by Darrell Pitt
‘An umbrella and a…what?’ Jack asked.
‘It was a very vicious poodle.’
Jack knew better than to argue.
By the time they set off again, the sun was low in the sky and it was hot inside the Lion’s Mane. Below lay the sea. Jack watched the passing islands with interest. They were like pieces of jewellery laid out on a sheet of shimmering glass. He could see small towns on many of them, but several looked uninhabited.
‘There’s a lot of islands down there,’ he murmured.
‘Thousands,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Trying to find the right one is like finding a needle in a haystack.’ He examined his map. ‘I believe we are close, but it may take a few minutes to determine which one is Kasos.’
Mr Doyle continued to examine his map. Finally he gave a satisfied grunt and steered the airship towards a pair of sunbaked islands. The larger had hills running down its centre with small towns and connecting roads on either side. He aimed the Lion’s Mane towards the southern end, bringing it in to land near a fishing port.
They disembarked, tying the Lion’s Mane to a nearby railing. An elderly man came out of his house and Mr Doyle spoke to him in Greek before handing over a few coins.
‘It seems we must pay for parking,’ the detective said. ‘Not an unreasonable request.’
‘Was he able to tell you anything about Miss Carfax?’ Jack asked.
He nodded. ‘She is quite well known. She has a house on the shoreline about a mile west of here.’
They followed a path around the coast. The ground was dry and rocky with scattered scrub clinging to the hills. Far below, the sea was clear and clean; a sailing boat moved across the shimmering water. Jack hoped they might be able to find accommodation; the bunks on board the Lion’s Mane were fine, but nothing like sleeping in a real bed.
Jack spotted a large white house up the hill. It had two storeys and a flat roof except for a circular dome, painted blue, at the rear. The doors were azure with turquoise frames. Potted plants, crowded with flowers, hung along the walls. Wide awnings protected the windows.
A small steamer lay moored in the harbour below. Mr Doyle quickened his pace.
‘I don’t like the look of that vessel,’ he said.
‘They may only be tourists,’ Scarlet said.
‘We’ll see.’
As they walked up the driveway to the front door, Jack heard a high-pitched scream from inside.
Mr Doyle pulled out his gun and threw himself at the door.
‘Take your hands off that woman!’ he shouted.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A man with blond hair slowly swung a machine gun towards Mr Doyle. ‘That’s a very nice revolver,’ he said. ‘I suggest you put it down before you hurt yourself.’
‘You will be the ones surrendering your weapons,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘The authorities will be here within seconds.’
Another man with a scar running down the side of his face had a gun trained on a woman with greying hair. Presumably, she was Phoebe Carfax. A black-haired man had his weapon pointed at an elderly Greek maid tied to a chair.
A glance passed between Blondie and Scar Face.
‘I don’t believe you,’ Scar Face said. ‘You’re lying.’
‘You don’t have to believe me,’ Mr Doyle replied. ‘Lower your weapons and no-one will be hurt.’
‘Pain may be unavoidable,’ Black Hair said.
‘Jack,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Release the lady that these men have so impolitely tied to that chair.’
‘Don’t move.’
Black Hair waved his machine gun at Jack. It was cool in the darkening room, lit now by two oil lamps on the mantelpiece, but a trickle of sweat slid down Jack’s cheek.
Mr Doyle cocked his head. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘That sounds like the police.’
Black Hair looked to his companions. At the same moment, Mr Doyle grabbed Jack and Scarlet, dragging them behind a stone table. Then he fired twice at the lamps and they exploded, scattering fire across the room. Black Hair fired the machine gun back, razing the wall behind them.
‘They’re over there, officers!’ Mr Doyle cried. ‘Shoot! Shoot!’
The two men shot at the open door and Mr Doyle rolled out from behind the table. In the flickering light he was more like a ghost than a man. He crossed the room in an instant. Phoebe swung about, elbowing Blondie in the stomach, just as Mr Doyle reached Black Hair and knocked him out with a single blow.
Jack heard a sound from behind. Climbing to his feet, he saw the silhouettes of men, armed with machine guns, racing up the path.
Somehow I don’t think they’re the police.
He threw himself at the door, slamming it shut, and jammed an armchair under the handle. Scarlet crept over to him.
‘Not wanting more visitors?’ she asked.
‘I’m a party pooper,’ he said. The door shuddered as men hammered against it.
Scarlet grabbed Jack’s arm. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Move! Those men have guns!’
They scrambled towards Mr Doyle and Phoebe Carfax. The detective had disposed of Scar Face and was now engaged in a fistfight with Blondie. Phoebe snatched up a candlestick, swung it like a baseball bat, and the man slipped senseless to the ground.
Bullets smashed through the timber door. Jack and Scarlet went to help the maid, who was struggling to remove her bonds. Now she finally broke loose, but cried out as another wave of bullets sliced through the door. She fell in a heap.
Mr Doyle fired a few warning shots at the doorway as Phoebe rushed over. ‘Oh my God,’ she moaned. ‘Sophie’s dead.’
‘I’m sorry, my dear,’ Mr Doyle said.
The flames were spreading from the shattered lamps, jumping to the curtains and licking the ceiling.
‘Not another burning building,’ Jack said.
‘Looks like it,’ Scarlet said.
‘We need to get out of here,’ Phoebe Carfax said. ‘We can go out the back door.’
‘That won’t be safe,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘They’ll be expecting us.’
‘Then let’s try upstairs.’
Phoebe picked up one of the machine guns. Another hail of bullets reduced the front door to matchsticks, the chair fell away and silhouetted figures appeared. Phoebe opened fire.
Scarlet started, ‘This reminds me of a Brinkie book where—’
‘Not now, Scarlet,’ Jack said.
At the top of the stairs, Mr Doyle hesitated.
‘Where to now?’
‘I thought you were in charge,’ Phoebe said.
‘Isn’t there another way out?’
‘Same old Ignatius Doyle. Still as impulsive as ever.’
Jack and Scarlet exchanged glances. That didn’t sound like Mr Doyle at all.
Footsteps came from below. Mr Doyle herded Jack, Scarlet and Phoebe into the nearest room, locking the door as Phoebe headed towards a painting. Jack noticed for the first time that she dressed like a man, in brown trousers and a blue shirt.
What an incredible woman, he thought.
‘Now isn’t the time to admire the art,’ Mr Doyle said.
Something exploded downstairs. The fire must have really taken hold. The door handle turned, followed by a shot into the lock. Mr Doyle returned fire and somebody cried out on the other side.
Tilting the painting, Phoebe revealed a safe embedded in the wall. Unlocking it, she removed a shining brass cylinder.
‘Good heavens,’ Scarlet said.
‘The Broken Sun,’ Jack breathed.
‘Only part of it,’ Phoebe said with a quick smile. ‘But still one of the greatest finds ever to come out of the ancient world.’
Mr Doyle had been peering out the window. ‘Here’s our exit!’ he said. ‘Quickly!’
Phoebe, Jack and Scarlet followed him through a pair of French doors onto a small balcony. An awning hung below.
‘You can’t expect me to jump onto that,’ Phoebe said. ‘It’s not safe!’
‘And staying here with a gang of killers is?’ Mr Doyle lifted Phoebe into his arms. ‘Let’s go!’
He launched himself over the side.
Jack and Scarlet followed a moment later, bouncing off the awning and landing on a bulky mass.
Oof!
‘Well done!’ Mr Doyle cried.
They had landed on one of the criminals, knocking him out cold!
The house was now fully alight. They ran down the path to a steamcar with its engine running. Mr Doyle climbed behind the wheel, the others piling into the back. Jack and Scarlet quickly introduced themselves to Phoebe as they roared down the road. But she was hardly listening. She gave a small cry as she looked back at her burning home.
Mr Doyle glanced over his shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry about your house,’ he said.
‘I’m sure you’re not!’ she snapped. ‘And it isn’t the first time you’ve burnt down my home.’ She turned to Jack and Scarlet. ‘Does he do that a lot? Reduce buildings to ashes.’
‘It does happen a bit,’ Scarlet admitted.
Jack was more intrigued by Phoebe’s other comment. ‘When did Mr Doyle burn down your house?’
‘At least we’ve escaped,’ Mr Doyle interrupted.
‘Except for dear Sophie,’ Phoebe said, wiping away a tear. ‘She was a loyal employee and a friend.’
Jack looked out at the dark sky. He began to breathe a little easier. They just needed to get back to the Lion’s Mane. He caught a glimpse of the moon—a brilliant round globe in the sky—and then it was blotted out. Something slammed into the steamcar’s roof, almost knocking them off the road. Mr Doyle cursed, struggling for control.
A small airship had swiped the top of their vehicle. Jack watched in horror as it made a sharp turn and zoomed towards them once more.
‘Look out!’ he cried.
The airship slammed into their vehicle again. Mr Doyle swerved, fighting to steer it back to the centre of the moonlit road. He passed a machine gun back to Phoebe.
‘See if you can stop them,’ he yelled.
Phoebe pushed Jack aside, leaned out the window, braced the weapon against her shoulder and fired. The airship crashed into the roof of their car again.
‘The gondola is metal,’ she yelled. ‘I can’t penetrate it.’
‘Fire at the balloon!’ ordered Mr Doyle.
‘Is that safe?’ Scarlet asked.
Airship balloons were filled with hydrogen. Bullets might cause it to burst into flame, crash into their car and kill them all.
‘We’ll be fine,’ the detective said. ‘I think.’
Phoebe fired a few more rounds. The car was hit again, this time almost tipping over. Jack and Scarlet grabbed Phoebe around the waist to stop her from flying out. They dragged her inside.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘But we now have another problem.’
‘What’s that?’ Mr Doyle asked, zigzagging the steamcar about the road to avoid their attackers. ‘Is it another airship?’
‘I dropped the machine gun.’
‘What?’
‘No-one could have held on to it!’ she snapped. ‘I almost fell out of the car!’
‘This is no time for an argument,’ Jack said, glancing at Scarlet. He was beginning to understand why these two hadn’t spoken in years. ‘I think the airship’s—’
The steamcar was hit again, but this time Mr Doyle couldn’t keep them on the road. The car shot across a rocky, uneven field. A grappling hook speared through the rear passenger window, sending glass everywhere as it sunk into the roof like a hook catching a fish. It had come from the airship. The car began to tilt off the ground.
Jack cried out as he crashed into Scarlet.
They’re trying to upend us.
‘Get ready to jump!’ Mr Doyle yelled.
‘What?’ Phoebe cried. ‘From a moving vehicle?’
‘They’ll have us in a second!’
‘But…but…’
‘Get ready to jump and roll!’
‘Look!’ Scarlet cried.
The shimmering sea lay ahead. Mr Doyle was driving them directly towards a cliff. ‘Almost there!’ he yelled. ‘And now…jump!’
Phoebe pushed the door open and leapt with a curse. Scarlet disappeared through the opposite door. Jack followed, hitting the ground hard, but rolling as his parents had taught him in the circus. He caught sight of Mr Doyle making a similar exit.
The car flew off the cliff, the spear still attached, and plummeted towards the sea, dragging the airship down with it.
‘Run!’ Mr Doyle yelled.
The rear end of the airship slammed into the cliff face, missing them by inches. There was a large tearing sound as it flipped over the side and crashed into the rocks below.
Wa-oophf!
The hydrogen ignited, turning night into day.
Jack shielded his eyes, joining the others as they carefully made their way back to the edge. The heat was immense as the hydrogen burned away. The rocky shore lay fifty feet below. What remained of the airship was broken and smouldering, the ribs of the balloon like the bones of a beached whale. The steamcar had also torn apart and was now fully ablaze.
Phoebe Carfax started down the slope.
‘My dear,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘What are you doing?’
‘What does it look like?’ She cast him an exasperated glance. ‘The other pieces of the Broken Sun may be aboard the airship.’
Mr Doyle sighed, turning to Jack and Scarlet.
‘She may need some assistance,’ Scarlet said.
‘Phoebe has always been able to look after herself,’ Ignatius Doyle said. ‘Still, there may be some clues to be found.’
After ordering Jack and Scarlet to stay on the cliff, Mr Doyle and Phoebe examined the remains of the car. They disappeared into the shattered compartment of the airship’s gondola, emerging a few minutes later with a bag. They scrambled up the slope.
Phoebe’s face was aglow with excitement. ‘We have them,’
she said breathlessly. ‘The other pieces of the Broken Sun. With these we will find New Atlantis!’
Mr Doyle was less excited. ‘We still don’t know who owned the airship. No-one on board survived the crash. And the men carried no identification. We are indeed lucky that the bag containing the artefact was not destroyed in the crash.’
‘Imagine that,’ Scarlet said. ‘Atlantis.’
‘New Atlantis,’ Jack corrected her.
‘And still a myth until I see evidence,’ Mr Doyle said.
‘Which I hope to provide,’ Phoebe said. ‘Once we sit down to properly examine the artefact.’
‘I suggest returning to my residence in London,’ Mr Doyle said to Phoebe. ‘I doubt anywhere in Greece would be safe right now.’
‘I’m not sure we’re safe anywhere at all,’ Phoebe said. ‘But your place is as good as any.’
They walked back to the village where the locals had been roused by the airship’s explosion. One of the shop owners promised Phoebe that the authorities would be summoned and a decent burial arranged for Sophie.
After boarding the Lion’s Mane, Jack stoked the engine, asking Mr Doyle if he had discovered anything else aboard the wrecked airship or car.
‘Surprisingly little,’ the detective admitted. ‘The men were well built and heavily tattooed. I suspect they were mercenaries.’
‘There was nothing to indicate the owner of the car, either,’ Phoebe said.
‘Their employer must be rich,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘And have international connections. Not everyone could afford such an operation—or know whom to hire.’
‘There was a boat in the harbour when we arrived,’ Scarlet said.
‘It wasn’t there when we left. I suspect they took off when they realised their plans had gone awry.’
Jack turned to Phoebe. ‘Do you know anyone who would kill to find New Atlantis?’
