TELEGRAM FOUR: Your last message was rather testy. The iceberg was perfect. Lemurn didn’t have to cover his tracks. There were no tracks. Apparently Ralph and Rachel were shouting and begging for him to return. Even I would have paid money to see that.
TELEGRAM FIVE: I see your point. I don’t think they retrieved the dinghy the Helmsleys used to get onto the iceberg. Don’t worry. The dinghy won’t let them get very far. I’m on my way to the Society to place bets.
TELEGRAM SIX: Lemurn returned to port. I took him and his crew to Suplard. He didn’t suspect any foul play. Lemurn and his crew were wonderfully distraught.
TELEGRAM SEVEN: I saw the story in the Doldrums Press. Other papers are picking it up. It’s a real circus.
TELEGRAM EIGHT: You won’t believe who came into Strait of Magellan today. It was the grandson. He had two friends with him. He said he was heading to Antarctica to find his grandparents. This is not an update. I just thought it would give you as good a laugh as it did me.
TELEGRAM NINE: How is it possible? It’s been two years!
TELEGRAM TEN: Why aren’t you responding? I’m going to Helmsley House now. I’ve heard rumors they’re back. I shouldn’t have to ask, but you’ve destroyed this correspondence, haven’t you? I’ve destroyed yours as per our agreement.
Archer shuffled through the telegrams again and again, his heart sinking. Mr. Birthwhistle’s name wasn’t anywhere. These only proved Mr. Mullfort was guilty. That was why Mr. Birthwhistle had kept them. And that was why Mr. Mullfort wanted them.
But they’d been inside Mr. Birthwhistle’s desk. Wasn’t that proof enough that Mr. Birthwhistle was involved? Should Archer put them back and run to get Mr. Suplard so he could see for himself? But what if Mr. Birthwhistle sent someone to get them before Archer returned with Mr. Suplard? He was holding proof that his grandparents didn’t want to vanish—proof that the iceberg wasn’t a hoax. He couldn’t let it out of his sight. He couldn’t risk losing it just to prove Mr. Birthwhistle was guilty. He wrapped the letters back into the fabric, grabbed the bundle, and left the office.
Archer broke into a sprint, running as fast as he could. When the door to the Grand Hall came into sight, he closed his eyes, tucked his shoulder, and plowed in.
♦ A GRAND ENTRANCE ♦
Whatever had been happening inside the Grand Hall came to an abrupt halt. Archer’s entrance sent a thundering echo through the room. Before him were rows of seats stretching up to the stage, and every single occupant of those seats had turned around, all staring at him in perfect silence. If you’ve ever stood before a large crowd of strangers, all gawking at you, then you’ll know exactly how Archer felt.
“These Greenhorns are out of control!” someone shouted. “What’s Malmurna been doing to them?”
“Is he a Greenhorn? I didn’t recognize the other two, and I don’t recognize that one either.”
The other two? Had Oliver and Kana already been here?
Archer looked at his grandparents, who were seated as far away as it was possible to be.
“I recognize this one. He’s the grandson.”
“Whose grandson?”
“My grandson!” Grandpa Helmsley rose to his feet. Grandma Helmsley did, too.
“But what is he doing here, Ralph?” Mr. Suplard demanded, squinting at Archer from the podium. “And why is he impersonating a Greenhorn?”
Only Archer could answer that question, but he stuttered. “I’m . . . well . . . I—”
“Speak up, boy!” Mr. Suplard insisted.
Archer swallowed. This was his moment. But now that he was in it, he was struggling.
“He’s a lunatic like Ralph and Rachel!”
“Order!” Mr. Suplard shouted. He banged his gavel on the podium and then pointed it at Archer. “Attendants, escort that boy out immediately.”
Archer peered over his shoulder as two attendants pushed off the wall.
“Don’t you lay a hand on my grandson!” Grandma Helmsley warned.
“Not even a finger!” Grandpa Helmsley added.
The attendants paused.
Archer’s head was spinning. He wasn’t sure if anyone would believe he’d found the telegrams in Birthwhistle’s desk, but what would happen to Benjamin if they did? Why did it have to be Benjamin’s father? He wished Mr. Mullfort had acted alone. But he hadn’t. Mr. Birthwhistle had orchestrated everything. That was the truth. Archer held the telegrams above his head.
“Proof,” he said. “I have proof.”
“What’s that?” Mr. Suplard asked, looking to his Deputies. “Did anyone catch what he said?”
“I think he said he has proof.”
“Proof of what? What’s in your hands?”
Archer hesitated again.
“For heaven’s sake, boy,” Mr. Suplard cried. “Either state your purpose for being here or get out.”
“It wasn’t a hoax,” Archer said, much louder now. “The iceberg wasn’t a hoax. My grandparents aren’t crazy. Mr. Birthwhistle is lying. These telegrams prove it. They were hidden inside Mr. Birthwhistle’s desk!”
The hall fell deathly silent. The only sound to be heard was that of a cane tapping the floor as Mr. Dalligold slowly made his way to Archer.
“Come forward, Master Helmsley,” Mr. Dalligold said with his regal air.
The hall remained silent as Archer stepped before Mr. Dalligold and presented the telegrams. Mr. Dalligold secured his glasses and carefully unwrapped the fabric. He lifted the telegrams one by one, and Archer watched his lips moving as he silently read them all.
“Well, Dalligold? What are those?”
Mr. Dalligold removed his glasses. His eyes, twinkling at Archer, seemed to shout, You’ve done it, Archer! You’ve done it! But all Mr. Dalligold did was wink and clear his throat.
“What I have here is . . . Mr. Suplard, a brief recess, in light of new evidence. Every member must read these telegrams before any vote is to take place.”
Mr. Suplard raised his gavel. Mr. Birthwhistle sat perfectly still. He’d shown no emotion during any of this, and he wasn’t showing any now.
“Keep to my side, Archer,” Mr. Dalligold whispered. “We’re about to be swarmed.”
“I will consent to a recess,” Mr. Suplard announced, and crashed his gavel on the podium.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
♦ A LONG JOURNEY HOME ♦
Ten telegrams were set on a heavy oak table in the Elk Horn Room. Archer stood in the corner with Mr. Dalligold, watching an unending line of Society members cycle past them and waiting to see his friends. He still hadn’t had a chance to speak with his grandparents. When Mr. Suplard crashed the gavel to suspend the meeting, he and Mr. Dalligold were immediately surrounded. But Mr. Dalligold never left Archer’s side.
Beatrice Lune approached the table. Her nose crinkled as she smiled at Archer. A moment later, Oliver and Kana rushed in, laughing and looking like the best of friends.
“You made it!” Archer said.
“We didn’t think Mr. Mullfort would,” Oliver replied, with quite a spring in his step. “We thought he might have a heart attack.”
“He’s really out of shape,” Kana agreed. “But he did keep up all the way to the Grand Hall.”
“You were in the Grand Hall?”
“On the stage, actually,” Oliver said. “It was a bit awkward. Mr. Suplard certainly wasn’t happy. We didn’t realize the door led to the stage until we were already through it. Mr. Mullfort shot in after us.”
“And you’ll never guess who was on the stand, Archer,” Kana said. “It was Mr. Bray! He was testifying about the journal. Then Mr. Mullfort pulled a new journal from his pocket and held it up.”
“But I thought Mr. Mullfort took Mr. Bray.”
“We took Mr. Bray,” Mr. Dalligold said. Archer had forgotten he was there. “Once the news of the forged journal leaked, we had to keep him safe. Mr. Mullfort showed up that same evening, broke into the shop, and pocketed another journal. It was
our mistake. But now that you’re in good hands, Archer, I must see to a few things before this Inquiry is brought to a close.” He smiled at them in an odd way. “I must also check in on two friends who were nearly run over earlier this evening.”
They all went bright red.
“We can explain,” Archer said.
“I look forward to it,” Mr. Dalligold replied, still smiling as he made for the door.
“Where’s Adélaïde?” Kana asked.
“There she is.” Oliver waved furiously.
Adélaïde limped past the table, staring at the telegrams. Oliver gave her a hug, then looked embarrassed about it.
“Did something happen to your other leg?” he asked casually.
“It’s a long story,” she replied, eyeing him. “But I’m glad to see you’re still alive, too, Ollie.” Oliver soured. Adélaïde smiled. “Not feeling the Doxical Powder anymore?”
The Doxical Powder had indeed worn off during the chase, but if Oliver said that, he might not be able to explain the hug.
“Where did you find them, Archer?” Adélaïde continued.
“In Mr. Birthwhistle’s office. The place Mr. Mullfort had already checked and wouldn’t check again.”
“Speak of the devil,” Oliver said.
Mr. Birthwhistle strolled into the Elk Horn Room as though he hadn’t a care in the world, waving and shaking hands as he made his way to Archer.
“On behalf of the Society, Archer,” Mr. Birthwhistle said with a serene smile, “I would like to thank you for preventing us from making a terrible mistake.”
“Why are you thanking him?” Oliver asked. “He just proved you’re guilty.”
Mr. Birthwhistle seemed genuinely surprised. “You mean he proved Mr. Mullfort is guilty?” he asked, rubbing his beard.
“Both of you,” Kana said, pointing to the telegrams.
“If I’m not mistaken,” Mr. Birthwhistle replied, glancing at the table, “my name isn’t anywhere on those.”
Oliver, Adélaïde, and Kana turned to Archer, but he wasn’t going to explain it now.
“Of course it’s clear Mr. Mullfort was working with someone,” Mr. Birthwhistle continued.
“We know it was you,” Archer said. “You buried them in Greenhouse Four and then moved them to your desk.”
Mr. Birthwhistle held out his hands as though expecting them to put him in cuffs. “Do you see any dirt? They look perfectly clean to me.”
“They’re only clean thanks to Mr. Mullfort,” Archer said. “You used him.”
Mr. Birthwhistle’s face froze.
“My dear boy, as the former Director of Transport, I can assure you there are many items one uses to ensure a successful expedition. Take a life raft as an example. Your grandparents survived the iceberg thanks, in part, to a life raft. I’m told you once survived a pack of tigers thanks to a life raft. If I’m not mistaken, you bought that very life raft from Mr. Mullfort. I find that rather amusing. I’ve always thought Mr. Mullfort himself would make a fine life raft.”
Mr. Birthwhistle smoothed his vest and straightened his already perfect tie.
“Now that’s quite enough for this evening. Tomorrow is a new day and with it, new opportunities. I hope you will join us. The Society will greatly benefit from having a Greenhorn as clever as you.”
“Clever, yes,” Mr. Suplard said, waddling over with papers and folders. “But we mustn’t tell lies, Master Helmsley.” He turned to Mr. Birthwhistle. “One of my Deputies received an anonymous tip. Mr. Mullfort hid the communications in Greenhouse Four. We found the hole and the tin.”
“Do we know why he did it?” Mr. Birthwhistle asked, placing a concerned hand on Mr. Suplard’s shoulder.
“Money. And this is precisely why I’ve said that the betting on vanished members must end. We have no leads on the accomplice, but my department has already begun investigating.” Mr. Suplard’s gaze sharpened. “And I don’t believe I’m out of line when I say, in the future, you are not to speak to any newspaper until my department has all the facts. The Society is of many minds, but when our president speaks, it must reflect the whole.”
Mr. Birthwhistle bowed slightly. “I do apologize, Mr. Suplard. But you know it was never my ambition to become the Society’s president. I’ve devoted much of my life to the Order of Magellan.”
“It’s a relief to hear you say that.” Mr. Suplard sighed. “I was afraid I’d have to suggest it myself. Had you not been so public about everything . . . Regardless, yes, your decision must be announced.”
Mr. Birthwhistle frowned. Archer saw it. They all saw it. Mr. Birthwhistle actually frowned.
“What decision?”
“Your resignation, of course,” Mr. Suplard said, moving to the door. Mr. Birthwhistle hurried after him. “Your lack of discretion was troubling, but this decision reflects well on you. I will notify our members when the Inquiry is brought to a close.”
Adélaïde, Kana, and Oliver smiled at one another. Archer didn’t. Neither did Benjamin, who’d followed his father into the room and now stood before him. Benjamin pushed his leafy hair out of his eyes.
“Why is everyone saying you claimed to find those telegrams inside my father’s desk?” he asked, breathing heavily.
“That’s where they were, Benjamin,” Archer said.
“You’re lying!” Benjamin nearly shouted. “They were found in the hole in Greenhouse Four. It was all Mr. Mullfort’s doing, and you told me you didn’t find anything. Why are you trying to blame my father?”
Archer didn’t know what to say.
“My father was right,” Benjamin said, shaking his head. “You are like your grandparents.”
“Mr. Mullfort was only doing what your father told him to do,” Archer tried. “He met with your father before the forgery was discovered. You must see the connection.”
“Mr. Mullfort was getting the business records for Strait of Magellan. My father doesn’t even like him. He kicked Mr. Mullfort out of his order. And even though my father had no reason to feel guilty, he gave Strait of Magellan to Mr. Mullfort. That’s who my father is, Archer. He’s generous. He’s not a murderer.”
“That’s not true, Benjamin. He—”
But Archer fell silent. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but he suddenly saw a resemblance between Benjamin and his father. Yet as cold as Benjamin’s eyes had become, colder still were his final two words.
“Prove it.”
Benjamin stormed out of the Elk Horn Room. Archer wanted to chase after him, but there was nothing he could say. If he were in Benjamin’s shoes, he’d think he was lying too. He turned to his friends. No one had anything to say.
Archer’s spirits lifted when his grandparents entered the room. He hadn’t seen either smile so wide since the day they’d arrived home. Grandma Helmsley crouched before him and licked her finger to clean a bit of greenhouse dirt from his forehead.
“Words are never enough,” she said. “But for now, I want you all to know you have our deepest gratitude.”
Grandpa Helmsley’s pale green eyes sparkled with pride as he sized up Archer’s baggy Greenhorn uniform. “I believe we have two options, Archer. We’ll either have to grow you as quickly as we can, or find you one that’s a better fit.”
“That’s for another day,” Grandma Helmsley said, rubbing Archer’s shoulders gratefully. “For now, we must get you all home. Your parents must be worried sick.”
Archer had completely forgotten about his mother. “She’s going to . . . when I escaped in the dumbwaiter . . . her face.”
“Dumbwaiter!” Grandpa Helmsley roared. “Now there’s a story I’m looking forward to hearing!”
“We’re ready to go,” Cornelius said, suddenly appearing, covered in snow and grease. “I’ve loaded the delivery truck into mine.”
“Thank you, Cornelius,” Grandma Helmsley replied. “And do be careful out there. Take it slow. Get them home safely. And Archer, we’ll be home as soon as the dirt settles.”
♦ CORNELIUS TAKES IT SLOW ♦
Archer, Adélaïde, Oliver, and Kana peered up at the Society from the backseat of Cornelius’s truck. Snow was still falling, but less so.
“Will they turn Mr. Mullfort over to the authorities?” Adélaïde asked.
“That’s not how we handle things,” Cornelius explained. “We have our Code. A prison cell is unusually cruel for an explorer—even a shoddy explorer. But don’t you worry about Mr. Mullfort. He’ll have plenty of time to think on what he’s done. Might even turn him straight in the end.”
“I can’t believe Mr. Birthwhistle got away with it,” Oliver sighed.
“Got away with it?” Cornelius repeated. “What did that pelican get away with? Whispers say he’s stepping down from the presidency. Of course he didn’t get caught. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t other consequences.”
“What other consequences?” Kana asked.
“Birthwhistle has surrounded himself with a shady flock. He didn’t care two sticks about Mr. Mullfort, and the reverse was true, too. Can you imagine that? Having no friends you cared about more than yourself? I can’t think of a worse punishment.”
“I can,” Oliver grumbled. “And it would be a lot more satisfying.”
Cornelius laughed heartily. “You only say that because you have what I’m talking about. You stick your necks out for one another.”
The truck rumbled over a bridge.
“That’s my opinion anyway. I still can’t believe you four braved this storm in that jalopy. I don’t mean that insultingly, of course. My ship’s a jalopy, too. You’ll have to come down to Rosewood Port. I’ll take you for a ride around the coast. We’ll go to Amber Hollow lighthouse. It’s a small island. Very peaceful. I’ll bring sandwiches. We’ll make a day of it. Though I should warn you about my ship. It has a tendency to . . .”
Cornelius went on talking as they drove off into the waning storm. Archer had never heard him speak so much. He liked it. He liked Cornelius. And though he tried his best to pay attention, the trouble was that, unlike the delivery truck, the Society vehicle was very warm and very comfortable and for the first time in a long time, Archer felt perfectly safe. Oliver, Adélaïde, and Kana must have felt the same way. They were already asleep. Archer fought it, but eventually he too closed his eyes.
The Doldrums and the Helmsley Curse Page 22