The Hidden Man: A Phineas Starblower Adventure (Phineas Starblower Adventures)

by Giles

  “Turn to 300 north, north-west, Sir.”

  “300 Nor’north west, aye.” Jerard replied, wondering again what the fellow’s problem was.

  Slipping his left hand onto the aileron controls he lifted the Discretion's nose skywards a couple of degrees, and the ship began to climb back to cruising height.

  At two thousand feet he leveled her off, marveling at the ease of the flap controls compared to the comparative stiffness of the wheel. Satisfied, he stepped back from the wheel as Wallace had done before, not fully relinquishing it until the pilot was ready.

  “So, Mr. Wallace, thank you, and indeed, thank you all, for that little taste of this fine lady’s performance. She seems a little stiffer on the wheel than I expected but the lateral controls are smooth as silk. How is that?” He offered up to the bridge in general as he settled back into his own seat.

  “Ah the wheel is manual Sir, pulley driven but the laterals are servo assisted, something to do with the rotor angling array.” Wallace answered.

  “Oui captain, as I have come to understand it, when we ascend or descend the center rotors are angled by the servos that adjust the flaps. I have not seen the design before but I understand from Mr. Nichols that it is an attempt to keep the ship more level when changing height.” D'Arcey added.

  Jerard steepled his fingers and leaned forward. “I see, unusual, I shall have to keep that in mind next time I’m up at the helm.” Standing once more he added. “I want to study the ships log for a while, in my cabin. Mr. Wallace, is it safe to assume that you will be fine until I return to take over, so you can get a spot of lunch?”

  “Aye Captain! Mr. Vinnetti fed us breakfast this mornin’ so me gut’s still a purrin’.”

  Jerard chucked. “Well then, thank you for that Mr. Wallace. I shall return as quick as I can. Carry on gentlemen.”

  11:00 am

  The Soul of Discretion

  En Route to Beardmore's Factory & Testing Grounds

  After freshening up a bit, Jerard entered the passenger lounge at precisely eleven o’clock. He found Smythe-Harris curled up on the settee, papers and ledgers bloomed from every flat surface like some sort of bizarre garden. When she did not look up, Jerard cleared his throat. This did not get a reaction either. He was not sure whether to be annoyed or to appreciate the woman’s concentration, deciding on irritation he said: “Madam, it is eleven o’clock.”

  Tash jumped. “Captain Phillips! Oh dear!” She unfolded her legs and hurriedly gathered up the papers and books. “I am so sorry! I did not realize the time. Oh! Please, please have a seat, I shall have this tidy straight away.”

  Jerard watched her a moment longer, enjoying what his small dig had produced, but only for a moment as his good manners seemed to automatically take over. He moved on into the room and knelt down to gather the items that were the furthest away from the flustered woman.

  Tash looked up and smiled. “Thank you Captain.” She said gratefully. Several strands of auburn hair had slipped free of the crown of braids and framed her face. Her blue eyes sparkled merrily as she took the stack of papers from him. For the first time Jerard noticed a faint smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks. The charm and wit displayed in that look nearly took his breath away. I wonder, he thought, why I did not think she was beautiful? For the briefest moment he wanted to reach up and pull the pins from her hair and see if the rest of it was as pretty as the curling strands around her face.

  “Captain?” Tash inquired politely.

  Jerard realized he had been staring and felt the heat rising in his face. “Madam.” He replied, the simple word seemed to break the strange spell he had fallen under. Ye gods! He thought, what is happening to me, I must be more tired than I thought.

  “Thank you for coming to see me Captain Phillips I have several things that I need to discuss with you.” And why are you staring at me Tash thought. She reached up to try to smooth back her wayward hair and discovered she had stuck her pencil in her braids, a long time bad habit. She snatched the pencil out hoping that he had not noticed. But from his failed efforts of trying not to smile she saw that her hope was in vain. Just carry on girl, she reminded herself, just carry on.

  “I have here several reports regarding an accident that took place on this ship several days ago. This accident resulted in severe injuries for engineer Dalton. And sadly the deaths of crewman O’Brien, second engineer Mr. White and your predecessor, Captain Mather.” Tash handed Jerard several papers. “Please Captain, I would have you read these. I would see Sir if you reach the same conclusion that myself and Mr. Nichols have come to.”

  “Very well. When should I report back to you Madam?”

  “Captain Phillips, if you would please read them now I would greatly appreciate it. This is an important matter and I believe it may affect the safety of ourselves and the crew.

  The pages on the top are the official reports and copies of the log entries. The last is a letter written to me by Mr. Nichols the day after the accident, it includes his conclusions. I would have you read that one last if you please.”

  Jerard nodded and began to read. Tash got up and moved to a small cabinet where Gopal had earlier placed a pot of tea. Pouring two cups she returned to place one on a small table at Captain’s elbow and took the other with her back to the settee. She watched him, carefully trying to read his expression. When he finished the first page he placed it at the back of the small stack and continued reading. His expression did not change until he began reading Nichols’ account. The frown that creased his brow was all the confirmation Tash needed but she held her tongue and continued to watch him.

  Jerard read through the first report. Rather standard affair he thought, he had read many such documents while still in Her Majesty’s service. The second report was not as formal and there was something about it that bothered him. He re-read it trying to put his finger on the problem. Giving up he moved to the third document, Mr. Nichols' letter:

  2 June 1870

  Tash,

  Enclosed are the accident reports, copied from the ship’s logs. I know you and I know that each detail will be carefully examined. But I also know how busy you are; I wanted to get this information and my personal findings to you as quickly as possible. Below is my summary of the reports and what I believed happened. I have not discussed this with anyone else nor will I do so without your leave.

  Events transpiring on 1 June:

  Watch Officer’s Log:

  10:00 a.m. –Entry by A. Jones, Watch Officer, control gondola

  *Bakery delivery. Noted: Three new delivery men instead of the usual two familiar individuals.

  10:15 a.m. . –Entry by A. Jones, Watch Officer, control gondola

  *Mr. Vinnetti reported that the delivery men were insisting on delivering 100 loaves of French bread. He refused the delivery as his order was for ten loaves, a ruckus ensued when the delivery driver insisted that he be paid for the bread. Captain Mather issued a cheque for the 100 loaves and instructed the driver to deliver the 90 extra loaves of bread to the Isle of Dogs Orphanage. The Landover brothers were summoned to be sure the delivery men re-loaded the 90 loaves and left the premises.

  Engineers Log:

  8:12 p.m. –Entry by B. White, Second Engineer, auxiliary control gondola

  *Crewmen Dalton & O’Brien reported hearing a slight hissing sound behind the panels of the secondary nacelle, location: Ring 32.

  8:30 p.m. –Entry by B. White, Second Engineer, auxiliary control gondola

  *Upon removal of the panels of the secondary engine nacelle and the panels of the rear gondola, a wet leak was discovered. Further investigation revealed that a high pressure pipe from the steam reservoir, that feeds the boost engine, had come loose at a coupling joint.

  An emergency klaxon sounded from the boost engine’s room. It was my evening off so I had not been involved in what I believed were standard ship’s repairs. I was in my room reading when I first heard the klaxon
, I raced to the boost engine’ enclosure. The scene before me was a horror I shall never forget and therefore I will spare you the details and attempt to stick to my findings.

  Apparently Airshipman Collins was the first on the scene but could not approach the room. His quick thinking moved him to the steam tanks where he closed off the boost engine feeds. He then moved to the auxiliary gondola where he effectively vented the steam pouring into the boost engine room by opening the emergency vents. Captain Mather and Mr. Howell were the next arrive. According to Mr. Howell the Captain slipped on the wet steps leading down into the room where he fell and broke his neck. Mr. Howell then proceeded to call Mr. McPherson to attend the wounded and then called Mr. Jones to send to the hospital for more emergency assistance.

  When I arrived Howell, Tanner, Collins and McPherson began reporting. The Captain and Mr. White had died immediately of their injuries. Mr. O’Brien was unconscious but I was able to speak to Mr. Dalton who told me the following story:

  “Mr. White arrived and told us that he had shut off the pipe’s valve that we were to be working on. He said that the gauge indicated that there was no pressure in the valve. But just in case he and O’Brien loosed the coupling bolts and stood back to allow any steam to escape. But Sir, there was NO steam. I am telling you Sir, you’ve got to believe me, there was NO STEAM!”

  It was several moments before I could calm Mr. Dalton enough to continue with his story:

  “After a few minutes Messrs White and O’Brien unbolted the coupling all the way and took the pipe loose. I had stepped back to retrieve the sealant when the pipe seemed to explode with steam. I remember…I remember not being able to breathe. I think I hit the alarm klaxon…no I did, I hear it. Mr. White Sir, and O’Brien, are they alright?”

  It was at this point Mr. Dalton passed out; it was a miracle in itself that the man was able to talk at all. I will be visiting him and Mr. O'Brien in the hospital when I finish this letter.

  Tash, I was extremely disturbed by Dalton’s words; they made no sense to me. There is always residual steam in a pipe, it can take days for a pipe not under operation to cool enough to drop the pressure. I checked the logs to confirm the boost engine had not been fired up for a week so it was possible that the leak released the residual pressure and the pipe was indeed empty. But this did not explain the pipe suddenly erupting in steam.

  Mr. Collins and I attempted to re-trace Mr. White step’s and took ourselves to the shut-off valve for that particular steam pipe. What we discovered was alarming. The valve was fully open. I know Mr. White, he would not have made a mistake like that. I checked the corresponding gauge and there was a crack in the glass covering of the gauge. Closer examination revealed that the cover had been removed and a tiny pin had been placed next to the needle to hold the gauge at zero pressure. Alarmed I began a close examination of the valve and its surrounds. I discovered a piece of string attached to the valve handle and several small metal objects on the floor below the valve. These objects looked like an exploded music box, the small mechanical kind with tiny springs and gears. At this time I am at a loss to explain the presence of these curious objects. However the tampering with the gauge and fact that the valve was fully in the on position leads me to believe that this was not an accident.

  I carefully questioned each member of the crew present. It was not until my conversation with the Landover brothers that I was able to put more credence to my theory of sabotage. The brothers informed me that they successfully ejected the two bakery deliverymen without much incident. I had already read Mr. Jones’ reports and knew that there were three delivery men.

  Early this morning I went around to Messer Renault’s bakery. He informed me that his delivery carriage had been stolen yesterday. You will find the details as related to me by Mr. Renault in my reports.

  What I have discovered points to the possibility that one of these false deliverymen hid away on the airship and caused this accident. But the question remains: Why?

  Faithfully,

  Lance Nichols

  Jerard set the reports aside and picked up his cup of lukewarm tea sipping it thoughtfully. Why indeed, he thought. Nichols’ investigation seemed to be thorough and his conclusion plausible. But again, it was the question why? Who had something to gain from sabotage?

  A soft knock on the door interrupted Jerard’s thoughts. He finished off the cup and watched Smythe-Harris go to the door. She opened it to admit Mr. Nichols.

  “I’m sorry I am late, minor issue with one of our new crewmen. I am not convinced that gentleman is ‘all there’ if you understand me.” Nichols shook his head.

  “Come on in Lance, I have given Captain Phillips the reports to read.”

  Nichols moved to the chair across from Phillips and sat down heavily. “So Sir, I would hear what you have to say. I brought the tampered gauge and odd mechanical parts I mentioned in my letter to Tash. I thought you may want to see them as well.”

  “I do Sir.” Jerard replied as he watched Tash pour a cup of tea for Nichols. He waited for her to return to her seat on the settee before speaking.

  “Mr. Nichols are you still certain that this was not an accident but an act of deliberate sabotage?”

  “I am Sir.”

  “And you still believe it was this outsider, the false deliveryman who caused the accident?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then that is good enough for me.” He stood and held out his hand for the small box that Nichols was holding. Nichols passed it over and Jerard sat back down and began looking at its contents.

  “That’s it?” Tash questioned rather loudly.

  “Yes Madam, that’s it.” Jerard looked up at Tash. “Miss Smythe-Harris, my career has been built on my ability to judge my fellow man and my intelligence and understanding of airships. I judge Mr. Nichols to be of the same ilk. If he does not suspect members of his crew to be responsible for this event, then neither do I.” Jerard returned his attention to the box he held but continued speaking. “I also agree with Mr. Nichols, the question here does not seem to be how but why.” Jerard picked up the pressure gauge. “Now this is curious. Why would our saboteur have tampered with this gauge? If he were laying in wait to open the valve to cause the accident I don’t see why this would have been necessary.”

  “I had the same thought.” Tash said.

  “As did I.” Nichols interjected. “The only reason I could come up with is that we keep a constant watch on all of the pressure gauges in the ship. One of the lads is sent ‘round to check each gauge every four hours as long as the boiler is in operation. The gauge readings are noted in a separate log. As far as I know this is standard procedure on every airship.”

  “True. But why were the boilers in operation when the ship was in the hangar?”

  “We were running tests. We always keep the ship ready to depart at a moment’s notice.”

  “Mr. Starblower’s instructions.” Tash interjected. “I had informed Captain Mather and Mr. Nichols that we would be staying in London for only a week or two before we returned to pick-up Mr. Starblower in Norway. I needed to take care of some problems in London for the company, otherwise the ship would have remained in Glasgow until we were summoned to pick-up Mr. Starblower.”

  “And who knew of these plans Miss Smythe-Harris?” Jerard asked as he replaced the gauge in the box and picked up a curious flat spring.

  Tash frowned. “Everyone to do with the airship, I suppose. That would include our Mr. Fulsome who lives in the little house on the property of hangar. He gathers together the lads who act as our ground crew when we are in London. Of course Mr. Lovelace was informed in advance of our visit, along with my housekeeper Mrs. Hoskins. But Captain Phillips, you must understand the arrival of our airship is quite an event for the local people. It is difficult to keep secret something as grand as our ship arriving on the outskirts of a well populated village. There is always a large crowd gathered to watch us land. I am given to understand some track our flight across Lon
don, following us to the hangar just to get a close look at the ship.”

  Jerard nodded absently and was silent for a few moments more before he spoke. “You know Mr. Nichols, when I was a lad I took apart my mother’s music box. I wanted to see how it worked. Unfortunately the beating I received did not deter me from taking apart the mantle clock for the same reason.” Jerard smiled briefly at the memory before looking up at Nichols. “Sir I believe you are partially correct in describing some of these parts as having come from a music box but others here...” Jerard held up one of the gears. “…have definitely come from a clock.”

  “I don’t doubt your word Sir but I do not see the point you are making. Do you believe that these bits and pieces are important?”

  “I do Sir.” Jerard replied standing up. “But right now I don’t have a clue as to why. I would like to keep this and study it with your permission. Who else has seen these aside from yourself and Miss Smythe-Harris?”

  Nichols stood and offered his hand to Tash who accepted it and stood as well. “Mr. Collins may have seen the pieces but I did not draw his attention to them, I just put them in my pocket when I found them. They have been locked in my cupboard since.”

  “Very good. Now Mr. Nichols if you are still available I would like a tour of the ship and I would especially like to see the boost engine room where all of this occured.”

  Tash was doing all she could to keep her temper in check. It seemed that Phillips had dismissed her at every turn. The fool man could not be bothered to even look at her when she spoke. “That’s a good idea.” Tash exclaimed acidly. “You two boys toddle off now and play with your toys. I have work to do.”

  Jerard was quite taken aback by the woman’s curt words. First she wanted his help now she dismissed him as if he still wore short pants. He opened his mouth to speak but caught Nichols’ wide eyes and tiny head shake. Nichols took his arm and steered him quickly out of the room. Both heard the crash of glass as they hurried away.