The Mechanical Messiah (60 page)

here was a mighty crash and then there was silence.

Alice dared to peep around the door. Dust rolled in as a grey storm, but the war was clearly over.

She spied the Fifth Earl of Hove. He was still upon the stage and patting once more at the heads of his three French bulldogs.

‘They are gone,’ said he, in answer to Alice’s unasked question. ‘The metal man took the beast. Flew with it through what is left of the ceiling. He said that together they would fly for ever across the universe.

Alice stared up to the broken dome. Beyond, a clear night sky showed tiny points of light. One of them the planet Venus. And was that too a shooting star streaking away from Earth?

Alice made a wish upon it. Just to be sure, as it were. But Alice was not magic any more. The magic had flown away with the Beast and the beautiful golden God.

Cameron Bell dragged himself back into the auditorium.

‘It is done,’ he said.

‘Almost.’

Cameron Bell stared towards the stage.

Mark Rowland Ferris stood upon it. Somehow during the mayhem he had managed to acquire Colonel Katterfelto’s ray gun.

‘You cannot leave,’ said the Fifth Earl of Hove. ‘That would be a very bad idea.’

‘It is over,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘Give it up now, if you will.’

‘Oh no.’ The young man shook his head. ‘The creature has sown the seeds. The country is on the brink of war. I can succeed. My plans are not altered.’

‘And so you will kill us?’ asked Cameron Bell.

‘Kill you? Yes indeed.’

‘And what about our bodies?’ It was a strange question, but Cameron chose to ask it. ‘What about when our bodies are found?’

‘That is a very strange question,’ said the Fifth Earl. ‘But your bodies will not be found.’

‘Why not?’

‘Why
not?
Because I will put a torch to the place. It has been nothing but trouble anyway. I will burn it and your bodies. I will collect the fire insurance. I might build a coffee shop here. I believe they will be very popular in the future.’

Cameron Bell nodded thoughtfully. ‘Could I ask you to do me one favour, then?’ said he. ‘Just tell me one more time, loudly and clearly, your plans for this theatre.’

‘Are you mad?’ asked the young man on the stage.

‘I am hoping
not.’

‘Then I will indulge you. I intend to
burn down this theatre!’

And with that said, he pointed the ray gun right at Cameron Bell.

And with that
done,
fire descended upon him from above and he went the horrid way of Harry ‘Hurty-Finger’ Hamilton, Smelly Charlie Belly and Master Makepiece Scribbens the Brentford Snail Boy.

In a great big burst of flames.

Then gone.

Alice looked at Cameron Bell. ‘You knew that would happen,’ she said, ‘but how?’

Alice and Darwin assisted Cameron Bell. They struggled, as he was a heavy man, but eventually they pushed their way from the ruined Music Hall and out into the street beyond. In the company of a flock of kiwi birds and three French bulldogs that Alice Lovell had taken into her care.

‘We have survived,’ said Alice. ‘Thank God that we have survived.’

Policemen leapt from many hiding places.

Sergeant Case called out to the survivors, ‘I arrest you all in the name of the law,’ called he.

here was some unpleasantness.

The kiwi birds and the three French bulldogs did not take kindly to being herded into the rear of a Black Maria. But order was eventually drawn from chaos.

Cameron Bell was carted off to hospital to have his broken leg set and encased in plaster. The following day he was visited by Sergeant Case. Who did not bring chocolates or flowers.

Cameron Bell had a lot of explaining to do.

Happily the Mark Seven Patent Ferris Audiophonicon had survived the holocaust intact. It made for interesting listening. The voices of Mr Bell, the Fifth Earl
and
the Beast issued most distinctly from the wax cylinder.

‘Extraordinary,’ said Sergeant Case when the playing was done. ‘But all most unsatisfactory.’

‘But, if handled with care, that recording can earn you much praise and the return of your rank. This is the first-ever recorded criminal confession — you will ear yourself a place in history for it.’

‘I and
not you?’
asked the sergeant. ‘It is your voice and not mine upon that cylinder, extracting the confessions, as it were.

‘Naturally I will testify that I was employed by you. I am sure you can shift some funds into my bank account, should anyone care to check.’

Sergeant Case rolled his eyes, and nodded with his head.

‘I will further testify that it was
you
who rescued me from Scotland Yard when the mad Chancellor blew up the building seeking to destroy me.’ Cameron Bell smiled upon the sergeant.

‘You have an answer for everything, don’t you?’ asked the sergeant.

‘Especially when it comes to saving myself from death at a rope’s end.’

‘Quite so. However—’ and here Sergeant Case took out a packet of cigarettes, Ferris Extra—Mild, and lit one without offering them to Mr Cameron Bell ‘—all of this does
not
explain the death by fire of Mark Rowland Ferris. In the identical manner to the Music Hall bill-toppers. The cases
you
were originally called in to solve. The cases that still remain unsolved.’

‘I solved those cases yesterday,’ said Mr Cameron Bell.

‘Then how come the Fifth Earl died the same way?’

‘It was either him or me. He intended to shoot me.’

‘I can understand how he felt,’ said Sergeant Case. ‘But who killed him?’

‘The murders at the Electric Alhambra were not the work of a man, but of a machine. A marvel of the modern age.

‘A machine?’ asked Sergeant Case.

‘It is called the Harmonising Arithmetical Logisticator — a most sophisticated mechanical nexus that governs the internal running of the Electric Alhambra.’

‘HAL,’ said Sergeant Case. ‘Oh no, you are wrong. I have seen that machine with my own eyes and heard it speak. But its speaking was just a trick, designed by Mr Babbage to fool Lord Andrew Ditchfield.’

‘I wonder whatever happened to
him?’
wondered Cameron Bell, who knew a loose end when he saw one. ‘But I regret to tell you that Mr Babbage was fooling
you,
in order to protect his machine. I visited it yesterday. HAL and I came to something of an arrangement.’

Sergeant Case did shakings of the head. ‘Let us say I was to believe you, that this machine actually thinks for itself. Why did it kill the Music Hall stars, and why Mark Rowland Ferris?’

‘It is, as I have said, a most sophisticated piece of mechanical apparatus. Mr Babbage schooled it to play chess and to appreciate good music. Classical music being the veritable music of the spheres. A music of celestial harmony. The Harmonising Arithmetical Logisticator found itself night after night having to endure the banal songs of Music Hall bill-toppers. I mean, have you ever heard Smelly Charlie Belly’s song?’

‘I have,’ said the sergeant. ‘You flatter it by calling it banal.’

‘Precisely, and the Harm-HAL, if you will, got fed up and took to wiping out the performers in the name of high art.’

‘And the Fifth Earl?’

‘He threatened to burn down the theatre. He was standing right onstage when he did so.
Twice.’

‘Twice?’ asked the sergeant.

‘Well,’ said Mr Bell, ‘he was also threatening Alice and me with a ray gun. I had to make him say it twice, in case HAL had not heard him the first time.’

‘It won’t do,’ said the sergeant. ‘It just won’t do.’

‘It will have to be made to do. Trust me, when I give evidence I will make all the pieces fit and you will take all of the credit.’

‘And I should trust
you?
If you were
me
would
you
trust
you?’

‘I have no wish to be hanged,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘Believe me, you can
really
trust me this time.’

The private detective put his hand out for a shake.

The sergeant paused and then the sergeant took it.

‘A happy ever after, then,’ said he.

hree months later, the Electric Alhambra reopened.

Alice Lovell was topping the bill.

The Harmonising Arithmetical Logisticator had been completely rebuilt.

Cameron Bell had sent many red roses to Alice’s exclusive dressing room, into which he had somehow failed to gain access. He had also purchased seats in the Royal Box.

With Cameron sat Darwin the monkey, looking most dashing in top hat and tails. Major Tinker in his dress uniform. Commander Case in his. Commander Case’s wife was also in the box and she was being bothered by the Queen’s physician, Joseph Carey Merrick.

Her Majesty would not be there this evening, because
somebody
had humorously prescribed her a rather strong laxative.

Someone else who sadly would not be there was Colonel Katterfelto. The old soldier had been buried with full military honours. And awarded a posthumous Victoria Cross for his services to the Empire and his fight against the Beast.

Many had turned out to see his coffin go by on a gun carriage. The British Empire knew how to honour a hero.

‘I shall ask her tonight,’ said Cameron Bell, popping the cork from vintage champagne and splashing it into out-held glasses. ‘I have not seen her for months. I have been writing my book. I have kept my word with Commander Case and he will be the hero of it. My publisher assures me that it will be a best-seller and that I will be able to retire from the dangerous business of being a private detective upon the proceeds. I have purchased an engagement ring and tonight I will ask Alice to marry me.

‘Jolly good show,’ said Major Tinker. ‘Hope it all works out.’

Darwin held out his glass for champagne and whispered to Cameron Bell. ‘Are you really sure about this?’ he asked.

‘Of course I am sure. I will finish my book. She and I will be married. And she and I will live happily ever after.’

‘But what if she says no?’ asked Darwin.

‘Well,’ said Cameron, ‘she might. And if she does I will just have to make the best of it. I will return to what I know best. Being a private detective. There are still a few London landmarks that I have not yet destroyed.’

Darwin made a face of alarm.

‘I am only joking,’ said Mr Bell. ‘But if Alice says no, I
shall
return to being a private detective. I understand that Commander Case is presently baffled by something he will only describe as “the biggest case ever”.’

Darwin made a thoughtful face. ‘Have you ever considered taking on an assistant?’ he asked. ‘Or a partner?’

Cameron Bell viewed Darwin the monkey. ‘Are you applying for the post?’ he asked.