by George Mann
It slid across the rocks, its appendages curling and wriggling as it propelled itself along, its downy fur flattened and dripping. It scuttled towards a crevice in the rocks, squeezing into what Veronica assumed to be a small, artificial cave system or habitat.
“It’s unnatural,” said Veronica. “Repellent.”
“It’s a remarkable achievement,” said Newbury.
“But those poor creatures…” said Veronica. “It’s monstrous. Think of how they must have suffered.”
Newbury was quiet for a moment. “Come on,” he said, after a while. “There’s more to see.”
“If it’s more of the same, I’m unsure I want to see it,” she said as he led her out of the darkened passageway.
A moment later they reemerged into the bustle and clamour of the main exhibition hall. It took a moment for Veronica’s eyes to readjust to the light.
Close by, a large crowd had gathered around what appeared to be a huge glass enclosure. She couldn’t see what was within, other than the fronds of a few small trees peeking above people’s bobbing heads. There was an insistent tapping sound, too, as if something was repeatedly striking the glass. It reminded her of the noise made by Bainbridge when he rapped on Newbury’s front door with the end of his cane.
As she approached the exhibit, Newbury in her wake, whatever was inside the enclosure emitted a shrill, primal screech that caused the skin of her forearms to prickle with gooseflesh. She felt the bass rumble of it in the pit of her stomach, and her every instinct told her to flee. Instead, she pressed on, manoeuvring through the jostling crowd. They parted easily enough as she pushed towards the front.
What became apparent in the first instance was that there were not one but two creatures inside the enclosure. It took her a moment to come to terms with exactly what she was seeing. They were like something drawn from a nightmare of a deranged fantasist: two enormous birds, each at least ten feet tall, with plumages in all the gaudy colours of the rainbow, indigos, yellows, reds, and blues. They stalked about on two legs, splayed, taloned feet reminiscent of huge lizards. Their beaks were large enough that she imagined they could take off a person’s head in a single, snapping motion, and their beady eyes were darting and urgent, eyeing the crowd through the plate glass.
One of them opened its immense jaws and emitted another shriek, its pink tongue wriggling inside its mouth like a captive snake. It hissed and darted forward, its small, useless wings twitching as it thundered across the enclosure, butting against the glass and causing the crowd to fall back with a collective intake of breath. The barrier flexed in its housing but held firm. The creature shook its head in frustration, stepped back, and began rapping its curved beak against the glass pane once again, as if was attempting to chip away the glass in an effort to get at the gathered people outside.
To Veronica they might as well have been prehistoric beasts somehow resurrected in the here and now, excavated from the archives of history and renewed through some dark art or technology. She glanced at Newbury, who was reading the information plaque beside the enclosure.
“They were found in the Congo,” he said, when he noticed her looking. “A whole colony of them, living amongst the ruins of an ancient civilisation. It says here they can swallow a creature the size of a small dog.”
Veronica’s eyes flicked back to the twin beasts, which had now returned to stalking around the perimeter of their enclosure, heads bobbing nervously. One of them began pecking at something on the ground, its long neck snaking round as its razor sharp beak tore at the object, gouging chunks from it. She realised with disgust that it was the remains of a goat.
“Vicious brutes, aren’t they?” came a familiar voice from behind Veronica. “I certainly wouldn’t wish to encounter one in a dark alleyway.”
She turned to see Bainbridge standing behind her, a smile on his lips. “It’s good to see you, Miss Hobbes.” He watched the beasts for a moment with what appeared to be equal parts horror and admiration. “Dreadful things,” he said.
“Beautiful, though, in their own way,” said Newbury, joining them. “Good afternoon, Charles.” Bainbridge inclined his head. “I must say, I’m delighted with the rather impressive venue that you and Archibald selected for our little rendezvous.”
Bainbridge laughed. “Yes, I thought you’d like it. Although I fear I cannot take any credit. Archibald picked the place. Something about killing two birds with one stone.” He glanced at the two birds in the glass pen with a grin. “He said it was the perfect place for him to clear up a little misunderstanding.”
Veronica raised a sardonic eyebrow. “A little misunderstanding?”
Bainbridge shrugged. “You know as much as I do, Miss Hobbes.” He glanced at Newbury. “Any word?”
“From Aldous?” He shook his head. “No, not yet. I did, however, pay a short visit to the Prince of Wales this morning.”
“You did what?” said Bainbridge, aghast.
“It occurred to me,” said Newbury, “that in the Prince we might find an ally. The other day when he visited Chelsea, he expressed his concerns for his mother’s … health. He said that I should call if there was ever anything he could do to help.”
“And?” prompted Veronica. She was as surprised as Bainbridge to hear Newbury’s announcement.
“So I asked about that list of agents we needed. If Her Majesty was not prepared to let us see it, it struck me that perhaps there was another way.” He grinned to himself as their expressions changed.
“Let me get this straight, Newbury,” said Bainbridge, apparently flabbergasted. “You called on the Prince of Wales to ask for his assistance in obtaining sensitive materials behind the back of the Queen herself?”
“Yes, well. I suppose it does sound rather sensational when you put it like that,” said Newbury, laughing.
Bainbridge grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “The sheer audacity of it! Well, man, what did he say? Did he throw you out on your ear?”
“He said there were people at the palace he could trust, and that I should return to Marlborough House tomorrow evening to collect the information we needed. He’s very much on our side in this matter, Charles.”
Bainbridge chuckled. “At last, some good luck. Well done, Newbury.” He glanced down at his pocket watch. “Right, well, we’re meeting Archibald by a particular exhibit. Some sort of search lamp, designed to be mounted on the belly of an airship, I believe.”
Newbury nodded. “Similar, I’m guessing, to that one just over there?” he said, chuckling as he pointed across the hall. Veronica followed his gaze. About twenty feet away, through the milling crowds, she could see a large silver lamp mounted on a swivel housing. A man in overalls was demonstrating the device, throwing a brilliant beam of light up and out through the transparent ceiling of the Crystal Palace. A small crowd of onlookers were marvelling.
“Come on,” said Newbury, brightly. “Let’s see if we can’t find the professor.” He led Bainbridge away towards the search lamp exhibit.
Veronica took one final look over her shoulder at the two massive birds in their enclosure, shuddering as they continued to rend flesh from the now barely distinguishable remains of the goat. Then, with some trepidation, she followed Newbury and Bainbridge as they started off in search of their somewhat dubious friend.
CHAPTER
16
Bainbridge had a concerned look etched on his face. In fact, thought Veronica, he was looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“What is it, Charles?” said Newbury quietly, so as not to draw attention to their small group as they stood on the sidelines of the search lamp exhibit, watchful for the arrival of Professor Angelchrist.
“It’s just … these faces, Newbury,” he replied, quietly. “There are men in the crowd that I recognise.”
“How so?” asked Newbury.
Bainbridge frowned, but didn’t answer.
“From the Yard?” said Veronica.
“No. They’re Service men. Archibald’s men
,” he replied, after a moment, as if lost in thought.
“You mean to say that we’re presently surrounded by agents of the Secret Service?” said Newbury. His expression was a little strained, and Veronica wondered again what was going through his head. Was he having second thoughts? Doubts about Angelchrist’s motives?
Bainbridge nodded slightly. “In a manner of speaking,” he replied, glancing from side to side. “Yes. I’d say we’re pretty much surrounded.”
Veronica swallowed. “A trap? Is that why Angelchrist picked this place?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Bainbridge, a bit too hastily. He shook his head, adjusted his tone. “That’s not it at all. There must be something else going on here. Something that we’re not aware of.”
“Well, it’s hardly surreptitious,” said Veronica. She glanced round, searching the faces in the crowd. She couldn’t help imagining that any one of them might be watching her with malicious intent.
Directly behind them was the giant bird exhibit. To the left was a singing and dancing automaton of a woman, clothed in a fine red dress, its hips swaying provocatively as it mimed to the recording of an opera singer. To the right, a skeleton that looked like it came from a prehistoric giant was mounted on a large stone plinth, the fossilised bones dark and roughly hewn from the bedrock. It towered above the people below, posed as if reaching out a hand in supplication. Each of the exhibits were surrounded by thronging masses of people. Any or all of them might have been Secret Service agents, as far as Veronica knew.
“How many?” asked Newbury.
“At least a dozen,” said Bainbridge. “There may be more that I’m unaware of, but that’s half the men we have in London, concentrated around this exhibit.”
“Concentrated around the exhibit where Professor Angelchrist suggested we meet,” said Veronica, sceptically.
“Something’s certainly going on,” continued Bainbridge, ignoring her remark. “An operation, perhaps.”
“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation,” said Newbury. “This has to have something to do with that ‘misunderstanding’ Archibald referred to.”
“Look, here he comes,” said Bainbridge, visibly relaxing now that he’d caught sight of the professor. “I’m sure he’ll set everything straight.”
“Remember, Charles,” said Newbury, a note of caution in his voice, “we must be careful here. If it gets back to the Queen that we’re having this meeting at all…”
“I know, I know,” said Bainbridge, irritably. “Although I fear it may already be a little late for that, given that we’re presently surrounded by Archibald’s associates.”
“Yes, well, be that as it may, we mustn’t simply throw caution to the wind. Just keep in mind that, as far as any onlookers are concerned, we’re here to take in the exhibits. Any conversation we have with Archibald must be conducted with the utmost care,” said Newbury, firmly.
Bainbridge nodded.
The professor continued to circle around the perimeter of the exhibit, giving the lamp what appeared to be an appraising look. He was smartly dressed in a brown tweed suit, white shirt, and black cravat, and carried a smouldering briar pipe in his left hand. He was wearing an expression of devout concentration as he slowly edged through the crowd, finally coming to stand beside Newbury a few moments later. He placed the pipe in the corner of his mouth and folded his arms over his chest.
“There’s a lot of fuss being made over such an unobtrusive little object,” he said, turning to meet Veronica’s eye and smiling. “Good afternoon, Miss Hobbes.”
“Good afternoon, Professor,” she said. He offered her an impish grin. Once again, now that she was faced with the man, she felt herself warming to him. He was nothing if not charming, and she could see why Newbury and Bainbridge had been taken in by those charms. But the fact remained: They were currently encircled by a team of agents at least four times their number, possibly more. She couldn’t help but feel as if she’d been lured into a trap.
“Gentlemen,” said Angelchrist, acknowledging the others.
“A lot of fuss?” asked Newbury.
“Indeed,” said Angelchrist. “I’ll come to that in a moment. We don’t have a great deal of time, however, so I think it’s best we get straight to the heart of the matter. I had the gist of it from Clarkson, of course. I gather Her Majesty has rather taken against our little operation.”
“To put it somewhat mildly,” said Bainbridge. “She’s accused the Service of being behind the recent spate of killings, the victims of which, it transpires, all happen to be agents affiliated with the Crown. It’s preposterous.”
Angelchrist smiled. “I can’t blame her, Sir Charles. Of course, she’s quite wrong. I’m as baffled about these deaths as you are. But it doesn’t surprise me that she feels threatened by the growing strength of the Service, however noble our motives.”
“We’ll have to tread carefully from now on, Archibald,” said Bainbridge, quietly. “She’s ordered us to sever all links with you and your men.”
Angelchrist nodded. His face looked a little drawn and tired. “So be it,” he said, levelly, giving away very little.
“We do, however, have another possible lead in our investigation,” said Newbury. “I understand from the Prince of Wales that there are foreign agents abroad in London, and in particular agents of the Kaiser, here with the express intent of undermining the Queen’s position. It seems likely that they may be responsible for targeting the Crown agents in an effort to further such aims. Charles thought you may be able to shed further light on the subject.…”
“Indeed I can, Sir Maurice, but I fear it may not be the answer you’re looking for.” He glanced at Bainbridge. “I imagine you’ve noticed we have company?”
“If you mean that the place is swarming with Service men, then yes,” said Bainbridge. “I had rather noticed the fact.”
Angelchrist nodded. Again, he met Veronica’s eye, as if reading her mind, knowing that his explanation was needed more for her benefit than the others’; that he still had work to do to convince her of his trustworthiness. “You’re right about the Germans, in that they do have agents here in London. Their motives, however, are somewhat different from what you’ve imagined.”
“Go on,” said Veronica, drawn in to his explanation despite herself.
“The Kaiser fears his grandmother has designs on his throne. It’s clear that the Queen wishes to extend the reach of the Empire, but Wilhelm refuses to bend to her will. As a result, the Queen is furious with him, and he’s now attempting to arm himself in preparation for her reprisal.” Angelchrist glanced back at the search lamp. “Our investigations have suggested that the Kaiser’s agents will make an attempt to seize this experimental search lamp today. As you can see, it’s designed to be mounted beneath the gondola of an airship, so that the column of light might shine down upon the landscape or city streets below. However, a German hermetist, Gruder, has posited a theory that such a lamp could be focused through a narrow lens, intensifying the beam and turning it into a formidable weapon.”
“A focused beam of light and heat,” said Newbury, astounded. “The devastation they could wreak from the skies … They could set the entirety of London aflame.”
“Quite so,” said Angelchrist, lowering his voice. “Which is why we’re now surrounded by as many service men and women as I could muster. The creator and his plans have already been secured. We cannot allow them to get away with this prototype.”
“But why not simply remove the prototype?” asked Veronica. “Why leave it here in an exhibition hall full of people, at risk?”
“A trap,” replied Angelchrist. “An opportunity to send a message to the Kaiser, to put an end to the schemes of his agents here in London, at least for a while. If we can draw out his agents, expose them, perhaps even capture and interrogate some of them—well, then it will be worth the risk.”
“Even if innocent people are harmed in the cross fire?” asked Veronica, feeling her im
patience swelling.
Angelchrist sighed. “We all have to make difficult decisions, Miss Hobbes. Surely you know that more than most.”
Veronica stiffened. What was he getting at? Did he know something about her, about the choices she had been forced to make?
“One thing I am sure of, however,” Angelchrist continued, “is that the Kaiser’s men are not responsible for the murders of the Queen’s agents. They’ve been single-minded as they’ve planned the execution of their mission. We were able to plant a double agent amongst their ranks, and he has given every indication that they are not even aware of the identity of the Queen’s agents, let alone harbouring any desire to murder them and abscond with their hearts. The Kaiser is not, contrary to the beliefs of some of the Court, spoiling for a war. He is simply working to raise his defences, should Her Majesty grow tired of his rebuttals and decide to put matters into the hands of the military. The theft of an experimental electric lamp would not be looked on kindly. The murder of the Queen’s prized agents would be quite another thing, tantamount to a declaration of war.”
“So you’ve lured us here under false pretences?” said Veronica, stiffly. “You’ve dragged us unwittingly into the middle of an operation.”
“Not at all,” said Angelchrist, his tone conciliatory. “Clarkson said you needed to understand what the Germans were planning.” He shrugged. “Since we couldn’t meet openly as once we might have, this seemed as good a way as any to demonstrate the veracity of my words. I wanted to demonstrate to both you and Sir Maurice the value of the Service, and to clear up any little misunderstandings regarding its motives.” He glanced from Newbury to Bainbridge. “And yes, I suppose I am guilty of wishing to have my friends by my side as we charge headlong into battle.”
Bainbridge nodded. He glanced at Veronica, and then back at Angelchrist. “You have my support, Archibald. And thank you. Although it damn well sets us back to the start. We’re no further towards discovering who’s responsible for these murders than when we found the first corpse.”
