by Giles
“We haven’t killed anyone!”
“True. LeBlanc had to kill D'Arcey. It seems he had switched sides.”
“D'Arcey? He was....?” Tash trailed off confused. How could D'Arcey be a traitor? And was that why he disappeared? Because he was dead? How many more? Tash covered her face with her hands and reeled off the list in her head: Daniel Mather, Bernard White, Robert Carstares, Reinhart, and now Jules D'Arcey. Tash raised her eyes to Gaspe. “You are a madman.”
“No, not really cherie. Genius is often mistaken for insanity but I assure you I am quite sane.”
“Where are you taking us?”
“Really? You have not figured it out? We go for ze grand finale! To Germany! Where I expose the good Dr. Nordstrom as having defected to ze Germans. This will make ze British so angry because zey know zat Dr. Nordstrom was kidnapped by ze Germans but since ze Doctor has defected zey can do nothing about it! Voila! The Germans are embarrassed but can’t prove zey did no such zing and diplomatic relations will be completely broken down! It is a zing of beauty iz it not?”
“And no one will suspect the French.” Tash said disgustedly.
“Ah you do have it! And now, when we land at Maribo you will send ze telegram to Mr. Starblower, yes?” Gaspe walked back towards the door and jumped up on the catwalk. He turned to Nordstrom, “Come Dortsmorn.”
The old man stood up and followed Gaspe mindlessly. Tash thought her heart would break watching him and her anger flared again. “And if I do not?” She said defiantly.
“Zen I pull this lever right here and be rid of you once and for all. You are standing on the doors of a bomb bay, yes?”
Tash swallowed hard, she should have recognized cargo style doors when she saw them. Hanging her head in apparent defeat she let out a sigh. “Very well I will send your damned telegram! But at least let me look after my friend there.”
Gaspe glanced and the drugged and hypnotized shell of a man standing at the foot of the ladder below him and shrugged. “Oui, if you will behave then you can be his nursemaid. LeBlanc is tired of the task I know. Dortsmorn, stay with ze woman!” he snapped and the confused man stepped back to where Tash stood. Gazing up at the Frenchman in loathing she vowed she would make him pay!
About 8:30 am
Aboard the Soul of Discretion
Over Denmark
Jerard Phillips quietly closed the door to D'Arcey’s cabin. He pulled off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Captain?”
“Yes Mac?” Jerard replied not looking at the man standing beside him, but down the hall towards the bridge.
“Can we catch that French airship?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve been working the numbers in my head and considering that she is generally a faster ship and I estimate she has an hour’s lead on us...” Jerard trailed off thinking hard. “We are currently headed due west over land. If I remember the map correctly we will need to change direction to due south just past Roskilde. At this point we will be headed straight at Maribo. It will take us approximately another hour to get there.”
“I see the problem Captain, but what about using the boost engine?”
“It won’t work, we only have about 30 minutes of boost and that won’t be enough to catch the French ship on the ground. Using the boost now might make it possible to see which direction the scout takes off in though....” Jerard trailed off still furiously thinking. He sighed and shook his head before continuing. “No it won’t work because if we can see her she can see us and if the boost is already spent we’ll never catch her. And if D'Arcey is right about Gaspe being in charge I can assure you he is a superior airship captain and he will make evasive maneuvers to loose us. He has the advantage here. Dammit Mac! There has to be a solution. Is there any way I can talk to the Colonel?”
McPherson shook his head. “I’m sorry Captain, he probably won’t be cognizant for at least another twelve hours. Even if I could wake him it would not be a good idea.”
Jerard sighed and leaned up against the hallway’s wall; he rested his head back and closed his eyes. D'Arcey’s revelations had astounded him beyond measure. To be hoodwinked in this manner was nearly too much to bear. It was not so much that he was angry at Mr. D'Arcey it was more like he was hurt by the betrayal.
“Captain?”
“Mac, I’m sorry as you can imagine my attention is somewhat divided right now. What can I do for you Sir?”
“It is me who should be apologizing to you Sir. If I had seen it before now I would have saved us a lot of trouble.”
“Seen what?”
“Dortsmorn, it’s an anagram for Nordstrom.”
Jerard looked at Mac then shook his head. “No, that can’t be Sir. There is no ‘a’ in Nordstrom.”
“You and most everyone else on the ship pronounced the false name wrong. The name was Dorts-morn not Dorts-man.”
Jerard started laughing and had to stop himself. He realized the sound had the edge of madness to it and right now he had to keep his wits about. He straightened up and put his hand on Mac’s shoulder. “No Sir, I see no apology necessary here. I don’t think anyone could have figured that one out. But you must admit that Gaspe is a clever bastard.”
“Arrogant too.” McPherson said in disgust.
“Arrogant....” Jerard repeated softly then he snapped his fingers. “Yes arrogant! So far everything has worked to his little plan, don’t you see?”
Mac shook his head no. “No, I’m sorry Sir but it hasn’t. He did not succeed in killing the Colonel or Mr. D'Arcey. Because of this we now know...:
“But does he know we know?” Jerard interrupted.
Mac pursed his lips. “I don’t see how he could. But Sir, Mr. D'Arcey did not know Gaspe’s final destination, the place where he was going to reveal Dr. Nordstrom. I don’t see any way we could get ahead of him.”
“You’re right. We can’t get ahead of him. But we can perhaps make him wait for us.”
McPherson donned a neutral expression before he spoke. “How so Sir?”
“A telegram! A telegram from Renaud asking him to wait at Maribo.”
“But Renaud is dead.”
“Do you think Gaspe knows that? How could he? His airship was probably taking off about the same time Gyldenfeldt skewered the man.”
“Yes but even if you’re correct Captain we don’t know that Renaud and Gaspe were supposed to meet at Maribo.”
“And we don’t have to.” Jerard grinned. “Arrogance! Remember what D'Arcey said? That Renaud was as arrogant as Gaspe? Renaud would send a telegram asking the ‘master planner’ to wait for him because he is arrogant. And Gaspe will wait for Renaud because of his own arrogance.”
“His own arrogance? I don’t understand.”
“He will wait because Renaud on his own is a loose end. A detail if you will, and Gaspe in his arrogance will want all details taken care of.”
Mac nodded slowly before glancing sideways at the captain. “I guess we need go back in and talk to Mr. D'Arcey. He will know how to properly compose the telegram.”
“I’m not sure that is a good idea.”
“Captain, it is the best idea. I will vouch for Mr. D'Arcey. You have saved him once, now save him again. And I assure you he will be eager to help.”
“What do you mean I saved him once?”
“If you had not been on the ship last night Mr. D'Arcey would have been forced to go against his conscience and go with Gaspe. He would have become a kidnapper in fact and party to a murder. With him remaining on board and becoming a victim himself, he has cleared his own way to redemption.”
“Hm...maybe but he’s still a traitor.”
“Is he? Or is he a mislead soldier as you once were?”
“Mr. McPherson, you border on the impertinent.” He frowned at Mac, an expression which seemed to have no effect on the Scotsman. Jerard dropped the irritation and sighed, “But you are right. Let’s go get some help.” Jerard moved back to Jules D'Arcey’s cabin door, replaced his
cap and went in.
Jules D’Arcey lay shivering upon the bed, despite the heaped blankets surrounding him. He was staring at them as they re-entered, his eyes feverish and troubled.
“Mr. D’Arcey you have left us in a troubling position.” Phillips began. Watching the mans face pinch with shame as he spoke, he softened his tone just slightly. “But perhaps you may yet reclaim some honor if you help us to recover Miss Smythe-Harris and the good Doctor.”
“Oui Captain Phillips. I shall help you any way I can but I have told you all I know already.”
“And that has helped Monsieur D’Arcey, as it has given me an idea. But I will need your assistance in pulling it off.”
“Anything Captain Phillips. I will do anything to bring back Miss Tash.”
“May God hold you to that oath!” Jerard growled at the sick man, startling McPherson and himself with the intensity of the statement. D’Arcey blanched even further but swallowed and nodded back.
Pulling up a chair by the sick man’s side Jerard explained what he had told Mac about the difficulty of catching the French airship. Before D’Arcy could ask any questions he then proposed the possibility of tricking Gaspe into delaying his departure from Maribo to await Renaud's return.
D’Arcey lay quietly staring up at the cabin’s ceiling.
“Jules, I am asking you to stop a madman from absconding with an innocent woman. This is not a war between England and France Sir, but a matter of right and wrong. I also ask this of you for Tash. She considered you a friend.”
“Oui Captain, she is my friend and as I said I will do all to have her back. I think you misunderstand my quiet. I was thinking of what to write for you! Your plan is a good one, I am thinking that you understand Major Gaspe more than I ever could. Gaspe, he is no soldier, just a common criminal, not fit to serve the Second empire.” D’Arcey struggled to sit up. “We do this now, oui?”
“If I may, Sir.” Mac put in. “You're in no shape to write anything Mr. D’Arcey.” Moving to the speaking grill he toggled it on. “Mr. Jones to cabin 4b. And Annie, bring a pen with you sharpish!”
Jones arrived promptly shooting a dark look at Mac as he squeezed into the now crowded cabin. “Sir?” He addressed Philips.
“Mr. D’Arcey is going to dictate a telegram to you.”
Jones nodded and readied his pen and paper.
D’Arcey closed his eyes for a moment then began to speak.
“Marquise. Le commerçant est mort. Le pouvoir discrétionnaire est mis en fourrière. L'or est en prison et j'ai échappé à tous! Je voyage par train express pour le rendez-vous avec Amerie au moment où vous lisez ces lignes. J'ai aussi appris quelque chose de très intéressant sur les Allemands. Ruby. "
“I zink that this will do Captain. It should 'old his interest enough, at least for ze hour that you require to catch 'im.”
Phillips looked sharply at Jones, his schoolboy French was not up to the task of translating the message in detail. “What does it read in English Mr. Jones”
Aneurin Jones cleared his throat and read back the note translating as he did so:
“Marquise. The shopkeeper is dead. The Discretion is impounded. Gold is in prison and I have eluded them all! I am travelling by express train to rendezvous with the Amerie by the time you read this. I have also learned something very interesting about the Germans. Ruby.”
“Accurate enough for you Mr. D’Arcey?” Jones asked.
D’Arcey nodded.
“Marquise is Gaspe I assume Mr. D’Arcey?” Phillips queried.
“Oui captain we had code words for ourselves as well as most of you here. The last line is to make sure he does not risk abandoning ‘Ruby’. He is ruthless and might do so even if he thinks Renaurd is alive. But the thought of gathering even more intelligence about the Germans will hold 'im in place even if he must welcome Renaurd back. They really did not get along.”
“Good enough Mr. D’Arcey, if it works we can overtake this villain at long last.”
“Please save Mademoiselle Tash. I cannot die with that upon my conscience!” D’Arcey with a supreme effort forced himself to lean forward and grab Jerard’s sleeve with a desperate grip. Mac swept in to press the fevered man back into the soft blankets but D’Arcey held on silently pleading with Jerard for absolution.
Folding his own hand over the other man’s Phillips said. “Rest now old man, we’ll do the rest. I do not think you will be allowed to die just yet Mr. D’Arcey. I think our Tash will be most cross with you if you do. And you wouldn’t want to to disappoint a lady now would you?”
D’Arcey finally collapsed back on the bed. “Non Captain, never that, je ne pouvais pas supporter que pas maintenant...”
“See to him Mac.” Phillips urged as he turned to Mr. Jones. “I’ve got a ship to fly and you’ve got to get that message to Maribo, now!”
Jones bolted for the door and and towards the bridge.
Just after 9:00am
The Gasworks
Maribo, Denmark
“Incompetence!” Gaspe muttered in disgust as the entire workforce assigned to the Hared gasworks station stood gawking at his airship.
“I am sorry Monsieur I did not hear you.” Corbin replied politely.
“Look at them!” Gaspe gestured. “You might think they have never seen an airship before. They stand about idle and useless instead of fueling my ship!”
Corbin shrugged. “Maybe not Major. This is a very provincial town.”
Gaspe huffed and turned to go back inside the Amerie. Over his shoulder he said to Corbin. “Get those hoses connected, now. We are not here for the amusement of the locals!”
A lad broke from the crowd and shouted, “Marquis! Marquis!”
Gaspe turned in surprise but his expression quickly changed to cold indifference. When the lad got closer he replied, “What do you want?”
“I am Njord from the telegraph office in Maribo.” The boy said proudly.
“So?” Gaspe snarled.
The lad blanched and took a step back. He wordlessly held out a slip of paper.
The major snatched it from his hand saying, “I am not expecting a telegram. How do you know this is for me?”
“You are not the Marquis?” The boy asked, confused.
“Of course I am!”
Njord shrugged. “Then it is for you. It is addressed to the Marquis of the French airship Amerie located at the Hared gasworks.” He held out his hand palm up.
Gaspe glared at the boy. But Corbin understanding what the boy wanted stepped forward and dropped a few coins into his hand and murmured, “Thank you.” Corbin and Gaspe watched the youngster run across the adjacent field and leap onto a pony that had been grazing there. With the grace of youth the lad kicked the pony into a canter and moved off in the direction that was probably the town of Maribo.
“Why did you pay him?” Gaspe snapped. “He is just a peasant, it is his duty to serve.”
Corbin shrugged. He knew there was no answer that would please the Major so he did not offer one. Instead he readied himself for the slap that was sure to come. It was one of the many things he did not like about Gaspe; his penchant for hitting people was probably at the top of the list. But to Corbin’s surprise Gaspe did not slap him nor even pay any further attention to him. Instead he read the telegram. Corbin watched his face darken with fury and then suddenly the Major erupted in laughter.
“Major?” Corbin queried. His curiosity overcame his fear of impertinence.
“Ah Corbin!” Gaspe answered still laughing. “This is not to be believed! It is from our fool Renaud!”
Corbin was shocked but held his face to neutral. He was hoping the Major would give him a bit more information. It had all been carefully set up, the Danish police had been alerted to the duel and if Renaud survived he would have surely been arrested for murder. How was he able to send a telegram?
Gaspe thrust the telegram at Corbin. “Here, go to the train station and wait for Renaud, bring him back immediately! If
he has not made the train leave a message for him to carry on to Paris. It looks like I will have to do a great deal more to be rid of him.”
Gaspe turned on his heel leaving Corbin standing on the grass holding the telegram. Corbin read the typed message and chuckled. He knew the only reason Gaspe was sending him to collect the man was because Renaud was clever enough to dangle the promise of further information in front of Gaspe’s nose. Well done Renaud he thought as he headed towards the main building of the gasworks. Corbin had no idea of how he was to get to the train station of Maribo nor even where it was, but he would figure it out. Providing conveyance for a thorn in Gaspe’s side had its own rewards.
It took somewhat longer than Corbin would have liked but he finally secured a ride with the milkman who had spotted the airship and came to have a look. Corbin sat on the front seat of the wagon and politely listened as the man chatted away about the wonders of Maribo. Apparently the train station was new and the pride of the town. The man also told Corbin his life’s story about how he was an Englishman who had come to Denmark to buy a certain type of milk cow. In the market he had apparently met the love of his life and decided to stay here with her. It was a lovely story. It was so easy for Corbin to just sit back and enjoy the ride, after all it was a beautiful sunny day. The smell of fresh mown hay filled the air as wild flowers nodded their heads in the breeze. I could get used to this he thought.
A few minutes later the houses of the village began to appear and soon they were driving down the main street. The milkman had been right it was more than just a village, in fact he would call it more of a very picturesque little town. There seemed to be people everywhere and they all seemed to be nodding and smiling at the milkman. Corbin was actually disappointed when they pulled up at the train station. He jumped down off the wagon and offered to pay the milkman who, to Corbin’s surprise, politely refused. Corbin thanked him warmly and waved as the milkman drove away.
Standing outside of the charming train station; he thought about his father. He had been a man of contentment and a farmer. For the first time he understood him. I have a great deal of money saved, he thought. Perhaps I will retire from the army and come here, this is a good place. He took a deep breath of the peace of the town and purposely leaving it behind he turned to enter the train station.