“We must telephone the Metropolitan Fire Brigade. My life’s work lies within that building. It cannot be sacrificed to this conflagration that Professor Röntgen’s mania has brought upon us.”
Alfie nodded his head as the street lights along Carlton House Terrace flickered in reply. “And Inspector Drake of the Metropolitan Police Service as well,” he said. “I think he will have some questions to ask about exactly what Professor Röntgen has been doing here.”
He glanced down again at the basement windows, the orange glow growing brighter now. Alfie could only hope that there would be enough evidence left to exonerate Monty and Penelope.
XXVI
The Kaiser’s men threw open the door of the cage, the jaundiced glow of their lanterns illuminating their glowing green skin. The radiant boys’ dark disguises had now been discarded for the uniforms of the Imperial German Navy, and as the leading figure stepped into the cell, the freshly stitched gold stripe on his sleeve showed his recent promotion to the rank of midshipman.
“If you and your family would be kind enough to accompany us, Your Majesty, we will escort you to your quarters aboard the Hohenzollern. The Kaiser has made every preparation to ensure that you will have a comfortable voyage.”
Standing in the shadows, Monty hesitated, the fear of discovery flashing across his eyes as the midshipman awaited his reply.
There was a moment of silence, then Queen Alexandra stepped forward, taking Monty’s arm in her own.
“Come now, Bertie,” she said with a slight tremor in her voice. “We do not wish to keep your nephew waiting.”
With a stiff nod of agreement, Monty led the Queen out of the cell, the lantern light picking out the sheen of the medals pinned to his chest. As the rest of the royal family trooped out behind him, the young princes and princesses carried by their mothers, the midshipman cast a glance back into the shadows of the cell where a slumped shape could just be glimpsed beneath a blanket.
“Sleep well, Mr Flinch,” he said, locking the cage door with a clang.
Ahead of him, Monty shivered as the Queen clung to his arm. The radiant boys marched in step with the royal party, no chance of escape from their escort. The gleam of their lanterns illuminated the tunnel as it slowly twisted upwards, the passageway hewn from the dripping black rock, hundreds of years before. They walked in silence, the muffled cries of Prince Henry lying swaddled in the Duchess of York’s arms the only sound that could be heard, apart from the tread of their footsteps.
In the midst of the royal party, Penelope was hidden between the towering figures of the Dukes of Connaught and York. As the slope of the tunnel began to incline, she could hear the creaking of ships, shifting in their sleep, and in place of the stale subterranean air she felt the first whispers of a breeze on her face. They were nearing the river now.
The midshipman’s voice echoed from the rear.
“You must board the Hohenzollern without delay. Do not attempt to flee, Your Majesty, unless you wish to find yourself taking residence at the bottom of the Thames.”
The mocking laughter of the radiant boys followed Monty’s shaking footsteps as they emerged into the night. Stepping out of the tunnel behind him, Penny risked a glance up at the sky. Dark clouds were scudding across the moon, its broken beams playing upon a narrow pathway of grey, glittering water, whilst on either side of this, the river was black with dozens of hulls, their funnels and masts as thick as a forest. But amidst these ships, one vessel stood resplendent, her gleaming gold and white paintwork stretching along the quayside, twin smokestacks the colour of burnished brass silhouetted against the sky. The pride of the Imperial German Navy: His Majesty’s Yacht Hohenzollern.
Beyond this, Penny’s gaze traced the shape of the Tower wharves, the distant figures of red-coated sentries patrolling their gravelled walks. Too far away, she saw with a scowl, for any chance of rescue from that quarter. The Tower’s turrets and battlements peered out over the water and Penelope prayed that Amsel had been able to guide the King and Princess Victoria safely through its walls.
The Kaiser’s marines hurried them towards the ship’s gangway and, with Queen Alexandra still clinging tightly to his arm, Monty began to ascend the steps.
As they boarded the ship, Penelope held the fur trim of her robe across her face, seemingly to protect herself from the chill of the night air, but in reality hiding the pale-green glow that still shone from her features. From the quayside she heard the rattle of a heavy chain suddenly let go, followed by the clicking of the capstan-pails as the ship heaved anchor. The deck was alive with scurrying sailors, but at the sight of the glowing figures of the Kaiser’s guards the sailors backed away superstitiously and the radiant boys escorted the royal retinue below decks without a word.
As the ship rolled in the swell, Penny reached out a gloved hand to steady herself, but found her fingers grasping empty air. Stumbling forward, she almost fell into Monty as he reached the bottom step, the fur trim of her robe falling from her face for a second. As the actor turned in alarm, panic in his gaze as he glimpsed her glowing features, the sound of a German voice rang out from the corridor.
“What are you doing?”
The midshipman stepped forward, wary of any attempt to escape. As Monty’s bulky frame shielded her from his view, Penny pulled up the fur trim to mask her face again.
“I’m terribly sorry,” she replied. “I’m afraid that I haven’t quite got my sea legs yet.”
With a snort of amusement, the bumptious midshipman turned back to lead them along the corridor.
“Do not worry, Your Royal Highness,” he called back over his shoulder. “You’ll have plenty of time to find them on the voyage home.”
The broad corridor was carpeted in a thick silver-grey pile, whilst maple doors adorned with ivory handles branched off to the left and to the right. If it wasn’t for the rolling motion beneath her feet as the ship got under steam, Penelope would have sworn that she was walking through the hall of some grand manor house instead.
“These are the guest suites,” the midshipman continued. “Each cabin has been prepared with everything that you will require.”
With typical Teutonic efficiency, the guards escorted each branch of the royal family tree to their own stateroom: the Duke and Duchess of York with the young princes and princess; the Duke of Connaught; Princess Louise; Prince Alfred; and the Duke of Albany – every single person ahead of Kaiser Wilhelm in the British line of succession now imprisoned in the gilded cage of his royal yacht. And outside every door, the radiant boys stood guard in silence. No chance of escape beneath their gleaming gazes.
The midshipman flung open the door to the final stateroom. With a respectful nod he gestured for the last of the radiant boys to usher Queen Alexandra, Monty and Penelope inside.
“I do hope the accommodation is to your satisfaction, Your Majesty. I am sure you will find it more comfortable than your recent room at the Tower.”
Monty stifled a gasp as he entered the stateroom. Luxurious armchairs and sofas were arranged on a magnificent Persian rug, whilst a burnished mahogany table was laid with military precision. Between the floral decorations and candelabras, Penny could see a sumptuous feast: plates laden with cooked meats, silver tureens of vegetables and breads of every description. The grand stateroom was decorated with fabrics and furnishings of the most ostentatious design, whilst paintings of famous naval victories hung from the walls.
“The voyage to Prussia should not take very long,” the midshipman informed them from the doorway. “The Kaiser sends his apologies that he could not welcome you aboard in person, but he is currently at the ship’s helm as the Hohenzollern navigates the Thames. The fog is rising and this waterway can be a treacherous one for a ship of this size. Once we reach the North Sea, however, he will join you to discuss the matter of his coronation.”
With a clipped nod of his head, the midshipman closed the cabin door behind him, the click of a key in the lock reminding them all that this flo
ating palace was their prison. As Penny’s gaze roved around the cabin, searching fruitlessly for an escape route, Monty strode towards the banquet table. He reached for a crystal decanter that was filled with a dark-burgundy liquid and with a trembling hand poured a generous measure into an empty goblet. Taking a heavy gulp from the glass, Monty flopped down onto the nearest sofa.
“We may as well make ourselves comfortable while we await our discovery,” he declared. “Perhaps once Kaiser Bill realises that the King hasn’t actually joined him on this pleasure cruise, he will return us safely to port.”
Penny stared back at Monty, unable to believe his optimism as she watched him take another gulp from his glass. She remembered the cruel gleam in the Kaiser’s eyes as he consigned Monty to the Tower. Somehow she didn’t think he would react so calmly to finding him here in the royal guest suite. But before she had the chance to voice her concerns, the sound of a sob turned Penny’s gaze towards Queen Alexandra.
Now perched on an armchair facing Monty, the Queen fixed him with a plaintive stare.
“You do think they have made it out of that place, don’t you, Mr Flinch?” she asked, gulping out the words between hiccuping sobs. “The shame of exile will be hard enough to bear, but I could not countenance the thought of losing dear Bertie and darling Toria too.” As this final sentence escaped her lips, the Queen’s features crumpled as she wept fresh tears of imagined grief.
With panic in his eyes, Monty turned to Penelope in search of support. Casting all questions of etiquette to one side, Penny knelt in front of the Queen, reaching inside her own pocket to extricate her handkerchief before proffering this to Her Majesty. Delicately plucking it from Penelope’s phosphorescent fingers, the Queen blew her nose with a tremulous honk.
“You are so kind, my dear,” she sniffed. “And brave, too, for one so young. I imagine you have inherited your valour from your uncle.” Folding her hands to restore her composure, Queen Alexandra lifted her gaze to Monty again. “I fear you will need every ounce of your bravery, Mr Flinch, when Wilhelm discovers your deception. My nephew is a callous and capricious man, and when he finds out that his Uncle Bertie has escaped to reclaim his throne, I dread to think what his reaction will be to the man who has taken his place. We are heading for the open sea and Wilhelm will not feel bound by the laws of the land, or indeed any notions of common decency and fair play. I shudder to think what he is capable of.”
Behind his beard, Monty paled, his ashen complexion a striking contrast to the fading glow that still marked Penelope’s skin.
Below them in the depths of the ship, Penny could feel the throb of the engines as they slowly picked up speed, the royal yacht navigating her passage around the river’s curves as she steamed east with the tide. Her mind raced at the same quickening rate, desperate to find a way out of this perilous situation they found themselves in: imprisoned, their discovery imminent and no prospect of rescue as the radiant boys stood guard outside the cabin door. She didn’t even know if the King had escaped from the Tower alive, let alone made it to 10 Downing Street to raise the alarm.
A sudden resolve stole over Penelope. “Do not worry, Your Majesty,” she said. “We will not stay here to await the Kaiser’s displeasure. My uncle and I will find some other way of raising the alarm before the Hohenzollern leaves London. The Kaiser must not have the opportunity to use your captivity as any kind of bargaining chip to wrest the Crown from the King.”
Queen Alexandra stared up at her open-mouthed, astounded by Penny’s clear thinking and resolute spirit.
“You have divined my very fears, dear girl, although I was loath to speak them. I worry that there are no depths to which Wilhelm will not stoop to realise his hateful scheme – even to the extent of harming his own flesh and blood.”
Monty was also staring at Penny, but with an uneasy look in his eye.
“But how are we supposed to raise the alarm?” he asked, gesturing towards the stateroom door. “There are guards stationed outside whose very touch would turn us into ghosts just like them.” The actor shook his head in resignation as he drained his goblet.
In answer to his question, Penny strode towards Monty. Concentrating her mind, she took the glass from his hand and set it on the table beside him.
“What are you doing?” he blustered.
Penelope took hold of his hand, Monty moaning in fear as her luminous fingers meshed with his own; flesh and bone melting together as Röntgen’s rays transformed them both.
“What is happening to me?” the actor breathed as a shimmering glow crept across his skin. He struggled to free himself from her grasping hand. “Please, Penelope – this time you ask too much of me. Spare me this, please.”
“I need your help,” Penny replied, refusing to relinquish her grip. “I cannot do this alone. We have to raise the alarm before the Kaiser discovers us here. For King and country, Monty, will you help me, please?”
Behind his agitated gaze, something stirred in Monty’s eyes: a faint spark of patriotism shining through a cloud of red wine and cowardice. After what seemed like an age, he finally gave her his reply.
“What do you want me to do?”
XXVII
“Help me, please!” Queen Alexandra rapped sharply on the cabin door. “My husband is feeling quite unwell.”
In reply, the heavy door remained locked, but as a luminous face emerged from the other side, the Queen quickly drew back in fear. The guard’s glowing green gaze peered through the wood as if it were merely water. The sailor saw Monty lying slumped against the mahogany table, his head resting insensibly on his chest whilst a burgundy stain spread from his upturned wine glass.
“Is this another of the Kaiser’s tricks?” the Queen demanded as the radiant boy slipped into the room. “Not only to steal my husband’s throne, but to poison him as well?”
With a look of alarm, the sailor hurried towards the unconscious figure he believed to be the King, not noticing Penelope as she emerged from the shadows behind him. As he lifted Monty’s head from his chest, the young sailor let out an oath of surprise as Penny brought the crystal decanter down on his head with a crack.
“Bravo!” Monty cried out, scrambling to his feet as the sailor slumped to the floor in his place. He watched as Penny set the crystal decanter back on the table before stooping over the sailor’s unconscious form. “But I do hope you didn’t spill any of that wine, Penelope. It wouldn’t be worth wasting a drop on that blighter.”
Glancing up, Penny cast the actor a reproving glare.
“I did not wish to harm him,” she said, pressing her fingers to the sailor’s neck to reassure herself that he still breathed. “He is as much a pawn in this game as we are, but there was no other way to get past him without discovery.”
Reaching down, Penelope lifted a ring of keys from the sailor’s pocket. As Queen Alexandra watched her with a pensive frown, she rose to her feet again.
“As soon as the coast is clear, Your Majesty, you must release your family and head for the lifeboats,” Penelope said, presenting the keys to the Queen. “My uncle and I will create a diversion to draw the guards from their posts. It is your only chance of escape.”
Her expression grave, Queen Alexandra nodded her assent.
“But how will you divert the guards?” she asked. “There are so many of them and you are only a girl.”
“I am a young lady of many resources,” Penny replied, the pale lustre of her skin gleaming beneath the lamplight. “I am sure that I will be able to find a way.”
She turned to face Monty, holding out her hand towards him as the actor trembled with fear.
“Are you ready?” she said.
With a gulp, Monty nodded his head, reluctantly taking hold of her hand.
“Are you sure about this, Penelope?” he said, his voice quavering as the same shimmering glow enveloped him too. “This quickening of the blood is almost more than I can bear.”
“Just concentrate your mind,” she replied, keeping ho
ld of his hand as they stepped towards the door. “The fate of the British Empire depends upon it.”
Before Monty had the chance to protest again, Penny plunged them both forward. She felt her mind whirl as they slipped through the door, fire racing through her veins as her body vibrated in time with the atoms around her. Before she could even make sense of these sensations, they were on the other side, Monty wheezing as they emerged into the corridor outside.
“How do you bear this?” he moaned. “I feel as though my very soul is about to explode.”
Penelope hushed him, silently gesturing towards the figures of the radiant boys standing guard all along the corridor. Not one set of eyes were turned in their direction.
“This way,” she hissed, keeping Monty’s hand in her own. The two of them hurried towards the stairs at the corridor’s end. As they crept out of sight, Monty turned towards her, a cold sweat soaking his brow.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“To the engine room,” Penelope replied. “We have to stop the ship before it leaves the Thames.”
Below her, she could hear the thud-thud of the engines as the ship slowly turned, the river straightening as they steamed past the East India Docks. Keeping a tight hold of Monty’s hand, Penny hurried down the stairs, the silver-grey carpet giving way to polished steel as they reached the lower deck. A long corridor stretched out in front of them. Penelope peered fearfully ahead as the clanking din of the engines beckoned her on.
“Where are the sailors?” Monty asked, glancing timorously into an empty mess room as they hurried along the corridor.
“Most will be above decks now,” Penny replied. “If the fog is rising, the Kaiser will have lookouts posted at every vantage point to ensure our safe passage.”
Peering past every door, she glimpsed naval stores and baggage holds, workshops and cramped compartments, every one of these rooms deserted to prove the truth of her words. The endless rumble of engine noise was growing louder still, its ceaseless thrum reminding her of the strange vibration that still pulsed through her veins. Penny glanced down at her hand, the pale lustre of her skin seemingly starting to fade. Amsel had said that the effects of Röntgen’s rays were only temporary. She could only pray that they would last for a little while longer.
The Black Crow Conspiracy Page 16