by Darrell Pitt
He pointed into a room with a shaking hand. ‘There!’ he cried. ‘There!’
Jack caught a glimpse of a figure disappearing through the window—the black-haired man from the museum. Jack tore to the window, only to see the man scuttling down the wall like a spider.
‘My goodness!’ Scarlet said.
Jack was amazed. He had never seen anyone climb with such ease and he was holding a piece of the Broken Sun! The gold baton, with its myriad of strange symbols, glittered in the sunlight.
The professor lurched into the room. ‘You must retrieve the artefact!’ he shouted. ‘It’s priceless!’
They raced out of the castle. The thief was sprinting across a field towards a hill. Jack started after him, but Mr Doyle grabbed his arm and pointed back to the Lion’s Mane.
‘He must have transportation,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘If he does, we’ll never catch him on foot.’
Mr Doyle was right. No sooner had they risen above the field did they see another small airship taking off.
But Mr Doyle had them over the water in seconds. The thief’s airship was faster than the Lion’s Mane. He headed to a tiny island and rapidly descended to the beach. Mr Doyle landed just as the man disappeared inland on foot.
‘Best have Clarabelle ready,’ the detective said, drawing his gun as they left the airship. ‘Stay behind me.’
They made their way over a sandy knoll. The island was a wild, windswept place, covered in jagged hills and crevices. Flurries of sand danced over rocky dunes. Birds soared overhead, singing mournful songs. They followed a trail of footsteps until Mr Doyle grunted and drew to a halt.
‘There’s something wrong here,’ he said, pointing at the prints. ‘They are deeper at the heel than the toe.’
‘Why is that strange?’ Jack asked.
‘If he is running—which we can assume he is—his toes should be sinking into the ground first. Unless…’ The detective snapped his fingers. ‘What a fool I am! He has doubled back behind us.’
They raced back the way they had come. Another set of prints had already disturbed their own. Just as they reached the shore, they glimpsed the Lion’s Mane taking off towards the coast.
‘That scoundrel!’ Mr Doyle snapped. ‘He’s stolen our ship!’
The thief’s vessel lay moored on the beach, the name on the bow identifying it as the Pimpernel. They climbed aboard, only to find that the control panel had been smashed beyond repair.
Jack watched the Lion’s Mane disappear into the clouds.
‘He’s getting away,’ Mr Doyle said, ‘and we’re stuck on this island with no way to return.’
CHAPTER NINE
It was cold and dark on the island. The Pimpernel had blankets, but no pillows or food supplies. Mr Doyle started a fire while the team turned to their emergency supplies for sustenance.
‘Beef jerky,’ Jack said, biting down on the hard meat. ‘There’s nothing quite like it.’
‘There is, actually,’ Mr Doyle said, warming his hands. ‘I once ate my belt. It had a similar taste.’
‘You ate—’ Scarlet stopped. ‘Mr Doyle, did you say you once ate your belt?’
‘I did. I was stranded in the Carpathian Mountains without food and water. It was either eat my clothing or die of starvation.’
‘How horrible.’
‘It tasted far better than my boots,’ Mr Doyle said, shuddering. ‘I still have nightmares about those boots.’
The wind came up and they huddled around the fire. Jack’s eyes settled on Scarlet. She was an incredible girl. There was never a word of complaint from her. It seemed her spirit could not be quashed.
And she was so pretty! Even now her tangled hair, cast about by the breeze, perfectly framed her pixie face. And her eyes were as green as a deep forest. Her lips—
‘What’s wrong?’ Scarlet demanded, staring at him.
‘Huh?’
‘You’re grinning at me oddly. Is there something in my hair?’
‘No!’ Jack blushed. ‘I was just thinking.’
‘Well don’t! It doesn’t suit you!’
The temperature continued to drop. It may have been spring, but the strong onshore wind was icy. They kept an eye on the water, but no ships came into sight. The discussion returned to the case. Jack was enthusiastic that they had possession of the thief’s vessel until Mr Doyle pointed out it was stolen.
‘There are papers on board indicating the Pimpernel belongs to a Lady Jefferson of Sussex. She appears to own two dachshunds named Zali and Koko,’ he said. ‘I have taken note of the airship’s registration number, but I doubt it will lead to anything.’
Early the next morning, Mr Doyle managed to hail a passing fishing boat that took them back to the mainland. They ate a hearty meal in town before heading to Professor Stein’s castle. He was able to add little to what he had already told them: the robbery was still a mystery to him—as was the theft from the British Museum.
‘Professor Stein is lying,’ Mr Doyle said as they travelled on a train back to London. ‘He knows more than he’s letting on. We did learn one thing that may help us. The professor made a small slip about the artefact when we met him.’
Jack thought hard. ‘He said the Broken Sun was part of a map.’
‘Good boy.’
‘It’s hard to believe that odd contraption could be part of a map,’ Scarlet mused.
‘There have been many strange maps throughout history,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘One of the most unusual was a medieval German map of the world made by Gervase of Ebstorf. Measuring twelve feet wide, it was constructed from the skin of thirty goats.’
They arrived back at Bee Street a few hours later. Gloria threw together an impromptu lunch of sausages and potatoes, and Jack and Scarlet ate in the sitting room while Mr Doyle leafed through his mail. Jack turned to see a goldfish bowl filled with glass eyes. He was sure it hadn’t been there before.
Gloria stuck her head in. ‘I have good news,’ she said. ‘The Lion’s Mane has been found abandoned in Edmonton.’
‘Is she damaged?’ Mr Doyle asked.
Gloria confirmed the vessel was in excellent condition and already on route to them. The reception bell rang and she went to answer it, returning with a business card.
‘There’s a gentleman to see you,’ she said. ‘Tobias Bradstreet.’
‘The mining tycoon?’ Mr Doyle frowned. ‘Did he state his business?’
‘Something about being able to help you with your investigation.’
Scarlet bit her lip. ‘How would he know what we’re investigating?’
‘That is a mystery,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Show him in, Gloria.’
The man who stepped through the door was tall and thin with steel grey hair and broad shoulders. He carried a grave air about him, but he still smiled as he shook hands and took a seat.
‘I’ll get straight to the point,’ Bradstreet said. ‘I know you’re involved in the investigation of some stolen artefacts. I also have an interest in retrieving those same pieces.’
‘I am curious to kn
ow how you found out about our investigation,’ Mr Doyle said.
‘Let’s just say I have eyes and ears everywhere. I would like to engage your services.’
‘I am already employed by the British Museum. Obviously any information about the Broken Sun would be helpful.’ Mr Doyle paused. ‘I assume you’re one of the investors who backed the original expedition.’
‘I am. I’ve long had an interest in archaeology.’
‘What is so important about the Broken Sun?’
‘Let me ask you a question,’ Bradstreet said. ‘What do you know about Atlantis?’
‘Atlantis?’ Mr Doyle frowned. ‘It’s a mythical city, first mentioned in the writings of Plato around 360 BC. Supposedly it was destroyed by a disaster some 10,000 years ago.’
‘What if I told you it wasn’t a myth?’
‘Surely you don’t believe that?’
‘I do.’
‘Why?’
Bradstreet shook his head. ‘Let’s just say I’ve come across some evidence that confirms it was as real as London is today.’
‘I find that hard to believe,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Even ancient scholars thought it imaginary. It has only been in recent times that people have believed it really existed.’
‘It did exist and I intend to find it.’
Scarlet ran her hands through her hair. ‘So the pieces of the Broken Sun are some kind of map? A map that leads to Atlantis?’
Bradstreet nodded. ‘The evidence indicates Atlantis was an island in the Atlantic Ocean located to the west of Gibraltar. The cataclysm that destroyed it did so in a day and a night. It has been long rumoured that the Atlanteans were decimated by their own technology.’ He clenched his fists. ‘But I believe the map leads to something far more valuable.’
‘More valuable than Atlantis?’ Jack asked.
‘Indeed. I believe it points to the location of New Atlantis.’
‘New Atlantis?’ Mr Doyle said. ‘You think the Atlanteans survived the disaster?’
‘Of course they did!’ Bradstreet stood and began to pace the room. ‘They were an advanced race. Years ahead of anyone else. They could not be destroyed in one fell swoop! They escaped the disaster and rebuilt their empire. The question is, where?’
‘It’s a very entertaining story,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘However, I’m not a treasure hunter, I’m a detective. I doubt I can be of assistance to you.’
‘We are on the same path,’ Bradstreet urged. ‘Why not work together to solve one of history’s greatest mysteries?’
‘I’m not a treasure hunter.’
Tobias Bradstreet pursed his lips. ‘I can double what the British Museum is paying you. Triple it.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Bradstreet sighed. ‘That is a shame. With my money and resources, you could have been part of the most incredible investigation of your life. I would have thought more of the famous Ignatius Doyle.’
Mr Doyle smiled. ‘I’m sorry I don’t live up to my reputation.’
The men shook hands and Tobias Bradstreet departed.
‘Atlantis!’ Jack said. ‘I thought it was only a legend!’
‘It is only a legend,’ Mr Doyle said.
‘Although,’ Scarlet said, ‘there is often a foundation for legends. The story of Dracula was based on a medieval tyrant named Vlad the Impaler. And sailors are thought to have mistaken dugongs on rocky shorelines for mermaids.’
‘It’s possible such a city once existed, but whatever truth surrounds it has been long lost to history.’
‘What will we do now?’ Jack asked.
‘There is still a remaining piece of the Broken Sun to consider. It resides with Professor Howard Morely, a resident of Norway. I have already sent him a message that he may be in danger. Tomorrow we’ll leave to visit him to see if he can shed any light on the matter.’
Jack was too excited to sleep. Climbing into bed, his mind was still buzzing.
Atlantis, he thought. Was it really possible…?
The next thing he knew was that someone was knocking at his door. He blearily raised his head to see Mr Doyle.
‘Adventure calls.’
‘Was I asleep?’ Jack asked.
‘For about three hours.’
‘It felt like three minutes.’
‘You can grab more sleep on the way. The Lion’s Mane has been returned and appears to be in perfect order.’
Jack and Scarlet joined Mr Doyle on the roof. It was a pleasure to see the airship back in her usual position.
Mr Doyle sighed. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’
‘Thank you, Mr Doyle,’ Scarlet said.
‘Oh.’ The detective looked embarrassed. ‘I was actually talking to the ship.’ He disengaged the tie ropes and brought the engine to full power. ‘Next stop,’ he said, ‘Norway.’
CHAPTER TEN
It took a full day and a night to cross the North Sea. The lightening sky was wild with scudding clouds, and the wind howled as the thrumming engines pushed the Lion’s Mane onwards.
Mr Doyle was an excellent pilot, but strong headwinds kept buffeting the vessel about like a cork in a stream, until they finally crossed into Norwegian airspace.
‘Did you know that Norway has one of the most rugged coastlines in the world?’
Jack and Scarlet clung to a rail as the Lion’s Mane tilted wildly, but Mr Doyle seemed completely at ease.
‘No, I didn’t,’ Jack said. ‘We’re not about to crash into it, are we?’
‘Not at all,’ the detective laughed heartily. ‘What can you tell me about Norway?’
The ship seesawed in the other direction.
‘Uh…a lot of Norwegians live there.’
‘I must have a word to Miss Bloxley about your geography,’ Mr Doyle grumbled.
Scarlet spoke up. ‘Norway is known as the Land of the Midnight Sun,’ she said. ‘For some months of the year, the sun never completely descends below the horizon.’
‘Imagine that,’ Jack said.
The ship rocked.
Mr Doyle pushed a button on the console. ‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘That’s very unfortunate.’
‘What is?’ Jack’s voice had gone up a key. ‘Is something broken?’
‘I’m afraid so. I certainly didn’t prepare for this.’
Jack tried to remember the evacuation procedures for the ship. He was supposed to put on an inflatable lifejacket. Did he blow it up now? Or when he was in the water? And was it every man for himself? But he couldn’t leave Scarlet behind! Or Mr Doyle, for that matter…
‘The refrigerator has lost power,’ the detective said. ‘My cheese will be off.’
‘Your cheese…?’ Scarlet gaped.
‘I know,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘I’m disappointed too.’
Jack and Scarlet held on to the console as the airship tilted in the other direction.
‘I think Miss Bloxley might have mentioned Norway.’ Jack had learnt more about geography
, history, literature and languages in the last few months than in his whole life. ‘But it must have slipped my mind.’
‘The country of Norway has slipped your mind? The Norwegians would be less than pleased to hear that!’ Mr Doyle said as the Lion’s Mane seesawed again. ‘Exhilarating, isn’t it?’
‘Quite!’ Scarlet replied, crashing into Jack.
‘Goodness,’ Jack grunted.
‘Here’s an interesting fact for you,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Norway is growing larger.’
Jack peeped through the window at the ground, hoping its growth was not simply because they were about to crash into it.
‘The entire country was covered in an enormous sheet of ice during the last ice age,’ Mr Doyle explained. ‘It is now, if you like, “bouncing back” from the weight of that sheet because of a process known as isostatic rebound.’
The ship was hit by a gust that almost knocked Jack and Scarlet off their feet.
Bazookas. Jack knew his mentor was never without a book, even wandering about the rooms at Bee Street with a volume in hand—and they were often on the most scholarly subjects. Last week Mr Doyle had been on the back landing reading something entitled The Glorious History of Corsets and Their Tight Reign on British Society.
The wild winds eased and the detective steered the Lion’s Mane inland. Jack and Scarlet watched the landscape with interest. Mountains and ice and forests and inland bodies of water stretched in all directions. Mr Doyle explained that the country had many towns and cities, but the population was sparsely scattered through the countryside.
He finally landed in a forested valley, swathed in snow. Jack tethered the Lion’s Mane as Mr Doyle shut off the engine.
The detective stepped from the vessel, clapping his hands together. ‘We must come here later in the year,’ he said. ‘Norway enjoys quite warm temperatures during summer.’
