The Secret Abyss

by Darrell Pitt

  The streets were dark, illuminated only by intermittent gas lamps. Ashgrove’s car turned left and accelerated. Jack and Scarlet followed. Jack had not ridden a bike for some time and was already feeling the strain. If they lost sight of the steamcar, they wouldn’t find it again. Turning towards the Potomac River, it came to a stop.

  Jack pulled in behind a tree, dripping sweat. Scarlet came to an untidy halt behind him. Puffing, they clung to the tree and tried to remain quiet as Ashgrove stepped out of the vehicle. It took off and disappeared around the corner.

  A thin strip of parkland bordered the river. The trees within it cast pools of deep shadow. Everything was strangely quiet after the panic at the theatre. Jack peered back at the riverside, his eyes growing accustomed to the gloom. Ashgrove marched across the park with Jack and Scarlet tiptoeing after him.

  Scarlet grabbed Jack’s arm and motioned with her hand. Where’s he going?

  Jack shrugged.

  Ashgrove slowed near the riverbank. At the same time, a figure broke from the shadows. Jack watched as Ashgrove drew back a fist…and slammed the newcomer in the face! Ashgrove started berating the other person, but Jack could not make out the words.

  A sound came from the river. Against the darkness Jack saw a shape moving towards the small dock. A riverboat, some kind of paddle steamer, but with its lights out. In the dark it resembled a ghost ship.

  The two men strode up the dock to a gangway and boarded the boat. A light flared as one lit a cigarette, and now Jack recognised the man that Ashgrove had met in the park.

  It was the Chameleon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ‘It’s him,’ Scarlet hissed. ‘The Chameleon.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘We need to catch him.’

  ‘You do that,’ Jack advised. ‘I’ll wait here.’

  She fumed. ‘I’m just saying…’

  The men spoke for a while before rounding the deck and disappearing. Jack stood under the tree, seething. They needed to capture the Chameleon, but how? He was the world’s most dangerous assassin. They needed to get a message to Mr Doyle.

  A sound came from the road. A boy was riding a bike in their direction. Jack dragged Scarlet towards the gaslit roadway.

  ‘Wait!’ he called as loudly as he dared. ‘Stop!’

  The boy was about thirteen, with curly brown hair and a cheeky face. Dressed in rags and wearing no shoes, he skidded to an untidy halt under a lamp.

  ‘What is it? I ain’t done nothin’ to you.’

  ‘We need your help.’

  The boy looked at them curiously. ‘Where’re you from?’

  ‘London,’ Jack said. ‘We have to get a message delivered to someone.’

  ‘Yeah? And what do I get?’

  Jack wished he was wearing his green coat. There was money in one of the pockets. Reaching into his suit, he pulled out The Adventure of the Grinning Glockenspiel.

  ‘No!’ Scarlet snapped. She pulled her blue purse from the neckline of her dress and produced a dollar that Mr Doyle had given her for spending money.

  ‘Do you know where the Liberty Theatre is?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure. Everyone does.’

  ‘We’re giving you this dollar.’ She handed it to the boy, whose eyes lit up with excitement. ‘The man you deliver my message to will give you another.’

  Scarlet concisely dictated a message about how the Chameleon had met Ashgrove on the boat. She said they would wait for Mr Doyle until he arrived.

  ‘What’s your name?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Jimmy.’

  ‘Jimmy,’ he said. ‘It’s vital that this message gets delivered. It has to do with…national security.’

  It was a phrase that he had heard Edmund Wilson use at the White House. The boy’s eyes widened. ‘You mean like spying ’n stuff?’ he said. ‘Wow!’

  Scarlet repeated her instructions and Jimmy pedalled off. Taking refuge under a tree, Jack hoped the boy would not simply pocket the money.

  ‘We must find out what they’re planning,’ Scarlet said. ‘The Chameleon will escape if the ship leaves.’

  Jack’s face creased with concentration.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Scarlet asked.

  ‘I’m trying to read his mind. It’s not working.’

  ‘You’re being silly. We need to go on board and eavesdrop.’

  ‘That’s what I like about you, Scarlet. You’re always so careful, never racing into danger.’

  ‘We might lose him forever if Mr Doyle doesn’t turn up in time. Can we risk that?’

  Jack sighed as they broke from cover. They raced across the park to the foot of the gangway. There was no sign of movement on the ship.

  They crept aboard, and the deck creaked underfoot as they merged with the shadows. A murmur of voices came from the bow. Jack signalled Scarlet to follow as he sidled towards an ajar door. Jack pushed the door open, slid through and edged down the hallway. He held up his hand to Scarlet.

  Wait.

  The voices grew louder, coming from a nearby cabin.

  ‘…missed by inches,’ Charles Ashgrove said. ‘If you had fired earlier we would have been celebrating the death of the tyrant.’

  ‘There will be other opportunities.’

  Jack tiptoed closer. He was uncertain who was in the cabin, but he would have bet his last dollar—if he had one—that one of them was the Chameleon.

  ‘The security surrounding the president will be increased tenfold.’ Ashgrove paused. ‘The time has come for us to move to stage two.’

  ‘The Whip of Fire?’

  ‘The device is not yet ready, but Slate can be persuaded. I told him what happened to that Frankie Shore.’

  Jack’s blood ran cold. This explained why Ashgrove killed Frankie and also tried to kill his family: Frankie must have overheard Ashgrove’s plans. It sounded like Olinka Slate was working with Charles Ashgrove, but under duress.

  ‘The prototype is ready for a demonstration,’ Ashgrove continued. ‘Slate believes the weapon can be made a hundred times more powerful once it’s calibrated to the rock.’

  ‘But is the rock safe?’

  ‘It is dangerous,’ Ashgrove said. ‘The rock has a hypnotic effect if one stares at it too long.’ He paused. ‘I made the mistake of looking at it and was almost lost.’

  ‘Lost?’

  ‘I can’t explain it. Anyway, that’s not important. We will be unstoppable with Slate’s device.’

  ‘But a hundredfold increase could—’

  ‘Destroy Washington? Absolutely.’ Ashgrove laughed. ‘It’s only a matter of time before the South is free.’

  ‘When are we meeting the Swordfish?’

  ‘In a few hours. We had better move, otherwise we’ll miss the rendezvous.’

  Jack heard them rise. He scurried back down the hall, grabbing Scarlet’s arm, ready to race to the gangway. They turned to see a shadowy figure make its way towards them. Scarlet dragged Jack to the stern as Charles Ashgrove’s voice reverberated across the deck. ‘Take us out, Captain.’

  ‘I thought I saw someone back here.’

  ‘It’s only us,’ Ashgrove said. ‘Come along—we’ve no time to waste.’

  Jack and Scarlet exchanged glances.

  ‘We’ve got to get out of here,’ he whispered.

  ‘You want to fight off twenty men?’ Scarlet said.

  The ship came to life with the sound of crew moving about, vibrating as the engine stirred. The gangway scraped as it was withdrawn. The great paddles started to turn. Bazookas, Jack thought. We’re trapped.

  The paddles rotated and the vessel pulled away from the dock. Jack peered around the corner and saw no-one on the deck.

  ‘We’ll jump into the water,’ he suggested. ‘And swim back to shore.’

  ‘Are you mad?’ Scarlet asked. ‘We won’t stand a chance if they see us and start shooting.’

  The dock grew smaller and finally disappeared as the ship turned a bend. Jack seethed. Mr Doyle would
arrive and find the ship gone. Then what? How would he ever find them?

  Scarlet grabbed his arm. ‘Come this way.’

  They crept across the back of the paddle steamer until they found a deep shadow to take refuge in. Jack told Scarlet everything he had heard. There was nothing more to be done after that. They crouched low, watching the darkened water as the ship moved as silently as a thief in the night.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Jack settled into the corner with Scarlet. ‘We’ll get off when the ship stops,’ he said.

  ‘I pray that isn’t the North Pole. I’m not dressed for it.’

  They were still wearing their evening attire. The rumble of the ship began to make Jack’s eyes heavy. He shook his head a few times. Scarlet was already asleep. I must stay awake, he thought.

  The next thing Jack knew was that someone was digging him in the ribs. He opened his mouth to complain, but Scarlet silenced him with a hand across his mouth.

  The sound of the paddles had faded. The engine had stopped. The boat was motionless. ‘I can’t see any houses,’ Scarlet whispered. ‘We’re out in the country somewhere.’

  ‘How long were we asleep?’

  ‘About three hours.’

  They must have travelled several miles in that time. Where were they? And why had they stopped?

  Voices came from the bow. Jack crept to the port side to see what was happening. Men hung over the railing, smoking cigarettes. A torch flashed, breaking through the gloom.

  A signal came back from a spot in the water. Now Jack realised that a small dark shape lay in the middle of the river. A boat was lowered, a rope ladder thrown to it and people climbed in.

  A distant sound broke the silent night: the drone of an engine. Jack stared back downriver. In the distance he saw the nightglow of Washington. Then a shape—as dark and large as the steamer—appeared in the bend of the river.

  ‘It’s another ship!’ Scarlet hissed.

  It was approaching—and fast. At the same instant, a battery of lights came on all over the vessel. A siren rang out, and frenzied cries erupted across the riverboat. The appearance of the new ship had caused a panic.

  ‘Who the hell are you?’

  Jack and Scarlet spun around to see a swarthy man with tattoos.

  ‘Uh,’ Jack said, ‘is this the Swansea ferry?’

  He drew a fist back and threw a punch at the man’s chin. The man grunted, tipped, and hit the deck. Another voice boomed from the oncoming vessel.

  ‘Attention unidentified vessel! This is the United States Navy!’

  Jack turned to run, but the tattooed man’s leg swept under his foot, sending him flying.

  ‘Help!’ he yelled. ‘Help!’

  But the navy vessel was still too far away. Then the man was upon him, looping an arm around his neck. Scarlet ran at the assailant and jumped on his back, but she was shrugged off in an instant. The man lifted Jack, tightening his grip. Jack could feel the life being choked out of him.

  ‘You’re coming with us,’ the man growled.

  Jack pushed backwards as Scarlet knelt behind the man’s legs, tripping them over. There was a satisfying crack as Jack’s head collided with the man’s nose. The assailant’s hands flew to his broken nose. Scarlet dragged Jack free.

  As they staggered to the rear of the steamer, the navy ship fired. A whistle cut the air.

  ‘Get down!’ Jack yelled.

  Ka-boom!

  The bridge of Ashgrove’s ship exploded. Timber scattered like confetti across the water.

  ‘They’re shooting at us!’ Scarlet yelled, outraged.

  ‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’

  Jack glanced back but the tattooed man had lumbered away from them. Another rowboat was dropped into the water and the remaining occupants of the ship leapt into it. The boat was illuminated by the light of the naval ship, and Jack could make out a lozenge-shaped tower and a periscope. That must be the Swordfish, he realised. It’s a submersible.

  These ships could stay underwater for hours at a time. They had become more common since the Great War. Someone was even building an underwater city off the coast of Japan.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ Jack said.

  ‘Into that water?’ Scarlet peered doubtfully at the cold river.

  ‘It’s not so bad.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  He grabbed her and pulled her towards the railing. Another explosion came from the navy ship as they tumbled into the river.

  Jack disappeared beneath the icy waves, losing hold of Scarlet. The cold was bone-numbing, the water black and bottomless. Jack searched for the surface, glimpsing the shimmering shape of Ashgrove’s ship on fire. A second cannonball struck. Pieces of metal and timber whistled in all directions.

  He swam towards the oncoming ship, Scarlet behind him. It was not easy in their evening wear. He glanced back at Ashgrove’s vessel. The second rowboat raced to the sub. A metallic thud rang out and the Swordfish began to submerge.

  Men cried out in fury. A wave slammed into Jack, and pulled him under the churning water. He let go of Scarlet. When he came to the surface, he heard screams and a crack of rifles.

  ‘Help!’ Scarlet yelled. ‘Over here! We need your assistance!’

  The girl continued to yell. Jack got a mouthful of water and choked. The naval ship had passed by them, but now Jack saw a small dinghy launch from it. A team of men rowed towards them and a flickering light shone in their faces.

  ‘Get your hands up!’ a voice snarled.

  ‘We’re not with them! I’m Jack Mason and this—’

  ‘Shut up!’

  A pair of hands grabbed Jack. He was unceremoniously hoisted from the water and thrown into the base of the small craft. Jack heard Scarlet try to speak sense to the men, but they ignored her. Someone kicked him in the stomach.

  Jack’s hands were cuffed behind his back and a sack pulled over his head. He felt strong hands grip his arms and the dinghy take off again. He tried to yell out, but he could not suck air into his lungs. He hoped Scarlet was all right. Feet flailing beneath him, Jack was dragged onto the navy ship and down a flight of stairs, and pushed to the floor. The bag was pulled off his head. Light blinded him.

  A man’s face appeared. ‘You’re going to start talking, or you’ll be sorry you were ever born.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ‘Stop!’ a woman’s voice cried out. ‘That’s Jack Mason!’

  Jack blinked. He was in a small cabin on board the ship, surrounded by a group of men. They drew back, and then Gabrielle Smith was at his side. She snapped orders and the handcuffs were removed.

  ‘Your captain will be sorry for this!’ Gabrielle hissed.

  ‘We were only following orders, ma’am,’ one man said, an ugly smile crossing his face. ‘And Captain Clarke doesn’t listen to women!’

  ‘Well, he’s going to start!’ She grabbed Jack’s arm and dragged him into the corridor. ‘Are you all right, Jack?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  He felt ill; he had hit his head on the steamer and swallowed several mouthfuls of the Potomac. ‘They picked up Scarlet as well,’ he mumbled. ‘I don’t know where she is.’

  ‘We have her already,’ Gabrielle said. ‘Mr Doyle is seeing to her.’

  ‘Jack!’ Mr Doyle’s voice rang out. ‘Thank God!’

  The detective appeared in the corridor and threw his arms around Jack. Gabrielle took them back to the cabin where Scarlet was already perched, white-faced and shivering. Her clothes, so magnificent a few hours before, were now ruined. Gabrielle rustled up blankets and wrapped them around their shoulders, while Mr Doyle handed them each mugs of hot tea.

  This is getting to be a habit, Jack thought. How many times have we turned into drowned rats?

  ‘Some cocoa is on the way,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘But swallow this first.’

  ‘How did you find us?’ Scarlet asked.

  ‘We received your message,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Gabrielle informed her Secr
et Service colleagues and we raced to your location.’

  ‘But the ship was already gone,’ Jack pointed out.

  ‘As we discovered. Two navy ships were called in. One headed downstream, but this vessel—the Monitor—went up the river. Gabrielle and I boarded it as we suspected Ashgrove would be heading in this direction.’

  ‘The captain was told to stop Ashgrove’s ship.’ Gabrielle was furious. ‘But he opened fire when they didn’t surrender!’

  ‘We noticed,’ Scarlet muttered.

  Jack felt incredibly tired, but he passed on what they had heard on board Ashgrove’s ship.

  ‘So it sounds like Olinka Slate is a prisoner,’ Mr Doyle said.

  ‘And being forced to develop a weapon.’

  ‘The Whip of Fire,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘A prototype has been developed, but it is not finished.’

  There was a knock and Edmund Wilson entered. His face brightened when he saw Jack and Scarlet. ‘We’ve apprehended several of Ashgrove’s men,’ he announced. ‘They’re not talking, and they’ve called for their lawyers. We believe Ashgrove escaped in a submersible.’

  ‘He did!’ Scarlet said. ‘And he had the Chameleon with him!’

  ‘This is the first time we’ve had an eyewitness confirm a link between Ashgrove and the Chameleon,’ Wilson said gravely. ‘It’s not enough evidence to arrest him, but we can order warrants to search his homes.’

  ‘How many properties does he have?’

  ‘Quite a few.’ Edmund Wilson shook his head. ‘It’s a shame he escaped. First the disaster at the theatre, now Ashgrove getting away.’

  ‘Disaster?’ Jack asked.

  Mr Doyle grasped his shoulder. ‘We saved the president,’ he said. ‘But in all the panic a number of people were crushed to death.’

  ‘No!’ Scarlet was horrified.

  ‘And the theatre burned completely to the ground.’

  Jack reeled, his eyes going starry. The next thing he knew he was lying in a bunk bed and Mr Doyle was watching him with concern. Jack closed his eyes again, and when he next opened them he was alone. Sunlight streamed through the window, and he could make out the gentle paddle of the ship’s engine. The door edged open and Mr Doyle’s face appeared.