The Wilhelm Conspiracy (A Sherlock Holmes and Lucy James Mystery)

by Charles Veley

  “That would be an imprecise description of its function, but adequate. Electricity is not like light, and cold glass does not conduct electricity.”

  “So this missing lens-y thingummy,” said Arkwright. “It’s made of metal?”

  Tesla stiffened, apparently taking offence at Arkwright’s casual tone. Then he shrugged, as though refusing to dignify the question with a reply.

  After a moment’s silence, Lansdowne said, “Let us continue with our introductions. Adrian, this is Lord Kerren’s niece, Harriet Radnar. She is one of us. We have recently placed her in the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company.”

  “That statement is not entirely accurate,” said Harriet. “Lord Kerren is the brother of my stepmother. He is not my uncle.”

  “Thank you, Miss Radnar. I seem to be getting my facts muddled this morning. Possibly that is due to the excitement and gravity of the situation. In any event, Miss Radnar, is it accurate to say that you are about to depart for Bad Homburg, where Lord Kerren is now?”

  “He is staying there, in the residence that belongs to my father.”

  “Thank you. Adrian, will you be staying here at the hotel?”

  “I will be sailing for Calais this afternoon. I have a concert in Baden-Baden on Wednesday.”

  Lucy spoke up. “How far is that from Bad Homburg? Harriet and I would love to attend.”

  “It is less than three hours away. There is a train.” He turned to Lansdowne. “But Henry, who is this lovely young lady?”

  “I beg your pardon, Miss James,” said Lansdowne. “Adrian, this is Miss Lucy James, also with the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company and sailing for Bad Homburg this afternoon. I hope that she also will provide us with valuable information.”

  “Charmed, Miss James,” said Arkwright. “Lovely girl like you, you’ll want to keep a weather eye out for the Prince. He’s been known—”

  “I have heard the gossip,” Lucy replied.

  “Now, Adrian,” said Lansdowne. “What is your news?”

  His moment at hand, Arkwright leaned back in his chair, interlaced his fingers, and turned his palms outwards, luxuriating in a stretch. “The Kaiser is staying in Bad Homburg at his castle. Normally he is not there in September, but he has come back. He met with the Prince last Friday. I attended their meeting as the entertainment—they’re uncle and nephew and hate each other, as you know, and music hath charms.”

  “Who asked for you to attend?”

  “The Kaiser. He told the Prince that what he called the ‘electric cannon’ invented by Lord Kerren and Mr. Tesla is in his possession—”

  Tesla looked alarmed. “I assure you I have nothing to do with the German government—”

  “—and he proposed that England and Germany form an alliance to produce the weapon for their own uses and to keep it away from France and Russia.”

  Holmes said, “Try to give us his exact words, Mr. Arkwright. Be as precise as you can manage.”

  But Arkwright seemed not to hear. He was staring out of the wide glass French windows and getting to his feet. “Look out there!” he exclaimed, coming around the table.

  We looked around. Outside, hanging in the air over the Channel, about a hundred feet above us and perhaps a quarter mile out to sea, was a military balloon, bathed in the sunlight, as though it were a leading performer lit up by an arc light on a theatre stage. Holmes flung open the French doors and we crowded between them, the better to see.

  “Look on the right side of the sphere,” said Holmes. “At the lower edge. Smoke.”

  We came outside for a better view. Leaning over the ramparts, we stared as the balloon drifted out over the ships in the harbour and towards the blue waters of the Channel.

  “It’s coming up from the gondola,” said Lucy.

  We watched in fascination. There were indeed wisps of smoke issuing from inside the gondola, a black-painted wicker basket suspended from the balloon. The gondola appeared to be empty, though even from this distance it was apparent that it had sufficient capacity to carry several men and a quantity of weapons.

  In the next moment, there was a brilliant flash. Above the gondola the balloon suddenly split apart into fragments. Then it collapsed midair into a heap of rope and fabric, and plummeted, along with the gondola, into the grey Channel waters.

  “What in God’s name was that?” Arkwright asked.

  Harriet pointed to the coastal cliffs to the north of us. “I can see Radnar House over there,” she said. “And I saw a flash of light just before the explosion. I think the light came from Kerren House.”

  “Someone is taunting us,” said Lansdowne.

  11. RETURN TO KERREN HOUSE

  Holmes and I lost no time in returning to Kerren House, pausing only for Holmes to acquire an ordnance map of the area, which he folded and tucked into his inside jacket pocket. Lansdowne and Tesla accompanied us. Arkwright wanted to come along as well, and so did Lucy and Harriet; however, as Holmes pointed out, the boat for Calais would be departing later, and they would need to pack their luggage for the journey to their respective destinations in Germany.

  At the entrance, two guards in their smart black uniforms drew themselves up to attention as we approached. The taller man told us they had seen no one on the drive all morning.

  Much to their chagrin, however, when we walked around to the rear of Kerren House, the exterior of the conservatory told a different tale. The glass-paned entry door stood wide open, with the glass from the pane above the door’s lock neatly cut out in a circular pattern. The glass disc itself lay neatly to one side of the door frame. Close to the open doorway was the empty metallic circle of the apparatus that we had inspected the previous evening. The great kettledrum shape was now angled slightly upwards.

  The red-faced guards made their apologies. Lansdowne sent the taller man back to his post, bidding the other remain at the edge of the lawn leading to the cliff, where he could keep watch on the trail below.

  Holmes appeared to take no notice of these arrangements. Nor did he look for any footprints that the intruder might have left on the lawn. Instead he entered the conservatory and motioned for us to join him alongside the apparatus.

  “Mr. Tesla,” he said. “Would you please inspect the wires protruding from the six metal argon cylinders and tell us whether they may have recently been connected.”

  “The wires have been moved. They are not positioned in the way I left them last night. Also, the brackets on the top ring are at different angles.”

  Lansdowne asked, “So we can conclude that the machine was made operable, and then once more disabled?”

  “There is nothing here that contradicts such an assumption,” said Tesla.

  “Someone wanted to demonstrate that the machine was workable,” I observed. “Whoever it was deliberately left the conservatory without taking the trouble to conceal what he had done.”

  “Once again, the key apparatus is nowhere to be found,” said Holmes. “The question is whether the person responsible is taking it to Germany.” His fingertip traced the circumference of the empty metal ring. “This ring is approximately one foot in diameter. If that indicates the size of the missing piece, it could easily be concealed in a suitcase.”

  Lansdowne’s dark eyes blazed. “I will post soldiers at every departing vessel and every departing train. Every suitcase and every parcel of that size will be inspected. We shall do all we can.”

  “Most commendable,” Holmes said. “But assuming the missing piece can be disassembled, our thief might distribute the parts to several people. Those people might leave England by several different ports, and then reassemble anywhere.”

  “Well, it’s no good taking a defeatist tack—”

  “However, we can investigate on several alternative lines,” Holmes went on. “Interview the hotel staff. Inquire of neighbours or passersby whether they have seen anyone enter or leave this house. Cover the path below. See where the balloon was brought in. Was it launched from the beach? What were the prevaili
ng winds at the time? Was the intention to demonstrate to us while we were meeting at the garrison, and if so, how did anyone know we were meeting there?”

  “I think that last is unlikely,” said Lansdowne.

  “Yet we have established that there is a traitor in your organization.”

  Lansdowne’s worried expression took on an air of defiance. “You need not throw that up at me. I am perfectly aware—”

  “You said Harriet Radnar has been working for you,” Holmes interrupted smoothly once more, his tone remaining just as bland. “And you indicated that Lucy James would be reporting to you from Germany as well. Why do you need a second actress?”

  “The reason is a sensitive one.”

  I saw a momentary flash of annoyance in Holmes’s grey eyes. Then he replied, “Have you ever had cause to doubt my discretion? Or Dr. Watson’s?”

  After a pause and a long, searching look at Holmes, Lansdowne replied. “The Crown Prince is unpredictable and unreliable. He is an intelligent, well-educated, and headstrong man, who for some years has been thoroughly dissatisfied with the limited influence permitted him by Her Majesty. In consequence, he always seeks to play a more meaningful role, which gets us into difficulty.”

  “I do not follow you, Mr. Secretary.”

  “This alliance business that Arkwright has described between the Kaiser and the Prince would be an example.”

  “Yes, but I do not see where Miss James fits in.”

  “I shall be blunt. The Prince of Wales fancies Miss James.”

  “You hope he will tell her something in . . . private.”

  “At an unguarded moment, shall we say?”

  I saw the colour rise in Holmes’s cheeks. Yet such was his self-control that this was my only clue as to the emotion he must have felt at seeing his daughter being made a pawn in what surely could be described as a dangerous espionage intrigue. To Lansdowne or Tesla, he must have appeared no more sensitive about Lucy’s proposed role than any decent man would about any young woman’s being asked to place herself in a compromising position.

  “How do you know of the Prince’s feelings for Miss James?” Holmes asked.

  “He told Miss Radnar, after seeing Miss James in a performance at the Savoy Theatre in June.”

  I watched Holmes closely. His clear grey eyes continued to conceal the emotion that I knew he must have felt. Although he presented himself to the world as a calculating, machine-like intellect, and I attempted to sustain this impression in all my published accounts of our adventures, I knew this was a deliberate role that he, the consummate actor, had taken upon himself to play in order to protect those close to him.

  Tesla smiled in the way of a man in the company of other men. “She is quite attractive. I can understand His Majesty’s opinion.”

  “Indeed,” said Holmes, still appearing indifferent. “I believe she has been in the employ of the company for nearly a year. No doubt she has the experience and the knowledge required for her to take care of herself.”

  “I must be returning to the garrison,” said Lansdowne.

  12. OUTDOOR INVESTIGATION

  A few minutes later we had reached the generator shed, a small rough wooden structure only a few steps from the edge of the cliff. Holmes opened the unpainted wooden door, looked in, and then pointed to the black metal object that thrummed steadily at the side of the shed. “Mr. Tesla?”

  “An electrical generator. The metal tank alongside contains petrol, judging from the odour.”

  A rusted pipe led upwards from the generator to the wooden boards that formed the roof, barely six inches over our heads. From the base of the generator, two sets of wires, each braided into a thick cable and covered with black fabric, led to the roof, several feet from where the pipe made its exit.

  A thought occurred to me. “Holmes,” I asked, “do you think someone might have used the hot gas exhausted by the generator in order to fill the balloon?”

  He was already outside, bent over, walking carefully around the shed. “I see no footprints or markings to suggest the use of a ladder.”

  “Possibly the ground has been swept.”

  “However, I do see eleven five-gallon fuelling cans stacked neatly here at the back.” I heard the tinny sound of rapping, repeated eleven times. “They all appear to be empty.”

  The cables from the generator were hung on wooden poles about half as tall and thick as those that carried similar electric wires on London streets. Two of the cables led to Kerren House. A third led to another outbuilding, larger than the generator shed, but also with rough board exterior walls, only a few paces away. This building was silent.

  Holmes opened the door to the other outbuilding. It was heavily padded with decrepit-looking pads of some sort of quilting. The same type of quilting had been applied to the interior walls and ceiling. The cotton spilled out of the pads at random intervals, sagging down as if it had been neglected for some time. Inside at the far right end was a tall wooden box, painted white with its own door. The black cable that descended from the ceiling entered the box from an opening at the top. On our left, in puddles of water littered with hay and the remnants of hessian sacking, were blocks of ice, layered on more hessian and stacked in rows that ascended like stairs to the low ceiling.

  “Mr. Tesla?”

  Tesla, after a dubious glance at the wet and grimy floor and at his sawdust-tarnished patent leather shoes, advanced to the tall box. He opened the door and glanced inside. “This would be a refrigeration compression unit. I expect it was used to manufacture argon to contain the electrical beam, but I do not see any collection apparatus.” He looked back at the melting blocks of ice, then at two metallic plates, bulging with tubes that ran from an opening in the wall of the tall box, through the plates, and then back into the box. “The cold fluid coming from the condenser inside this box is pumped through these tubes into these hollow plates—”

  Holmes interrupted. He was bent over the lowest level of ice blocks, closely inspecting the fibres of hessian that were embedded in their upper surface. “Could the machine be used to manufacture these blocks of ice?”

  “Only with different equipment. Here we have no collection box in which blocks could be formed. Also, ice is commonly available from the commercial icehouses, so manufacture here would not be economical.”

  Holmes had scraped some of the hessian fibres into an envelope, which he now tucked into his jacket pocket. “Why is the refrigeration machine located here, rather than in the conservatory?”

  “You would need to ask Lord Kerren. I suppose he might have placed the machine here for reasons of economy. The plates cool the room, so while he was chilling air in order to extract the argon within it, the cold plates would slow down the rate that the ice melts. And the heat from the compressor, as you see, escapes the insulated box and the room through this metal pipe leading to the roof.”

  “Yet the refrigeration unit is turned off. And we are three months from winter. Presumably this is the time when delivery from commercial sources becomes most expensive.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “No matter. Lord Kerren may clear up the matter for us. Watson, do you detect the scent of coal smoke?” Holmes was exiting through the open doorway. He turned his steps towards the back of the icehouse. I followed him and together we reached the edge of the cliff.

  Leaning over the precipice, we saw below us several men manoeuvring a rowing boat down to the water’s edge. Closer to the cliff was a gypsy caravan. A thin wisp of smoke issued from a chimney pipe at the back of its roof.

  13. FAREWELL AND HELLO

  Holmes was keen to speak with the gypsies, so a few minutes later we were crossing the lawn at the rear of Radnar House, about to descend the walking trail that would take us to the beach. At the centre of the lawn, however, Tesla stopped.

  “Here I must bid you farewell,” he said. “I depend on several extremely busy men to fund my projects, and I have appointments with one of them in Calais. I
must not keep him waiting. At this stage of my work, my constant need for capital must be my first priority.”

  “I am sure many who enjoy the benefits of electricity are grateful to you,” Holmes replied.

  Tesla’s face tightened and he looked away as if he were momentarily embarrassed. Then he turned to me. “Dr. Watson, I do hope you will take the opportunity to visit me in Bad Homburg. As a medical man, you will be highly interested in the advantages of electricity as a mode of therapy for a great number of illnesses. No doubt you can learn much that will assist you in your medical practice.”

  He held out his gloved hand and I shook it politely. I did not know whether electricity was indeed the panacea that Mr. Tesla obviously thought it was, or whether it was the humbug and quackery that gave so many in my profession occasion to scoff. I wished for a moment that I had kept up with the latest published research on the subject.

  But Holmes was speaking. “Mr. Tesla, I hope you will be careful while you are in Germany. If indeed someone there is in possession of the missing component, you may be coerced into helping to make it operational.”

  Tesla looked away without replying, then turned and strode towards the hotel.

  We started down the path a moment later. After only a few paces, however, we halted.

  On the path coming towards us was Lucy.

  She said, “I was walking down to the beach when I heard your voices.”

  Holmes looked momentarily puzzled. “I thought you would be departing for your ferry to Calais.”

  “Oh, that’s all changed. We’re not leaving until tomorrow.”

  “Why?”

  “Mr. Arkwright sails today, with Lady Radnar. He thinks the Germans are watching him, so he does not want to be seen travelling with Harriet or me. Particularly when we get to Germany.”

  “That may be a prudent precaution.”

  Lucy paused for a moment, then smiled with delight. “You think he doesn’t want us with him?”

  I saw a flash of pride in Holmes’s grey eyes. “You are sharpening your powers of observation and deduction.”