The Broken Sun

by Darrell Pitt

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that, sir,’ Jack said. ‘It must have been very hard for you.’

  ‘I was shell shocked from the war and I spent time in a soldier’s hospital. Arriving home, I tried speaking to Amelia, but she blamed me for Phillip’s death. I sank into a despair that lasted months.’

  Jack found it hard to believe that such an exuberant man as Mr Doyle could be affected by such unhappiness.

  ‘What finally brought you out of it?’ Scarlet asked. ‘How did you—’

  ‘Come back to life? A woman approached me because her brother had been murdered. After hearing her story, I realised her life was also in danger. I tracked down the killer and was able to stop a further tragedy.’

  ‘So helping someone else also helped you.’

  ‘Precisely. I often think we do not exist for ourselves, but for each other.’ Tears pricked the corners of Mr Doyle’s eyes. ‘The woman I helped was Gloria.’

  No-one said anything for a moment. Jack knew Gloria was more than a receptionist to Mr Doyle. She cared for him like a mother. Now Jack began to appreciate how much Gloria must mean to him. Her presence had literally saved his life.

  Phoebe arrived, dressed again in her trousers and a shirt. Jack wasn’t sure he would ever get used to it.

  ‘We’re due to arrive in Morocco soon,’ she said. ‘The Captain intends to stock up on our supplies.’

  ‘Hasn’t he already done that?’ Mr Doyle said. ‘The hold seems full.’

  ‘It’s just a precaution. We don’t know how long we’ll be away.’

  Jack could tell that Mr Doyle was keen to keep moving. Every moment wasted meant that Gloria and Professor Clarke’s condition would continue to deteriorate.

  ‘And we have an additional mystery,’ Phoebe went on. ‘It seems there is a thief on board. Last night Sandra, the cook, discovered food missing. She saw someone running away down the passageway. She gave chase, but they escaped.’

  ‘Interesting,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘We will investigate. It will keep our mental muscles limber.’

  Mr Doyle thanked Phoebe, and they all went to find Sandra in the kitchen preparing vegetables.

  ‘He was small,’ Sandra told them, describing the thief. ‘It was very dark so I didn’t get a good look at him. He was headed towards the stern.’

  Mr Doyle nodded thoughtfully. ‘Have you worked for Mr Bradstreet long?’

  ‘This is my first voyage,’ the woman said. ‘But I’ve been a cook for several years.’

  They approached Tobias Bradstreet next, who confessed to being equally puzzled by the incident. Most of the crew had worked for him for years. They had no reason to steal food: the rations were generous.

  ‘All this reminds me of a Brinkie Buckeridge story,’ Scarlet said when they returned to Mr Doyle and Jack’s cabin.

  ‘Doesn’t everything?’ Jack asked.

  She glared at him. ‘Brinkie’s adventures are so true to life it’s inevitable we should come across similar situations ourselves. Anyway, Brinkie was on a ship heading to Brazil to visit a cousin.’

  ‘The cannibal cousin?’

  ‘No. Another cousin. Abernathy.’

  ‘This one has never eaten human flesh?’

  ‘What’s this fixation you have with cannibalism?’

  ‘I’m just checking.’

  ‘Food was being stolen on board the ship. The captain was ruthless, making his crew walk the plank as he tried to determine the identity of the secret eater. Finally there remained only the captain and Abernathy.’

  ‘Bazookas.’

  ‘You’ll never guess who it turned out to be,’ Scarlet said smugly.

  ‘Allow me,’ Mr Doyle intervened. ‘There was a stowaway.’

  Scarlet looked at him in amazement. ‘Have you read the book?’ she asked. ‘I know you’re a purveyor of fine literature.’

  ‘I haven’t read that particular volume, but it seemed likely that once all the other possibilities were eliminated—the other crew members, that is—then what remained was most likely.’

  Mr Doyle removed an odd-looking rock from his pocket and, dusting it off, decided it was a lump of cheese. Popping it into his mouth, he said, ‘We must remain alert. A stowaway could damage the engines, or the balloon, or some other vital piece of equipment. They could even bring about the destruction of this airship.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  A few days later they reached Rabat, a city on the coast of Morocco. Much of the trade conducted on the continent passed through here on its way to Europe. Mr Doyle decided to stay aboard the Explorer, so Phoebe offered to take Jack and Scarlet around the city while the airship was restocked.

  The sea was a blanket of sparkling diamonds and the air warm, filled with competing scents of curries, spices and flavoured tobacco. The streets were narrow and Phoebe was careful to keep away from dark alleys. Jack was nervous about wandering around the foreign city—it felt like visiting another planet—but fear soon turned to fascination. Most buildings were constructed from adobe, painted blue and ivory. Others were stone.

  One of the most interesting parts of the city was the Hassan Tower, an enormous square edifice dominating the landscape and surrounded by hundreds of columns.

  Phoebe briefly explained its history. ‘The tower is the minaret of a mosque. Construction began in the twelfth century, but it was never finished.’ She pointed at the columns. ‘They were also part of the mosque. It would have been one of the wonders of the world, if completed.’

  ‘I had no idea anything like this existed,’ Jack said.

  ‘Europeans often forget the accomplishments of cultures different to our own.’

  Late in the day, they wandered through the market. Awnings of crimson, yellow and blue hung over the alleys, protecting the streets from the hot afternoon sun. The clamour was overwhelming, disconcerting—and intoxicating. Hundreds of stallholders, many with wares Jack had never seen, tried to catch the attention of visitors. They sold water pipes for smoking, herbs, brightly coloured fabrics, jewellery and religious paraphernalia. Stallholders cooked food on hotplates over small fires, filling the air with the smells of curry, turmeric and chilli.

  They spotted a familiar face among the crowd.

  ‘There’s Reg Smythe,’ Jack said.

  ‘Hello passengers,’ he said, smiling as they pushed through the bustle. ‘You’ve been allowed out for the day.’

  ‘As have you,’ Phoebe said.

  ‘Please join me for coffee.’

  They followed Smythe into a tiny café adjoining the marketplace and found a table at a window where they could watch the passing traffic. Men sat about, smoking from water pipes, the smell of aromatic tobacco filling the air.

  Smythe ordered coffee for himself and Phoebe, and hot chocolates for Jack and Scarlet.

  When their drinks arrived, Jack took a cautious sip. His eyes popped. It tasted heavenly.

  ‘You must tell us about your previous adventures,’ Phoebe said to Smythe.

  He waved a hand. ‘There’s little to tell,’ he said. ‘And none of it would compare to you
r own. You’ve been to Egypt, I understand.’

  Phoebe spoke about her experiences. ‘Camels are a wonderful form of transport,’ she said, ‘but they take some getting used to.’

  ‘In what way?’ Jack asked.

  ‘You need to sit back when the camel stands up or sits down. The first time I climbed onto one, I fell off and landed on my head!’

  ‘The pyramids and the Sphinx must be quite incredible,’ Smythe said.

  Phoebe nodded. ‘There has been quite a bit of conjecture about how they were built. Scientists believe ancient people were quite advanced when it came to engineering. Others suggest more outrageous theories.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Oh, visitors from other worlds.’

  ‘What?’ Jack said, astonished.

  Reg Smythe sat up. ‘I’ve seen many ancient temples,’ he said. ‘You do wonder how they built them using such old techniques.’

  ‘Which ones have you seen?’ Phoebe asked.

  Smythe laughed. ‘Too many to list.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’d better keep moving. I promised the captain I’d pick up a few supplies.’ He paid for their drinks and headed off.

  ‘I suppose we’d better do the same,’ Phoebe said. ‘I promised Ignatius I’d buy him some cheese.’

  On the way to a cheese merchant in the middle of the market, they stopped to watch a snake charmer who had members of the crowd transfixed as a cobra moved about hypnotically on a mat.

  ‘Your friend, Mr Beethoven, would enjoy this,’ Jack said to Scarlet. ‘It sounds like his music.’

  ‘His music is nothing like this,’ Scarlet said. ‘And you must develop an appreciation for the finer arts.’

  ‘I do like music,’ Jack said. ‘Just not classical.’

  Phoebe completed her purchase. ‘There’s a new style of music called jazz that’s becoming very popular in the United States,’ she said, smiling at Jack. ‘It has a beat you can tap your foot to and songs you can sing.’

  ‘I’ll keep an eye, er, ear out for it.’

  They eventually made their way back to the Explorer.

  ‘I’ve kept tabs on Ignatius over the years,’ Phoebe said to them. ‘I’ve been most impressed by his career.’

  ‘You’ve never been married?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Jack! Are you proposing?’

  Jack turned so red that Scarlet almost fell over laughing.

  The archaeologist continued more seriously. ‘No,’ she said. ‘My only near-miss was with Ignatius. My whole life has been one of exploration. I’ve never had time for families. I would have loved to have children, but there was always too much to do. Besides,’ she added. ‘You never forget your first love.’

  When night fell the great engines of the Explorer roared back to life. Smoke billowed from the rear of the vessel as the airship left the coast behind.

  Jack and Scarlet went out onto the deck to watch Rabat shrink into the distance.

  ‘It must be fantastic,’ Jack said. ‘To spend your life exploring new places.’

  ‘What do you think will happen to Mr Doyle when all this is over?’ Scarlet asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s just that he and Phoebe seem to be getting on very well.’

  ‘They are old friends,’ Jack said, staring at Scarlet. ‘What are you trying to say?’

  ‘I’m saying they seem to be getting along really well.’

  ‘Have you been eating too much beef jerky? Are you saying they might get married?’

  ‘Stranger things have happened.’

  Jack returned with Scarlet to his cabin to find Mr Doyle lying across the bed, hands behind his head, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. More food had been found missing from the kitchen, he told them. He had made up his mind to nab the thief that night.

  ‘How will you do that?’ Scarlet asked.

  ‘I intend to use a very large mousetrap,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘To which I will attach a massive piece of cheese. When they attempt to take the food, a huge arm will fly down, pinning them helplessly to the floor.’

  Jack and Scarlet stared at him.

  ‘Just a little joke,’ he said. ‘I assume you’re familiar with the story of Hansel and Gretel?’

  ‘The kids in the forest?’ Jack said.

  ‘And the witch and breadcrumbs,’ Scarlet added.

  ‘There is much to be learnt from children’s stories.’

  With that enigmatic comment, the detective said no more.

  Eating dinner with Phoebe and the others in the galley, Jack found himself peering more closely at the motley group. There were many he had not met. Could one of them be the thief? Or was there really a stowaway?

  After the meal, Scarlet joined Jack and Mr Doyle in their cabin. The detective planned to hunt down the thief in the dead of night. Phoebe was invited too, but declined, with her usual dry wit, saying she was busy doing her nails. Jack and Scarlet settled into armchairs to sleep for a few hours. When Jack awoke next, the detective had made them all hot chocolate.

  ‘Come, you two,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘It’s time to follow the breadcrumbs.’

  Breadcrumbs?

  ‘If you say so,’ Jack said.

  Mr Doyle lit a kerosene lamp and they followed him to the galley where they found the door ajar. In the kitchen, the pantry door was also open.

  ‘Good,’ the detective said. ‘Our visitor has taken the bait.’

  ‘I must confess to being a little lost,’ Scarlet said.

  ‘Surely you remember the fairytale?’ Mr Doyle said. ‘A trail of breadcrumbs led the children back to safety after they fell into the clutches of the evil witch.’ He waved the lamp over the floor, revealing a crystalline substance glittering in the pale light. ‘We’re using sugar.’

  ‘How—’

  ‘I arranged with Sandra to leave a box of goods outside the kitchen. A tear in the box is leaving a trail.’

  They followed the glimmering path down several flights of stairs. They passed a crewman who glanced at them curiously. Mr Doyle gave him a friendly smile without speaking. After several minutes they reached a door at the top of a metal staircase leading into the cargo hold, a gloomy room filled with boxes of supplies, a steam-powered submarine and something that looked like a tank.

  ‘It appears Mr Bradstreet is well equipped.’

  They headed towards a pile of boxes in a corner. Mr Doyle waved the lantern about, making the shadows dance and dive like ghosts.

  ‘Please show yourself,’ he called. ‘We mean you no harm.’

  Silence.

  ‘If you do not show yourself,’ Mr Doyle continued, ‘I will be forced to call the captain, who will confine you to the brig. I understand it is full of cockroaches.’ He paused. ‘And spiders.’

  One of the shadows broke away and a girl emerged into the dull light. Pushing back her long hair, she revealed a dirty face, small eyes and broad lips. She was about fifteen.

  Blimey, thought Jack.

 
‘Who are you?’ she demanded. ‘You have no right to ask me questions!’ Despite her appearance, she was well spoken.

  ‘I believe we have every right,’ Mr Doyle responded. ‘Can you tell us why you’re here?’

  The girl glared at them defiantly.

  ‘I believe I can guess.’ Mr Doyle turned to Jack and Scarlet. ‘Does this young lady remind you of anyone?’

  Jack started to shake his head. Then he looked a little harder at the girl, who simply glared back. Under the dirt, her face was actually quite pretty. And something about her eyes…

  ‘Professor Clarke!’ he said.

  ‘He’s my grandfather!’ The girl clenched her fists, as if ready to attack them with her bare hands. ‘You’re responsible for putting him in hospital!’

  ‘We did no such thing,’ Mr Doyle said. He introduced everyone. ‘We are involved in an investigation to discover what happened to your grandfather—and why.’

  ‘You’re lying,’ the girl cried. ‘You’re going to be sorry for what you’ve done! He’s in a coma…and…and…’

  She looked ready to burst into tears.

  ‘Mr Doyle is telling the truth,’ Scarlet said gently. ‘We are trying to find a cure for your grandfather as well as a friend of ours who was also attacked.’

  She explained the chain of events, leaving out the details about Mr Doyle’s son.

  ‘Come with us,’ Scarlet said, ‘and we’ll explain everything.’

  The girl’s face was smeared with dirty tears. ‘You want to put me in jail,’ she said. ‘Or throw me off the ship.’

  ‘We could have half the crew down here in minutes if we wanted to arrest you,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘But I think it’s illegal to throw people off airships.’

  The girl sighed, sagging against the stack of boxes. ‘I’ll come with you,’ she said, ‘but you’d better not try anything.’