her release she’ll be free to return to Holmland, or stay in Albion, whatever she likes.’
George dusted some crumbs from his lapels. ‘Could you really have used her as a lure?’
Aubrey dropped into a seat opposite George. ‘I thought I could.’ He poured himself a cup of tea. ‘You know, become all callous and calculating, greatest good for the greatest number, ends justify the needs, all sort of rationalisations like that.’
‘I wanted to.’ Caroline joined them but declined George’s offer of tea. ‘I wanted to take Tremaine, but not like that.’
‘I thought you were determined to use her,’ Aubrey said.
‘And I thought you were.’
‘Von Stralick was happy to do it,’ George said. ‘And Kiefer would have been, too, if he’d have been around.’
Aubrey was silent for a moment. ‘People behave differently in groups,’ he said finally. ‘We do things we wouldn’t when we’re alone.’
‘That’s right,’ George said. ‘People stand around waiting for someone to say “Hold on a minute” and when no-one does, they go ahead and commit awful deeds.’
‘Large groups of people are called nations,’ Caroline said.
Aubrey steepled his fingers in front of his chin. ‘Perhaps this is the time when we need a few more people to stand up and say “Hold on a minute”.’
‘They are, Aubrey,’ Caroline said. ‘But their voices aren’t heard over the din of the warmongers.’
‘The warmongers drown out the voices of reason,’ he said, ‘and the masses in the middle move in their direction.’
‘No need to be so gloomy,’ George said. ‘We’ve struck a blow here for the cause of righteousness, so to speak. You’ve saved the Prince from a horrible fate. And without Tremaine’s manipulating and scheming, Holmland’s plans will be knocked into a cocked hat.’
Aubrey sipped his tea. ‘Amazing man, really. Not afraid of getting his hands dirty, but a master strategist at the same time.’
He felt uneasy at that thought, but shook it off when Caroline pursed her lips. ‘Don’t sound so admiring of the man. He’s evil.’
‘So it seems,’ Aubrey said.
‘And tucked away safely,’ George said. ‘We survived the worst he could throw at us. Now all we have to survive is the symposium.’
Aubrey groaned. After their adventures, the prospect of enduring hours of esoteric lectures was less than appealing.
Prince Albert and Lady Rose came in, chatting. ‘Sit, sit,’ the Prince said as all three came to their feet. ‘Any chance of a fresh pot of tea?’
Aubrey rang for a maid. ‘Been on the social round?’
The Prince smiled. ‘That’s why I’m here.’
‘We’ve been at lunch with the Elektor.’ Lady Rose raised an eyebrow. ‘And the Chancellor.’
‘Among dozens of other dignitaries,’ the Prince added. ‘A garden party in honour of tomorrow’s symposium opening. Rather jolly, it was, in the best Holmland manner. An admirably energetic brass band kept going forever without seeming to draw breath.’
‘It’s bound to make a fascinating report,’ Aubrey said. ‘Er. I assume you’ve been told that’s the sort of thing you have to do while you’re here.’
Lady Rose made a face. ‘After we refresh ourselves here we both have to dictate our observations to a secretary.’
‘Father will pore over them,’ Aubrey said. ‘And what about the Chancellor? I’m sure he was suitably apologetic for the incident in the Elektor’s laboratory.’
‘Of course.’ The Prince smiled grimly. After reading Aubrey’s report on the incident, his anger had been coldly furious, and had hardened into an icy determination not to run away. ‘He was doing his best to be affable, but I’m not sure if it comes naturally to him,’ Prince Albert said. ‘Gave me a detailed explanation of the investigations he’d instigated, that sort of thing.’
‘I didn’t like the way the way he managed to bring Holmland industry into any conversation,’ Lady Rose said. ‘“We made these plates in our new ceramics plant in Wissebard.” “I like your dress. We have four new factories making similar fabric in Stahlbord.”’
‘He’s an advocate for his country,’ Prince Albert said as a maid brought in a new tea tray. The Prince helped himself, shaking his head when George offered him a slice of pastry. ‘You can’t criticise a leader for that.’
‘I suppose not.’ Lady Rose scowled. ‘I wish this whole symposium were over and we could head back home.’
Aubrey thought this an opportune time for his surprise. ‘We can relax a little now. You especially, Bertie. We’ve captured Dr Tremaine.’
The Prince was stirring his tea. He jerked, nearly sending his cup spinning away. ‘You did what?’ he said after he put down the cup and mopped at his sleeve with a monogrammed handkerchief.
‘We had a plan, you see,’ George said.
‘But it went topsy-turvy,’ Caroline said.
Aubrey nodded. ‘So while George and Caroline were wrestling with Dr Tremaine–’
‘At the hospital,’ Caroline put in.
‘At the hospital,’ Aubrey repeated, ‘I managed a bit of magic that trapped him in a pearl. With his sister.’
‘As neatly as that.’ Lady Rose looked from one face to the other. ‘I have the distinct impression that that was the merest outline of an outlandish affair. You’ve left out any incriminating parts, I take it?’
Aubrey shrugged, even though he knew the noncommittal answer wouldn’t escape his eagle-eyed mother. ‘The pearl is in the embassy safe. We’ll take it back to Albion when we go.’
‘I’m sure Craddock will be happy to take it off your hands,’ the Prince said. ‘And we can deal with this blackguard, once and for all.’
‘I hope so,’ Aubrey said and wondered why he felt as uneasy as he did.
The opening of the symposium was a gala affair. An annex of the Academy Hall had been given over to a trade display, with exhibitors from all over the Continent. Every display was bright, shiny and full of promise. Aubrey wasn’t surprised to see that Holmland industries dominated, with displays from chemical manufacturers, ironworks and some particularly cheerful armaments companies. Aubre
y and his mother strolled through the aisles, inspecting the booths. Aubrey saw this as the legitimate commercial aspect of the symposium, the daylight version of the sort of dealing Rodolfo was conducting in the far reaches of the Academy.
He brought himself up short as he came to a small booth. Inside, it was composed of tall, narrow bookshelves crammed with ancient books. A tall, spindly man was unpacking a trunk and peering at the shelves, looking for places for these new arrivals.
‘Books, Aubrey?’ his mother said.
‘Antiquarian books, I believe,’ Aubrey said. ‘Hello, Mr Thomson.’
The man at the stand straightened from writing in a ledger and, seeing Aubrey, smiled in a sickly manner. He adjusted his glasses. ‘Hello, young sir. Have we met?’
‘You are Thomson, of Thomson and Sons, Antiquarian Books?’ Aubrey said. ‘From Trinovant?’
Mr Thomson bowed. ‘Trinovant, Lutetia and Fisherberg.’ He chuckled, but Aubrey thought it forced. ‘As well as any other continental cities where there is a love of fine books.’
Lady Rose entered the booth and ran her eye over the nearest shelf. ‘Ah. You have one of Professor Hepworth’s works.’
The angular Mr Thomson hopped over. ‘Oh yes. The Matter of Matter, first printing. Quite valuable.’
‘I’ll take it,’ Lady Rose said. ‘For Caroline,’ she said to Aubrey.
He was chagrined. He should have thought of getting it for her.
‘So you travel a great deal,’ Aubrey said to the bookseller as he made out the receipt.
‘Hither and yon,’ Mr Thomson said. He placed the small book carefully on some best brown paper. ‘Backward and forward. I’m only here for a week or two before going back to Albion with a shipment. Busy, busy, busy.’
‘Really?’ Aubrey said. ‘Going on the Transcontinental?’
Mr Thomson snapped a length of string and tied the parcel with a flourish. ‘Of course. The Transcontinental is the best way to get about the Continent.’
‘Naturally,’ Aubrey said faintly. His mind was racing off in unexpected directions.
His mother took the parcel and tucked it in her bag. Then she spied something interesting at a booth opposite. ‘Look, Aubrey. Lutetian velvet.’
While his mother chatted in Lutetian with the fabric makers, Aubrey studied the program he’d picked up at the entrance to the Academy. It was a sterling production, displaying the best of Holmland printing and typography, and no doubt would have warmed the Chancellor’s heart.
His eyes opened. ‘Mother, did you know that Professor Mansfield was going to be here? She’s presenting on early magical languages.’
His mother turned with a length of rich purple in her arms. ‘Anne? I thought she was still in Aigyptos.’
‘So did I. She hasn’t been in touch with you?’
‘No. I must make a point to find her. I haven’t seen her in ages.’
Caroline and George made their way toward them through the crowd. Aubrey’s heart leaped to see Caroline. She was dressed in a stylish grey suit – long skirted, smart jacketed.
‘Your lecture theatre is set up,’ George said to Lady Rose. ‘After the opening, it’s Professor Heinz this morning with Forest Fungi of Farnsland, then lunch, then your show.’
‘We’ll make sure we get there during the lunch break, just to make sure nothing has been disturbed,’ Caroline said.
‘Wise,’ Aubrey said, ‘but we have those opening addresses to get through first.’
‘I’m looking forward to hearing the Elektor speak,’ Lady Rose said. ‘He said he’d been working on his speech for months.’ She studied the program. ‘And the Chancellor has some time as well. That should be interesting. More about bootmaking machinery or slate production, I should think.’
‘No doubt,’ Aubrey said, but his startled attention was on a familiar figure hurrying toward them.
‘Lady Rose,’ Hugo von Stralick panted. ‘If you’ll excuse us, I must speak to your son. Privately.’
‘Of course,’ Lady Rose said. ‘As long as your “privately” includes these two, for they look determined to be part of whatever conspiracy you’re hatching.’
Von Stralick glanced at the hovering Caroline and George. He pushed back his uncharacteristically unkempt hair. ‘Naturally.’ He took Aubrey’s arm. ‘Quickly, we must find somewhere to talk.’
‘The lecture theatre,’ George suggested. ‘The one where Lady Rose is going to talk.’
Von Stralick refused to say anything while they struggled through the crowds, out of the door and then down the cloistered walkway. Half of Fisherberg appeared to have descended on the Academy and the old buildings were echoing with excited conversation.
George held open the door and they slipped into the dimly lit, slightly dusty lecture theatre. It smelled of floor polish and chalk.
‘Now, what is it?’ Aubrey asked as von Stralick made sure the door was shut. His voice echoed from the hard wooden floors and the banked rows of empty seats.
Von Stralick was grim. ‘It’s Otto, the fool. I went to his rooms. I wanted to give him the good news about Tremaine.’
‘I hope he was pleased,’ Caroline said.
‘He was, but in an absentminded sort of way.’
‘I would have thought he’d be overjoyed,’ Aubrey said.
‘So did I. But he just smiled a little, congratulated me, and insisted he had to get back to his work.’
‘His work?’ George said. ‘And what is this important work he’s been so obsessed with? I thought he was going to be of some use here in Fisherberg.’
‘This prize he’s won. Because of it, he’s presenting a paper.’
Aubrey shrugged. ‘He told us that.’
‘But he neglected to mention that it was part of the opening ceremony.’
Startled, Aubrey whipped out the program. ‘I didn’t see his name anywhere.’
‘You are correct. But look at the item straight after the Chancellor.’
‘A Presentation from the Chancellor’s Prize Winner.’ Aubrey looked up. ‘That’s what he was talking about.’
‘Apparently.’
‘A lot of money, is it?’ George asked.
‘Otto wouldn’t say. But he was very pleased with himself and his prospects, it seemed.’
‘Quite a lot of mystery about this,’ Caroline said. ‘Surprise presentations, special prizes.’
Aubrey’s uneasiness was threatening to skip disquiet and grow straight into outright alarm. He clamped down on it. ‘So Kiefer is going to give a paper. Good luck to him.’
‘Heaven help us if he delivers it,’ von Stralick said, ‘because if he does, the world will be at war within a month.’
Von Stralick delivered this with a flat tone of voice, devoid of drama, which only made it all the more chilling.
‘This is the same Otto Kiefer we’re talking about?’ George said. ‘All knees and elbows? Makes a good scone but not much use otherwise?’
‘Once he was awarded this Chancellor’s Prize, he became obsessed with old documents from all over Fisherberg,’ von Stralick said. ‘He told me how he’d been digging in archives in the old Imperial Palace, and in private collections, and even in the records in the oldest churches. Once he finished one last bit of research, he was ready, he said, ready to claim for what was owed to him. He was babbling, words tripping over each other, and it looked as if he hadn’t eaten for a month.’
‘But what’s he on about?’ George asked. ‘Owed to him?’
‘His father was promised riches if he worked with Dr Tremaine on catalysts,’ Aubrey said, ‘but when he died, the family got nothing.’
‘Otto has always felt wronged,’ von Stralick said, ‘and always wanted what was due to him.’
‘But exactly what has he been researching?’ Caroline asked.
‘It was hard to make out, but it had something to do with your Prince Albert.’
Aubrey’s unease decided to put on lead boots and dance a little. ‘He wasn’t talking family histor
y, was he?’
Von Stralick darted a venomous look at Aubrey. ‘He said you’d know. He promised it would be the making of his career, thanks to Schweiger, the man who’d prompted him to look into this area.’
‘Schweiger?’
‘I’d never heard of him and, given Otto’s fawning attitude when he mentioned the man, I was suspicious. I asked for a description.’
‘Tall, pointed beard? Very dextrous? Black eye?’
Von Stralick sagged and sat on one of the first row of desks. ‘How did you know?’
‘I didn’t. I worked it out. Schweiger is Manfred.’ Manfred’s part in events was nagging Aubrey – mainly because such machinations suggested the involvement of someone altogether more dangerous.
‘Yes, Manfred is helping him,’ von Stralick said. ‘You see why I hurried to find you. I do not have a good feeling about this.’
Nor do I. Aubrey started for the door. He flung it open. ‘We were all convinced that Dr Tremaine was after the Prince. We forgot about feints.’
‘Calm down, Aubrey,’ Caroline said. ‘One thought at a time.’
‘That’s the point. You can’t keep one thought at a time with Dr Tremaine.’
‘Steady on, old man,’ George said. ‘Dr Tremaine is harmless, locked up in a pearl which is locked up in a safe.’
Aubrey stood still, one hand on the door knob. ‘That may be,’ he said. ‘But by now his plans have a momentum of their own. They can move ahead without him.’
‘But what was he planning?’ George said. ‘Surely he was after something.’
‘We know he wants war. It’s how he’s going to achieve it that’s the puzzle. But it’s pretty clear that here he had a great deal invested in Kiefer giving this paper, whatever is in it. Look at the effort he’s gone to in order to throw us off the scent.’
‘So we have to stop Otto reading this paper?’ Caroline said.
‘I’d say so. Generally, thwarting Dr Tremaine’s plans is an excellent idea for everyone except Dr Tremaine.’
Time of Trial Page 32
