The Other Log of Phileas Fogg

by Philip José Farmer

  As all the world knows, the story of the bet spread from the Reform Club to the newspapers. Except for The Daily Telegraph, the English papers declared Fogg’s project to be mad. Nevertheless, there were plenty of people who believed in him enough to put their money down on him, and greater faith has no man. The depth of this sincerity may be judged by the fact that “Phileas Fogg bonds” were issued on the Exchange. Verne goes into great detail about how Fogg’s stock rose and fell, so there is no need to repeat it here.

  However, for those who have forgotten or who may have somehow missed Verne’s book, a week after Fogg had left, his stock dropped to zero.

  Mr. Rowan, the commissioner of police, Scotland Yard, received a telegram from a Mr. Fix, a detective for the Peninsular and Oriental Company, a shipping and passenger-line..

  I’VE FOUND THE BANK ROBBER, PHILEAS FOGG. SEND WITHOUT DELAY WARRANT OF ARREST TO BOMBAY.

  The unbelieving commissioner procured a photograph of Fogg from the Reform Club. He compared it with the description of the man who had stolen fifty-five thousand pounds from the Bank of England. The resemblances were too close to be coincidental unless Fogg had a twin. The unknown origin and background of Fogg, his nongregarious lifestyle, and his rocket-like and totally unexpected departure from England reinforced the suspicions of the police. Fogg was the one.

  Fogg’s train had taken the two from Charing Cross station to Dover. On the way, Passepartout suddenly recalled that he had left the gas jet in his room burning. Mr. Fogg coldly replied that it must burn—at Passepartout’s expense.

  From Dover the two took a boat to Calais, and a train from there through France and Italy. At Brindisi, still on schedule, they boarded the P & O ship, the Mongolia. This luxurious liner, fed by coal, driven by steam, docked in Suez, at 11 a.m., Wednesday, the ninth of October, exactly on time. According to Fogg’s notebook, the journey thus far had taken 158½ hours or six and a half days. For this period, the other log of Fogg contained only a few phrases, with some enigmatic references.

  Stayed in the cabin. P—brought in the meals. Gave P—a description of N—, and P—is looking for him on the ship. Told P—that the color of N—’s eyes may be different. When I served under him, they were black. But they were covered by contact lenses. N—must have an ocular deficiency or he was wearing them to disguise the real color of his eyes. Latter seems improbable. Why would he need a disguise while aboard the N—? But he can’t conceal the extraordinarily wide spacing between his eyes unless he pretends to be injured in one eye and wears a bandage. Or, more likely, a large patch over one eye. Told P—to look for these.

  Should have killed N—while aboard the N—and taken the consequences. But a thousand years are not easily thrown away. Not conscience but longevity doth make cowards of us all.

  At Suez, the man who had sent the telegram to Scotland Yard was waiting on the dock. Mr. Fix was short and thin and had sharp intelligent-looking features, bright foxy eyes, and eyebrows incessantly rising and falling as if subject to shock waves. He was a detective who had been sent to Suez, to apprehend the Bank of England robber if he should be trying to escape via the Eastern route. Mr. Fix had been provided with a good description of the wanted man, but he did not need it. He had known beforehand that the thief and Mr. Fogg looked like twin brothers. He was cursing softly now because his superiors (Capellean, not police) had not permitted him to “find” and arrest Fogg the day after the theft. But no, they wanted to make it appear that Fix had “happened” to come across Fogg during his walk from his house to the Reform.

  All must appear natural and unforced. The arrest could take place three or four days after the theft; there was no hurry. First, Mr. Fix must find an excuse for being in Fogg’s neighborhood. Then he would “accidentally” see Fogg, note the resemblance to the thief, and take him into custody. There was little chance of keeping him in jail long or of bringing him to trial. This seems to have been overlooked by Verne, though he was only one of many millions who did not consider carefully the weakness of the case against Fogg. Aside from the startling physical similarity of Fogg and the criminal, there were no grounds for charges. Mr. Fogg would have had his valet’s testimony that he had been in the house until 11:30 a.m. the morning of the theft. At least two dozen people could testify that he had entered the Reform Club at the regular time and stayed there long after the theft had occurred.

  The mystery about the case is why the police or the public paid any attention to Fix’s identification of the robber as Fogg. Any policeman on the beat could have established in a short time that Fogg could not possibly have been the culprit. The only explanation for this mistake is that the robbery occurred in the morning and that Forster, the valet, could not be found to testify that his master had indeed been home that morning. Forster must have been sent out of the country on a mission from which Stuart could not recall him even to save Fogg’s reputation.

  However, why did Fix go to Suez before he knew that Fogg would be leaving England and travelling on the Mongolia? The answer is that, though the Capelleans often manipulated people and events, they could not always manage things to suit themselves. Fix, though a Capellean, was also an employee of the police department. When ordered by the police chief to go to Suez, he had to go. He could have played sick and so stayed in the country. But his Capellean superiors must have decided that Fogg might be apprehended by a non-Capellean policeman.

  And so Fix took train and steamer to the Red Sea port. Meanwhile, his superiors prepared to tip off the police through an anonymous note. Fogg would be brought in for questioning. If the Capelleans could abduct Forster, Fogg would have no witness to verify that he had been home and not at the Bank of England. As it turned out, the Capelleans had taken too much time to carry out the plot. Forster had disappeared, which was fine for their plans, except that they had hoped to get their hands on him and extract all the information he contained. But Fogg himself had left England.

  We may imagine what the Capelleans did, since we are as logical as the Capelleans. This unexpected defeat of their plans might be fortunate. If Fogg were arrested by Fix, Fix would not have to turn him over to the authorities. On the journey back to England, an “escape” by Fogg would be arranged. Fogg would disappear, apparently into hiding. But he would be hidden in some Capellean secret chamber. There the same methods planned for Forster would be applied to Fogg. The original idea had been that Fogg would be held in jail for a day or two before an investigation determined that he must be innocent. But he would be “rescued.” He would suppose that those who effected his escape would be Eridaneans. He would discover his error when it was too late for him.

  And so Fix received a message that he should intercept Fogg at Suez. Fix was happy about this. He went at once to the British consul and informed him that a passenger who remarkably resembled the thief would soon step off the Mongolia. After hurrying back to the dock, he scanned every face of the disembarkers. The man he was looking for did not get off. Fogg, as we know, was discreetly staying in his cabin.

  As chance would have it—or was it chance?—a passenger asked him how to get to the consulate. He was a short stocky fellow with thick wild hair, bright blue eyes, and a slight French accent. He showed Fix the passport he was carrying. On reading the description thereon, Fix was startled. It was of the man for whom he was looking. The Frenchman, Passepartout, was taking his master’s passport to be stamped by the consul. This was not necessary, since this was British territory. Fogg, however, wished to validate the times and places of his journey so that the bettors of the Reform Club would have no doubt that he was not cheating. This was also unnecessary, since his word was good enough for his friends at the Reform.

  He also, we may be sure, wanted the Capelleans to know where he was. Only thus could he make sure that the hunters would not lose his track.

  Why, of all the people standing on the wharf, did Passepartout pick Fix to ask the way to the consulate? Was this not more than a coincidence? On the other hand, how wou
ld Passepartout have known that Fix was a Capellean? They did not carry placards proclaiming their identity.

  Passepartout, however, had had much experience with the police. Just as Fix had bragged to the consul that he could smell a crook, so Passepartout could smell a cop. The Capelleans, like their enemies the Eridaneans, had many of their people in the police departments. They could be very effective there. Being lawmen, they could often act outside the law with impunity if they were discreet. So Passepartout may have calculated that a policeman might also be a Capellean.

  It is more likely that Passepartout recognized Fix as a detective and thought that a policeman could give the proper directions. In any event, Fix directed him to the building, which was only two hundred steps away on the corner of the square. Since the British flag would have been flying over it, and there would have been signs indicating its function, it is strange that Passepartout did not see it. So, after all, he may have just been testing out the nervous little Capellean.

  Fix informed the valet that, if the passport was to be stamped, its owner must appear in person with it. Passepartout returned to the ship. Fix at once hastened to the consul. He told him that he believed that the thief was on the Mongolia. The consul must detain Fogg when he came to have his passport visaed. Fix needed time to get a warrant for his arrest from London via telegram.

  This the consul refused to do. Unless a warrant was on hand, the consul must permit Fogg to go on his way.

  The master and servant shortly thereafter appeared, and Fix helplessly observed the stamping of the passport. He decided to follow the two. Fogg had returned to the cabin to eat his breakfast there, but Passepartout was around the wharf. He readily answered Fix’s questions. He told him that since they had left in such a hurry, he must buy some shoes and shirts while in Suez. Fix offered to take him to a shop. Passepartout accepted with thanks. On the way, the Frenchman consulted his watch to make sure he had enough time to shop and then get back to the steamer.

  “You have plenty of time,” Fix said. “It is only twelve o’clock.”

  Passepartout was astounded. His watch indicated only eight minutes to ten.

  “Your watch is slow,” Fix said.

  Passepartout exclaimed with disbelief. His watch, he said, did not vary five minutes in a year. It was an heirloom, it had originally belonged to his great-grandfather. And it was true that he was proud of the chronometer as a perfect timepiece. But he also dangled it before Fix to get a reaction which had nothing to do with watches per se. It was necessary to know if the Capellean, if he were one, suspected that a distorter was concealed therein. Fix, however, seemed interested only in Passepartout’s lack of knowledge about time zones. He informed him that his watch was still keeping London time. This was two hours behind Suez time. He should regulate his watch at high noon whenever he passed into a different zone.

  Passepartout acted as if this suggestion bordered on sacrilege.

  “I regulate my watch? Never!”

  Fix patiently, if in a nervous manner, said, “Then it won’t agree with the sun.”

  Passepartout’s reply was typically Gallic.

  “So much the worse for the sun. The sun will be wrong!”

  Fix was silenced for a few moments by this vehemence and disregard for natural laws. When he recovered, he said, “You left London suddenly?”

  “I believe so! Last Friday at eight o’clock in the evening, Mr. Fogg came home from his club. Three-quarters of an hour later, we were off!”

  “But where is your master going?”

  “Always straight ahead. He’s going around the world!”

  Fix was startled by this. Or, at least, he seemed to be. Perhaps his superiors had not notified him as yet of the wager.

  “Around the world?”

  Passepartout then told Fix that the trip must take no more than eighty days. As for him, he did not believe the reason given for this unexpected departure from the “snail’s shell.” There must be another reason for this madness.

  This may have convinced Fix that the Frenchman was only an innocent fellow-traveler. If so, he could learn much by being friendly with this fellow.

  Whatever Passepartout’s role, he was certainly telling the truth about Fogg’s intention of going eastward.

  “Bombay, is it far from here?” Passepartout said.

  “Rather far. It’s ten days by sea.”

  “And in what country is Bombay?”

  “India.”

  “In Asia?”

  This ignorance may be excused in a peasant or an illiterate worker in the factory. But would a man whose name means “Goes Everywhere,” and who has been everywhere, be so lacking in such elementary geographical knowledge? Hardly. Passepartout was merely continuing to act the role allotted to him. To reinforce this image, he told Fix of the gaslight he had forgotten to turn off. His master was charging him for this, justly, it must be admitted, which meant that he was losing six-pence a day more than he earned.

  Fix did not care about the man’s troubles. After saying good-bye to the valet, he sent off a telegram for a warrant of arrest. He then packed a small bag and boarded the Mongolia a few minutes before it left the dock. He also, we may be sure, sent a coded telegram to his superiors in London. He would receive their reply in the telegraph office in Bombay.

  8

  The Mongolia was scheduled to traverse one thousand three hundred and ten miles in one hundred and thirty-eight hours. Fogg ate his four meals a day, breakfast, lunch, dinner, and supper. During this leg of the trip, he did not stroll on the decks, but he did not entirely confine himself to his cabin. If he had one passion, aside from a desire for regularity, it was for whist. This game, the precursor of bridge, was then the rage of England. He found three equally intense lovers of the cards and spent most of his time with them at the table. These were a tax collector on his way to Goa, a priest, and a brigadier-general in Her Majesty’s service at Benares. All were not only excellent players but untalkative, which pleased Fogg. He may have joined them originally to determine if one of them had any message for him from Stuart. But no, all were what they appeared to be, and whist was the only thing in which they were interested.

  Passepartout had informed Fogg that Fix was aboard. Fix, he said, claimed to be an agent for the P & O and was going to Bombay on business. This could be true. But what was his business? Assassinating the two, arranging for their abduction, or what? Neither were aware yet that Fogg was wanted by the law. Fogg was still puzzling over the clipping given him by the beggar woman. He would have to find some means to clarify this, but at the moment he did not know how. He could have sent a message to Stuart at Suez or Aden, where the ship also stopped en route to Bombay. It was certain, however, that Fix would find out to whom Fogg had cabled, and this would not be allowed to happen.

  Fogg had a quiet talk with his valet. He quoted the newspaper article from memory. Passepartout suddenly perceived the likeness between Mr. Fogg and the description of the thief. Why Fogg, for whom the unforeseen did not exist, had not seen this before is inexplicable. The only answer is that it was unthinkable to him that anybody could associate him with anything dishonest. Though he was an Eridanean, he was also an English gentleman. Yet it was he who had pointed out to his Reform Club whist partners that the robber was no robber but a gentleman.

  “What a coincidence!” Passepartout said. “Who would have thought of such a thing occurring? And especially at this time?”

  Fogg was suddenly cured of his blindness. Now that he could perceive the facts un-shrouded by his egotism, he saw exactly what had happened. But Passepartout still thought that it was only an unlucky chance.

  “No,” Fogg said, “far from it. This has been brought about by you-know-whom. One of them was made up to look like me and sent out to steal the money. If we had not left so abruptly, I would now be in jail. Stuart saw what was going on, though I cannot understand why he did not warn me sooner.”

  “Perhaps he only began to think about it after th
e subject was brought up at the Reform,” Passepartout said. “He had no time to get a message to us at our house. In any event, it would have aroused the curiosity of you-know-whom if a message had been delivered to you. So he chose the beggar woman, who may or may not be one of us. But then why did he himself not deliver the clipping when he said good-bye to us at the station?”

  “Because Flanagan, Fallentin, and Ralph were also there. They seem to be innocents, that is, not you-know-whom, but he did not want to take a chance.”

  “But what could a mere clipping tell you?”

  “He knew that I would soon see the connection. I should have known it immediately. But my pride prevented it. And though the description does fit me, in general that is, it is vague in particulars.”

  “What will we do?”

  “Proceed as planned,” Mr. Fogg calmly replied.

  “But if you are arrested at Bombay?”

  “All taken care of.”

  Passepartout did not ask him what his plans were. He would only have received a cold stare and rightly so. If he were to fall into the hands of the enemy, the less he knew the better. Nevertheless, Fogg did tell Passepartout to encourage the drinking in the bar with Fix. Passepartout, who had a strong head for strong liquor, considering he was a Frenchman, was to pretend to have his tongue loosened by the pale ale and whiskey with which Fix was daily plying him. He was to tell Fix nothing except what he would have known if master and valet were exactly what they pretended to be.

  Passepartout reported that Fix was continuing the hints he’d made during their first supposedly chance meeting on the Mongolia. These were that Fogg’s trip was a blind for some other mission, possibly diplomatic. Fix also kept urging the Frenchman to adjust his watch to the sun. Fogg told Passepartout to shadow Fix to determine if he was communicating with anybody.

  At thirty minutes after four in the afternoon, the two world travelers stepped onto the soil of Bombay. Verne says that Fogg gave his servant some errands to do after telling him he must be at the railroad station at eight that evening. And then, with his clockwork gait, he proceeded to the passport office. He exhibited no curiosity whatever about the architectural wonders of this jewel of India. This was to be expected from his character. But it probably was also due to the fact that he had seen them before and more than once. Verne reports a strange incident in the restaurant of the railroad station. Fogg ordered a giblet of “native rabbit” which the proprietor highly recommended. Tasting it, he rang for the owner. Staring coldly, he said, “Is this rabbit, sir?”