Free Short Stories 2013
Page 44
“Doubtful. I suspect they are minions of my domestic political enemies.”
“Oh. And now I will do you one more service of a more personal nature. Please follow me.”
Again smiling broadly, Renfrew did as she asked and they passed through corridors and down companionways until they reached the door to the engineering spaces. Gabrielle had never been here before but she had studied the layout of the zeppelin carefully and knew what lay below. These areas were prohibited to passengers but she passed through without hesitation. Two crewmen working on an electrical generator looked up but then, as she anticipated, bowed quickly to Renfrew, then smirked and nudged each other as they saw Gabrielle leading him.
They passed along a narrow corridor, flanked by tanks of compressed gas which Gabrielle took to be hydrogen, then down another companionway and through a door into the open night air. The air was cold and the drone of powerful engines to either side assaulted her senses—Gabrielle was sensitive to loud noise—but her attention was immediately drawn to the landscape stretched below them. A winding river shone silver in the moonlight and the scattered lights of small villages among the miniature grey fields and forests seemed like enchanted fireflies which never winked out. The sense of height made her dizzy and she was completely aware that a man of Renfrew’s strength could simply throw her over the railing and no one would ever question him about it. Still, this was the only place she could also find a measure of safety.
The prince stood beside her, their shoulders touching, and he followed her gaze downward.
“Yes, the view is different without a glass window, isn’t it?” he said. “Somehow more immediate. I’ve never been down this low on the ship before.”
“Neither have I, but I noticed this platform when I boarded.”
She walked down the metal steps to the catwalk below, holding the brass railings for safety. When they were both there she turned to Renfrew.
“Now my service to you. The hydrogen leaks, but as it is lighter than air it all goes up. We are below the gas bags here. You may safely smoke your cigar.”
Renfrew looked around doubtfully. “That makes sense, but are you certain?”
“Observe,” she said, and pointed to several stubbed out cigarette butts near the side of the walkway. Renfrew smiled and lit his cigar. Gabrielle shivered in the cold and although Renfrew offered the loan of his coat, she refused. Instead she fit both of her hands into her cloth handbag, for warmth she told him. But inside the bag her right hand curled around the small LeFaucheux revolver. Firing it here would be as safe as Renfrew smoking his cigar. She slowly cocked the hammer and she rested her hands on the railing, the concealed pistol pointed at Renfrew’s torso and only inches away from it. For several minutes the two enjoyed the view in silence.
“How did Armbruster die?” she said at last. “Or should I ask, how did his blood splash on your shoe when no one disturbed the blood in the cabin?”
Renfrew took another long draw on his cigar before answering. “As the doctor said. He fell and hit his head on the table. He was quite drunk and when we hit a patch of turbulence, over he went. Damndest thing, and there I just stood for a moment. Well, there would be awkward newspaper headlines if I stayed around to explain, so I took what I came for and left.”
“Your fly rod case,” she said.
“Yes, although what I really wanted was hidden down in the bottom: a diamond necklace I had made in Amsterdam—Christmas present for my wife, Alexandra. It’s quite valuable, which I suppose is why Waldo pinched the case. Would you like to see it?”
“Merci, non. I never wear the jewelry. Its weight feels peculiar, especially around my neck. My clothes feel almost a part of me when I wear them, but jewelry feels hard and alien.”
“You wear a locket,” he observed.
“It was my mother’s before she died. I am used to it.”
Inside her handbag, Gabrielle carefully lowered the hammer of her revolver.
Renfrew took another long pull on his cigar.
“I assume you will be getting off at Vienna, now that you have what you want. You are a very odd young lady, Gabrielle, but I certainly hope to see you again.”
“Yes, I do as well, although I do not believe there will be the romance.”
“No?” he said and smiled.
“Non. You are a very handsome man, despite your thinning hair and being somewhat heavy.”
“You are too kind,” he murmured.
“Not at all. When I say something, it is because I believe it is true, never to flatter. So you are handsome. But your eyes show no pain, only determination or amusement. Either you have never felt pain, in which case you are a monster, or you are able hide it completely, in which case you are dangerous.”
“I must say,” he said after a moment, “you are quite good at avoiding flattery. The truth is I am rather occupied with Daisy Greville these days, so a romance would be unlikely in any case. But I would value your friendship.”
Gabrielle looked out over the railing and saw the clouds above them already pink with the dawn and the land below turning from black to grey. Far below she saw a flicker of movement, the wing of a hunting bird in a dive, perhaps an owl making the last kill of the night. She shivered.
“Why would someone take his own life?” she asked.
“I honestly can’t tell you,” Renfrew answered. “I won’t pretend that life is always easy or pleasant. It isn’t. But it’s so damned interesting. I can’t for the life of me see why someone would just step away.”
“Nor can I,” Gabrielle said.