The Steampunk Detective (27 page)

“I got a message through to MI5,” he said. “They were able to tell me who was the owner of Featherwick. Someone by the name of Smith!” Mr Doyle gave a brief laugh. “They were also able to tell me the same owner also had a piece of land not far away.”

“The railway tunnel!”

“Indeed,” Mr Doyle said. “The tunnel was part of a project that went bankrupt during the war and was never completed. I was able to gain access to the tunnel a few miles down the track and follow it here.”

“Mr Doyle,” Jack said.

“Yes, my boy.”

“You really are the world’s greatest detective.”

Mr Doyle looked embarrassed. “I actually have a cousin who is rather good too, but he’s another story.”

The detective led them through the tunnels to a winding metal staircase that led upwards to the street.

Jack inhaled fresh air deep into his lungs. They stood on a quiet backstreet near Saint Paul’s Cathedral. They made their way to a nearby cross street.

“It’s very quiet,” Jack said.

“Most of London has been evacuated,” Mr Doyle said.

At that moment a steam car came chuffing down the street at high speed. It drew to a halt. General Churchill leaned out, a cigar clenched firmly between his teeth.

“Mr Doyle and Jack Mason!” General Churchill said in astonishment. “What a pleasure! Have you had any success in locating the bomb?”

General Churchill climbed out of the vehicle and listened in amazement as Jack described the events of the last few hours. When he finished, General Churchill chewed impatiently on his cigar. “We’ve had police searching the city from end to end. Unfortunately, it’s impossible to search every single street and every single building. I doubt –.”

He broke off as his bottom jaw quivered. “I fear we may lose this great city.”

Lucy said something to me while I was in the water, Jack thought. She was smiling. She thought she would win, but…

“Maybe not,” Jack said quietly.

Both the men looked at him.

“There was something Lucy said before she left,” Jack recalled. “She said, ‘It will be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Just a figure of speech,” General Churchill said. “People say that all the time.”

“No,” Jack said. “It was the way she said it. She looked quite pleased with herself. As if she were enjoying some sort of secret joke.”

The three of them stood in silence pondering the words. Mr Doyle frowned, drawing his eyebrows together in concentration. General Churchill chewed thoughtfully on his cigar.

“Like looking for a needle in a haystack,” General Churchill mused. “There certainly aren’t any haystacks in London.”

“But there is a needle,” Mr Doyle said. “Cleopatra’s needle.”

They stared at him in astonishment.

“Cleopatra’s needle is an obelisk located on the Victoria Embankment not far from here,” Mr Doyle explained to Jack.

“That must be it,” Jack said.

“It’s that or nothing,” General Churchill replied.

They piled into his vehicle and headed towards the Thames.

“Will we get there in time?” Jack asked.

“Lucy will have given herself time to escape,” Mr Doyle said. “But if she were escaping the city in a private airship she would probably only need an hour.”

They turned right onto the Victoria Embankment. General Churchill increased the speed of the vehicle. All around them the city lay quiet and still, the moon bathing it in silver light. The Thames lay to their left as they zoomed past it. Finally General Churchill slowed the vehicle. He drew it to a halt. Even before they had climbed out, Jack was pointing.

“There!”

A truck sat in the shadow of the obelisk. It looked altogether unremarkable. Jack realised it could have been the vehicle from the tunnel, but he could not be certain. They hurried to the rear of the truck. Mr Doyle pushed the tarp aside.

“This is it,” he said quietly. “Now we have to disarm the device.”

“I have good news about that,” General Churchill said. “I have instructions copied straight from Mr Bell. As long as we follow them, we should be able to disarm the device.”

The three of them climbed into the rear of the vehicle. The bomb lay in the centre. A small illuminated panel was located in the dead centre on the top.

“This is a countdown device,” Mr Doyle said. “We have fifteen minutes till detonation.”

“Then let’s not waste any time,” General Churchill said. “Jack, wait outside.”

Jack opened his mouth to argue, then realised it would only be a misuse of time. Without a word, he climbed out of the van. He stood silent and still, looking up at the sky. It was a clear night. He remembered looking up at the sky from the orphanage and not being able to see the stars. Tonight he could see them clearly. It seemed the whole arm of the galaxy lay across the city, a huge comforting arm embracing London in its grasp. Jack walked over to the river and looked across it. The water rose and fell gently as it had for thousands of years.

I don’t want to die, Jack thought. I miss my parents and I love them, but I’m not ready to join them. Not yet. There’s too much here. There’s Mr Doyle and Scarlet and a whole world of adventure. I’m not ready to go. Not yet.

A sound came from behind him.

The tarpaulin on the truck was pushed back and the two men stepped out. They slowly walked over to Jack at the side of the river.

“Is it –.” Jack began.

“It’s done,” Mr Doyle said. “We’ve defused the device.”

“So we’re safe,” Jack said.

“We’re safe,” General Churchill replied. “And London is safe. And England is safe. Thanks to you both.”

“All in a day’s work,” Mr Doyle said.

“Oh,” Jack said. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Chapter Thirty–Three

The next day turned out to be the busiest day of Jack’s short life. After the weapon was taken away by the armed forces, Mr Doyle and Jack endured several hours of questioning by MI5. After the intelligence bureau finished with them, the heads of several other organisations took turns quizzing them. Finally even the local police asked a few questions so they could close their files.

Later that day they received a note from Scarlet and Mr Bell, asking if they could call on them at Bee Street at four o’clock. As Jack finished combing his hair for the tenth time – he had to look his best for Scarlet – he heard a light knock at his door.

“Come in,” he said.

Mr Doyle appeared. “Hello Jack.”

“Are they here, yet?” Jack eyed himself in the mirror.

“No, not yet.” Mr Doyle looked embarrassed.

“What’s wrong, Mr Doyle.”

“Actually, there’s something I need to speak to you about.” The detective entered and sat down heavily on Jack’s bed. Jack pulled the chair out from his desk and sat down.

“What is it?” Jack asked nervously.

“It’s about you assisting me in my cases,” Mr Doyle said. “You see, I did not realise the dangers involved. Perhaps I was foolish. Well, they say there’s no fool like an old fool.”

“You’re not old, Mr Doyle.”

The detective shot him a smile.

“That’s very kind of you, my boy,” Mr Doyle said. “But the truth is that you’re a young man with your whole life ahead of you. I think it might be better if other employment were found for you. Possibly an apprenticeship with a tradesman -.”

“No!” The word exploded from Jack’s mouth. “Mr Doyle! No! You can’t send me away.”

“But, my boy -.”

“No.” Jack said the word firmly. “Mr Doyle. You need me and I need you.”

“But this is dangerous work,” Ignatius Doyle said. “We deal with unpleasant things. Violent people -.”

“There are unpleasant things in life,” Jack said. “And violent people. I know that.”

“But your safety -.”

“I appreciate your concerns, Mr Doyle,” Jack said. “But I can’t hide away from the unpleasantness of life. No-one can.”

I didn’t know how bad things could get
, he thought. Not until the accident.
But losing my parents was like his world being pulled out from under me.

“But if anything were to happen to you -,” Mr Doyle’s eyes glistened with moisture.

“Mr Doyle.” Jack sat on the bed next to the great detective. “No-one can stop terrible things from happening in life. No-one.”

A long silence followed between them.

“There must be some other possibility,” Jack said.

“This is a dangerous line of work for someone who is unprepared,” Mr Doyle paused. “So you would need to be prepared. You need to be trained.”

Jack held his breath.

Mr Doyle continued. “I would have to train you in everything I know.”

“I can learn.”

Mr Doyle sniffed. “It’s a lot of training.”

“Alright.”

“I’m talking about martial arts, the science of detection, biology -.”

“I’m ready,” Jack said.

“Astronomy, physics -.”

“When do I start?”

Mr Doyle took a deep breath. “This may be a long and difficult challenge for you, but -.”

“Yes?”

“Eventually you would be ready,” Mr Doyle said. “Which is only appropriate. After all, it is my responsibility as your guardian to raise you to be strong and healthy and -.”

“As my…,” Jack interrupted. “As my guardian?”

“Well, yes,” Mr Doyle frowned. “I thought Mr Daniels from the orphanage would have explained that to you. If you stay here, it means you will become my ward.”

“You mean, like family?”

Mr Doyle nodded. “Like family. But if you don’t want that -.”

“No,” Jack said firmly. “I like that. I like that very much indeed.”

Epilogue

Gloria Scott prepared cake and tea as Jack, Mr Doyle and the Bells settled around the living room.

“What will happen to the bombs now?” Scarlet asked.

“Secreted away,” Mr Doyle explained. “Atomic weapons, like the many other weapons devised by the Phoenix Society, are years ahead of their time. The government has placed them into storage until we reach a point where we can deal with atomic power – if that day ever comes.”

“And what will happen to the laboratory in Switzerland?” Jack asked.

“Already destroyed,” Mr Bell said briskly. “Apparently the Swiss were so fearful of the technology contained within the lab, they decided it safer to blow it all to kingdom come than let it remain intact.”

“That’s a terrible waste,” Jack said. “But at least the other labs still exist.”

Mr Bell shook his head. “The other labs were only used for partial research. The real technology existed within the Swiss lab. With it gone, the society is finished.”

“What about the other members, father?” Scarlet asked gently.

“Like all secret societies, Phoenix was very good at keeping the membership a secret – even from each other. The few other people I knew have all gone into hiding. Like rats deserting a sinking ship.”

“What about you, Mr Bell?” Jack asked. “Are you, well, the police…”

His voice trailed off.

Joseph Bell smiled. “Technically, I broke no laws. It is not a crime to belong to a secret society. Or to invent. And I have co–operated fully with the authorities. Thankfully, I will not be spending time ‘at her majesty’s pleasure’. In fact, my name has not appeared in the papers at all.”

“Nor ours,” Mr Doyle said.

“I would have expected medals for you and Jack,” Scarlet said. “After all, you did save London.”

“I wanted one,” Jack pretended to be grumpy. “But Mr Doyle wouldn’t let me have it.”

Mr Doyle smiled. “Consulting detectives require a certain amount of anonymity.”

“And what about Lucy Harker?” Scarlet asked.

A silence fell among the group.

“What indeed?” Mr Doyle looked troubled. “She’s a sick and evil woman. She escaped London even though a net had been thrown up around the city to apprehend her. The assets of her father’s empire have been seized by the government, so she has lost that financial lifeline. But as to the future…”

“There’s always tomorrow,” Jack said.

Mr Doyle nodded. “There’s always tomorrow. The search for Lucy Harker will continue. I believe she will be caught. One day.”

“Probably by us,” Jack said.

Mr Doyle shot a look at him and smiled, his eyes twinkling. “I like your confidence, by boy.”

“Well, I think you both deserve something special for your wonderful efforts,” Scarlet said. She leaned over and planted a kiss on both Mr Doyle and Jack’s cheeks.

“Bazookas,” Jack said, his face turning bright red.

“Bazookas,” Mr Doyle echoed, hurriedly sipping his tea.

They all laughed. Jack realised he had to change the subject. “I would like to propose a toast,” he said, raising his cup.

“To whom?” Mr Doyle asked.

“To Leonardo da Vinci,” Jack said. “The greatest inventor who ever lived.”

“And to family,” Mr Doyle said.

Jack’s eyes met those of the great detective.

“To family,” they chorused.

As they sipped their tea, Mr Doyle said, “And we must not forget that Mr da Vinci was one of history’s greatest artists. He did, after all, paint the Mona Lisa.”

“I’ve always wondered what that smile was all about,” Scarlet said thoughtfully.

“Who’s smile?” Mr Doyle asked.

“The Mona Lisa’s.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Mr Doyle said. He took another sip of his tea. “I once investigated a case involving the Mona Lisa, a seven per cent solution of cocoa and a man with three arms. Now, let me tell you about it…”

###

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