by John Booth
“The castle has stood for over four hundred years.”
Daisy shook her head.
“I would be happier if it had been built more recently. I am sure I saw some mortar fall from that crack up there.”
“Very well,” Dougal said as he put out his arm. “Take my arm and I shall lead you to safety, protecting you from the dangers of falling dust.”
“How are you at protection from falling slabs?” Daisy enquired as she took his arm and they headed back up to the hall.
Cam took Tom and Laura by the arms and led them to a quiet corner. Arnold backed into the corner with them, keeping watch. The band had started to play again, but nobody was dancing. People milled around the hall huddled in little groups and talking excitedly to each other. Cam informed the two of the things that Arnold had overheard.
“Hans Clerkes’ device,” Tom said as soon as Cam had finished, “It is a bomb!”
“The biggest bomb the world has ever seen,” Laura agreed.
“Well I don’t know about that,” Tom said. “It was probably just over the hill and I think some of our army’s bombs make a bigger blast.”
“Tom, it was miles and miles away,” Laura said despairingly. “Don’t you know about the speed of sound?”
“You mean like thunder and lightning?”
Laura looked despairingly at Tom and then hopefully at Cam who rushed in with an explanation.
“Tom, the time between the flash and the sound was in minutes. I wasn’t counting it out but that bomb must have gone off at least twenty miles away. Can you imagine how big a blast that must have been to still be this loud when it got here?”
Tom shuddered at the thought.
“He might destroy the whole of London. We have to stop him,” Tom said determinedly.
“Good boy,” Laura replied, patting his hand in the same way someone might reward a dog. “I knew you would understand.”
“They need Laura to extract enough dantium for the second bomb,” Tom told them as he thought the problem through. “If we escape now, they will be unable to continue.”
“That was true until you healed Giles,” Laura pointed out. “He and his colleague produced more than enough dantium for the first bomb and he will begin extracting more of it tomorrow. They don’t really need me any more.”
“I will refuse to heal this Andrew Baxter tomorrow,” Tom said bravely. “I will not help to destroy my country.”
“Giles and Baxter know nothing about the bomb, Tom,” Laura pointed out. “Would you let an innocent man die for something he didn’t know he was doing?”
Tom stared at Laura and knew she was right. He couldn’t let the man die simply because Lord McBride was using him. He sighed and shook his head. Laura smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“You always reach the right decisions with sufficient prompting,” she said affectionately.
“We could steal the second bomb as soon as it is complete,” Tom suggested. “You could convert it with a bind into something more portable and then we could vanish with it. That will give us time to get Trelawney to act before Lord McBride can complete a third.”
“The boy makes sense,” Cam said cheerfully.
“He is also quite a good bed-warmer,” Laura informed Cam, who raised an eyebrow at this news.
Arnold stood in front of them, blocking their huddled conversation from view. He saw Lord McBride turn in their direction.
“Break it up, you three. Trouble is on the way.”
“I’m afraid I must take Tom and Laura away to their beds,” Lord McBride told Arnold as he approached them. “They have a busy day ahead and need to get their sleep.”
“As I must also retire, my lord,” Arnold said in response, “If I am to join you in your laboratory tomorrow, err later this morning.”
“Goodnight to you both,” Lord McBride replied. “I trust you enjoyed our little shindig?” He did not wait for an answer, leading Tom and Laura away.
“It certainly went with a bang,” Cam said brightly to his departing back. “Arnold, do you have any idea where Daisy, Ebb or Tricky are?
Daisy walked straight into Tricky as she entered the hall. With a little effort, both avoided falling over. She saw that he and Ebb had found four young female friends to play with.
“I see you have been having fun while I have been away,” she said with a smile. “But not too much fun, I trust.”
Dougal moved Daisy gently from the door so he could enter the room.
“I must go and find the Laird,” he told her. “I have been away rather a long time and he may be annoyed about it. May I see you again on the morrow?”
Daisy looked up at the large clock on the hall wall and laughed. “You already are, it seems. I am sure that we shall meet again very soon.”
“Then I shall take my leave of you.”
Dougal bowed and hurried off into the crowd. Daisy turned to Tricky who had been waiting patiently for her to finish talking to Dougal. He pointed at the scruffiest of the four girls.
“Alice,” he said simply.
“Do they…”
“Yes,” Ebb interrupted. “They ‘ave all bin kidnapped by McBride.”
“Then you had better introduce me to your young friends and tell me all about them.”
Ebb nodded and Tricky began to talk.
A short time later, Daisy spotted Arnold and Cam as she walked through the hall with Ebb and Tricky at her side. She waved at them and Cam waved back.
“I have rather a lot of information to tell you,” Daisy told Cam as soon as they could talk without being overheard.
“I suspect that Arnold and I have rather more,” Cam replied. “Let’s us retire to our cottage and tell our respective tales.”
“A young friend of Ebb’s who is an exceptional Precog, has just told me that she has seen the world end in fire and destruction,” Daisy told them, expecting a gasp of surprise or horror.
“We know all about that,” Cam said grimly, “It is our job to make sure it does not happen.”
37. Death in the Morning
George Bentley leant out from the cab of the steam engine with his muffler wrapped tight around his face. They had slowed down to thirty miles an hour and it was just possible for him to look forward without his eyeballs freezing solid. He turned back to the men in the cab who had given him this lift to Perth and they gave him cheery thumbs-up signs.
“We’ll be coming into Perth in a few wee minutes,” the fireman shouted at him. George barely caught the words over the noise in the cab.
“She’s made good time, the old lassie,” the driver shouted as he patted the hot metal of his engine with his gloved hand.
George pulled down his muffler so he could talk.
“I must thank you gentlemen once again. I don’t know what I would have done without your kind assistance.”
“Just look after that sister of yours when you get to her. That will be thanks enough,” the driver said seriously.
George hated lying to good-hearted men, but it was part and parcel of being a spy. He had told the men that his sister in Perth had been badly injured in a fall. As her only surviving relative, he needed to get to her as soon as possible to ensure she received the best treatment. It was highly unlikely he would have managed to get a lift on a freight train had he told the men he was following a traitor.
It could be cold out in India, especially in the Hindu Kush, but George now believed that Scotland could outdo India in the specialty of being cold. He had never felt as frozen as he had on this journey. He could not huddle around the firebox as the other men did because he had to give them room to do their work.
It had been late on the previous evening when George finally found a railway man who remembered Miss Burns and her party. The man told him they had been travelling to Lord McBride’s estate in Glen Russell, to take their young charges to their aunt.
Despite spending the last ten years in India, George Bentley was fully aware of who Lord M
cBride was. He was one of the ten most powerful men in the British Isles outside of the government. George realized that if Lord McBride was involved in the kidnap of a Class A Spellbinder, then the stakes involved must be high indeed.
It had become imperative that he stop and preferably eliminate James Saunders before the man reached McBride’s estate and alerted him to the presence of Miss Burn’s and her allies. He prayed that Saunders would not have sent a telegram to McBride. However, he knew that Saunders must be an extremely cautious man to have avoided detection for so many years, so he felt there might still be a good chance to stop him.
George knew that there was no way that Saunders could have reached McBride’s estate. He was almost certainly spending the night in Perth, intending to travel on to Glen Russell in the morning.
There had been a goods train standing at Platform Four in Waverley Station. A simple enquiry to the nearest railwayman informed George that the train would be travelling to Perth during the night, arriving there early in the morning. It was due to leave Waverley Station in less than five minutes time.
He knew he should inform Trelawney of what he had discovered as soon as possible, but the train had been too good an opportunity to miss. A quick discussion with the driver and his fireman got him on board and he had been travelling in the cab ever since.
George consulted his fob watch and found it was coming up to seven thirty in the morning. This train was not due to make a scheduled stop in Perth, but the driver had told him that they sometimes stopped on the platform for five minutes to relieve themselves and to get a mug of tea from the signal box. They planned to do that this morning and he could get off when they stopped.
When the train came to a halt, George shook hands with the men and set off down the platform at a run. He had seen a telegraph office at the other end of the platform and he now had the chance to send Trelawney a message.
The old man in the telegraph office seemed to be in no hurry to take George’s business. The office had just been opened and the man seemed more interested in removing shutters from windows, and chairs from the top of tables than serving anyone.
“This is truly most urgent,” George told him and the man grumbled under his breath in reply. Almost as an afterthought, he handed George a blank telegram form.
George wrote Trelawney’s name and office address at the top of the form and then paused as he tried to think exactly what to write. If this message was read by the wrong person, it could do as much harm as good. George stared out of the window as he gathered his thoughts.
James Saunders walked passed the telegraph office’s windows with his henchmen. George almost dropped his pen in shock as he recognized him. Saunders looked incuriously into the office and his eyes went over George. George shuddered as if someone had walked over his grave. Saunders moved on with his men following behind him like trained bulldogs.
There was no time to compose a long message. Saunders could be getting on a train to Glen Russell any minute. George wrote three words onto the form and handed it to the telegraph man. He pulled out a gold sovereign and dropped it on the counter before running out to follow Saunders.
The telegraph man made as if to shout after George, but changed his mind as he looked down at the shining gold coin. The telegram would have cost pennies and a sovereign was a lot of money. He picked it up, bit it, and looked carefully at the coin before smiling broadly. He sat down at the telegraph machine and tapped out the message George had written.
George saw no sign of Saunders or his thugs on the platform. It was as if they had disappeared into the air. The bridge between the platforms was quite some distance away and the three of them had not had time to reach it even if they had run like the wind.
He began to walk down the platform looking down the gaps between the brick buildings. A black form stepped out from one of those gaps and George felt like a punctured balloon, the pain in his chest overwhelming him. He looked down to see James Saunders smiling pleasantly. Only the hilt of the stiletto knife Saunders was holding was still visible. The rest of it was buried in George’s ribs and its sharp point cut into George’s heart. George sighed and died.
“Help me, this man is heavy,” Saunders hissed. Mick and Joe rushed from the alley and helped Saunders drag the body into it.
“Who is he anyway? Mick asked as they dropped the body into the darkest spot they could find.
“George Bentley, head of MM3’s office in Northern India until recently. We had never met but I have seen his Daguerreotype many times. I think they have little to do in India, but take photographs of each other.”
“Was he following us?” Joe asked worriedly.
“He may have been and that possibility worries me. Trelawney may have ignored my advice and sent someone along to keep an eye on me. However, it is unlikely he would have known anything of our destination. I believe that we are still safe.”
“Where’s this place we’re going to, guv’nor?”
“Glen Russell, which is near Inverness. We should arrive there in the early afternoon unless it snows heavily. I’ve never met Lord McBride. However, I am sure he will welcome me with open arms when he finds out why I have come to see him.”
“We still get to top these girl’s, boss?” Joe asked anxiously. The thought of a juicy murder was the only thing he liked about this job.
“Oh yes, I have no intention of denying you that pleasure. In fact, I intend to stay and watch as you dispatch them.”
Belinda Mann arrived in the office at her usual time of quarter to eight. This was over an hour earlier than Trelawney’s time of arrival and was a time of the day when she accomplished most. Without distractions, she could file papers and write letters without interruption. She was therefore a little annoyed and even more surprised to find Trelawney’s office door open and the office lights on.
Belinda walked into Trelawney’s office to find a disheveled Sir Ernest talking to a uniformed naval officer who was looking equally unkempt.
Trelawney looked up at Belinda and smiled bleakly.
“I’m glad you have arrived, Belinda. “I was called back to the office late last night and have been here ever since. This is Commander Willis from the Admiralty who is trying to help me sort out this disaster.”
Belinda nodded at the naval officer and moved closer to Trelawney.
“Has something happened to Laura?” Belinda asked as a wave of icy fear ran through her.
“Not that we know of. Close the door and I will tell you what has happened.”
Belinda shut the door and took a seat by the young naval officer who smiled at her.
“All the people at Smee’s house are dead, the naval officers, their men and Smee’s entire household, poisoned by meat served in their evening meal. Someone was determined to make sure Smee and his people should not talk.”
“The Brotherhood?” Belinda asked.
“We think not. The bodies were discovered last night by the agents interviewing Jane Muldrow. She and they had a lucky escape as the agents decided to take her away from the house in an attempt to calm her down after a bout of hysteria. She is hysterical now, of course. I have sent her to Hobsgate as a temporary measure, until I can think of somewhere safer.”
“Isn’t this what Smee’s people feared, that the Brotherhood would kill them?”
“Yes,” Commander Willis agreed. “But we have information that points us in another direction.”
“Do you recognize this woman?” Trelawney asked. He passed a small pencil drawing to Belinda.
“This is the Vienna Witch, Annelise Shultz,” Belinda said without hesitation. “She is in Bavaria at the moment. We have a team watching her house.”
“That drawing was made to Jane Muldrow’s description of the Austrian woman who bought Laura and then threw Jane from her carriage. Jane has told our agents that this is a perfect likeness.”
“There are always a lot of bodies whenever the Vienna Witch is involved,” Belinda conceded.
&nbs
p; “The men I sent to investigate the murders broke into the Butcher’s Shop that supplied the poisoned meat. That was about four hours ago. According to their telegraphed report, the butcher, his wife and their four children were found on hooks, hung upside down with their throats cut,” Commander Willis said dispassionately. “This is not my field of expertise. However, Sir Ernest assures me these actions are typical of the enemy spy.”
“It does have her trademarks,” Belinda conceded.
“There is another, stranger matter,” Trelawney told her and handed over a handwritten report. She read it quickly.
“I don’t see what an explosion in Scotland has to do with us,” Belinda said when she finished reading. “It is terrible thing beyond a doubt, but it must surely be an act of nature, perhaps a volcano?”
“We have a Class A kidnapped by one of my own men, sold to the most dangerous spy in the world who sends her to Scotland, of all places. A few days later, part of Scotland is devastated by a mysterious explosion. Do you think these events are coincidences?”
“I would need something to link them beyond a coincidence of location, Ernest,” Belinda replied. “Scotland is a big country and this explosion took place a long way from Edinburgh or Glasgow.”
As if in answer, there was a hesitant knock at the door. Belinda opened the door to discover a runner from the front desk.
“Telegram for Mr. Trelawney,” he said, offering up a sealed envelope.
Belinda took the telegram from him and shooed him out of the office before handing the telegraph to Trelawney who tore it open.
He read it and handed it over to Belinda.
There were only three words to the message:
MCBRIDE BENTLEY STOP
Belinda passed it over to Commander Willis who looked at it in confusion.
“What does it mean?” Commander Willis asked when he saw the looks on Trelawney and Belinda’s faces.
“George Bentley has been tracing where our young Class A has gone,” Trelawney said quietly. “That message tells us that she is being held by Lord Alistair McBride at his estate at Glen Russell.”