The Broken Sun (16 page)

‘Stranger things have happened.'

Jack returned with Scarlet to his cabin to find Mr Doyle lying across the bed, hands
behind his head, staring
thoughtfully at the ceiling. More food had been found missing
from the kitchen, he told them. He had made up his mind to nab the thief that night.

‘How will you do that?' Scarlet asked.

‘I intend to use a very large mousetrap,' Mr Doyle said. ‘To which I will attach
a massive piece of cheese. When they attempt to take the food, a huge arm will fly
down, pinning them helplessly to the floor.'

Jack and Scarlet stared at him.

‘Just a little joke,' he said. ‘I assume you're familiar with the story of Hansel
and Gretel?'

‘The kids in the forest?' Jack said.

‘And the witch and breadcrumbs,' Scarlet added.

‘There is much to be learnt from children's stories.'

With that enigmatic comment, the detective said no more.

Eating dinner with Phoebe and the others in the galley, Jack found himself peering
more closely at the motley group. There were many he had not met. Could one of them
be the thief? Or was there really a stowaway?

After the meal, Scarlet joined Jack and Mr Doyle in their cabin. The detective planned
to hunt down the thief in the dead of night. Phoebe was invited too, but declined,
with her usual dry wit, saying she was busy doing her nails. Jack and Scarlet settled
into armchairs to sleep for a few hours. When Jack awoke next, the detective had
made them all hot chocolate.

‘Come, you two,' Mr Doyle said. ‘It's time to follow the breadcrumbs.'

Breadcrumbs?

‘If you say so,' Jack said.

Mr Doyle lit a kerosene lamp and they followed him to the galley where they found
the door ajar. In the kitchen, the pantry door was also open.

‘Good,' the detective said. ‘Our visitor has taken the bait.'

‘I must confess to being a little lost,' Scarlet said.

‘Surely you remember the fairytale?' Mr Doyle said. ‘A trail of breadcrumbs led the
children back to safety after they fell into the clutches of the evil witch.' He
waved the lamp over the floor, revealing a crystalline substance glittering in the
pale light. ‘We're using sugar.'

‘How—'

‘I arranged with Sandra to leave a box of goods outside the kitchen. A tear in the
box is leaving a trail.'

They followed the glimmering path down several flights of stairs. They passed a crewman
who glanced at them curiously. Mr Doyle gave him a friendly smile without speaking.
After several minutes they reached a door at the top of a metal staircase leading
into the cargo hold, a gloomy room filled with boxes of supplies, a steam-powered
submarine and something that looked like a tank.

‘It appears Mr Bradstreet is well equipped.'

They headed towards a pile of boxes in a corner. Mr Doyle waved the lantern about,
making the shadows dance and dive like ghosts.

‘Please show yourself,' he called. ‘We mean you no harm.'

Silence.

‘If you do not show yourself,' Mr Doyle continued, ‘I will be forced to call the
captain, who will confine you to the brig. I understand it is full of cockroaches.'
He paused. ‘And spiders.'

One of the shadows broke away and a girl emerged into the dull light. Pushing back
her long hair, she revealed a dirty face, small eyes and broad lips. She was about
fifteen.

Blimey
, thought Jack.

‘Who are you?' she demanded. ‘You have no right to ask me questions!' Despite her
appearance, she was well spoken.

‘I believe we have every right,' Mr Doyle responded. ‘Can you tell us why you're
here?'

The girl glared at them defiantly.

‘I believe I can guess.' Mr Doyle turned to Jack and Scarlet. ‘Does this young lady
remind you of anyone?'

Jack started to shake his head. Then he looked a little harder at the girl, who simply
glared back. Under the dirt, her face was actually quite pretty. And something about
her eyes…

‘Professor Clarke!' he said.

‘He's my grandfather!' The girl clenched her fists, as if ready to attack them with
her bare hands. ‘You're responsible for putting him in hospital!'

‘We did no such thing,' Mr Doyle said. He introduced everyone. ‘We are involved
in an investigation to discover what happened to your grandfather—and why.'

‘You're lying,' the girl cried. ‘You're going to be sorry for what you've done! He's
in a coma…and…and…'

She looked ready to burst into tears.

‘Mr Doyle is telling the truth,' Scarlet said gently. ‘We
are
trying to find a cure
for your grandfather as well as a friend of ours who was also attacked.'

She explained the chain of events, leaving out the details about Mr Doyle's son.

‘Come with us,' Scarlet said, ‘and we'll explain everything.'

The girl's face was smeared with dirty tears. ‘You want to put me in jail,' she said.
‘Or throw me off the ship.'

‘We could have half the crew down here in minutes if we wanted to arrest you,' Mr
Doyle said. ‘But I think it's illegal to throw people off airships.'

The girl sighed, sagging against the stack of boxes. ‘I'll come with you,' she said,
‘but you'd better not try anything.'

‘What's your name?' Jack asked.

‘Clarice,' she said, taking another step forward. ‘Clarice Clarke.'

They took her back to Phoebe and Scarlet's cabin. Clarice's attitude changed completely
when she was introduced to Phoebe. ‘My grandfather speaks of you all the time,' she
gushed. ‘He says you're the bee's knees!'

‘Thank you, my dear,' Phoebe said. ‘I've followed your grandfather's work for years.
His articles on the Greek–Roman traces of the Atlantis legend are the
best in the
field. But how did you end up on board the
Explorer
?'

Clarice explained that she had travelled to London after learning about the attack
on her grandfather. While visiting him in hospital, she saw Mr Doyle and his team.
Staking out their apartment, she came to the erroneous conclusion that they were
involved in attacking her grandfather.

‘Why was he attacked?' Clarice asked, looking ready to burst into tears again. ‘Why
did they hurt him?'

Jack felt his heart melting. Clarice had been through so much over the past few days.
Trailing them to the airship was incredible enough, but stowing aboard without being
discovered was nothing short of a miracle.

‘We don't know who harmed your grandfather,' Mr Doyle said, grimly. ‘But I promise
you: we will find out.'

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Phoebe settled Clarice in a spare cot in her room before rejoining Mr Doyle and the
others. ‘She's sound asleep,' she said. ‘I don't think she's had a good night's rest
in weeks. Understandable, considering the circumstances.'

It turned out Clarice had been orphaned and taken in by her grandfather at a young
age. Jack understood this pain: losing his own parents was the most traumatic experience
he had ever endured.

The next morning the captain began their final course corrections to Smollett's Island.
Mr Doyle broke the news to Tobias Bradstreet about the stowaway.

He was less than pleased. ‘I run a tight operation,'
he said. ‘She should be thrown
into the brig for the duration of the voyage.'

But he calmed down when Mr Doyle explained the girl's reasons for stowing away.

‘Just make certain she stays out of trouble. This is a historic expedition. I don't
want it ruined by the actions of a silly girl.'

The
Explorer
cut across the ocean like a bird the next morning as Jack and Scarlet
strolled the decks with Clarice. She and her grandfather had travelled all over the
world together, and she had learnt a great deal about ancient history and archaeology.

‘I don't know what I'll do if I lost him,' she said, staring out at the clouds. ‘I
can't imagine life alone.'

‘Don't you have any other family?' Jack asked.

‘I've got an aunt, but I haven't seen her for years.'

‘Best not to worry about things before they happen,' Scarlet said. ‘We'll find a
cure with Phoebe and Mr Doyle's help.'

Jack pointed to the far horizon. ‘What's that out there?' he asked. ‘Is that an island?'

‘I think it is,' Scarlet said. ‘Let's tell Mr Doyle.'

They found the detective. ‘I believe you're right,' he said. ‘Which means that now
is probably a good time to have a word with the captain.'

‘What about?' Jack asked.

But Mr Doyle did not speak again until they reached the bridge. Here they found the
ship's officers deep in discussion with Tobias Bradstreet.

‘Are we interrupting?' Mr Doyle asked.

‘Somewhat,' said Captain Malone rudely.

‘Is there a problem?'

‘We think so,' Bradstreet said. ‘There is an airship following us.'

‘Are you sure?'

‘There's no reason for it to be out here. We're completely off the normal shipping
lanes.'

‘Oh dear,' Mr Doyle said. ‘Perhaps I should have spoken up earlier.'

‘About what?' Tobias Bradstreet looked baffled. ‘What are you talking about?'

Mr Doyle pointed at the first officer, Reg Smythe, who was examining a navigation
map. ‘I suggest you place Mr Smythe under guard,' he said. ‘He is a danger to this
ship.'

‘What?' Smythe's mouth fell open. ‘That's outrageous! I don't know what you're talking
about!'

Mr Doyle said to Bradstreet, ‘I hope you don't mind, but I made a point of reading
Mr Smythe's curriculum vitae.'

‘You broke into my office?'

‘All for a good cause. Mr Smythe's employment history states that he was born in
Surrey, attending St John's School for Boys before joining the Royal Air Force and
serving with distinction during the war. At its conclusion, he worked in the merchant
air navy, transporting goods across India for three years before returning to England.'

Smythe was furious. ‘What of it?' he demanded.

‘It is all a lie,' said Mr Doyle.

‘How dare you! I'm a man of my word!'

‘Poppycock. You were born and raised in Newcastle. Your father was a farrier and
you went on to follow in his footsteps. When the war began, you rose no higher than
the rank of able seaman aboard a navy ship.'

‘That's…that's…'

‘You supposedly spent time in Nepal,' Mr Doyle continued. ‘Yet had no idea what I
meant when I mentioned the Goddess of the Earth.'

‘I—'

‘What does it mean? Quickly, man!'

‘I…I refuse—'

‘You mean you can't. It is the translation for the word
Chomolungma
, the local Nepalese
name for Everest, as anyone who has ever lived or worked in that region knows. In
addition, your training in the operations of an airship began less than six months
ago. You—'

Reg Smythe produced a gun and waved it at them. ‘You're some sort of demon,' he snarled.
‘But that will not affect our plans. You were all doomed anyway.' He pointed the
gun at Captain Malone. ‘I might start with our stout captain.'

A shot rang out—but the captain did not fall. The gun flew from Smythe's hand and
cluttered to one side. He doubled over, grasping his bloody hand. He made another
grab for the weapon, but the crew had him helpless on the ground in seconds.

Jack turned in amazement to see Mr Doyle's coat pocket now had a hole in it. The
detective pulled out his hand to reveal his gun, Clarabelle, a trail of smoke still
curling from the barrel.

‘I dislike shooting people,' Mr Doyle said. ‘Even a scoundrel as wretched as Smythe.'

The first officer was handcuffed and dragged off to the brig. Tobias Bradstreet was
remarkably composed, but Captain Malone's face was white. Jack helped him to a nearby
chair.

‘Ignatius!' Bradstreet said. ‘How on earth did you know he was a fraud?'

‘Just a simple assemblage of the clues,' Mr Doyle said. ‘His ignorance about Everest
was just the beginning. Once I checked his resumé I discovered several other glaring
inconsistencies.

‘Although he had travelled, I could tell his native accent was from the north of
England, not the south. I noticed him bend over the other day, but his stance made
it obvious he had worked with horses. Farriers have a particular way of holding the
horses' legs and he did that instinctively.'

Jack spoke up. ‘But how did you know he had been in the navy?'

‘Simplicity itself. Navy men have a distinctive manner of walking. It is a rolling
gait. With airship pilots it is quite different. As to his training, I only had to
observe him using the controls for a few minutes to ascertain he was an amateur.'

Captain Malone mopped sweat from his face. ‘I just thought he was out of practice,'
he admitted.

‘More than that, unfortunately. He was a complete fraud.'

One of the crew approached the captain. ‘Sir? That other airship's gaining on us.'

Captain Malone grabbed a pair of binoculars. ‘It
is
gaining,' he said. ‘But we'll
reach Smollett's Island first.'

Bradstreet pointed to a mountain range dominating the island. ‘Can you navigate us
past that peak so we'll be out of sight? You can drop us off and continue on. There's
an island chain west of here. They may believe you're heading for them and follow
you there instead.'

The captain started yelling orders. The engines surged and the
Explorer
crossed the
coast, rounded the mountains and rapidly descended.