Sigmund Shaw: A Steampunk Adventure

by Mark C. King

  Sigmund paused and Holmes searched his memory for why that name sounded so familiar. In a moment he made the connection. He couldn’t help but blurt out, “The man found dead on Tower Bridge?”

  Sigmund nodded.

  Holmes sneered, “A bit convenient don’t you think? The man behind this, the man that could prove your innocence happens to be dead?”

  “I wouldn’t call that convenient at all. He was only one of a few men behind my involvement, none of them behind the explosion, I must note. You see, Chief Inspector, the faction of the government that is determined to start a war is real.”

  Holmes didn’t say anything, but a little side research since Sigmund’s last visit proved that there was some truth in the statement.

  Sigmund continued, “They want the amalgam cube in order to power their war machines. The advantage of machines powered by these cubes could be insurmountable.”

  Holmes interjected, “But if it was destroyed, they do not benefit. Your argument falters, Mr. Shaw.”

  “That would be true, Chief Inspector… if the amalgam cube was destroyed. It was not.”

  Sigmund paused again which allowed Holmes to think over what was just said. If any of this was true, it would indeed be a bad turn of events. Holmes said, “You said yourself that the bomb destroyed everything. The cube is gone.”

  “I believed that to be so. But I have come across some information that I previously didn’t know. Tell me, please, who were the victims of the explosion and where were they situated?”

  Holmes wasn’t sure what Sigmund was hoping to gain, but answered, “There were a husband and wife in the adjoining room, there was the two Germans in the room with the bomb, the Defence Minister also in the room, and lastly the minister’s guard outside the hotel door.”

  Sigmund nodded. “I believe you are absolutely correct. However, those were not all the people in attendance that night. There was a fourth person in the room. He came in with the Defence Minister.”

  Holmes didn’t want to admit it but he was intrigued. “And who was this fourth person that you allege to have been present?”

  “I saw his picture in the paper today. His name is Christoph Grimkraken.”

  “The new Defence Minister?” Holmes exclaimed and laughed at the absurdity of it.

  “Yes. He was there. He is the one who set the bomb and the one who now has the amalgam cube process. Chief Inspector, Grimkraken is one of the leaders of the war faction. He now has the ability, and the position, to wage the war they want.”

  Holmes, still standing, felt his legs go a little weak. He wanted to say that Sigmund was mistaken, that this was a story to cover his own guilt. However, things that were being said matched up with many things that Holmes had been hearing. Was it so absurd to think that Grimkraken could be behind this? He also had to admit that Sigmund was either completely convinced of his innocence or completely mad in order to show up in this way. Holmes had heard many false stories over the years but it was easy to see through them. This one was not proving transparent.

  “Chief Inspector,” Sigmund continued, “I have told you the complete truth. I ask that you allow me to leave. Allow me to continue to help you to gather more proof. I’m working on a lead on the location of the cubes. I’m trying to help you, help the Empire. I’ll even tell you where I am staying.”

  Holmes couldn’t believe that he was considering the offer, but he was. He could just arrest Sigmund, be called a hero, and let the judicial system handle the rest. But if Sigmund was telling the truth, then the case was nowhere near solved. Holmes had always trusted hard work and logic, but he knew enough to not completely ignore his intuition. His intuition was telling him that Sigmund Shaw was innocent. Even a clever criminal – and Holmes reluctantly admitted that there were a few – would not try the things that Sigmund had done. They would have a more believable story, simpler, nothing of the magnitude that was presented – nor would they show up at an inspector’s home.

  “Where are you staying?” Holmes asked flatly.

  “So we have a deal?”

  “Undecided. Where are you staying?”

  Sigmund paused in reflection and finally said, “I’ve been staying in the stable where my horse is kept.”

  Holmes knew that he had a man watching the stables at all times. The incompetence was infuriating. Almost as if sensing Holmes thoughts, Sigmund said, “Don’t be too hard on your watchmen. There is a back entrance that I’ve been using. It would have been near impossible to spot me.”

  Holmes wasn’t ready to let the watchman off so easy but put the thought aside as he needed to decide what he would do with Sigmund Shaw. There were definite holes in the case against Sigmund – no explosives found at his residence, he was on the outside ledge when the bomb went off, no clear motive for setting a bomb. The alternative version of events that Shaw had given him were of a scale that made them hard to believe at first glance but with a second glance there was truth to be found.

  Lowering his gun, Holmes said, “Mr. Shaw, I may regret this, but I will let you leave. However, I have conditions. You will continue to stay at the stables so that you may be found if needed and you will provide me with any proof you find. Are we agreed?”

  Holmes watched as Sigmund showed the first sign of emotion, relief. “Agreed, Chief Inspector. Thank you.”

  After Sigmund left, Holmes thought about what he just did. The most wanted man in London was in his home and he just let him walk out. He waited for the regret to start, the anger at his foolishness, but it didn’t come – another sign that he really believed that what Sigmund said was true. The war faction, the existence of the cube, and a high official that could be a murderer.

  Holmes went to bed not long after but didn’t sleep. His investigation had moved from merely frustrating to very dangerous.

  22.

  Despite the sleepless night Chief Inspector Gabriel Holmes entered his office early. The walk over in the brisk air helped wake him up and focus his thoughts. Walking through the main doors, Holmes noticed a few others had also arrived early, but not too many. Once in his office, he closed the door and sat heavily behind his desk. How does one go about investigating the Defence Minister? The answer: Very, very carefully.

  Holmes hated that he had to be so cautious. The direct approach is almost always best, but there was too much unknown to proceed that way. The word of Sigmund Shaw wasn’t strong enough by itself for the kind of action that it was leading to. No, Holmes would need a more subtle approach. Anthony Tolhurst.

  Tolhurst was a friend of Holmes from his time in the army. And Tolhurst happened to work at the Defence Ministry. A lower level employee – he was never ambitious – but as dependable as they come. With Holmes drive and Tolhurst’s lack of one, it made for an unlikely friendship, but somehow they got along well.

  Holmes hadn’t spoken to Tolhurst in a few months. Despite the fact that they got along well, Holmes wasn’t the sort to have close friends – preferring evenings alone to nights in the theatre or restaurants.

  Interrupting his thoughts, Sergeant Monroe knocked and opened the door. Holmes looked at the clock – it was time for the morning report. “Good morning Sergeant. Anything new to report?” Holmes was certain that there was not. How could there be? They had been looking in the wrong places.

  Sergeant Monroe said in a firm voice, “No, sir, nothing new to report.”

  Holmes was about to dismiss him, but then said, “Sergeant, let’s remove the watchmen. I would like them recalled and assigned back to normal duty.”

  Holmes could see the Sergeant’s angst at this request and decided to allow it, “Sergeant, please speak freely. I think you disagree with this approach.”

  Monroe hesitated, but eventually said, “With all due respect, Chief Inspector, if Sigmund Shaw is still in London our best chance of finding him is to watch his known haunts. My concern is for you, Chief Inspector, as it might look as if you are giving up.”

  Holmes was glad that Monroe
felt comfortable enough to give his opinion in this way. Holmes answered, “I appreciate your concern. I assure you that I am not giving up, far from it. But I cannot keep expending these resources on fruitless endeavors. I am developing a new approach. Allow me a little time to finalize it and I will share, but not quite yet.”

  Holmes could see that Monroe was somewhat confused and he felt bad for keeping the new details from him, but there was too much at stake. Even the trusted Sergeant Monroe could be a liability if Holmes was wrong in his belief of Sigmund.

  Monroe stiffened his back and said, “Very well, sir. I will recall the men.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant, you are dismissed.”

  Without another word, Monroe left. Holmes leaned back in his chair and stared at his door in thought. This was very unsure ground he found himself upon. There was danger of a sort he hadn’t faced before – political. Mortal danger was involved as well but that came with the profession. But to have to step carefully around a political landscape was new and frustrating territory. A wrong move and he could be crushed. If the Defence Minister was not off limits to an assassin’s bomb, a Chief Inspector would certainly not be.

  Putting these thoughts aside, he stood up, smoothed his jacket, grabbed his derby hat and goggles and headed out. He hoped that Tolhurst would have some useful information.

  The walk to the ministry was not far, being located in Westminster, and Holmes reached it in only a few minutes. Walking through the entrance he approached the reception area and asked for Anthony Tolhurst. The kind woman behind the desk took his name, asked Holmes to wait as she stood up and walked down the hall. After a minute or so she returned and told Holmes to follow her. After a brief walk they reached their destination, a door with a plate that said Tolhurst. Holmes entered as the lady walked back towards the entrance.

  Inside the small, windowless office, was a shelf full of books along one wall, and a desk that faced the door. Behind the desk was his friend, a small man with blonde hair and an unfortunately large nose. He smiled as he saw Holmes enter.

  “Holmes!” Tolhurst said, “An unexpected surprise. How are you, old man?”

  Holmes returned the smile, genuinely happy to see his friend. He answered, “I’m healthy, if that is what you mean. Other than that, things could be better.”

  Tolhurst nodded, “Right, the Bomb Bandit is still at large.”

  Holmes bristled at the name, but let it go. “I am here to see if you could help me.”

  A look of astonishment washed over Tolhurst’s face, “My dear Holmes, how could I possibly help you? Would you like me to file some papers or rewrite some briefs?”

  Holmes smiled at the humor, “No, nothing like that. I need some information. What do you know about a growing faction in the government that wants war?”

  Tolhurst’s smile dropped and his face became deadly serious. Without a word he grabbed a piece of paper and wrote something down. Finished, he gave the note to Holmes and said, “You and your jokes, Holmes. Very amusing. I actually thought you were here for my help. Tell me, are you still out near Tottenham Court?”

  While Tolhurst was speaking Holmes read the note that was passed to him:

  Not safe to talk here. Go along with my conversation. We will go outside.

  Holmes eyes narrowed. Clearly he was on to something. Almost forgetting to respond to the question that he had been asked, he finally said, “Yes, Tottenham Court. I have no desire to move.”

  “Such a bother. You know, Holmes, I was about to get some tea. Would you like to join me?”

  “Absolutely, that sounds fine.”

  Tolhurst stood up and pointed at the upper corner of his office behind Holmes. When Holmes turned to see what was being pointed at, he was surprised to see a what looked like a brass flower attached to a tube that disappeared into the ceiling. He gave a puzzled look at Tolhurst who simply shook his head and headed out of the office.

  Holmes followed him down the hall and out of the building – neither one speaking. Once outside, Tolhurst flagged a steam car, gave the driver instructions, and got in leaving the door open for Holmes. Holmes hesitated for a moment but got in. It was, after all, his idea to talk with his friend.

  As the steam car left the curb, Holmes asked, “What was that thing by the ceiling? Looked like a Victrola speaker cone.”

  “Officially it is a speaker for ministry wide announcements,” Tolhurst huffed. “But since its installment, there have been no announcements from it. The real reason is so that others can listen to what is happening in the rooms throughout the ministry. They have been installed in every office that I am aware of.”

  “Where does it lead, who monitors?”

  “Although I’ve never actually seen it, the rumor is that it goes to a listening room inside the Defence Minister’s office. Nothing happens without the possibility of him or one of his assistants, I guess, listening.”

  “My word.” Holmes sat stunned at the audacity of this creation. Regrouping his thoughts for a few seconds, he asked a question that he now already knew the answer to, “Anthony, the war faction, it is real, isn’t it?”

  Tolhurst nodded and said, “It is. Speaking openly about it is a very good way to get killed. I’m sure you are aware of Marcus Pratt. His lips being sown shut was a message about what happens to people who talk too much. Why exactly are you asking?”

  Holmes wondered how much to say. Could he tell his friend everything? Anything? He finally decided to ask, “Where do you stand with regards to this faction? Are you for the war they are promoting or not?”

  Tolhurst thought for a moment. Holmes was hoping for an immediate answer, for in his mind there was nothing to consider. Tolhurst said, “I am not with the faction. Their arguments are persuasive but I cannot support the death that the war would bring.”

  Holmes nodded, “We are in agreement. What can you tell me about them?”

  “Not much.” Tolhurst admitted. “The general behavior is that if you are not with them then you stay away from them. However, it is believed that they have some powerful allies. Perhaps even some Royals.”

  Holmes eyes grew wide at this. The Royal family could not possibly be involved, could they?

  Tolhurst continued, “A sort of fervor has been felt, more than seen, since the death of Defence Minister Sloan. It feels like something is coming to a head, and soon. Gabriel, I urge you not to get involved. Let the government hash this out. I have to believe cooler minds will prevail. To talk of war is one thing but to actually create and participate in it, is quite another. That said, this faction is dangerous…” Tolhurst eyes grew wide and then said, “The bomb. They are responsible, aren’t they. This Sigmund Shaw was working for them!”

  Holmes didn’t want to say too much, but since his friend had already guessed, he said, “I believe so. Shaw was probably an unfortunate bystander, but I do believe that the bomb was set by the faction.”

  Tolhurst, agitated greatly by the turn of the conversation exclaimed, “All the more reason for you to let it go. They will kill you, Gabriel. As a friend, I’m begging you to walk away.”

  Holmes turned away from his friend and looked out the window. He hardly registered the passing buildings and people on the sidewalks – he realized for the first time that without a doubt, Sigmund was telling the truth.

  He wondered how he should proceed. He couldn’t get Tolhurst involved any more than he already had, that was for sure. But he couldn’t just walk up to his supervisor and tell him that the new Defence Minister is behind the bombing – he had no proof but hearsay. Proof! That was something he needed and was lacking. He hoped Sigmund was having better success on that front.

  23.

  Sigmund was once again in Richard Sutton’s office. Most any place was better to spend time in than the stables. Zachary, the monkey, was sleeping in his spot on top of the shelves. Most of the morning Sigmund and Zachary had been playing a sort of tag game. There wasn’t much else to do while they waited for Sutton to return.
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  As noon came and went, Sigmund started to get antsy. He felt like he should be doing something, not just waiting on others. However, Sutton had told him to wait as he had an idea to find out where the factory, or factories, were located that were using the amalgam cube.

  With a sigh Sigmund pulled out his watch again, after 2 pm now, and felt his stomach start to protest. He hadn’t eaten anything since early that morning, back at the stables, prior to returning to this office.

  Looking up at Zachary, he asked, “You hungry?” The monkey’s little face lit up, evidently understanding something in what Sigmund said – Zachary must have been hungry as well. Sigmund laughed, “Yeah, me too. Know where any food is?”

  The monkey jumped down off the shelf to the work table below then launched himself from the table to Sigmund’s shoulder. Not sure what the monkey was up to, it took a moment to realize that he was grooming Sigmund’s hair. He was about to protest when the door opened and Richard Sutton walked in.