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

Home > Other > The Hidden Man: A Phineas Starblower Adventure (Phineas Starblower Adventures) > Page 27
The Hidden Man: A Phineas Starblower Adventure (Phineas Starblower Adventures) Page 27

by Giles


  Jerard raised a finger, “Well, does he have an army?”

  Carstares looked at Jerard for a long moment. “Why yes he does; the largest private army outside of Prussia. What’s your point man?”

  “My point is that you believe Dr. Nordstrom was abducted because of his work with engines. The doctor’s work would be extremely valuable to anyone who had an army.”

  “While what you say is true Captain, I really don’t think the LensBaron is clever enough to come up with this scheme on his own. You realize what you are you saying here; that he hired Germans to abduct the doctor so that they would be blamed politically? No the LensBaron hates the Germans and blames all of his problems on them but I just can’t believe he did this. That is too twisted a scenario for anyone to buy; which is also why I can’t understand his involvement at all. I am pretty sure that he would never knowingly hire out one of his boats to a German.” Tash said thoughtfully.

  “That is too true madam, it sounds like you have made the LensBaron’s acquaintance.” Carstares said as he accepted a cup of tea from D’Arcey. “Thank you Sir.”

  “Not really Colonel, but his reputation proceeds him.”

  Carstares nodded and bit into quite a nice sandwich.

  “Remind me again why are we so determined that this is the Germans then?” Phillips asked.

  “Well thus far all of the clues have pointed us in that direction.” Carstares looked thoughtful a moment. “As a matter of fact too many clues have pointed in that direction. This has bothered me from the moment I have first heard of this case. Everything has been neatly laid out. We follow the clues one by one but never arrive in time. I really had hoped that we were in time...this time.”

  “What do you mean Sir?” Tash asked sipping her own tea.

  Carstares flipped pages in his notebook. “Here, Dr. Nordstrom abducted from the steps of the Royal Society by two men in a recognizable horseless carriage. The vehicle was never seen leaving London but was recognized in the village of Sherwood much further north. They were conveniently overheard talking about going to Scotland. Just before this Dr. Nordstrom’s house was broken into but nothing was taken. It was presumed that the criminal was interrupted in his task, but why shout at the Doctor in German? And of all things, why say ‘for the fatherland’? I would have thought he would have said something more like ‘dammit’. Then I was given this case and it was a pretty easy task to track the recognizable carriage to a dock where a fishing captain had been bragging about making a lot of money taking three men, fitting the very recognizable description as our villains to Stavanger.” Carstares snapped his notebook closed and sighed. “And now we find that they did not go to Stavanger but to Aalborg.”

  “But we don’t know that they did go to Aalborg.” Phillips said. “We only know that the ship they boarded was out of Aalborg.”

  “Oh they did. Or at least that is where we will find our next clue in this merry chase.”

  “You sound so sure Colonel.” Tash said, sounding anything but sure herself.

  “Madam I am willing to bet my career on it. Such as it is.”

  “Such as it is? What do you mean Colonel Carstares?”

  “To be blunt madam you have probably figured it out already. I was assigned to the back waters of Scotland because I insulted my superiors by speaking my mind. I had the audacity to loudly point out several mistakes that were made in a rather important case. The only reason I have this mission is that I was conveniently in place and it was thought that even I could go to Stavanger and pick up the thugs and rescue the Doctor. I tried to point out the too consistent nature of this case but I was not listened to; there is something afoot here that could possibly have huge international political ramifications. Not to mention my other suspicions’…

  All eyes were focused on Carstares, waiting for him to continue so it was a surprise when D’Arcey spoke up.

  “You think that there is someone on the…the, how do you say?...inside.”

  Carstares raised a shaggy eyebrow at the Frenchman. “Yes, I do. If it had not been for the storm we would have easily beaten that boat to Stavanger. Yet the information we got from the boat’s captain told us that before the villains even left Scotland they knew we were following them and had a good chance of catching them. They must have already known about the Discretion, and they had their information fast, very fast, in fact they must have known we were going to use an airship before I did. It is just difficult for me to believe that my superior is working for the enemy.”

  “I am sorry monsieur, that seems to be the way of things in the government of my former country as well. Too many of or our rank are expendable. And monsieur, it is hard to act when this hand,” D’Arcey paused and held up his right hand, “does not know what this hand is doing.” D’Arcey now had both hands in the air; he shrugged his shoulders to emphasize the pose. “Sometimes this hand of the left is not so...honest.”

  “Well it was Mansfield who tried to take the ship away from us...” Tash said, trailing off uncertainly.

  “Great Scott!” Jerard breathed out. “The Discretion! Who ever this is must be after the Discretion as well, there is nothing like her in the air and as Tash pointed out earlier today, the HLC is on board along with several other things invented by Dr. Nordstrom.”

  Nichols spoke up for the first time. “Not to mention Nordstrom’s modifications to the Discretion’s Woolsey engines, those are top secret.”

  “Mon dieu.” D’Arcey murmured.

  “Precisely, man.” Nichols agreed.

  “It does not matter; we still have to go after Dr. Nordstrom.” Tash said firmly, although she was still focused on Jerard’s use of her nickname. It sounded wonderful on his tongue.

  “But Miss Smythe-Harris, if all of this supposition is correct this may be a trap to steal the Discretion as well”

  “I think I am now aware of that Colonel Carstares, but what you are not aware of is that the Discretion can protect herself; she was designed as a vessel to be sold to the military, Mr. Starblower just got to her first. Not to mention, the majority of our crew are ex-military men. Isn’t that right Mr. Nichols? Captain Phillips?”

  Lance Nichols grinned and saluted Tash in answer.

  “So those are gun mounts I saw in the auxiliary bridge!” Jerard said out loud, but he was thinking about the ‘locked’ closet on the A deck, and was betting that it contained a few more guns than the one he had found in the locked room of the nose cone.

  Tash smiled and shrugged. “So what is our next move Colonel?”

  “To Aalborg. But I think that this time we will not deal with ship’s captains. I say we confront the owner of that ship and find out exactly what his part is in this little scheme.

  “You mean to confront the LensBaron directly Sir?” Phillips asked. “It seems we have but a flimsy theory to present to him. Why would he see us?”

  “Why indeed? You see, the Baron is inundated with requests for audiences from many sources. I hear he entertains them all eventually in the effort to squeeze some advantage from them, no matter how small. He will see us in turn; of that I have no doubt. So we will just have to jump ‘the queue’, as it were. Normally, it would be devilishly hard getting to see him quickly... but perhaps you can help me with a rather unorthodox request that would aid us in that regard Miss Smythe-Harris."

  To Jerard's eye it appeared as though Tash preened herself just for a moment as the Colonel was obviously having to come to her for something. Then the businesslike mask was back and the woman smiled at the older man sweetly. "Of course Colonel I am sure we can accommodate you, what is it that you need from me?"

  Carstares settled back in his seat. "The problem is the Baron's vanity, he fancies himself a potentate and as such he only sees quickly those he considers his equals - from what I have read he privately thinks none his betters but that's another matter. So in order to see him as swiftly as our mission requires, I would request that we retrieve the eminent Mr. Starblower from his holiday re
treat and impress upon him personally the need to gain us an audience with LensBaron Gyldenfeldt."

  Jerard was watching Tash's face which underwent an amazing transformation from smug assurance to bewildered dismay and back to suppressed rage all in a matter of heartbeats. He assumed that the canny woman was well and truly stung by the inference that her own formidable capabilities were not really what Carstares needed but that of her often absent employer. Feeling a devilish amusement at this himself, despite the gravity of the situation he interjected. "Ah I see, Colonel the Baron will fall over himself to entertain Mr. Starblower as a leading captain of industry! Indeed! Bravo Sir... however..."

  Tash spluttered to life before he could finish. "Oh Mr. Carstares that is out of the question! Mr Starblower left the most strict instructions not to be disturbed before he summoned the ship to fly him back to England... he.. he is engaging in a sort of spiritual pursuit Sir a meditative practice he learned of from a Nepalese fellow of his acquaintance and I..."

  "I fail to see how anyone claiming a spiritual life could fail to intercede for the life of his friend, madam?" Carstares observed dryly. "Surely once you put our straits to him he would agree?" The intelligence officer folded his hands observing Tash's discomfiture with interest. Glancing to Phillips he added. "But captain you also had a point I think you wished to raise?"

  Phillips looked at the bewildered and almost frightened expression flicker across Tash's face for a moment before answering. "...Yes, yes I did Colonel. Our enemy as ever is time. We have perhaps as much as an eight hour advantage granted to us by virtue of the Discretion's speed. However, if you will recall, Mr. Nichols stated we will need those hours to get the Discretion air worthy. To fly out and retrieve Mr Starblower will add an additional four hours to that time frame. Well, that is assuming he does not raise 'merry hell' at our unannounced appearance, as Miss Tash here seems to indicate."

  “Captain I can appreciate the time delay in retrieving Mr. Starblower. But I think it will be a moot point. I feel certain that regardless of when we arrive, our next clue will be in Aalborg. I also feel that if we are to gain any advantage then we will need the physical presence of Starblower.” Carstares fell silent for a moment, obviously thinking hard. "Perhaps a telegram.."

  "There are no..." Tash began, then stopped herself. "I shall send a telegram out directly gentlemen, but I caution you that I am unsure of the answer, my employer shall give.” Tash heaved a great sigh before continuing. “And that is assuming the telegrapher can find him swiftly."

  "Madam, I truly appreciate your esteemed master’s desire for privacy and my gratitude for his putting his treasured private aircraft at our disposal is limitless. However, our options are severely limited if we are to have any chance of recovering the good Doctor before he is taken to German soil. At this point, unless Mr. Starblower is there to get us to the Baron’s attention swiftly...” Carstares trailed off with a gentle shrug.

  Tash rose to her feet assisted by Gopal. "I see the need clearly Colonel." she stated flatly. "But some things are beyond even my control." Tash looked at Phillips, her eyes like chips of ice. "Captain, it seems we will be underway tomorrow regardless, will you personally see to the final readying of the ship."

  Phillips also got to his feet, as did the other gentlemen, when the lady moved. Realizing he had been given a direct order and had been dismissed to his task, Jerard nodded and executed a sharp salute to the diminutive woman. As he held the door for Nichol’s and D’Arcey to exit, the Colonel called him back.

  "A moment more of your time please Captain Phillips"

  "What is it Colonel? I have a ship to ready’"

  "Yes I heard that as well Captain, my apologies for keeping you. You see the flaw in all this I take it Sir?"

  Phillips thought for a moment, but was still unsure of what Carstares meant so he tried a guess. "You’re still unhappy at the thinning nature of our trail you mean? You have made that quite clear Sir."

  "Indeed, but it’s the feeling we are being played here that is raising my hackles Captain, did you not sense that as well?"

  "Frankly no Colonel I didn't. But please recall but a few days ago I had little idea I would be getting any kind of service in an airship once more and now I find myself in the midst of something quite beyond my usual area of expertise." Jerard rubbed his eyes. “Not to mention that I have been at this for nearly fourteen hours with only an hours nap.”

  "I’m sorry Captain. But please consider your suggestion that the Discretion may be an additional target. This has me thinking that it is all the more needful for us to have Mr. Starblower aboard post haste."

  Phillips frowned, "How so Sir? How would Mr. Starblower's presence aboard aid us in my own scenario?"

  "If it was known that that honored gentleman was again touring Europe openly it would be a catastrophic incident if any power were to try and commandeer this ship. If we moved about more openly under that guise it would open more doors than just the devious Baron Gyldenfeldt's. As well as the popularity of the trip acting as a protection against overt attacks."

  Jerard considered the Colonels point for a moment. "You may have something there Sir, but it all hinges on getting a noted eccentric and recluse to step into the public eye for a change. Now that is a challenge even our most redoubtable Miss Smythe-Harris will find tricky I suspect!"

  Carstares looked back at him dourly. "Then let us hope she is up to it Captain. For Dr. Nordstrom’s and indeed all of our sakes."

  Outside in the companionway Tash silently stalked forward to her private cabin with a worried looking Gopal in tow.

  "Tash? What shall we do?" The tall Indian man whispered once they were out of earshot of the lounge.

  "Improvise, Gopal improvise." Tash barged into her room and sat heavily down upon the overstuffed armchair by the porthole. "Your analysis Gopal?" she said offhandedly her mind clearly being elsewhere in thought.

  Gopal sighed. She was so difficult when like this. If he had learned one thing about Tash in their long acquaintance it was that she disliked surprises - unless she was the author of them of course.

  "I think Captain Phillips’ argument is a reasonable tactic to apply Madam. The turn around time to and from the glacier where Mr Starblower is in residence is prohibitively long to be wise in the circumstance."

  "Indeed, but that dratted Colonel makes an excellent point, don't you think? If we had Mr. Starblower actually aboard then many a door would open for us not just this villain in Aalborg. It is hard to argue that logic, and Millie's father is slipping away from us. I can feel it!"

  "Yes madam. But given Mr Starblower’s established nature it is not something we can see to however."

  "See to, see to..." Tash repeated absently as a thought occurred to her. "It is sometimes all about appearances isn't it Gopal?" Tash leaped to her feet and strode to the connecting door to Mr. Starblowers’ private stateroom. “I think the first order of business is to get that message off. No need to bother dear Mr. Jones about it I think; dictation and formal phrasing can be such a bore sometimes."

  A ghost of a grin appeared on Gopal’s face as he began to guess her idea. How would the dear Captain and the perfectly proper Colonel feel should they know that Tash had a key to Mr. Starblowers’ private chamber? Foolish of them really, if they had not guessed by now that the delightful Miss Smythe-Harris was much more intimate with Starblower than being merely his secretary general...

  7:45 pm

  Discretion’s Bridge

  Municipal Gasworks

  “Try it again Mr. Wallace.” Jerard said somewhat grimly, as he stared at the ground tantalizingly below them. Jerard and Mr. Wallace trying desperately to set the Discretion down in the fueling yard. They were having a devil of a time of it with the sudden crosswind that had come up from nowhere. Given their proximity to the large silos of pressurized gas, Phillips could not bring himself to have Mr. Landover fire the ‘harpoon’, despite the Airshipman’s assurances of his aim.

  “Wha
t is that infernal noise?” Jerard shouted as a constant clicking noise had finally gotten on his nerves. He had to get some proper rest soon, so did the rest of the crew. If they could just get the ship safely down and hooked to the refueling station they could all finally relax.

  “It’s the telegraph Sir, a message coming in.” Aneurin Jones said from his desk, a set of huge ear pieces wrapped about his head.

  Phillips wondered if the man knew how ridiculous he looked in his electronic ear muffs. Jones had already explained that they we some sort of listening device and he had been listening to some tests on the lightning shorted communications between the forward sections and the ship’s engineering section. He now pulled them down to hang around his neck as he lifted a lid on the top of his desk. The clicking grew louder as Jones turned a crank and up from the hole in his desk popped what looked like a typewriter, with a few extra parts. The keys were moving by themselves.

  “What the?”

  Aneurin Jones grinned. “This is my invention Sir. It’s a telegraph.” Jones paused in his explanation and inserted another piece of paper behind the platen so it would roll up behind the one already moving out of the top of the writer.

  “I hardly think you invented the telegraph Mr. Jones.”

  Jones laughed. “True Sir but I did invent this machine. You see the keys are wired to translate the letters to and from Morse code.”

  “I see.” said Jerard, not really seeing at all.

  “It’s actually quite simple Captain, you see the electric pulse for the letter S, as an example, is three short bursts, when these three bursts occur the letter S key is triggered and depresses the S key on the writer, thus the machine types the letter S on the paper.”

  Jerard blinked several times, not really sure of what Mr. Jones was going on about. But since the man was so pleased at his own work, he answered with what he hoped was appropriate: “Amazing! That is quite fantastic Sir.”

 

‹ Prev