by Giles
Howell smiled. "Well I have been known to have a good idea now and again Captain. Besides, when in port I have to deal with my opposite numbers in the shops and commissaries. You might be surprised what gets discussed away from the Captain's High Table. Things like ,the Germans have been getting a bit uppity on the seas lately'..." He concluded a tad cryptically.
"What Jon is trying not to say Captain is he's a digger. A great digger-up of information, when he’s given the chance." Nichols drawled looking pointedly at the Steward.
"How do we know that the... the blaggards will stay at sea Captain? What are the odds that they’ll leave the seas and travel overland?" Jones asked.
Excellent Phillips thought they are thinking. It felt good to have the officers focused with them.
"The odds...” Jerard thought out loud. “Well for one, travel overland would be a great deal slower for them. But if they have become aware, or they have been informed, that we are pursuing them by air then overland might make sense as well. So Mr. Jones, what would you do if you were leading our villains in that case?”
“I’d head straight to Aalborg and get the hel...uh, get off of that traceable ship and head overland. There has got to be plenty of mixed German/Danish families going too and fro across the new border in Schelswig. It would be good cover, Sir”
Colonel Carstares seemed to like this response and nodded vigorously. “I think the lad has a good point Captain.”
Jerard chuckled. “Which lad Colonel? I think everyone had made a valid point.” The Colonel was going to give his officers the respect they deserved.
Carstares looked back at the Welshman. “I should say Mr. Jones, it is Jones, correct Sir?”
Aneurin Jones inclined his head yes.
“Mr. Jones then. You see I believe they do know we are following in an airship and I maintain that our next clue will be in Aalborg. Its not certain but I like your idea that they will strike overland shortly after that city.”
“Captain.” Tash said into the silence that had fallen after Carstares’ statement. “You have not given us your opinion.”
Jerard smiled at Tash and sat back in his chair. He steepled his fingers and brought them to his lips as he looked at each man in the room. After a very long moment he dropped his hands back to the chair arms and heaved a sigh. “All of these theories have some merit and therein lays the problem; we are seeking a needle in a haystack. And if you forgive my pun, I believe only way to find it is to start clutching at straws."
Jerard felt rather than saw Tash's wince and smiled to himself. At least somebody got it, the rest of the room's occupants were looking at him as if he had two heads. "The straw gentlemen? Aalborg? Never mind…"Jerard sighed. “As I said Fred, I like your thinking, you bring the navigators view into this puzzle. However there is a slight flaw. You see our villains boarded that boat out of Aalborg nearly 24 hours ago. I believe they would have been able to avoid the storm that held up our flight and Caird’s voyage to Stavanger. Once again gentleman, it is time that is our enemy. If we follow your scenario Fred they would already be in the Kattagat or near to it. Thus my proposal is in agreement with Colonel Carstares. We fly straight to Aalborg where we believe the next clue to be. Now here is where I agree with Mr. Jones, we do not know if they continued on by sea or if they went overland. This is what we hope to establish in Aalborg and God willing we can do it in enough time to catch them this time.”
“Straight to Aalborg it is then Captain” Tash stated firmly.
“Here! Here! To Aalborg!” Carstares cheered.
The Colonel’s sentiment was echoed lightly around the room.
So here are my orders: Mr. Jones, I want you and Mr. Wallace to disembark at Aalborg and make inquires about rail routes and roadways heading south; also investigate ships, boats and ferries. Take with you whom ever you believe you will need. We will have to start with lists and then narrow them down for further investigation."
"Now Mr. Howell, when we land I want you to go out and dig, anything, no matter how small may be a clue. Take Paulo with you and see what you can find out about anything."
Jon Howell grinned and rubbed his hands together. "It will be my pleasure Sir."
"Excuse me Captain," Tash interrupted. "But I believe that they should take Gus with them."
"Gus?" Phillips said, confused.
"Excellent idea Tash! He's one of our riggers, Gustav deReuter, Sir. I believe he speaks the Danish tongue a bit, does he not?"
Tash inclined her head to the steward with a satisfied smile.
"Oh yes, then definitely, take him along Howell." Phillips said wondering how she knew the man spoke Danish.
"What orders do you have for me Sir?" Nichols asked eager to be in on the adventure.
"Nothing very exciting Sir, I want you to see what you can do about that number two engine. I suspect we may be in port for a least a day, that should give you time to get her flushed and operating at top capacity. I suspect we may be leaving Aalborg at a dead run, so to speak, if we are to catch our prey."
"Aye, aye Captain. We'll need the number two for the crossing but I'll have her ready to take down the minute we make landfall."
"Very good Mr. Nichols…" Jerard was interrupted by a rapid banging on the lounge door. A muffled voice from without could be made out say "Mr. Nichols? Sir, are you there please!"
Nichols strode to the door, opening it to reveal a flustered looking Airshipman Wright. "What is it man you can't barge into an officers meeting like this!" Nichols demanded most sternly.
"Yes Sir, I'm sorry Sir, but the speaking grill wasn't working Sir and you're need to come to the engine room at once Sir!" the man blathered out rapidly and breathlessly.
"I had better go Captain." Nichols stated to Phillips. Jerard nodded his ascent as the meeting was nearly done in any case. Nichols took Wright by the shoulder and steered him out of the door way. "So what happened Wright" he was heard to say as the pair retreated to the aft stairwell.
Mr Jones on the other hand had crossed to the intercom panel and was looking it over. He shook his head before speaking and seemed to be directing his words at Phillips. "It looks like a stuck call button Sir. Sorry about that I’ll have it fixed in a jiffy”
Phillips' face lost a shade of it normal color. "Are you telling me Sir that the conversation that was just held in this room was broadcast to the entire ship?"
Jones shrugged. "Doubt it Sir, we were too far from the grill for our voices to be transmitted clearly. However Sir, it would be best if you issued an order for the crew to take especial care to release the toggle switch when operating these devices. It could serve to prevent future problems."
"Agreed Mr. Jones, I stand appropriately chastised." Jerard said dryly.
"Oh Sir! I was na' meaning to…."
"No matter Mr. Jones." Jerard cut in effectively silencing the man. "Now then, gentlemen, you are dismissed, I suggest you get what rest you may. Take-off is scheduled for oh-six-hundred sharp. Miss Smythe-Harris, Colonel Carstares, if you will excuse us…"
"Of course Captain." Tash murmured. She had been congratulating herself on not laughing out loud at Aneurin's little speech. He was ever acting the part of the mother hen where his communications equipment was concerned. Heaven only knows she had been the recipient of many of his little lectures. But she had to wonder here, she had not seen Captain Phillips use the speaking grill since she entered the room, so how could he have left it on? No matter she had a more important matter to brace the Captain about.
“Oh Captain a thought occurs, another moment of your time please?”
“Yes Miss Smythe-Harris?” He replied a little wearily as he turned to face her.
“Pooh! I thought I had cured you of that Captain Phillips! Its Tash remember?”
“Many apologies Tash. How may I be of service?”
“Just a question Captain. When you said you wanted to let the crew in on our little deception I assumed you meant all of them not just the senior officers?”
“Having them all in here at once would have been impracticable madam. I took it as read that the senior officers would inform their seconds as they saw fit. But I must admit, it didn’t occur to me to spread the information to the airshipmen as well.”
“Oh dear Captain and you were doing so well! You are correct Starblower Limited is a family of sorts and every member of it has value, its their lives we’re risking as well after all. They should be told something...”
“Oh good grief madam!” Carstares expostulated “Why do we not throw all pretense of secrecy out the window and have done with it! I can just about see sharing the information with the gentlemen officers but...”
“I think you would do well to stop right there Colonel.” Phillips said firmly as Tash’s face clouded over like a summer storm. “It may not be the way you have done things Sir, but evidently Mr. Starblower has a more philanthropic turn of mind than many. If you are to be him after a fashion you will need to remember that Sir.” To Tash he added. “I apologize Tash it simply didn’t occur to me at the time, should I call the men back?”
“No Jerard, its alright, just this once. I do see the Colonels point, we will muddle through. Perhaps if any of the airshipmen become curious we can make up a story how Mr. Starblower joined us while the repairs were underway. Its only the stewards that have really seen you since you came aboard isn’t is Colonel?”
“I suppose so.” Carstares replied grumpily.
“An eventful day Gentlemen, I’m for my bed.” She allowed herself a small smile and held her arm out for the Colonel to take.
9:00 pm
Near the Gasworks
Stavanger, Norway
Slipping away from the Discretion the figure ambled easily over to the office of the gas-works and entered the rear door of the large gray building. Nearly half an hour later this same figure exited the building from the front door. He had changed out his cap for one of a simpler design. Assuming a jaunty step he headed out of the compound and strode towards the corner shop.
“God kveld Sir.” The balding shopkeeper muttered automatically from behind a lone counter as he entered the small crowded tobacconists. Rows and rows of jars made their way in a dizzying pattern up the walls to the heavy beamed ceiling. Smoke hung every where in blue white curls, the smell of it reminding him of rum and old oak barrels.
“Guten ab.. God kveld. Hvordan er deg?” he replied with an effort. “Hva rulletobakk anbefaler du Sir?” He added after a moments thought. While the fellow bustled about presenting a selection of his loose tobaccos for his inspection he fingered the hastily penned note in his pocket.
Glancing at the array of jars laid out before him he tuned out the mans sales babble as best he could and leaned in to smell each of the jar’s contents. Trying to formulate an innocent sounding query in a foreign language was a challenge even for one such as he which was why he lingered over each individual jar. Pointing out two of the more expensive brands he asked for two ounces of each. While the man weighed out his purchase he casually asked “Leverer du også min gode Sir?” (Do you deliver?)
"Ja, vi har jeg en gutt som ikke for meg" the shopkeeper replied affirmatively. This would do he thought, buy a few ounces of this man’s finest and have his delivery boy drop off the letter as he went. Congratulating himself on killing two birds with one stone he offered the letter to the man explaining that he would take it as a kindness if his boy would deliver the tobacco and drop off this message at the telegraph office as he went. The shop owner, pleased to have made such a good sale despite the lateness of the hour, easily agreed. So with a lighter step the figure left the small shop and headed back to the gas-works before he was missed.
A part of him was excited by the secrecy that his own delicate mission required, but another part of him was disquieted. Clever moves that put the enemy out of position were all and well but deliberately misleading men of honor? It was taking more getting used to than he had at first thought. As with so many generalizations it was easy to be annoyed at the British as a race. However, now that he had spent some time with these imperialists as people, he was beginning to see some of them had personal value.
Only he and the engineering crew really knew how close they had all come to being dumped unceremoniously into the North Sea. This Captain Phillips' maneuver had undoubtedly saved the ship but that ass Carstares had little idea of it. And disappointingly Miss Smythe-Harris had also no idea. Now that was a woman that pleased both eye and mind! The thought of the beautiful woman snapped him out of his musings swiftly enough; leading one so magnificent as she into danger was no easy task either. During the storm something had occurred with the woman but Nichols wasn't saying what. The man had been curiously tight lipped about it where normally he was like a proud father in his boasting at the woman's accomplishments. Too many mysteries!
Wrestling his thoughts back into his role the man headed into the gas-works manager’s office to retrieve his uniform coat and proper hat.
Chapter Four
13th of June 1870
Morning of the 13th of June
The Strand London,
England
The gaudily dressed man stepped out of the telegraph office sorting through a small pile of letters his “friend” had passed him. The ones marked from “Marquise” and “Jade” immediately caught his eye. It seemed these two would never stop chattering! Despite the fact he had been paid well for his earlier assistance, it now irked him to be acting as a simple postman. It was beneath a man of his extraordinary talents!
Control, it is all about control. He admonished himself. Knowing what these foreign fellows were about put him in a very strong position that he could use for his personal advantage later. Ripping open an envelope he scanned “Jade’s” latest missive.
Marquise.
We are all set to depart the Herring Market. The shopkeepers are here as well but are too busy competing with each other to be a nuisance. I shall be glad to finish this dishonorable business. The subterfuge begins to sit ill with me. If not for Phillips we likely would have drowned on the way! He is not the tiresome bore I had first supposed, and suspects your interest in the ship.
Just tell me which restaurant of Gold's we are to meet at.
Jade
Oh ho! The hounds were catching the scent and the hare was getting nervous were they. The thought gave him a moments wry amusement. It would be stimulating to see how Marquise reacted to these developments. Glancing through Marquise's missive next he smiled. The man had seemed to have adopted a “double or nothing” attitude in light of recent events. Bringing the unpredictable 'Gold' directly into play would be interesting to observe, especially if his cats-paws were getting nervous as well! Perhaps there was some reward to merely being in the backstage of this drama after all. Tucking his own messages firmly into a pocket he strolled back into the telegraph office to forward this one onto ‘Marquise’.
Approx 10:15 am
On Board the Discretion
En route to Aalborg, Denmark
The take off from Stavanger had gone without a hitch. The the Discretion had soared free of the mooring lines and sped towards Denmark across mercifully clear skies. Phillips had called for best speed across the Skagerrack straits and now, three hours later, the flat patchwork of the Danish countryside unfurled a thousand feet below. In the command gondola the crew was uncharacteristically silent as they had been all morning, the glorious view below unremarked upon. Phillips realized that this sobriety was an unforeseen result of his insistence of bringing the officers into the mission itself. There was a feeling of frustration that he could sense in all of them. He felt it himself quite keenly, the signs of it were easy to pick out in the crew.
Up until now the mission, such as it was, had been something of a jolly romp and heroic dash across the sea to apprehend some blighters and miscreants. But with the trail suddenly going so cold and with only one faint line of inquiry left for them the crew had sobered up.
It ha
d been Tash’s reaction perhaps an hour ago as they left the Norwegian coast that had sealed it for them all. For one brief moment the poor lass had seemed on the brink of tears as she looked out of the gondola window and, not quite casually enough, asked how long the flight to Aalborg would take from here. The slight catch in her voice and the faintest quiver in her lips had betrayed her strain and it had left an impression upon them all.
Interestingly it had been the Frenchman who reacted before all of them. Jules D’Arcey had risen to his feet and daringly taken Tash’s hand in his own and gently said. “We are making all speed Mademoiselle we will catch up to ‘zem. I...I know it...” Tash looked at him in shocked surprise and shook off his solicitous hand before leaving the bridge just a shade too rapidly for decorum.
As D’Arcey slowly resumed his station Phillips caught the haggard expression upon the man’s face. Surprised, he leaned forward to reassure the confused man. “That was well done Mr.. D’Arcey. I doubt many of us would have gotten away with it mind you. But well done Sir! You are the model of French gentility.”
D’Arcey looked at him and his haunted expression faded just a little as the Frenchman mustered his thoughts. “Oui Capitain I try, this business it is hard, Nes pas?” D’Arcey sighed heavily. “Open war between great states is one thing I understand. But this trickery, this subterfuge, I do not like it...it ez not what I entered the army for monsieur. You see?”
Phillips thought he did. “Yes far better to face your foe with sword and pistol on the open battle field than to terrorize civilians and their families, no matter their status. I share your sentiment Sir, and it is why we shall triumph. Remember the old adage Mr. D’Arcey...”
“Sir?” The man replied confused.