Well, Lil thought. Of all the things she’d expected might happen on this journey, Carruthers joining the circus had certainly not been one of them. But perhaps this would work out rather well, she mused. Being part of the circus would certainly offer an excellent cover while they were in St Petersburg – and what’s more, she speculated, if Carruthers was being kept busy by Max, he’d be out of her hair while she went in search of Sophie.
Hanna and the others were even merrier now that they were officially part of the circus. They ate supper together, and when night fell, Ravi showed them how to fold down bunk beds from the walls of the compartment, while Hanna got out blankets and pillows. Soon, they were all tucked cosily in their bunks, and Lil could hear the now-familiar sound of Carruthers’ snores.
But Lil herself couldn’t sleep. She was too excited, tossing and turning restlessly in her bunk, listening to the train steaming onwards through the night. The early hours of the morning found her standing alone in the passageway, gazing out of the open window, watching the starry lights of St Petersburg draw closer.
As the rose-gold dawn began to seep across the sky, she felt a thrill, watching it light up the shapes of domes and spires. The city rose up before her, wreathed in mist, growing larger and more real, as the train chugged towards it.
At eight o’clock they came at last into the station. Lil was one of the first to disembark, her suitcase tucked under her arm. In the smart, modern surroundings of the Vitebsky station she gazed around her – taking in the high, arched ceilings, the grand staircases, the gleam of gilt. Stern, uniformed guards marshalled the crowds of people hustling through the station – many of them pausing to point and exclaim over the scarlet and gold circus train, their voices a buzz of unknown languages. The light gleamed pale gold; the air was cold and smelled of smoke; and pigeons flapped above her head. All around her, the circus folk were descending from the train too – stretching, yawning, calling out to each other.
Excitement stirred in the pit of her stomach. She had made it. She had arrived in St Petersburg – and now she could set out to find Sophie at last.
Taylor & Rose Detective Agency Sinclair’s Department Store, London
‘Telegram for Taylor & Rose!’ Mei accepted the envelope from the uniformed Sinclair’s porter as he hurried into the Taylor & Rose office, before rushing off to deliver his next message. It was another busy day at Sinclair’s and, as always, London’s most famous store was full of eager shoppers and admiring tourists. As the door swung shut behind the porter, Mei caught a glimpse of visitors outside the office door, keen to peep in and see what might be happening inside. There were rumours that the young lady detectives of Taylor & Rose had many important clients – from aristocrats to West End stars like Mrs Kitty Whitman, who had recently been spotted paying them a visit, to the delight of London’s gossip columnists. Now, they lingered hopefully on the threshold, hoping to catch a glimpse of some illustrious personage going in or coming out.
Of course, to these excited visitors Taylor & Rose was just one of the unusual attractions they could see at Sinclair’s. A detective agency run by young ladies was simply another intriguing feature of the store, to go alongside its glamorous Beauty Salon, its exotic Pet Department where you could purchase anything from a poodle to a python, and its famous Marble Court Restaurant, where the crème-de la crème of London society could be seen enjoying one of the chef’s famous ice puddings.
Most of the time, Mei was far too busy to pay any attention to the watchers outside the office and today was no exception. The telephone bell had been ringing all morning, and she had a stack of reports and letters to type. But she forgot all about the work she had to do when she saw the telegram, and quickly ripped open the envelope.
Inside was exactly what she had hoped for. The message might look like no more than a string of incomprehensible numbers, but Mei knew what it was at once. They’d planned that Lil would send a coded telegram as soon as she arrived in St Petersburg. They’d agreed a secret code in advance, which would make it impossible for anyone to decipher her message, unless they had the pre-arranged key word.
Now, Mei quickly took out a pencil, and began working out the solution, starting with writing out the alphabet in full. The key word they had agreed was MONTGOMERY after Billy’s favourite fictional detective, Montgomery Baxter. She wrote it down carefully in capital letters, removing any repeated letters: MONTGERY. Then after it she wrote the rest of the alphabet, leaving out the letters she’d already used. Underneath she wrote the numbers 1 to 26 in order, so that the number ‘1’ was positioned directly beneath the letter ‘A’.
Mei was so absorbed in solving the cipher, that for a moment she didn’t notice that the office door had opened again. She looked up to see that two men she’d never seen before had strolled into the office.
‘Hello there,’ said one of them – a tall, fair, suntanned fellow, who swaggered over to her desk and swept off his hat with a flourish. ‘Captain Forsyth, at your service.’
‘Philip Brooks,’ said the other, who wore a black raincoat and carried an umbrella.
‘We’re here on behalf of Mr Clarke, of Clarke’s Shipping Agents,’ said the first man, Forsyth. ‘You know what that means, I’m sure.’ He gave her a quick wink.
Of course, Mei knew exactly what it meant. Clarke’s Shipping Agents was the code name for the Secret Service Bureau, and Mr Clarke meant the Chief himself. Forsyth took a wallet from his pocket and flipped it open – quickly flashing her an identity card indicating that he was indeed Captain Harry Forsyth, of His Majesty’s Army.
Brooks looked sharply around at the reception area, taking in its comfortable chairs and elegant flower arrangements, before coming forward to lean over her desk. The telltale telegram from Lil was still lying there, but Mei quickly opened her big leatherbound appointment book, covering it up.
‘Do you have an appointment?’ she asked, studying the pages as though she were looking for their names – though she knew quite well they were not there.
‘Look here, miss,’ said Brooks in an insolent tone, which seemed to imply the polite address could not possibly fit someone like her – a young, half Chinese girl with an East End accent. ‘We’re not messing about with appointments. We need to speak to whoever is in charge here, urgently. Understand?’
Mei felt her cheeks turn pink, but she was determined not to let this man see he had rattled her. ‘And what will that be in reference to?’ she demanded, in her haughtiest voice.
‘Don’t mind my colleague,’ said Forsyth, with another warm grin. ‘His bark is worse than his bite. It’s just this is rather important, you see. It’s about Miss Rose and her current assignment.’
It took all of Mei’s nerve not to let her eyes slide back to the telegram – a corner of which she saw was still visible from under the appointment book. ‘Very well,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘Please follow me.’
She led the two men out of the reception, and through to Sophie and Lil’s empty office. ‘Take a seat, if you please,’ she said, prim and polite.
But the moment she had closed the door behind them, her formal manner vanished and she ran helter-skelter in search of Billy and Joe. To her relief, she found them both sitting at Billy’s desk, drinking tea and eating jam tarts: Billy was reading bits of a case-file out loud, whilst Joe stretched out in a chair with Daisy the guard dog curled contentedly at his feet.
‘Oh, hello,’ said Billy, looking up and holding out the plate of tarts. ‘Want one? They’re jolly good.’
But Joe could see from Mei’s flushed face that something was wrong. ‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Two men have turned up from the Bureau. Captain Forsyth and another man called Brooks!’ she burst out. ‘They said they’re here to talk about Lil.’
Billy choked on his jam tart and had to be thumped on the back. ‘That doesn’t sound good,’ he said, coughing and swallowing. ‘You don’t suppose something could have gone wrong on the journey, do you?�
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Mei shook her head vigorously. ‘A telegram came just a moment ago. I was working it out when they came in. Lil’s made it safely to St Petersburg – though she did say that Carruthers is there too, which is strange. That wasn’t part of the plan.’
Joe and Billy exchanged troubled glances. ‘So do these fellows know she hasn’t gone to Hamburg then?’ asked Joe.
‘Surely they couldn’t possibly – not so quickly,’ said Billy, puzzled. ‘She’s not due back in London for days yet.’
‘They said they had to speak to whoever was in charge. They said it was urgent,’ Mei went on. ‘I’ve put them into Sophie and Lil’s office.’
‘Well, I s’pose we’d better go and talk to them then,’ said Joe, getting to his feet. ‘We need to find out what this is all about.’
In Sophie and Lil’s office, they found that Captain Forsyth was perched on the edge of Sophie’s desk, whilst Brooks was sitting in her chair, flicking through one of their case files. Billy turned scarlet at the cheek of it – but Joe knew at once that getting angry would do them no good. His instincts were telling him to go very carefully. Before either of them could say anything, Forsyth spoke up.
‘Oh – here to fetch the tea are you? Mine’s with milk and sugar. Brooks, what about you, old fellow?’
‘No tea for me,’ said Brooks, without looking up from Lil’s papers.
Billy’s cheeks burned redder than ever. He took a step forward. ‘I understand you want to speak to whoever is in charge. Well – that would be us,’ he declared, gesturing to himself and Joe.
The two men looked back at him – Forsyth amused, Brooks frankly disbelieving. For a moment, Joe saw themselves quite clearly through their eyes. Billy might be neatly dressed in a suit and tie, but it was plain to see he was not yet seventeen – a more usual age for a junior clerk than an office manager. What was more, his fair hair was sticking up at the front, and there was a small blob of strawberry jam visible on the front of his white shirt. As for Joe himself, he’d come straight from the stables, and was wearing an old pair of corduroy trousers with boots and an open-necked shirt. Daisy had followed him, as she did everywhere he went, and was now nosing at his hand, obviously hoping that he might have some jam-tart crumbs for her.
Forsyth gave a jolly laugh. ‘Nice try, boys!’ he said. ‘Now, can you send in whoever is really in charge?’
‘We’re rather busy, you know,’ said Brooks shortly. ‘We haven’t time to waste.’
‘We aren’t wasting your time,’ replied Billy indignantly. ‘I’m William Parker, and I’m the office manager here,’ he announced, stepping forward and offering them his hand.
‘Stop messing around,’ said Brooks, ignoring the hand altogether. ‘You can’t be serious – you’re just a kid.’
‘Kid or not, it’s the truth,’ said Joe. ‘We’re in charge here while L . . . er . . . Miss Rose and Miss Taylor are away.’
‘Look, that’s enough,’ said Brooks, getting up and moving towards him aggressively. ‘Fetch your boss – go on, get on with it. This is serious.’
‘We’re quite serious,’ said Joe, taking a step towards him in response. ‘Look – why don’t you just tell us what this is about?’
Forsyth intervened. ‘I say – do you really mean there isn’t anyone more senior we can talk to?’ He chuckled to himself. ‘I knew that this place would be a little unusual, but I must say, I didn’t expect that! Oh, I know – what about McDermott? He’s got an interest in this place, hasn’t he? He’d be the fellow for us to speak to.’
‘It is true that Mr McDermott is an associate of Taylor & Rose,’ Billy replied, in his grandest office-manager voice. ‘But he’s away in America at present.’
‘Sorry, gents, but it’s us or nothing,’ said Joe, settling himself down in Lil’s chair, where Daisy laid her head on his knee at once. ‘What can we do for you?’
Brooks frowned and crossed his arms, but Forsyth nodded. ‘All right. We need to talk to you about Miss Rose.’
‘What we need to know is where she is,’ interrupted Brooks curtly. ‘And what the devil she’s playing at. We know she isn’t in Hamburg.’
‘She isn’t?’ said Joe, feigning surprise. ‘Perhaps they were delayed on the journey. Train problems. Or some issue with their papers.’
‘There couldn’t possibly be any issue with their papers,’ scoffed Brooks at once.
‘But any number of things could have delayed them. I’m sure they’ll get there as soon as they possibly can.’
Forsyth and Brooks exchanged a quick glance, and then Forsyth asked: ‘So you haven’t heard anything from her, then? No letters – no telephone calls – nothing to say she’s had a change of plan, or to explain the delay?’
‘Nothing,’ said Joe coolly.
‘No telegrams?’ added Brooks sharply.
‘Not a peep.’
‘Which of course is perfectly normal. We don’t expect to hear much from her when she’s away on an undercover mission like this,’ added Billy. ‘After all, she wouldn’t want to compromise her cover, would she?’
Forsyth looked thoughtful for a moment, then handed Joe a small white card, printed with a telephone number. ‘If you hear anything from her, then call this number at once and notify us,’ he said.
The two men got up to go. But by the door, Brooks paused. ‘What about St Petersburg?’ he rapped out suddenly.
‘St Petersburg?’ Billy squeaked. Joe gave him a warning look.
‘What’s St Petersburg got to do with anything?’ he replied casually.
Forsyth and Brooks exchanged glances again. ‘St Petersburg is where Miss Taylor is,’ said Forsyth after a moment. ‘Or was.’
‘Oh, is that right? We don’t know anything about that – do we, Bill?’
‘Nothing at all,’ said Billy, picking up the cue. ‘Last time we heard from her, she was in Zurich.’
‘All we know is that she’s on an important assignment for Mr Clarke,’ Joe added. ‘And that she may not be back for a while. Miss Taylor and Miss Rose – well, they tend to keep the details of those assignments to themselves. After all, they are top secret.’
Brooks sniffed. ‘Seems to me that you fellows don’t know an awful lot. So much for being in charge. But then I suppose that’s how it goes in a place like this – a detective agency run by young ladies, if that’s what you call them.’ He snorted as he went out of the door. ‘If you ask me, this operation isn’t much more than a joke – a publicity stunt for Mr Sinclair. I really don’t know why the Chief bothers with it.’
Forsyth followed in his wake, looking a little awkward. ‘We’ll see you again soon, I’m sure,’ he murmured, and then he was gone.
‘Phew!’ Billy exclaimed. ‘What d’you suppose all that was about? How on earth did they know so soon about Lil not being in Hamburg?’
Joe was still sitting in Lil’s chair, stroking Daisy, and thinking hard. Normally friendly with everyone, he’d noticed the dog had been unusually wary while the two men had been in the room and he understood just how she felt. There was something about the whole encounter that made him twitchy, as though he himself was a dog whose hackles had gone up.
‘I’ll tell you what, I didn’t like that Brooks fellow one bit. I know Lil has worked with Captain Forsyth before, but she’s never said a word about him. Why d’you think he brought up St Petersburg like that?’ Billy was saying. ‘D’you think he knows that Lil’s gone there? Perhaps he was trying to take us by surprise – and trick us into giving her away.’
‘If Carruthers really is with Lil, perhaps he blew the whistle to the Bureau?’ suggested Joe, trying to think it out. He hadn’t taken much of a shine to Carruthers on their brief meeting at the railway station: he’d seemed exactly the kind of fellow who’d drop you in it, if you gave him half a chance.
‘And why did they bring up Sophie?’ Billy went on anxiously. ‘The Chief didn’t tell Lil where Sophie was, or anything about her being missing. So why did Brooks start talking about
her being in St Petersburg, if we aren’t supposed to know anything about it?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Joe slowly. ‘But I think you’re right. I think they were trying to trip us up.’
He looked down at the card in his hand – a simple white card, with nothing on it but a number, not even the name CLARKE to identify it. He knew he wouldn’t be calling it anytime soon. And yet, he felt a sudden, powerful urge to take action – to do something. He was certain that there had been something peculiar about their visit and his instincts were shouting to him that even if Lil had arrived safely in St Petersburg, her mission to find Sophie could well be far more complicated and precarious than they had anticipated. He wished more than ever that he had climbed aboard that train with her. For now she was a thousand miles away in St Petersburg, knowing no one she could trust. As he sat in Lil’s chair, smoothing Daisy’s fur, he felt a growing sense that something wasn’t right – the problem was, he didn’t have the slightest idea what it was.
‘St Petersburg is full of the most marvellous entertainments! Already, Papa has taken me to the opera at the Mariinsky Theatre, to the wonderful Imperial Ballet, and to see a magnificent exhibition of Russian art. Tomorrow we are to go to the famous Ciniselli Circus, of which I have heard so much – and I am so excited I don’t believe I shall sleep a wink tonight!’
– From the diary of Alice Grayson
The House on the Ulitsa Zelenaya, St Petersburg
Sophie woke suddenly to the sound of the book in her hands slipping from between her fingers and falling to the floor.
She’d been dreaming she was back in the Taylor & Rose office. She’d seen the light slanting through the tall windows, heard the hum of traffic from Piccadilly Circus below, felt the smooth texture of Daisy’s fur beneath her hand . . . But gradually she became aware that she was instead curled up in the armchair in the empty, darkened cellar room. Earlier that evening she’d been sitting reading while Nakamura worked on his aeroplane designs: now, his work table was empty.
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