The docks were divided into two sections. One went down to the waterfront of the Thames. There the steamships were moored and ready to unload cargo or head out to the ocean. The second section went to a bit of higher ground, with airships moored to a large scaffolding with staircases connecting each piece. Byron veered towards the higher docks and Mira’s breath caught in her throat.
They approached the docking area and moved towards a large red balloon. Cables crisscrossed over the surface, creating a quilted pattern. The cables were connected to the main passenger chassis which looked to be almost one thousand feet in length. It was significantly larger than she had expected.
She didn’t realize she had stopped moving until she noticed Byron’s scrutinizing stare. Her face reddened, and she started walking again.
“Are you alright, Mira?”
“Quite. I’ve just never been this close to one before.”
“I see.” He pulled two tickets out of his pocket and proceeded up the stairs. When he reached the top, he turned and offered his hand. Hesitating a moment, she took it and he helped her up, giving her hand a comforting squeeze before letting go. He passed the tickets to the conductor and led the way into the airship.
The highly embellished interior was in stark contrast to the docks below. Mira knew of airships holding up to one hundred and twenty people, with elaborate guest quarters and restaurants, observation decks and ballrooms. The halls were carpeted in red to match the canvas of the balloon. She ran her hand along the inner walls covered in a cream wallpaper with golden fleur-de-lis accents. A mahogany chair rail ran along the wall with portrait and landscape paintings dotted along the way. The outer wall was clear, curved glass that ran all the way around the exterior of the airship to give the best view. They walked along the corridor looking at paintings or out the observation windows in silence. Midway through the corridor there was a hallway going back into the inner wall. Countless doors led to crew and passenger quarters. They rounded the bend and came to the main observation lounge. Glass nearly surrounded the place, with armchairs and couches provided. Several people already occupied them. A hall continued past and back around to the rear of the ship. The back wall of the observation room held a door that led to the ballroom and dining areas.
As she explored, she sensed Byron’s gaze on her. She made a mental note and became increasingly curious as to why they were there. He would tell her eventually, right? After looking in the ballroom she came back to the observation area and took a seat near the glass exterior. Byron joined her. She bit her lip and averted her gaze.
“This is entirely wonderful, but I am wondering. Why are we here?”
“I thought it would be a nice change in routine.”
“It is nice, but don’t we have a case to solve?”
“We’ll have plenty of time for that.”
“Shall we?”
“Yes. We shall. You see, this ship is making a round trip today. It starts here, and then it flies to Bristol. Once there it will refuel and drop off some passengers, and then it will turn around and fly back probably before seven tonight. I certainly hope you didn’t have any plans.” His eyes twinkled.
“I do now.” She smiled. “But that doesn’t answer the question about the case.”
“Ah, yes. I figured that this would be ample time for you to ride an airship for the first time and do your sightseeing, and then with however much time that leaves us, this does happen to be the airship that our friend Pennington was working on. The Horizon. I thought we might have a friendly chat with his previous coworkers.”
“I knew you had a plan.”
“Always do. Course this outing was a surprise, was it not?”
“Yes. It was. A lovely surprise.”
“There you have it. I’m also investing in my secretary’s well-being.”
“Thank you.”
A megaphone crackled above them. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen! This is your captain speaking. We have just finished our preliminary checks and shall soon be underway. Just thought I would let you know before we start up the engines. Our flight is round-trip from London to Bristol. Happy flying!”
The megaphone died down. Mira noticed that her hands were gripping the armrests of her chair. This was it. They were about to take off. Being on the airship itself wasn’t much of an issue. After all, it was entirely safe on the ground. But the addition of air and height made it potentially lethal. She closed her eyes. She knew that was a lie. Her parents’ accident had happened on the ground, after all. But none had happened since then. She would be fine. She felt the engine rumble beneath her, and she trembled ever so slightly. Then, out of nowhere, she felt a hand fall on top of hers.
“Mira?” Byron said. She opened her eyes and looked at him. “It’s alright Mira. We’ll be fine.”
Her breaths became steady again. Something in his voice soothed her, and his expression was so sincere. He shifted his hand, so he held hers and gently pulled her to a standing position, then steered her to the window. The airship rose, and she felt a type of weightlessness. They drifted higher and higher until they were at eye level with the clouds. It was exhilarating. It was liberating. It was safe. She glanced at Byron and he quickly looked back out the window. She smiled softly and watched as London got smaller and smaller.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, not looking at her, but at the clouds outside. Then he let go of her hand. “Shall we go and explore some more?” He grinned at her.
They spent a good portion of the day looking over every inch of the airship that they could. They ate in the restaurant, and Mira couldn’t tell if the French toast really was better on the airship, or if it only tasted that way because they were flying. The views from the observation windows continued to astound her. She sketched clouds and other passengers in the observation deck while Byron searched for a steward. They needed permission to go below the main deck and talk to the crew. She just finished the shading on one drawing when he came back.
“They gave us permission. Shall we?” He offered an arm. She took it.
“Yes. We shall.”
He led her around the main hallway towards the center of the ship where all the passenger quarters were. They turned onto that hallway and made their way past door after door until they reached the center. A door marked “Crew Only” stood there. Byron paused.
“I must warn you; We shall be going outside.”
She nodded, and he opened the door. A gust of wind pulled at her skirts as they descended a spiral staircase.
The engines and crew quarters were slightly detached from the main chassis. The design was an attempt to eliminate noise and rumbling for passengers on the main deck of the ship. The chassis containing the engine rooms and crew quarters was suspended from heavy cables that ran all the way up to the balloon about twenty feet below the passenger deck. In order to reach it you had to take a set of stairs outside of the confines of the airship in the open air.
The wind bit at her skin and pulled her hair and skirts in every direction, but she grinned, nonetheless. Byron kept a hold of her hand to keep her steady as he led her into the belly of the beast.
The closed door snuffed out any exterior light. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she felt queasy from the smell of sulfur. When her eyes adjusted, she found that everything was made of metal, presumably aluminum. Byron led her past crew quarters and an engine room to the front of the ship. A wheel-like helm was the focal point of the room. Foreign instruments lined the walls. A large window filled up the front portion. Several airship operators attended to buttons and switches on each wall. Byron approached one of them.
“Excuse me, do you have a moment to spare?”
“Ah yes, you are the private detective?” The operator looked up from his work. He was a bit heavyset and older. His hair was dirty blond and his face red from the heat of the control room. Mira opened her sketchbook to make a rough outline.
“Yes. Might I ask what your name is?”
> “Blake Gill. Yours?”
“Byron Constantine. Mira Blayse.” Byron gestured to each of them in turn.
“Right. I was told you wanted to know about good ol’ Clemmy. Right sad that he’s dead, but it doesn’t surprise me that he’s done himself in.”
“You think he killed himself?”
“Well that’s what the coppers say, now innit?” He turned away from his panel and grabbed a cloth, wiping the grease from his fingers and the sweat off his brow.
“For now, yes. Why doesn’t it surprise you?”
“Well, when he left us, he was right depressed. I mean, he acted normal enough when he was on the job. Saying his good mornings, how are the kids, that sort of thing, cheerful enough. But I mean when you’re on the job you’re so busy you kind of forget things, you know? But when we would go on break, he would always go off on his own. Don’t know where he disappeared to. He’d be wandering the ship for hours when we docked, and he weren’t on duty. Like I said, I think he was depressed. The spark had come right out of him. Didn’t have any family to speak of. I think his brother got sent off to Australia for something or other. And his father died in a tragic accident or something like that. Course, before he did, he was one of the best engineers in the business.”
“Pennington or his father?”
“Oh. His father. Sorry about that. Anyway, ol’ Clemmy didn’t really have anything other than the airship in his life that I know about. And him quitting his job all sudden-like, what else could it be?”
“I see. And how long have you been working for this company?”
“Coming close to ten years now, I think.”
“And you said you don’t know where he went during his breaks?”
“Yes, it’s like he disappeared clear off of the ship.”
“These breaks occurred mid-flight then?”
“Some of them, yes. But of course, the breaks we have when we are docked are shore leaves often enough. Most of us go our separate ways as it is during those times.”
“It just surprised you that he disappeared during the mid-flight breaks?”
“Yeah, usually everyone that is off duty goes and we all have a pint and a bite to eat together. He did that for the first few months, and then, like I said, we never saw him except in the control rooms.”
“When was the last time you saw Mr. Pennington?”
“It was his last day of full labor. We all said our goodbyes. He looked cheerful enough, but there must have been some awful reason for him quitting. None of us understood it. When he first came on, he said that it was a dream come true. That ‘nothing could compare to soaring among the clouds,’ he said. So, when he up and left, not one year after he started, we all thought it strange. He said, ‘I’m going to bigger and better things lads,’ and off he went.”
“Anything else you think we should know?”
“Nothing I haven’t already told the constabulary, sir.”
“Thank you very much, Mr. Gill.”
“Of course, sir, of course. Now I ought to get back to work.”
He turned back to his panel. They talked to a few other operators who all had similar stories. All of them thought it odd that he left, and none of them knew where he went during the breaks when he seemingly disappeared. They left the control room and went back towards the stairway to return to the main passenger deck.
“Now, it really is pointing towards suicide, isn’t it?” Mira said.
“Not entirely. We just need to determine where he went during his breaks. He couldn’t have entirely disappeared. He had to go somewhere, and someone had to have seen where he went.”
“So, we are going to come back?”
“Yes. We are going to come back.”
They made their way up the windy staircase. The clouds changed from white to grey and the wind picked up. Mira felt a twinge of apprehension as they climbed the stairs. She shivered from the relative cold. When Byron reached the top of the stairs, he took her hand and pulled her into the safety of the airship. He closed the door behind her, let go of her hand, and they walked back to the observation deck. The clouds loomed ever closer as they passed the grand windows. Mira measured her breaths and held her shaking arms.
“Mira, you do realize that I am a detective, and although I have memory issues when I sleep, I still have my deductive powers during the day?”
“Yes?”
“Then why are you trying to hide the fact that you are scared of the storm?”
“I…well…um…” She looked away.
“You don’t have to act brave for me. I understand.”
“I didn’t mean—”
Lightning crackled through the clouds near the ship and the resulting thunder rumbled through the deck. She jumped with a slight shriek and he caught both of her arms, steadying her. She looked up at him and saw the concern in his deep blue eyes. Her muscles relaxed.
“It’s going to be alright, Mira.” He studied her face and softened.
“Byron, I—” The megaphone above them crackled on.
“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking. Due to the weather conditions we will have to land the airship. We aren’t certain how long we shall be grounded. We will be landing near Marlborough. We apologize for the inconvenience.”
“It would seem that we’ll be staying a bit longer than I had anticipated. I’m sorry, Mira.”
“No. It’s quite alright. I’d rather we land.”
As night closed in, the storm continued. They sat with the other passengers in the observation lounge and watched the rain slip down the glass. The captain announced that any passengers who did not have room accommodations would be provided them. Byron acquired two keys for adjoining rooms. He led her to the back of the ship where they would be staying. They walked in a still silence as the thunder cracked outside the ship. He stopped next to one of the doors and turned to her.
“Mira…this will be the first documented occasion since the accident that I have stayed overnight anywhere that wasn’t 27 Palace Court.”
“Yes?”
“I’m going to be disoriented when I wake up.”
“Yes. I believe you are.”
“I’m going to need you to explain everything to me. I shall be setting notes around my bed to ensure that I know of something. You will come in the morning to make sure I remember?”
“Yes, Byron.”
“Good. Good.” It was his turn to be nervous. Up in the sky he exuded confidence. Here on the ground he seemed scared of the prospect of staying somewhere new.
“Goodnight?” She gently touched his arm, pushing him towards his room.
“Yes. Right. Goodnight.” He handed her key to her, turned, and entered his room. She watched the door close and then entered her own room.
It was small, but it fit her purpose. A door connected her room and his, only separated by a lock, really. She sat on her bed thinking about the unexpected route the day had followed. On a normal day, she would be back at her rooms around this time. And what about poor Nero? Hopefully he could fend for himself.
Her thoughts drifted to Byron. His entire day, with the newspaper and the airship, her fear and his compassion, the questions, the investigation, all of it would be forgotten. Even though this was normal for Byron, it was burdensome for her to wrap her head around. How could so much be lost in such a short period of time? What kind of accident could have happened to him to cause his memory loss? The more she thought about things, the more she realized that she knew little to nothing about Byron. And now she was, as her uncle would say, gallivanting all over the countryside with someone who was practically a stranger. She laughed a little as she got ready for bed. What did she know about Byron? Practically nothing. She knew he was a private detective who forgot. Other than that, everything was a complete mystery to her. She added “ask Byron about himself,” to her mental list of things to do. Although the mystery of how he lost his memory seemed a bit of a large subject to breach. She l
aid down on the bed. That would have to wait until the rest of the mysteries were out of the way. And when that time came, she would help him remember for good.
After tossing and turning for half the night, she decided sleeping was fruitless. She determined to help Byron at the first sign of trouble, despite her lack of sleep. She waited in the darkness for any sounds to come from the adjoining door, her thoughts keeping her company as she mulled over the case. One murder. Three suspects. She spread her sketches of each witness or suspect across her bed. Some were less than satisfactory as she hadn’t had time to perfect them. The cat burglar still prowled in North London but that could be a completely different matter unrelated to the murder. Pennington’s place had been searched, at least. But perhaps that was something else as well. There were other reasons for breaking and entering other than burglary. Had anything been stolen? Only Clement Pennington would know. Or possibly the woman. Molly Bridges. Did she kill him after a fight? Motive. That was one of the few things that hadn’t come up in her discussions with Byron. What motive could there possibly be for killing Clement Pennington? Maybe it was suicide. Her eyes grazed over the sketch of Doyle Morrison. He certainly didn’t have motive, but he was in the vicinity.
And the accident of 1870. Mr. Graham had been surprised that either of her parents were involved. After all, her father had been late and her mother shouldn’t have been there at all. But the bodies were proof of their involvement.
She heard the bed creak in Byron’s room. He was awake. She held her breath listening, wondering when she should intervene. Sounds of confused mumblings and the rustling of papers came through the door. She tiptoed to the door that separated them and knocked, unlocking her side. The door opened with a bang.
Constantine Capers: The Pennington Perplexity Page 9