Sophie stared at him. The idea startled her, but at once she saw what he meant. If the Loyal Order of Lions had been working to stop the Baron and the Fraternitas Draconum, then she and Lil and the others had been following in their footsteps all along. Without even knowing it, they had continued the work of her parents, and Colonel Fairley, and Grandfather Lim.
She had not been alone at all, she saw in a sudden clear, bright flash. She had been part of something since the beginning. Not a family perhaps, but something bigger. They were all part of it: Lil and Billy and Joe; and Mei and Song; and Leo and Jack; and Tilly – and goodness, even Veronica and Mr Pendleton. The thought made warmth swell up inside her and burst out into words.
‘I don’t care about the letter,’ she said. ‘Whatever’s in it, it won’t bring him back.’
The Baron grinned at her, cold as a snake. ‘But I know what you do care about,’ he said. ‘The Lions always counted friendship as more important than anything. You care about your friend – so what will you sacrifice to save her?’
Sophie and Lil’s eyes met, and for a moment, Sophie was back on the roof garden of Sinclair’s, when Lil had been captured and held at gunpoint by Mr Cooper and the Baron’s Boys. It seemed like a very long time ago. There had been only one thing she could do then – but things were different now.
Behind them, on the balcony of Sinclair’s, Sophie was aware that the lights had come on in a blaze of gold: she could see them reflected in Lil’s eyes. Any moment now, the King would appear.
‘You’re out of time,’ hissed the Baron.
‘No,’ said Sophie, with a sudden smile. ‘You are.’
Even as she spoke, Lil elbowed the Baron sharply in the stomach. In the split second that he flinched and gasped, she twisted with a deft move that Mr Lim had taught them. She hit his arm with all her strength – and the knife fell to the floor.
As she did so, Sophie leapt forward. Behind her, flanked by retainers, the stately figure of His Majesty had appeared on the balcony. The crowd in the street below roared in delight. The Baron gave a yell of frustration and pushed Lil roughly to the side: she fell hard to the ground. He grabbed his knife again and made a rush towards Sophie.
Sophie might not know how to shoot, but she suddenly realised that was not the only use for a heavy rifle. She braced herself and swung the gun as hard as she could at the Baron. For a moment he staggered, but then he was steady on his feet, coming at her again with the knife. She swung out with the rifle once more and knocked the knife from his hands, where it went skidding across the floor in the direction of the office door. But the Baron was too strong, and almost before she knew it he had ripped the rifle from her hands, and was pointing it straight at her chest.
All of a sudden, he began to laugh. ‘No!’ cried Lil, making a desperate dash for the knife, but as she lunged across the floor to reach it, she saw it come to rest beside a black shiny shoe.
There was someone else standing in the office doorway.
Below them, on Piccadilly Circus, the people were counting down to midnight.
‘Ten!’
‘Hurry! Hurry!’ screamed Mei up on the rooftop, as Tilly feverishly clipped one red wire, then another.
‘Nine! Eight!’
Jack and Leo pushed their way frantically through the crowds in the fifth-floor restaurant, towards the balcony where the King now stood.
‘Seven! Six!’
Connie came racing back towards Billy down the darkened alley: ‘Have they done it?’ she demanded urgently, looking up at the small figures working busily above.
‘Five! Four!’
Lil gaped upwards from the floor of the office building. Standing above her in the doorway was Mr Sinclair – and he was holding a revolver.
‘Three! Two!’
Mr Sinclair looked at Sophie and the Baron, the revolver steady in his hand.
‘One!’
It was midnight. Across London, church bells clanged out triumphantly, and on Piccadilly Circus there was a tremendous booming sound. Sophie was vaguely aware of explosions going on all around them, even as she stared at Mr Sinclair – and then a single shot rang out.
Down in the streets below, the crowds went ‘Ooh!’ and ‘Aah!’ The sky above Piccadilly Circus was filled with a blaze of light. Fireworks bloomed above them: emerald-green and sapphire, indigo and violet, gold and silver starbursts, illuminating the dark night with rich sparkling colour.
‘It’s 1910!’ whispered the girl with roses in her hat excitedly to her young man. ‘I wonder what this year will bring?’
Everyone turned their faces upwards, children swayed high on their parents’ shoulders, and up in the windows of Sinclair’s, the shop girls and the porters, the salesman and the waiters, the doormen and the kitchen staff had all crowded around the windows to watch too.
‘What a wonderful way to ring in the New Year!’ exclaimed Mrs Milton, dabbing her eyes with a lacy hanky.
‘Now that is what I call a spectacle,’ agreed Claudine. ‘Magnifique!’
‘The Captain’s done us proud,’ said Mr Betteredge. ‘But then, he always does.’
‘Where’s Edith?’ whispered Violet to Minnie. ‘She’s missing it all!’
But Minnie just shrugged. ‘Ooh – isn’t it lovely?’ was all she said.
Somewhere behind them, they heard Sid Parker call out ‘Happy New Year!’ and a moment later they were all saying it to each other, kissing cheeks and shaking hands. ‘Happy New Year! Happy New Year!’
Up on the balcony, the King himself was admiring the display, and the guests of the Midnight Peacock Ball had come out to join him. Not far away from where His Majesty stood were Jack and Leo, both looking rather tired but immensely relieved – and beside them, Veronica, Mr Pendleton, Phyllis and Hugo Devereaux.
‘A very Happy New Year, everyone!’ announced Mr Devereaux, before promptly kissing Phyllis.
Mr Pendleton stared at them for a moment, but then, to his great astonishment, he realised that Veronica was standing up on tiptoes to kiss him too.
He broke away, his cheeks scarlet. ‘Oh – I say!’ he blustered in surprise.
But Veronica just smiled at him radiantly – and then he blushed even more and kissed her back.
Somewhere far below them, in the alleyway beside the Piccadilly Restaurant, Billy and Connie found that they were shaking each others’ hands quite vigorously, whilst Lucky gave a little whine and tried to hide behind Daisy – she had decided that she didn’t much care for fireworks. Above them, on the scaffolding behind the DRINK PERRIER WATER sign, Joe and Mei seemed to be enacting a kind of victory dance, whilst Tilly grinned out over the magic rooftops of London that she had so long wanted to see.
In the empty fifth-floor office of the building across Piccadilly, the Baron fell to the floor, and London’s most famous department store owner calmly pocketed his revolver, and dusted off his hands on an immaculate silk handkerchief.
‘Well, then – I guess that’s that,’ he said.
PART VI
Montgomery Baxter’s Casebook
‘And so I shall reveal the truth – at last!’ exclaimed the brave boy detective.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
One week after the Midnight Peacock Ball, a much smaller and more intimate gathering was held in the office of Taylor & Rose, London’s first (and only) young ladies’ detective agency.
Two waiters had been sent along with trays of refreshments from the Marble Court Restaurant. They looked at each other in surprise, eyeing the spread of dainty sandwiches, mouthwatering buns and crumpets dripping with butter.
‘What do you suppose they want with all this lot?’ asked one, confused.
‘Giving a party, I expect,’ said the other.
‘I didn’t think detectives gave parties.’
‘Well, they are young lady detectives, aren’t they?’ said the other waiter, as though this explained a great deal.
In the office, Lil accepted the trays, and added the refreshme
nts to what was already an impressive spread. Its centrepiece was the large cake that Song had brought, iced with an intricate design of peacock feathers. ‘It seemed like the right thing,’ he said with a grin.
It had been difficult to fit everyone in, but now they had managed at last. Sophie and Lil perched on one desk, and Billy and Joe on the other, with Daisy as usual leaning her head against Joe’s knee. Mei, Song and Tilly were on the hearthrug with Lucky between them, Phyllis and Hugo Devereaux shared one big armchair whilst Leo took another, with Jack and Connie leaning against the arms. Across from them, Mr Pendleton and Veronica were on the sofa, sitting slightly apart and being overtly polite to each other, although Sophie’s sharp eyes had noticed at once that Veronica was now wearing a large and very shiny diamond ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.
They’d even managed to squeeze in Mr and Mrs Lim, who were chatting to Detective Inspector Worth, and of course Mr McDermott who had returned to London just in time to join them for the party. But the guest of honour was Mr Sinclair himself, who sat in their very best chair.
When everyone was supplied with tea and cake, Mr Sinclair cleared his throat and held his teacup aloft. ‘It doesn’t seem quite right to propose a toast without a glass of champagne – but just the same, I think we should all drink the health of Miss Sophie Taylor and Miss Lilian Rose, the smartest and bravest young detectives in London. And all the rest of you who played your part in helping them to stop the Baron on New Year’s Eve.’
‘Hear hear!’ called out Detective Worth.
‘Oh, don’t bother drinking our health!’ Lil burst out excitedly. ‘What we really want is for you to tell us everything. We want you to go back to the beginning.’
Sinclair smiled at her. ‘Right back to the beginning? Well, I’m afraid the beginning goes back pretty far. But we’ll do our best.’
It was Detective Worth who began: ‘All this really begins with an ancient secret society – the Brotherhood of Dragons, sometimes called the Fraternitas Draconum. We still know very little about them: but what we do know is that they are a group of rich, powerful men, who work together to further their own interests. They are active across Europe, and their influence now stretches as far as America. We don’t know who leads them, nor where their central headquarters is located – but over the centuries, they have played a key part in bringing about terrible events, such as wars and disasters, to suit their own ends.’
Mr McDermott took up the tale: ‘Most recently, we learned that they were conspiring to start a war in Europe, building on tensions between England and Germany. This was at the heart of the Baron’s plan. He hoped that the assassination of the King and the attack on Piccadilly Circus would be blamed on German terrorists – and would act as a spark to ignite war. This war would benefit him and the other members of the society, who would be well placed to sell secret information and trade weapons like their new explosives – and ultimately, to profit.’
Mr Sinclair continued: ‘Of course, as you know, this plot was a last-ditch effort for the Baron. He had lost most of his valuable assets, and whilst he had once been a senior figure in the society, his fellows had lost confidence in him when his plan to steal the dragon paintings went so badly wrong, and risked exposing them. Now, he hoped to redeem himself – and, we believe, to prove himself to whoever is in charge of the organisation. Luckily he still had access to the factory in Silvertown – and the loyal support of Raymond Fitzwilliam.’
McDermott added: ‘You’ll remember that Fitzwilliam had once been an actor. That made him exactly the right person to pose as a firework specialist – and lay the explosives in place around Piccadilly. I suspect the Baron enjoyed the idea that all this would happen right under Mr Sinclair’s nose, as part of his New Year’s celebrations. He might even have hoped that Mr Sinclair would be blamed – or suspected of colluding with the Germans.’
Everyone was listening intently, but Jack spoke up with a question: ‘I say – what happened to Fitzwilliam on New Year’s Eve?’ he asked. ‘Is he still at large?’
Connie grinned as she answered: ‘Oh no! After Bunty and Dora dealt with him, we found a nice young policeman and I reported him for bothering young ladies – and he got arrested! He was awfully cross. I rather think Dora might have broken his nose,’ she added reflectively.
‘But of course, Fitzwilliam wasn’t the Baron’s only ally in this,’ said Detective Worth.
Leo nodded soberly. She knew exactly what he was getting at. ‘Lady Tremayne was his accomplice. She was the one he met secretly at Winter Hall.’
‘That’s right. A clever and dangerous woman. Our men had a close eye on her on the night of the ball, but she gave them the slip, disguising herself so she would not be recognised. Happily in the event you and Mr Rose were on hand to identify her – and I must say, you dealt with her most effectively.’
Jack grinned. In the chaos of New Year’s Eve, it had been a while before they had had chance to return to the Millinery storeroom, where they had left Lady Tremayne. There, they had found the door had been opened, and Lady Tremayne was long gone, instead there was only a very annoyed Edith, smarting over having missed the fireworks and all the fun.
They had later learned that Lady Tremayne had left the country altogether. Leo’s mother had received a hastily scribbled letter, announcing that Lady Tremayne was sailing to New York on personal business, and did not expect to return to England for some time.
‘I suppose she must have been duping us all along,’ said Leo now, in rather a small voice. ‘I suppose she didn’t really care about me at all.’
But Jack looked at her thoughtfully. ‘No, Leo – you’re wrong. If she didn’t care about you, she wouldn’t have risked taking off her mask, and showing us who she was. But she took the risk of revealing herself and telling you to go home. That was how important it was to her to keep you safe – and stop you getting hurt.’
Leo looked back at him in surprise and gratitude, as Lil said: ‘It’s just so strange that she was the one in league with the Baron all along. We could never have expected that!’
‘Well – perhaps not in league with him exactly,’ amended Detective Worth. ‘It was something more than that. In Mr Sinclair and Mr McDermott’s investigations over the past few months, they discovered that Lady Tremayne was not simply working with the Baron – she was his sister.’
‘His sister?’ repeated Billy incredulously.
McDermott nodded. ‘Likely she was the one you saw at the Silvertown factory. She acted as the Baron’s go-between while he was in hiding. It appears that she was linked closely to the Fraternitas Draconum – for although women themselves are not permitted to be members, we believe her deceased husband Lord Tremayne was a senior figure in the society, as well as her brother.’
‘I – I didn’t even know that Lady Tremayne had a brother!’ exclaimed Leo.
But Sophie’s mind was working in a different direction. ‘If you know that Lady Tremayne was his sister, then does that mean you’ve learned who the Baron really was?’ she asked.
Mr Sinclair grinned around at them all, looking rather proud of himself. ‘We have indeed – after quite considerable investigation.’ He removed a photograph from his pocket, and handed it to Sophie with a flourish. ‘John Hardcastle, the youngest son of the Duke of Cleveland, born 1860. Viola Hardcastle, his sister, was born seven years later – and grew up to marry Lord Tremayne.’
‘He was an aristocrat?’ asked Lil, leaning over Sophie’s shoulder so they could look together at the vaguely familiar face of the smartly dressed young man, staring insolently back at them from the old photograph.
‘He was. But he was also a rogue, and by the time he was twenty he had been disinherited by his father, and had run away to join the Army. At first he was posted to India, but he soon fell foul of his regiment, and ended up attached to a different battalion in Egypt.’
Sophie looked up excitedly at the mention of Egypt, as Sinclair went on: ‘We’ve confirmed that th
e Baron – or I suppose I ought to call him Hardcastle – served with Miss Taylor’s father in Egypt in the late 1880s. We have also discovered that a young Englishwoman, Miss Alice Grayson, was a resident of Cairo at around the same time.’
‘Then my mother actually lived in Egypt?’ asked Sophie in astonishment.
‘That’s right – it would appear she was resident there for a number of years, after first travelling there as quite a young girl with her father, an archaeologist studying the ancient tombs. Her father died several years later, leaving her alone in Cairo. Not long afterwards she met Captain Taylor-Cavendish and married him – and they returned to England together.’
‘So that was where it all began,’ Sophie murmured. She turned to Mr Sinclair: ‘From everything the Baron said, I think that perhaps he and my father really were friends once. But then they quarrelled – perhaps when my father married my mother.’
Sinclair nodded. ‘You may be right. Of course, the Baron’s history is a complicated puzzle. He has always used different names, and has travelled widely. That’s partly why it has taken us so long to uncover the truth. There are still many questions to be answered but we do know that he soon became involved in the Fraternitas Draconum – and a few years afterwards, John Hardcastle was reported to have deserted from the British Army.’
‘After that his movements are uncertain,’ continued Mr McDermott. ‘We know he travelled in Asia and the United States and was involved in various schemes. Then, in 1897, he returned to London in the guise of the lost Lord Beaucastle, heir to the great Beaucastle fortune. Of course, by then everyone had long forgotten about the disgraced youngest son of the Duke of Cleveland. The Baron began to establish a foothold in the East End, and he soon became one of the top men at the London headquarters of the Fraternitas Draconum. He gained money and power – but he also sought respectability, through his pose as Lord Beaucastle. It seems he hoped to work his way back into the aristocratic circles that had once rejected him.’
The Midnight Peacock Page 21
