by Darrell Pitt
‘Right.’
‘Interestingly, the brain can’t tell the difference between real laughter and false laughter.’
‘Uh, okay.’
‘So when you laugh in a simulated manner, your brain and body still get the same benefits.’
‘So people just stand around at this club and laugh at each other.’
‘That’s right.’
‘I hate to say it, but that actually makes some strange kind of sense. And the business about the banana?’
‘Oh, they’re just naturally funny.’
They arrived at a library in Brixton. At the other end of the building was a meeting room filled with women of all ages, and from all parts of society.
Some were wealthily attired, with woollen suits and shirtwaist blouses, but several obviously worked as maids or governesses, wearing plain day dresses or skirts.
‘It’s unusual to see women together like this,’ Mr Doyle murmured.
‘The struggle for women’s rights is breaking down the class barriers too,’ Scarlet said.
The only other man in the room was Warren Dudley. The skinny pharmacist arrowed over to them.
‘Thank you for coming,’ he said. ‘Edwina has been most upset by the latest turn of events.’
‘What’s happened?’ Mr Doyle asked.
‘The police have threatened to arrest a number of hunger strikers today,’ he said. ‘It’s part of the Cat and Mouse Act.’
This was news to Jack. There were hunger strikers? And what was the Cat and Mouse Act?
Mr Dudley explained. ‘A common form of protest is to go on a hunger strike while in prison. The government doesn’t want them dying of starvation,’ he said. ‘That would turn them into martyrs. So if they become ill, they are released. Once their strength has recovered, however, they are re-arrested and returned to prison.’
‘That’s terrible,’ Jack said.
‘It’s worse than that,’ Scarlet said. ‘The women in prison are often force-fed. Rubber tubes are rammed down their throats and into their stomachs to force them to take nourishment. Sometimes the procedure goes wrong and they are injured.’
Mrs Dudley came over and greeted them. She pointed to half-a-dozen pale women sitting in chairs at the front.
‘They were released three weeks ago,’ she said. ‘We believe the police will be here to return them to jail. This is a violence that no civilised society should stand for.’
Mr Doyle looked uncomfortable. ‘I agreed to speak today to assure your organisation that I was investigating the Valkyrie Circle,’ he said. ‘I didn’t intend to become part of a protest.’
‘You will not. We are seeking peaceful change.’
‘Yet some suffragettes have caused violence themselves,’ Mr Doyle said tactfully. ‘Even before the Valkyrie Circle, churches were attacked, window-breaking campaigns were carried out, and women chained themselves to the gates of Buckingham Palace.’
‘We must all protest in our own way,’ Mrs Dudley said. Her husband steered Jack and the others to the front, in order to get the meeting underway.
‘Edwina’s a terrific speaker,’ he told them.
‘It’s wonderful that you’re so supportive of your wife,’ Scarlet said.
‘How could I not be? The battle for women’s rights is everyone’s fight.’
As he had to attend another meeting, Mr Dudley wished them well and excused himself. After calling the meeting to order, Mrs Dudley began by deriding the Valkyrie Circle.
‘This organisation has brought the entire women’s rights movement into disrepute,’ she said. ‘The government is talking about making the Primrose Society, and a dozen other organisations, illegal. Everyone here could be arrested, our lands and possessions seized, and we could be held indefinitely without charge.’
The audience murmured angrily.
‘We have even received notice that some of our members will again be arrested today,’ Mrs Dudley continued, shaking her fist. ‘This is torture! Our sisters will be force-fed, jailed and victimised for their beliefs!’
Some of the audience began shouting. Jack glanced towards them. One woman, he saw, looked quite ill. They are so brave. They would sacrifice their lives to have the same rights as men.
As Mrs Dudley continued, Jack noticed something under his chair. A hatbox. Frowning, he leant down to examine it. One of the women must have left it there, he thought.
Carefully lifting the lid, Jack froze. He was no expert on bombs, but there was no mistaking the device in the box. Six pieces of dynamite were attached to a set of scales and a timer. The bottom of the box was wedged under the chair.
‘Scarlet,’ he whispered. ‘Help.’
She leant close. ‘In a minute,’ she said. ‘I really want to hear what Mrs Dudley has to say about The Cat and Mouse Act.’
Jack hit her leg. ‘I need help,’ he said. ‘Now!’
She glanced down—and yelled. Within seconds, Mr Doyle had begun clearing the room. As he did, he told Jack to remain still as he examined the package.
A group of police constables charged through the door.
‘What’s going on here?’ one asked, his name badge identifying him as Constable Cosby. ‘We’ve come here to arrest—’
‘Forget your arrests!’ Mr Doyle snapped. ‘There’s a bomb under this seat.’
Cosby blanched. ‘A bomb,’ he said. ‘You mean those—’
‘The Valkyrie Circle would appear to be the logical culprits,’ Mr Doyle confirmed. ‘Evacuate the area. I will try to defuse the device.’
The constable raced away, yelling orders.
‘Can’t we just go?’ Jack asked. Mr Doyle had kept a firm hold on him the whole time. ‘Surely if it’s on a timer—’
‘That’s the problem,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘This bomb has both a timer and a depression trigger. You activated it by sitting down. Releasing your weight will activate the timer, but we have no way of knowing if we have seconds or hours before it explodes.’
Jack swallowed. It can’t end like this, he thought. Blown into a million pieces.
‘Scarlet,’ he said, trying to stay motionless. ‘You should go.’
‘Jack’s right,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘There’s no need for you to remain.’
‘I never abandon my friends,’ Scarlet said, firmly.
Mr Doyle peered at the device. ‘I need something to wedge against one end of the scales,’ he said. ‘Something long and thin. It doesn’t need to be heavy.’
Scarlet searched her handbag. ‘How about a pencil?’ she asked.
‘Perfect.’
Reaching into the box, he jammed it into place. ‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘I think it’s safe to stand.’
Jack felt faint as they led him from the hall. Moments later they were outside on the street.
Mrs Dudley came charging over. ‘Who would do such a thing?’ she asked. ‘Are the Valkyrie Circle now targeting other suffragette organisations?’
‘I don’t know,’ Mr Doyle admitted, wiping sweat fr
om his brow. ‘I must confess to being completely baffled.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Back at Bee Street, Jack asked Mr Doyle again about the bomb.
‘We know the Valkyrie Circle wants to create mayhem,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘My guess would be that they knew the bombing of another suffragette organisation would cause even more protests.’
‘As I’ve always maintained,’ Scarlet said, ‘the Valkyrie Circle has nothing in common with legitimate suffrage societies.’
Gloria entered with a note for Mr Doyle. Looking at it, he frowned. ‘That’s odd,’ he said. ‘This is from Greystoke at Scotland Yard. He’s enquiring as to whether we’ve discovered anything new.’
‘Why is that strange?’
Mr Doyle became thoughtful. ‘The message we received in Spain was from Greystoke,’ he said. ‘It’s almost as if he’s unaware of—’
The sound of feet came from the hallway outside. The door was thrown open and a dozen uniformed men stormed in. A bald man led them, dressed in civilian clothing.
‘What’s going on?’ Mr Doyle asked.
‘Are you Ignatius Doyle?’ the man asked.
‘I am.’
‘No doubt you’ve heard of me. I am Detective Inspector James Wolf. I have a warrant to search your premises.’
‘What?’ Mr Doyle said, astounded. ‘For what reason?’
‘That’s none of your concern.’
The officers with him wore the uniform of the Wolf Pack: blue suits with silver shoulder pads, holstered guns at their sides. Wolf directed them to check each of the bedrooms, especially under the beds.
Gloria was furious, but Mr Doyle shushed her.
‘Has anyone been here during our absence?’ he whispered.
‘No-one,’ she replied, then frowned. ‘There was a problem with the gas. A man came and fixed it.’
‘I’m sure he did,’ Mr Doyle said grimly. ‘It seems we have numerous enemies railed against us.’
One of the officers returned. ‘It’s just as we were told, sir,’ he said. ‘There are bomb-making parts under all the beds.’
‘What?’ Gloria shouted. ‘That’s ridiculous!’
Wolf sneered. ‘Sure it is,’ he said. ‘You may have Greystoke fooled, but the evidence speaks for itself. You’re all members of this Valkyrie Circle—and you’ll hang for your crimes!’ He pointed at them. ‘Arrest the lot of them!’
The officers pulled out cuffs, jamming them on Mr Doyle and Gloria’s wrists. ‘The children, too,’ Wolf said. ‘Guilt is guilt, no matter the age.’
Jack had thrust his hands into his pockets. Now he felt something cold and limp in one. With a certain grim satisfaction, he realised what it was.
‘Certainly, officer,’ he said. ‘Let’s all go down to the—aaaarrgghh!’ His scream was accompanied by the removal of the dead snake from his pocket. He waved it wildly in the air. ‘Snake! Snake!’
He threw it into the officer’s outstretched hands. The man screamed and tossed it into the air.
‘Run!’ Jack yelled.
He and Scarlet bolted through the door as officers pulled their guns and fired at the dead snake. Mr Doyle and Gloria were wrestled to the ground.
As Scarlet reached the elevator, Jack grabbed her arm, pointing her to the stairs.
‘This way,’ he said.
‘Jack,’ Scarlet started. ‘Are you sure—’
Pushing her towards the stairs, Jack remembered the first time he had raced down them. It was the day he met Mr Doyle. In that time he had come to admire the detective as much as his own parents. There was no chance he was involved with the Valkyrie Circle. Which could only mean one thing.
‘Those bomb parts were planted,’ Jack puffed. ‘It’s the only explanation.’
‘But where did that snake come from?’
‘Where do you think? It was the one that bit you in Spain.’
‘You’ve had it in your pocket all that time?’
Reaching ground level, Jack and Scarlet leapt over the old drunk who always lay on the bottom step. His name was Charlie, but that was all they knew about him. He waved a half-empty bottle of beer at them as they passed.
‘What about Gloria and Mr Doyle?’ Scarlet asked.
‘We can’t do anything about them yet.’
Two police officers entered the front foyer. Jack and Scarlet sped past them just as the elevator doors open.
‘Get them!’ Wolf yelled. ‘I want them caught!’
The shrill cry of police whistles followed Jack and Scarlet down the street.
They darted down a side lane. A police officer, walking on the other side, heard the whistles, and stared at them suspiciously.
‘You two!’ he yelled. ‘Stay where you are!’
‘No chance,’ Jack muttered.
The officer gave chase. Jack and Scarlet darted around an old man carrying a pile of books as he made a grab for them. He missed and books went everywhere.
‘Where are we going?’ Scarlet puffed. ‘The police will have the area shut down in minutes.’
‘We’re only a block away from Baker Street Station,’ Jack said. ‘We’ll take a train.’ He glanced back to the Wolf Pack and other policemen in pursuit. ‘We’d better put on some speed.’
‘Easy for you to say!’ Scarlet grumbled. ‘Try running in a dress!’
They reached the domed station and headed down the stairs to an underground platform. There was no time to read the boards—or buy tickets. Jack vaulted a ticket barrier, dragging Scarlet over with him.
‘Stop!’ an officer yelled. ‘Stop or we’ll shoot!’
They barrelled down the rest of the stairs just as a train pulled in. People were everywhere. Officers converged from both ends of the platform.
‘Should we get on?’ Scarlet asked.
‘Wait,’ Jack ordered. Their pursuers were delaying to see what they would do. The train doors started to close. ‘Now!’
He pulled Scarlet onto the train just before the doors shut.
Blast! It looked like some of the Wolf Pack had boarded at the last moment too.
‘Maybe we should give up,’ Scarlet said. ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’
‘You mean apart from spending the rest of our lives in jail?’ he said. It could take weeks, months or years to prove their innocence. ‘We need to track down the Valkyrie Circle ourselves and clear our names.’
‘Without Mr Doyle?’ Scarlet looked at him as if he’d gone mad. ‘How on earth will we do that?’
‘I don’t know, but first we need to get off this train.’ The officers might be converging from both ends, catching them like rats in a drainpipe. ‘You go that way. I’ll check the other direction.’
Trotting down the length of the carriage, Jack saw no-one. Crossing the open walkway, he moved into the next carriage. Police were entering at the far end! One of them pointed towards him.
Jack hurried back across the walkway, pulling some string from his pocket to tie the door handle s
hut.
The string won’t last long, but it might give us a minute or two.
He raced back in the other direction—and collided with Scarlet.
‘They’re coming!’ she shrieked. ‘They’re only a carriage behind me.’
They were standing at one of the steam-powered exit doors. Jack peered through the window. Soon they would be crossing the Thames. Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out a variety of items: lock pick, disguise kit, pencils, paper.
Yes!
A metal ruler.
‘What is that for?’ Scarlet asked.
‘You’ll see.’
Jack pulled the train exit door open. It resisted—the steam pump was designed to keep it shut for safety reasons—but it was old. With some effort, he had it open, allowing a whirlwind of air into the carriage. An old lady turned in her seat with astonishment.
‘Just getting some air!’ he called.
She waved an umbrella at him and shouted something rude.
‘You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking,’ Scarlet said. ‘Are you?’
‘Probably.’
The train slowed as they approached a bridge. There was a flash of brown water.
‘Oh dear,’ Scarlet said, looking ill. ‘I don’t know about this, Jack.’
‘We’ll need a run up,’ he said. ‘But we can do it.’
The door at the end of the carriage burst open and two policemen appeared. One of them raised his gun. ‘Give up!’ he commanded. ‘There’s nowhere to go!’
‘Follow me,’ Jack told Scarlet. Taking a deep breath, he took a short run up and leapt from the train. His fall through the air seemed to take forever. Then he hit the water with a splash, submerged and flailed back up to the surface. Scarlet appeared next to him a moment later.
‘I think we’re safe,’ she said.
The train had just disappeared over the far end of the bridge. Inspector Wolf’s head was stuck out the carriage door, his face filled with fury.
