The Black Crow Conspiracy

by Christopher Edge

  “Kannich ihnen helfen, madame?”

  Penelope turned at the sound of the voice, a moustachioed man in a smart tweed suit stepping out to greet her from an adjoining room. She stared back at him nonplussed, her mind scrabbling to translate his words.

  “Can I help you, madam?” the man repeated, his English impeccable.

  Penelope frowned in confusion.

  “I don’t know,” she replied truthfully, slowly shaking her head. “I’m not quite sure where I am.”

  A frown creased the man’s forehead, mirroring Penelope’s own. He gestured impatiently at the largest portrait hanging on the wall between them. There, the figure of a man dressed in a military uniform gazed down at them both with an arrogant stare. Penelope recognised him at once, his image instantly familiar from the newspaper pages: Kaiser Wilhelm the Second, King of Prussia and Emperor of Germany.

  “This is the Imperial German Embassy,” the man replied brusquely. “What exactly is your business here?”

  XIII

  “And what did you say then?” Alfie asked eagerly, resting his chin on his hands as he waited for Penelope to continue her story.

  Behind her desk at The Penny Dreadful, Penny brushed a stray lock of her hair from her eyes; the hair piled high upon her head was slowly descending under the heat of the day.

  “I told him I had been waiting for my uncle by the statue of the Duke of York, but that I had suddenly felt somewhat overcome by the sun. How I had wandered into the embassy in search of a place to recover myself. After he fetched me a reviving glass of water, I bid him good day and then made a hasty exit.”

  Alfie let out a low whistle, unable to hide his amazement at the story she had told him.

  “And you did all of this yesterday, while I was stuck at the printers pulping the July edition. The next time you go impersonating a distinguished scientist you’ll have to let me come along too.” Alfie screwed up his features to create a threatening countenance. “I quite fancy the chance of playing the part of Dr Jekyll.”

  Penelope smiled. “I think you are confusing Dr Jekyll with the character of Mr Hyde. Besides, these are purely fictional creations, unlike our Black Crow, it seems.” Reaching into her pocket she drew out the creased edition of the magazine she had found hidden in the greatcoat pocket. “It even appears that one of the radiant boys is an avid reader of The Penny Dreadful.”

  Alfie scratched his head, his expression of affected menace quickly fading to be replaced by a look of pure puzzlement.

  “I still don’t understand how you ended up in the Imperial German Embassy. Why take the trouble of hiding a secret passage inside a wardrobe when the two houses are just next door to each other?”

  Penny narrowed her eyes at Alfie speaking out loud the very same question that she had asked herself.

  “Because this is something that they wish to hide,” she replied. “The secret of the radiant boys. There is a connection between the embassy and the Society for the Advancement of Science, and I am sure Professor Röntgen is at the heart of it. He is of German extraction, after all.”

  Alfie scowled. The newspapers were filled every day with stories of German duplicity; how by strengthening his navy the Kaiser would soon threaten the might of the British Empire itself. The printer’s assistant had read The Battle of Dorking and other tales of invasion, these stories describing in lurid prose how the very shores of England would soon be overrun by German soldiers.

  “This is a dangerous business,” he said, his words echoing Penny’s guardian’s own. “We need to alert the authorities.”

  Penny slowly shook her head, trying to marshal the facts she had uncovered in her mind.

  “I’ve already tried that,” she replied bitterly. “Inspector Drake just accused me of wasting his time. He thinks that I invented the story about the figures we saw sneaking into the palace in order to get Monty off the hook. He won’t believe a word that I say.”

  “Well, we need to tell Mr Wigram at least. This is too large a mystery for you to solve alone.”

  Penelope frowned. Her guardian had not long returned from New Scotland Yard, his latest efforts to win Monty’s release for the moment unsuccessful. With the strain of the long nights and even longer days showing on his features, Wigram had quickly left for the printers in order to negotiate a further delay to their overdue payment. The government ban on the publication of the magazine was a continuing drain on The Penny Dreadful’s finances.

  “I don’t want to worry William with this, not yet. Besides, what can I really tell him? There are still more questions than answers.”

  For a moment the two of them sat there in silence, both trying to unravel the mystery. Penny’s mind returned to the lecture room at the Society, remembering how Professor Röntgen’s gaze had gleamed with a missionary zeal. These rays are a phenomenon of the ether, he had said. Soon we will be able to harness their power to transcend the physical laws that bind us…

  Rising to her feet, Penelope plucked her parasol from where it was hanging on the coat stand.

  “Where are you going?” Alfie asked, scrambling to his feet to follow her as Penny headed for the door.

  “To find out more about Professor Röntgen’s mysterious rays,” she replied, glancing back over her shoulder. “I think it is time for a science lesson.”

  “I am no longer your tutor, Miss Tredwell,” the man replied, peering intently at the contents of a bubbling test tube. “Your guardian, Mr Wigram, made that abundantly clear after that unfortunate incident when my demonstration of the combustible properties of calcium carbide ignited the curtains in your drawing room.”

  He bent over his scientific equipment again, using a pair of iron tongs to carefully place the test tube back in its ring stand, the Bunsen burner beneath emitting a hissing flame. His pale, pudgy face sweated with the act of concentration, peering intently through tinted spectacles to ensure the correct calibrations were made. He couldn’t be more than thirty at most, but with his rumpled tweed coat and prematurely thinning hair he seemed somehow much older. A fountain pen was sticking out of his top pocket, the black ink from its leaking nib staining the cloth.

  “But you were the finest tutor I ever had, Professor Walker,” Penelope replied, resorting to flattery to try and wheedle from him the information she required. “It was only thanks to your quick thinking that you prevented the whole house from going up in flames. I could not imagine a more powerful demonstration of the destructive power of science.”

  Professor Walker glanced up unimpressed, well used to Penelope’s wiles from the time he had acted as her personal tutor.

  “And that is why I have been offered an assistant professorship here at the Royal College of Science. Although with the meagre wage they pay me, I doubt I will end up paying off the cost of those curtains before the year is out.”

  Penelope’s face took on a sympathetic air.

  “I am sure I could convince my guardian to waive this trifling bill,” she reassured him. “Perhaps if you would indulge me with this enquiry, we could call this your final lesson and consider it payment in kind?”

  Professor Walker narrowed his eyes, a calculating expression appearing behind his tinted spectacles.

  “And perhaps some form of severance payment would be in order too?” he prompted. “To recompense me for the sudden nature of my dismissal.”

  “I am sure this can be arranged,” Penny replied, holding the scientist’s gaze.

  With a sigh, Professor Walker reached forward to turn the gas tap, the Bunsen burner’s flame dying away with a pallid glow.

  “We have an agreement then, Penelope. Now, what exactly is it that you wish to know?”

  With a glance towards Alfie, who was still peering at the bubbling test tube, Penelope tried to order her thoughts. There were so many questions she wanted to ask. How could a living man appear to walk through walls? What kind of chemical reaction could cause such a strange luminescence that a person’s skin would glow green? Could the
atoms that made up the solid matter of the universe be seemingly transformed into air? But Penelope knew that such esoteric enquiries would find short shrift with the practically minded professor. Instead, she asked the question at the forefront of her mind.

  “What do you know of Professor Röntgen and his X-rays?”

  The scientist raised an eyebrow, absent-mindedly batting Alfie’s hand away from the test tube as he commenced his explanation.

  “The X-ray is an invisible form of radiant energy discovered by Professor Röntgen in 1895. He was experimenting with the transmission of electrical currents through a vacuum tube in his laboratory at the University of Würzburg, when he noticed a strange luminescence suddenly appear on a nearby screen. Investigating this phenomenon, he discovered that no matter what impediment he placed between the tube and the screen, the same shimmering image could be seen. These invisible rays – X-rays as he named them – could penetrate solid matter. Paper, wood, even metal. Only lead seemed to act as a block to their penetrative power.”

  The scientist scratched at his whiskers, bemused by his former pupil’s pensive reaction.

  “May I ask what the source of your interest in the X-ray is, Miss Tredwell? I was always under the impression that your preoccupations lay more with the arts than the sciences.”

  “I believe the worlds of science and fiction may be more closely related than previously suspected,” she replied, absent-mindedly picking at a thread on her jacket as she mused on what she’d been told. “Have you not read the writings of H. G. Wells?”

  “Bunkum and balderdash,” the scientist replied with a snort. “I read his tale of The Invisible Man when it was serialised in Pearson’s Weekly. The notion that a serious scientist would waste his time trying to render a man invisible was too risible for words.”

  Beneath her dark eyebrows, Penelope’s gaze suddenly gleamed as inspiration struck. Professor Walker might find such a notion ridiculous, but what if a scientist of Professor Röntgen’s calibre believed that there was a way to transcend the laws of nature? What lengths would he go to in the pursuit of his experiments?

  “And what exactly is Professor Röntgen working on now?” she asked. “You said that he discovered the existence of X-rays in 1895. That was seven years ago. Surely he has made further discoveries since then.”

  Professor Walker shook his head.

  “Röntgen’s researches are a mystery,” the scientist replied, carefully removing his spectacles and wiping them on his handkerchief. “He has not published a paper for nearly five years. At first he was recruited by the Kaiser to lead his scientific institute in Berlin, but then this year I heard that he had taken the chairmanship of the Society for the Advancement of Science right here in London. There have been rumours, of course, about his research. Some say that he is searching for more invisible rays as yet undiscovered by man. I very much doubt he will have much success.”

  With a dull pop, the contents of the test tube on the desk between them suddenly turned to a crimson shade. Professor Walker placed his spectacles back on to his nose.

  “Now, if that answers your question, Penelope,” he said, glancing down at his apparatus, “I must return to my experiments here at the Royal College. I look forward to receiving the letter from your guardian with my final salary payment.”

  “Thank you, professor,” Penny replied as the scientist lit the Bunsen burner again. “It has been most illuminating.”

  XIV

  “But I still don’t understand how what Professor Walker told us can possibly help to free Monty.”

  Alfie shook his head, a perplexed expression lining his features as they turned left off the Strand, heading up Bedford Street back to The Penny Dreadful’s office. The late afternoon sun was already three-quarters of the way across the sky, weary office boys unbuttoning their cuffs as they left work to search for the nearest hostelry. Penelope squinted into the sunlight. At a newsstand on the corner, unnoticed by them both, a billboard proclaimed The Evening Standard’s headline:

  CORONATION POSTPONED

  “It proves there’s a connection,” Penny replied. “You heard what Professor Walker said. Röntgen was recruited by Kaiser Wilhelm to lead his scientific institute in Berlin. It was only this year that he made his way to London to join the Society for the Advancement for Science. Now all we have to do is find out how his experiments have created these radiant boys. Once we’ve proved that they were the ones responsible for the theft of the Crown Jewels, then Inspector Drake will have no choice but to release Monty.”

  The two of them were nearing the broad stone steps that led up to the offices of The Penny Dreadful.

  “And how are we supposed to do that?” Alfie asked as they started to climb the steps. “If Professor Röntgen really is some mad scientist who has trained an army of ghostly thieves to do his bidding, then he’s hardly going to let you waltz into the Society again to catch him mid-experiment.”

  Unable to answer, Penny reached for her keys.

  “I don’t know yet,” she said, a cloud passing over her brow. Reaching for the door handle, she noticed that it was already unlocked; her guardian must have returned from the printers in their absence. Maybe Alfie was right, perhaps it was time to confide in William at last. Opening the door, her eyes widened in surprise at the sight that awaited her.

  Seated behind her desk, his broad shoulders slouching forward as he rested his head in his hands, was Monty. The beginnings of the beard that Penelope had seen when she had visited him in his cell had now bloomed into full flower, dark shadows framing his features as he stared back at Penelope.

  “Monty!” she cried, her face flushed with relief. “They’ve released you at last!”

  But Monty’s face remained grave as from the shadows on either side of the door two police constables appeared. Penny recognised them immediately as the same men who had dragged Monty from this office only days before. Her eyes darted around the room searching for the man who must have brought them here again. Inspector Drake stepped forward from the rear of the office, the expression on his face impenetrable.

  “Have you released my uncle?” she said, addressing the question now to Inspector Drake.

  The detective gave no reply. Instead he gestured through the open door to a waiting hansom cab parked on the street outside.

  “You have kept us waiting for quite long enough, Miss Tredwell,” he said. “My superiors have some urgent questions they wish to ask of you and your uncle. You must both accompany me at once.”

  As Alfie looked on anxiously, the burlier of the two police constables placed his hand on Penny’s arm. His manner was respectful, but the meaning was clear. She had no choice in the matter. An avalanche of questions tumbled through her mind. Had Monty revealed the truth about his role at The Penny Dreadful? What further crimes had the Black Crow committed whilst she had been following his trail? And where on earth was her guardian when she needed him now?

  “Am I under arrest?” Penelope asked, her gaze sparkling with defiance.

  “No,” Drake replied. “Not yet.”

  As Penny was escorted down the stone steps, she glanced back to see Monty, Inspector Drake and the second police constable keeping a tight grip on his arms as they shuffled down the steps. Beneath his new beard, the actor’s face was pale, but meeting Penelope’s gaze he managed to raise a weak smile.

  “What about me?” Alfie asked, standing framed in the doorway.

  “Consider yourself under house arrest,” Drake snapped, not even bothering to glance back over his shoulder. “Stay here and if anyone calls at The Penny Dreadful for Montgomery Flinch, you take their details and tell them he is otherwise indisposed. I will return to question you anon.”

  As the burly constable held open the cab door, Penelope climbed inside. She glanced back to meet Alfie’s gaze, recognising her own anxiety reflected in his eyes. Then Monty and the detective climbed up into the cab behind her, Drake drawing up the steps to leave his two constables standing on t
he pavement. With a rap of his knuckles against the roof of the cab, he signalled for the cab driver to depart. The cabbie twitched his reins to set his horses off at a trot, drawing the cab round in a sweeping manoeuvre as it headed back towards the Strand.

  Alfie watched it depart with a sinking feeling. What would he tell Mr Wigram now?

  “Where are we going?” Penelope whispered, sliding in her seat as the cab clattered round yet another corner.

  “I don’t know,” Monty hissed, his bulky frame pressed against hers. “I’m just glad to be out of that blasted place.”

  The grand buildings of Whitehall flashed by the window: Admiralty House, Horse Guards, the Board of Trade; the great offices of state and government. It was clear to Penelope from the route they were taking that they weren’t heading to New Scotland Yard. She glanced across at Inspector Drake, the surly detective leaning forward in his seat to fix them both with a belligerent glare.

  “If I had my way, I would have left you to rot in that cell until you told me the truth, Flinch,” Drake snapped, drumming his fingers to match the rhythm of the horses’ hooves. “You’re hiding something, that’s for sure. However, events are moving too fast for me to wait for you to crack. It seems as though your niece’s preposterous story might warrant further investigation after all.” He turned towards Penelope. “And if I find out that you’ve been lying to me, girl, I’ll put you into a cell right next to your uncle and let your age be damned.”

  Penelope didn’t quail under the fierceness of his gaze, determined not to show any sign of weakness. If she was to have a chance of solving this mystery, she had to convince Inspector Drake and his superiors that what she had said was true.

  “So where are you taking us then?” she asked.

  Drake just grunted in reply as the cab swung right off Whitehall. Pulling at his reins, the driver slowed his horses to a trot, bringing the hansom cab to a halt outside a smart row of terraced houses. Turning in her seat, Penny looked through the window, her heart skipping a beat as she saw their destination.