The Midnight Peacock

by Katherine Woodfine

  When Lil turned back to them, her face was as white as Joe’s. ‘I’ll say I recognise him,’ she said, her voice wobbling with astonishment. ‘Good heavens – what on earth is he doing here?’

  Tilly stared open-mouthed at the grand edifice of Sinclair’s, as she followed Miss Leo up the steps. She knew all about Sinclair’s, of course – everyone knew about London’s famous department store. In the kitchens of Winter Hall they’d pored over the wonderful photographs of it in the illustrated papers. But now she was really here, amongst all the noise of Piccadilly, the honking of motor horns and the roar of omnibuses, and the great building loomed over her like a temple. She had not realised that any shop could be like this.

  A tall man in a smart blue-and-gold uniform swept the doors open with a low bow, as if she were as grand as the Countess of Alconborough herself. Inside, she took in a deep breath of air perfumed with chocolate and spice and a dozen more delicious scents she couldn’t even name. They were standing in a huge marble hall, with a magnificent fountain in the centre of it. A fountain – inside a shop! Ma would never believe it.

  Miss Leo was already hurrying onwards, through the crowds of richly dressed people carrying gorgeously wrapped boxes. Outside the elevator doors, the lift operative, asked: ‘Which floor, madam?’

  ‘First floor please,’ replied Miss Leo, and they stepped inside. Tilly had never travelled by elevator before, and as it swished upwards, she could hardly decide what to look at first: the cables and weights that made it work, the shiny brass fittings, or the glamorous lift operative in her blue-and-gold uniform and her matching blue boots. Tilly lost her heart to those boots almost at once. But there was no time to look around any longer, for the doors were already opening again, and they stepped out of the lift on to the busy shop floor.

  ‘I suppose all these people are here because of the ball tonight?’ she managed to ask, as she hurried after Miss Leo.

  ‘Oh no – Sinclair’s is always like this,’ Miss Leo explained. ‘Look – here we are. This is Sophie and Lil’s office.’

  She tapped on the door with Taylor & Rose printed across it in gold lettering, and then went inside. In the office that lay beyond, Tilly saw that Sophie and Lil were standing around a desk with two boys and – rather to her surprise – two dogs, one a large Alsatian, and the other a small black pug with bulbous eyes, who came running over to snuffle around them at once. Miss Leo bent down to stroke the dog’s silky little head. ‘Hullo, all,’ she announced. ‘We’re here!’

  But not one of them was listening – or even looking in their direction.

  ‘I must say, I’ve sometimes wondered about all these beastly files and notes you insist on, Billy,’ Lil was saying, her hands on her hips. ‘But for the first time I see the point. It’s definitely him – there can be no doubt about it. The man who helped the Baron try to blow up Sinclair’s before, when the clockwork sparrow was stolen. The one who locked us up in that summerhouse in the roof garden!’

  Sophie was staring at a photograph lying on the desk. ‘Mr Raymond Fitzwilliam,’ she said aloud. ‘Former actor. Worked for the Baron – and actually posed as the Baron himself on more than one occasion. Not to mention the fact that he almost had us all killed.’

  ‘Er – ought we to come back later?’ asked Miss Leo tentatively.

  Sophie looked up from the photograph, and then beckoned them in. ‘No – no. Come in and shut the door. I believe we may have figured out what’s going to happen at the ball tonight – and I rather think we’re going to need your help.’

  The six of them sat in a serious circle in the Taylor & Rose office. Tilly had never attended a meeting in a detective agency before, and she kept staring around, trying to take it all in.

  Billy had his notebook before him and a pencil in his hand, and he was scribbling notes vigorously. The folder marked ‘The Baron’ lay in front of Sophie, open to a photograph of Lil, posing in a tea-gown – and behind her, amongst the grandeur of the Marble Court Restaurant, the figure of a tall, powerfully built man, whose dark hair was streaked with white. He was expensively dressed, with a silver-topped cane, heavy rings on his fingers and a scarf at his neck.

  ‘You’re quite certain that this is the man you saw?’ Sophie asked, tapping the picture.

  Billy, Joe and Lil all nodded. ‘He’s dressed differently now – but it’s the same man all right,’ said Lil.

  ‘He says he works for Lindwurm Enterprises – a company that specialises in fireworks,’ explained Billy. ‘He’s here setting up the fireworks for the display tonight. But we know those crates don’t really have fireworks in them. They’re explosives. He works for the Baron – and they’re planning to use the fireworks as cover for the bombs.’

  ‘So when the fireworks go off at midnight there won’t be any wonderful spectacle,’ said Sophie. ‘Instead there’ll be fires and explosions all around Piccadilly Circus. That’s what the Baron meant when he talked about chaos on the streets – and setting London alight.’

  ‘But hundreds of people will be there to see the fireworks!’ exclaimed Leo. ‘They could be terribly hurt – or killed!’

  Sophie rubbed her face with her hands. ‘We have to try and find a way to stop it,’ she said desperately. ‘We have to –’

  But her sentence was left unfinished. Just then the door banged open again and Jack came striding in, his sketchbook clutched in his hand.

  ‘Oh good – everyone’s here,’ he said, untangling himself from his scarf. ‘Look – I need to talk to you all. I’ve been sitting in the studio puzzling over that drawing that Lil and I found in that secret room at Winter Hall, and I rather think I’ve worked something out.’

  ‘Never mind that now!’ said Lil impatiently. ‘We’ve got something much more critical to think about than fussing with drawings.’

  But Sophie was already looking with interest at the sketchbook Jack was holding. She had forgotten all about the diagram that Jack had copied from the secret room. ‘What is it?’ she asked, with a sudden feeling of excitement.

  Jack set the drawing down on the desk in front of them. ‘I couldn’t work out what it was supposed to be at first but I’ve been looking at it, and I rather think it’s Piccadilly Circus.’ He pointed with a pencil to the central circle.

  ‘Look – that’s Piccadilly Circus itself – with the fountain in the middle. And these are the roads – Regent Street, Shaftesbury Avenue and Piccadilly.’

  ‘And that square with the S on it – that must be Sinclair’s!’ exclaimed Sophie.

  Billy was so excited that he could hardly get his words out. ‘Look – look – and that’s the dragon symbol! It marks the building across the street. That’s the office of Lindwurm Enterprises, where they’re keeping the explosives that the Fraternitas Draconum have been making!’

  ‘Lindwurm?’ repeated Jack in surprise.

  ‘Yes – that’s the name they’re using as a cover.’

  Jack stared at him. ‘Well it’s not much of a cover, is it – if it’s something to do with the Fraternitas Draconum?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Lil.

  ‘Well – Lindwurm is German for dragon. They’re really Dragon Enterprises.’

  They all gasped and then Lil snapped her fingers. ‘Wait – that boy who came up here with the note earlier. Didn’t he say something about Lindwurm Enterprises too?’

  Billy had almost forgotten the piece of paper that Lil had given him. Now he quickly unfolded it and read it aloud:

  ‘Lee Enfield?’ repeated Leo, confused. ‘Who’s that?’

  But Billy had read too many Montgomery Baxter stories not to know exactly what the words meant. ‘Guns,’ he hissed in a low voice. ‘Lee-Enfield is a type of gun!’

  The office was suddenly filled with a clamour of noise, but Sophie silenced everyone quickly. ‘Listen!’ she said. ‘We’ve got to work this out – and quickly. Maybe the diagram will help us stop the Baron’s plot.’

  They turned back to Jack’s sketchbook, fi
lled with a new energy. ‘The thing I can’t puzzle out is what all these lines signify,’ said Jack, pointing with his pencil. ‘Or this box here, marked CONTROLS.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Joe, thinking fast. He turned to Billy. ‘What did old George say to us about the fireworks? Didn’t he say they were connected up somehow with wires to a sort of box – with a clockwork mechanism that would set them off at midnight?’

  ‘So perhaps CONTROLS is the box?’ said Billy.

  ‘And those lines – they could be the wires that connect them?’ suggested Sophie.

  ‘But how could a box and some wires set off fireworks – or explosives for that matter?’ asked Lil, puzzled. ‘Wouldn’t they need a flame to ignite them?’

  Sophie was frowning. ‘Could it be something rather like the mechanism that the Baron used for the bomb in the clock at Sinclair’s?’

  Tilly had been struggling to follow everything that was happening, but this she understood. ‘It could work with an electric charge,’ she said. The others turned to stare at her, and she found her cheeks getting hot as she explained: ‘If the control box has a clock in it, it could switch on an electric current when the clock hits midnight. The current would run down wires connected to the box and heat up a contact at the end of each wire. That would light the fuses on the fireworks, and then they would go off. I’ve never seen it done, but I suppose setting it up like that would mean you could create a display where each group of fireworks were set to go off at exactly the right moment.’

  ‘Gosh – how awfully clever!’ exclaimed Lil.

  Joe was frowning. ‘So do you mean to say that to stop them going off – all we’d have to do is cut through or disconnect the wires?’

  Tilly nodded. ‘I think so.’

  ‘But where are these wires?’ asked Billy. ‘We haven’t seen any electric cables being laid out in the street.’

  ‘But the fireworks aren’t in the street, are they? They’re positioned up on the roofs of the buildings. So maybe the cables are strung up high on the roofs too – all connecting back to the central control box,’ said Joe.

  ‘What’s that building where the controls are marked?’ asked Lil, turning the plan upside down and then the right way up again, as she tried to make sense of it. ‘Oh, I know – isn’t that the Piccadilly Restaurant?’

  ‘And I suppose all these crosses must indicate where the fireworks are to be set,’ said Sophie.

  ‘But – they’re all around Piccadilly,’ said Leo. ‘If these really are explosives – and they go off . . .’ Her voice trailed away in horror.

  ‘I say, Billy, I’m beginning to think you were right all along,’ said Lil, shaking her head vigorously. ‘Surely Mr Sinclair couldn’t do a thing like this. Not harming all those people – not to mention destroying his own store. Look – there’s an X on the roof of Sinclair’s too.’

  ‘But look,’ said Jack again. ‘The mark on the roof of Sinclair’s is different. It’s a small black x – only a few buildings have that mark – most of them have a big red one. Then there’s this key at the side. The small black crosses mean F and the big red ones stand for E. What do you suppose it means?’

  Billy’s face was grim. ‘E is for explosive. F is for firework? The big red cross means explosives. The small one could be ordinary fireworks.’

  ‘But if the Baron really wants to create all this chaos – why wouldn’t all of the buildings have explosives? Why would any of them be just ordinary fireworks?’ wondered Lil aloud.

  ‘Perhaps including some real fireworks helps to conceal what they’re really up to?’ suggested Sophie. ‘And of course, it would also mean that those buildings wouldn’t be seriously harmed. Including Sinclair’s itself . . .’

  Silence fell for a moment as they all took this in – then Lil spoke again: ‘Well – it doesn’t matter. Whoever is behind this, we have to stop it. If those electric cables are strung up on the rooftops above Piccadilly Circus, how are we going to get up there to cut them?’

  ‘Surely the easiest thing would be simply to get to the control box itself,’ said Sophie. She turned to Tilly. ‘If we could find it, do you think you’d know how to disconnect it?’

  Tilly frowned. ‘I . . . I don’t know. Maybe – I’ve never done anything like that before . . . but . . .’ She thought of the books she had read, and Miss Jones saying she was one of the brightest pupils she’d had the pleasure of teaching, and Alf saying he’d never known anyone get her head round the workings of an engine like Tilly, and how she had been the one to fix Mrs Dawes’ broken carriage clock, when no one else could. Her voice was stronger as she answered: ‘But I can try! I suppose the best thing would be to stop the timer. If we can stop that, the explosion wouldn’t happen.’

  ‘Very well – so the first thing to do is find this control box,’ said Lil promptly. ‘We’ll have to trail Fitzwilliam and find out where he puts it. But we’d better not let ourselves be seen. If we recognise him then he might well recognise us. Then, after dark, we can creep back – and Tilly can disconnect it.’

  ‘Hang on – I’ve thought of something,’ said Joe. ‘Look, if the Baron really has got Mr Sinclair and Sergeant Thomas – not to mention Fitzwilliam – in on his plot, then it’s not going to be enough just to stop the explosions, is it? What about the King? Even if the Baron’s got these explosives rigged up all around Piccadilly Circus, he can’t be counting on those for the assassination. They’re too hit and miss. Besides, the King isn’t going to be out there in the crowd, he’s going to be –’

  ‘Here,’ finished Lil. ‘Here – at Sinclair’s.’

  ‘Oh gosh,’ said Leo, her eyes widening. ‘Do you suppose that’s what the guns are for?’

  Sophie took in a deep breath. She looked at Joe and Billy. ‘Look – you two should help Tilly find and deactivate this control box. Leave the rest of us to worry about protecting the King.’

  ‘But how are you going to do that?’ asked Billy anxiously. ‘What if the Baron turns up at Sinclair’s – with a gun?’

  Lil shook her head. ‘He won’t do that. We know he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty. Besides, people know what he looks like now. He’d be certain to be recognised at once. No – I think he’ll have someone else to do the job for him undercover – maybe someone like Fitzwilliam.’

  ‘That fits with what I overheard him saying,’ exclaimed Sophie. ‘Something about getting the King into position so they would have him in their sights. I didn’t know what he meant then – but sights means a gun, doesn’t it?’

  ‘So the Baron is planning to blow up Piccadilly Circus – while a gunman goes after the King at Sinclair’s?’ Jack said. He gave a stunned laugh of amazement.

  Sophie stared up at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘And we’ve got less than twelve hours to stop it.’

  Billy looked desperately at her. ‘But – but how can we? We’ve hardly any time, we don’t know who we can trust, we don’t really know what the Baron’s plan is. I know we’ve done some dangerous things before – but we’re talking about guns and bombs. Surely we ought to just – I don’t know – try again to reach Inspector Worth – or send a telegram to Mr McDermott?’

  Sophie shook her head. ‘It’s too late now. I can’t reach Worth, and I’ve sent McDermott a telegram already but I’ve not heard anything. I know he’s moving around a good deal, so it may be days before he gets it. We can’t count on him to appear and save the day. We’re alone, and we have no choice. We have to save those people – we simply can’t let the Baron win!’

  She stared around at them all: Billy’s anxious face, Lil’s nodding fervently, Leo looking pale and frightened, Tilly wide-eyed, Joe very grave. All at once, she realised that this was what had sent her father to South Africa. This was why he had risked everything – to stop the Baron once and for all. Now she knew that she must do the same.

  Her heart began to beat faster. ‘We don’t have much time, but if we plan carefully, and work together, we can p
ull this off. And though we may not be able to count on Scotland Yard or Mr McDermott or even Mr Sinclair to help us this time, there are people who we can trust, and who we can call on to help.’

  Lil sat up very straight in her chair. ‘Sophie’s right,’ she said. ‘We have to try.’

  ‘But Billy’s right too,’ Joe added quietly. ‘No point sugaring it. This is going to be tough. Fitzwilliam is a villain, and he’d be enough to contend with by himself – but we may have to face the Baron too. We know he’s fallen on hard times, so he’s going to be desperate – and desperation makes people dangerous. We’ve been lucky before but you all know that we can’t afford to underestimate him. He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. We’re going to have a real fight on our hands.’

  They all looked at each other sombrely, but then Lil spoke up. ‘Well luckily we happen to know quite a few people who are rather good at standing up for themselves in a fight,’ she said. She paused and looked over the table. ‘I say, Sophie – do you think it’s about time we told everyone what we’ve really been doing at Sewing Society?’

  PART V

  Murder at the Ball

  ‘Inspector!’ exclaimed Montgomery Baxter, in a terrible voice. ‘If we do not act, then I fear there will surely be a murder done before tonight is through!’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Sophie sat still in Monsieur Pascal’s chair, as the Sinclair’s hairdresser curled, twisted and pinned her hair. The face that looked back at her from the looking glass seemed strange to her – skin lightly dusted with powder, lips softly coloured with lip-rouge. She wore a brand-new Maison Chevalier outfit she had been given for the occasion: a green velvet frock with a green and gold sash at the waist, accompanied with high-heeled gold pumps. Monsieur Pascal was humming contentedly to himself as he completed her hairstyle with long gold pins decorated with sparkling jewelled peacock feathers. She felt quite unlike her usual self: the only thing she recognised about herself was Mama’s string of green beads around her neck. Now, she put up a hand to feel the familiar shape of them, but Monsieur Pascal slapped it away at once. ‘No fidgeting!’