I strained forward, since finally the subject had come round to what I had supposedly been summoned to hear.
"Look here, you two." Doctor Mac picked out from his medical bag a pipe and a tobacco pouch. Before I could stop myself my greatly overtaxed brain finally pushed a memory to the surface and I vaulted up.
"The rosewood and amber pipe!" I shouted. Everyone turned to stare at me. Doctor Mac burst out laughing.
"The tobacconist!" he responded. "This is your mysterious Prince Florizel, Phoebe-Bird? He fixed my pipe right handily, and he's quite ignorant about world-famous chanteuses and their longsuffering lyricists, so I like him just fine, but what makes you think he can fight evil?"
Everyone laughed at that and I sat down, scarlet-faced. The good doctor found he couldn't manage his pipe with his grumpy puppet bandage. Glad of a distraction from my self-inflicted humiliation, I quickly filled the pipe and lit it for him.
"We'll get to the Tobacconist of Bohemia issue shortly. For now, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, you're approaching the foundation." Doctor Mac drew and puffed and set the pipe into that crooked tooth of his. "That means you have to have a clear and concrete proposal. Fighting evil's a noble but mighty vague concept."
"Right, right," Mr. Campbell nodded. "Of course, we're muddling this. We had everything all set up in a tidy presentation. It's only that we just located Florizel, and what happened to you two tonight underscored the problem and the solution so clearly."
"You encountered a thief," Mrs. Moore-Campbell said. "He tried to steal from you, and when you resisted him, he tried to harm you. You chased him, tried to subdue him, but he attacked you."
"He might possibly have killed you, since you were so persistent," Mr. Campbell said soberly.
"I didn't expect that," Doctor Mac admitted. "It griped me that the little snake tried it and I wanted to teach him a lesson. I never heard of a pickpocket who would kill his mark."
"We have," Mrs. Moore Campbell said. "Long before we arrived in London. I don't know if the constable was honest with you ...? "
"He wasn't," Mr. Campbell said grimly. "You see we didn't get the boy back. I pray it's not kidding ourselves to hope we still will."
"What happened with the constable?" Mrs. Campbell asked.
Doctor Mac related the tale.
The constable, a rather short, bowlegged fellow with thick black sideburns, stood at tireless attention, dripping on the black and burgundy oriental hall rug with his back against the burgundy and gold flocked wallpaper of the circular hall. His helmet was pulled low over his eyes and his dark, bronze-buttoned coat collars were tucked up tight. Just the bare edges of bronze goggles glinted beneath the helmet.
Thick side-whiskers already obscured his face and he stood directly under the gas lamp, throwing his face into a deep shadow that made it impossible to guess what he looked like. He grasped firmly by the collar a small street urchin in ragged tweeds that seemed once to have been green. The cap looked even larger, overshadowing the boy's face in the harsh hall gaslights.
"Can the gentleman identify the attacker?" The boy twisted aside and tried to avoid my gaze. The constable pinned him against the wall by grabbing his jaw and wrestled with the boy's right hand, knocking the cap to the floor and exposing wild, matted dark hair and a gaunt little face.
"Easy there, officer." The man's apparently callous brutality startled me. Archie nudged me and pointed out that the man had just extricated a small blade from the boy's hand, still stained with what I took to be my own blood.
"It's 'constable,' sir." The policeman straightened again while still restraining the boy. I confined myself to studying the pale, drawn, mud-streaked face of the boy in the constable's grip.
"Yes, that's him. I remember that venomous little face leering up at me. Pickpockets don't usually try to spear their targets, do they?"
"Property missing?" The constable ignored the question.
"Well, I have my watch back." I showed it to the constable. The pickpocket dropped his jaw at the sight of it.
"Oy tol' yew!" shrieked the boy. "It were 'at cove wot 'ad nuffink on. 'E pinched it, not me. Oy'm walkin' about an' moindin' me own business when this yere toff –" he indicated me "-- whips 'is stick 'tween me legs an' upends me in the dustbins. Then Oy sees – Oy sees a thing loik a big black dog on'y crouchin'-like an' wit green oiys. Then this other cove wit 'air everywhere an' nuffink on gets a'tween us an' Oy gets the blame for pinchin' wot Oy nivver pinched!"
"Enough nonsense, me lad." The constable shook the boy roughly.
"What makes you carry a knife, son?" I asked the pickpocket.
"Gerrout. T' save me 'ide from perishin' big dogs an' coves wit nuffink on wot attacks a chap, that's wot."
Archie prompted me with another prod from his elbow. "Constable, since I've got my watch back and there's no serious harm done, do you suppose the boy could be released?" I asked belatedly.
"Complaint has been recorded. Have to take him in and process him, sir."
"Right," Archie persisted. "But could we stop by the station later and perhaps see him?"
"No law forbids it." The constable marched the boy off.
"First of all," Madame Moore-Campbell began again, "I had originally meant to stay at home and just be a wife and mother, never to pursue my singing career any further, after I married Archie."
"Always thought that was a stupid idea," Doctor Mac snorted. "Talent like yours should be used for the Lord. The opportunity to travel, to be a blessing and an influence for Christ was too good to miss, no matter that you got all the hackles up again on the Aunt Hill when you decided to tour."
"It started out to be just for the reason you said." Madame Moore-Campbell blushed. "We just wanted to honor the Lord. Archie's business training with his father made him a perfect manager and we were also able to hold revivals and evangelistic meetings, as you know. We spread Rose's foundation works to other places and set up schools and churches to disciple those we were able to minister to along the way.
"But as we traveled we could not help seeing the criminal activity. We began to notice a new and frightening pattern. The kind of thing that happened to you has been happening a lot lately.
"Pickpockets have become aggressive, violent, and actually murderous. It's happening in any number of cities here in England and across the British Empire"
"The authorities don't believe that these are connected gangs under a single leader," Mr. Campbell said. "We've stuck our noses in despite opposition from every possible government agency. Our contacts believe that there is a central organizer, and that he resides in London."
"Organized pickpockets?" Doctor Mac scoffed. "Why on earth would anyone do such a thing? I mean, sure, small lots, one fellow controlling the boys and fencing the profits, I've heard of that. But how can the profits from handkerchiefs and watches support an international organization?"
"It's far beyond watches and handkerchiefs," Madame Moore-Campbell informed him. "So-called ordinary pickpockets are stealing government documents. Negotiable bonds go missing and are cashed out. Engineering plans and vital business documents are being held for extortive sums or sold to competitors – "
"Well, this makes our experience pale by comparison," Doctor Mac said.
"But it fits the pattern," Mr. Campbell insisted. "And it's 'way beyond just pickpockets. We believe prostitutes, housebreakers and drug traffickers are also being organized. We think this organization gets very young children and starts them out with small jobs. They graduate to bigger things and get sent all around the world. What connects them is that they are all drilled in a common system protocol – respond with violence and kill if necessary to keep free and prevent identification."
"Then our chap failed miserably," Doctor Mac commented.
"Right," Mr. Campbell nodded. "But I don't think they counted on your getting help from a half-naked jungle denizen and a black panther."
"Yes, about that -- " Doctor Mac began.
Mr. Campbell int
errupted him. "Phoebe, when are the others due in?"
"All through the night," Phoebe replied.
"You're sure none of them need to be met?"
Phoebe replied, "Sue has her own transportation, of course. The river authority was reluctant, but I was persuasive."
"Mmmm. You can be very persuasive." Mr. Campbell bent down and kissed his wife.
Madame Moore-Campbell tapped his nose to come up for air and went on. "Mowgli and his family came to London with us, of course. Dr. Twist insisted on making all the other arrangements. I only hope he doesn't frighten any of them away."
I glanced sidelong at Doctor Twist, who grinned and rubbed his hands together as if he looked forward to frightening these mysterious "others".
"Hah! Maybe it's a good test of their resolve. So, Mac and I will go see if we can question the boy who tried to rob him. Want to tag along, Florizel? Twisty?"
"It's time for me and Tod to get started frightening the other recruits," Twist demurred. "We shall go up and then you can go down."
Doctor Mac growled and rose unwillingly from his comfortable chair, shedding the satin jacket and donning his overcoat and blue goggles. His wife sweetly made sure his coat was buttoned and his scarf securely wound about his neck. I readily agreed to accompany them, very curious to know more of this kidnapping incident and as hopeful as they were of getting someone to question.
We were destined to learn nothing, however. The boy was gone, the constable on desk duty informed us when we got him to admit there had actually been a pickpocket incident that evening.
"I thought surely he would be held overnight," Doctor Mac snapped at the fellow.
"How was he released so soon?" Mr. Campbell demanded.
More constables were called. Papers were shuffled. Whispered conversations were held. The upshot was that no one knew. Everyone thought someone else had him, or someone else was doing the paperwork.
"He's clean vanished from under their noses," Doctor Mac growled as we emerged into the drizzle once more.
"They have no idea who he was or where to find him," Mr. Campbell mocked.
"In the midst of all that confusion, is it not odd that everyone agreed upon one thing?" I said. "The constable walked in with his collar and vanished off the face of the earth. How can that have happened?"
"Well, among other things, your highness, that's why we called you in," Mr. Campbell said grimly. "By the way, we insist you take a room for the night downstairs, as our guest. We have a few more things to go over with you before tomorrow's meeting and it's already far too late for you to go home to your place." I was too intrigued to do other than accept.
"There are quite a few more things I would still like to know," Doctor Mac began as we arrived back at the penthouse sitting room. The two ladies graciously helped us strip out of our wet things. Madame Moore-Campbell then repaired to a curious credenza-like furnishing in a niche outside the suite she and her husband shared. The cabinet rotated and presented file drawers by clockwork and steam power as she operated a series of levers. She extracted and handed to Doctor Mac and his wife a folder of documents.
"These seem to be biographical sketches," Doctor Mac commented.
"They are," Madame Moore-Campbell nodded. "They will acquaint you with the people we have asked to join our company, and will help prepare you for our meeting tomorrow."
"Prince Florizel of Bohemia," Madame Campbell read. I flushed anew but they persisted in reading the entire document. I was forced to endure a far too enthusiastic recital of the absurdly risky adventure my comrade Colonel Geraldine and I had undertaken in our heedless youth. Geraldine and I had served together during my two years' obligatory military service before I had begun university. He had followed me into exile a few short months after my escape, finding himself also unable to endure or stop my uncle's abuses of power. We had been mercenaries together in various parts of Europe before settling again in London.
"This account of how you pursued that dreadful man who ran the Suicide Club and challenged him is chilling. You must be a very daring man," Madame Campbell said with a sharp glance up at me. I tried to meet her gaze, lest she think me a dissembler, but it was a difficult enough thing to do. When Doctor Mac added his own piercing gaze I was even more discomfited. I felt most unworthy of his next words.
"A good man, and full of courage."
"You two must get some rest," Madame Moore-Campbell insisted, pushing them off to the suite where she had helped Madame Campbell change earlier. "Look the rest of the biographies over quickly, but you've been through enough tonight."
After the pair reluctantly closed their door Madame Moore-Campbell turned to me. "How shamefully we have neglected you, your highness. I do not know how to make amends for my appalling neglect of my duty as hostess. Can I offer you some refreshment? Has my husband informed you that we have a room engaged for you?'
"Madame, I am warmed by the sweet care and fellowship I have witnessed here and need no other attentions," I assured her. "Please let me know what you require from me if I am to associate with this company you mean to form."
"It is so late," she sighed. "We shall meet in the morning at ten o'clock. We will have a breakfast tea in the Pyrenees Conference room before the meeting begins but you are also welcome to break your fast in the hotel's dining room. They have orders to serve any of our members at any time and you are absolutely not to pay a cent. It is taken care of. I have here documents intended to brief you on our meeting's agenda. Several prospective members, yourself included, will present reports on occurrences each of us have witnessed that dovetail to bolster the case for the criminal organization we began to talk of earlier."
She repaired to her clockwork credenza again and presented me with a folder of my own. "I wish you to tell the story of your chance meeting with this young man."
I glanced over the remarkably detailed account. My eyes flew to hers.
"How did you learn of this?" I demanded. "I was at a loss what to do with the clues I gained from this, shocking as it was. And I had a piece of written evidence I meant to study further, but it disappeared, so I have chafed and done nothing."
"The evidence you speak of came into my hands," she confessed. "A pickpocket stole it from you, and that pickpocket tried to rob my husband the same evening and dropped the paper as he fled, since Archie, too, has a problem turning the other cheek." she smiled. "It was the last clue I needed to put me firmly on your track and finally enable me to find you. And it has helped greatly in our efforts to build our final presentation for Rose's foundation.
"Here are copies of the same biographical sketches I gave to Rose and Mac, and our agenda for the meeting tomorrow. What more can I tell you to reassure you about your participation? I feel you are the least informed and prepared of our members and I so regret that. I also feel -- " she stopped abruptly and looked uncertainly at her husband.
"Don't begin being shy now, Phoebe-Bird," Mr. Campbell urged. "This is too important."
"You will see from your biographical sketch that I really know very little about you," the lady said. "Of course, you can make the same charge concerning me. I have bettered my acquaintance with and knowledge of the other members over a period of months. Please do not be offended, but I must ask you to endure a sort of probationary period. No one else need know of this, but let me just be frank. I must make myself more certain of your fitness to be a part of my organization before I can offer you a sure place among us. Do you understand?"
"It is all perfectly clear." The atmosphere of warmth and trust that had built itself around me in my brief time in this place evaporated. The powerful memory of my mother's coldness toward me and her self-interest in pursuing my uncle struck me like a blow. The callous letter my sister wrote to Trevor trolling for his courtship and his money also leaped to the fore. The desolation of being hooded and bound, of hearing those hammers drawn back -- I stopped myself from dwelling on these dark thoughts.
It was completely uncalled for,
comparing a natural caution in a business association to the abandonment I had felt as I realized that my uncle, my mother, and my sister had betrayed me and sentenced me to death. With an effort I shook off the black mood but my shell of reserve was not so easy to shed. "I, too, will need a better acquaintance, a better understanding before I can give you an answer about whether I can be associated with what you mean to do here."
They both saw the change in my manner and looked troubled, but I doubted they knew what passed through my mind or what they would or could say further to reassure me. I took the materials from the lady, bowed, and left with her husband as my guide to go to my room.
"Well, good night, then, your highness," Mr. Campbell said as he left me at my door. He held out a hand, but I bowed instead of taking it.
The dark thoughts rose again as soon as I was alone. I had been filled with confusion, doubt, trepidation, even fear over and over this evening. But these uncertainties had slowly dissipated as I had, I thought, become a part of something I had not experienced since the death of my father. I had come into a new family, it had seemed, into a place of ease, laughter, camaraderie, and love, and though I had not even been formally introduced into the group's notice for half the evening, I had belonged somehow.
I had found myself wanting more of this association, more intimacy with these amazing people. But Mrs. Moore-Campbell had made it clear that I was to be held at arm's length. I was to be scrutinized where others had already been welcomed. These were thoughts I could not stop from crowding in no matter how hard I tried to recapture the glow that had been more attractive than the fire's warmth on this very cold evening.
To try to distract myself I looked about to acquaint myself with this room, belatedly realizing I had not even brought a change of clothing. Then I found the morning suit hanging in the closet and all the necessities I could want, in my size, all newly purchased. The garments were just to my taste if not perfectly tailored, and the sense of warmth and care started to grow upon me again. I pushed it down, because it was necessary to do so, to hold it at arm's length, and quickly showered. I settled myself at the desk in my borrowed nightclothes to look over the documents Mrs. Moore-Campbell had given me. My bewilderment, and the dark thoughts that would not be pushed down, rose in force as I looked at the odd company with which I had been told I should plan to associate myself. Before me lay descriptions of an American singer, a London inventor, an elderly country churchman, the owner of a private security firm from the Caribbean, a Chinese merchant, an Indian forest ranger, and finally another American woman who appeared to be some sort of cattle-herder. I put the biographies aside, unable to concentrate on them any longer.
Desperation and Decision Page 3
