The Steampunk Detective (7 page)

Scarlet screamed.

Chapter Eight

Jack had only ever seen two dead bodies in his life – those of his parents, although his memory of them swam with confusion. It was like one of those shows at the magic lantern theatre – unclear and disjointed. Jack could only ever remember separate images from that terrible day. Never the entire incident.

Blackness swam around him like a fog. He saw his father swinging from one trapeze to meet his mother in the middle. She hung upside down. Her arms outstretched. His hands met hers. Jack stood on the sawdust ring below.

The crossbar supporting his father snapped.

Jack cried out. Never had this happened in over a thousand performances. But as they tumbled towards the net, in the long seconds as they fell, Jack remembered relaxing as he knew they would simply land in the safety net.

He would never forget them hitting the net at the same instant, hand in hand, as if somehow they knew this signalled the end.

Because in the next instant, against all reason, the net snapped.

“She is perfectly preserved,” Mr Doyle broke his reverie.

They grouped around the stone sarcophagus and looked through the glass top. The lamplight illuminated a woman inside. Wearing a long black dress, her face looked as if carved from ivory. Her gleaming white hands lay across her body, resting gently upon her stomach. Long black hair cascaded across the silk pillow supporting her head. She looked like she was about to suddenly draw breath.

After his initial shock, Jack found himself staring at the woman. She was really very pretty. For a dead lady.

“I wonder who she is,” Scarlet said.

“Oh, I know who she is,” Mr Doyle said. “She is Lisa Gherardini.”

“What?” Jack asked. “Is she a murder victim or a missing person or –.”

“Merely the model for the most famous painting on Earth. You may have heard of it – the Mona Lisa.”

“But who –?” Jack stopped.

Mr Doyle held up his hand. “As to who is responsible for leaving her body here, I can only speculate at this time. As to when –.” He stood back to examine the sarcophagus. “The stonework for her tomb matches that of one of the early Roman Popes.” Mr Doyle stood back. “Yes. It is the same carving. Very ancient. Constructed centuries before her death. Her body was obviously preserved through a process unknown even today. Judging by the mould around the base of the sarcophagus, I would venture to say she has been here for centuries.

“Mr Doyle,” Scarlet said slowly. “You’re saying this is the Mona Lisa.”

“Yes. The model da Vinci used for the painting – Lisa Gherardini.”

“But what is she doing here?” Jack asked.

“Very little,” Mr Doyle replied. “She is, after all, dead.”

Jack and Scarlet looked at him in silence for a moment.

“Just a little joke.” He continued. “It would be pure speculation at this time, however there is an interesting connection we cannot ignore.” He paused. “Today we have seen both an unknown painting by Master Leonardo da Vinci and now we have found the famous model for another of his works. The link in the chain is obviously Leonardo. But why? And who is behind this would only be guesswork at this time.”

“And my father?” Scarlet asked.

“We are no closer, my dear,” Mr Doyle said. “I am sorry.”

He swept the sheet over the stone sarcophagus and they silently filed up the stairs and into the warehouse above. The warehouse interior echoing with the sound of falling rain was a welcome relief for Jack. It was unnerving being with the body of the woman downstairs. Possibly if she had been reduced to a skeleton he may not have felt so spooked, but the woman had looked ready to awake at any second.

Mr Doyle replaced the door into its position on the floor and smoothed over the muck and hay. He returned the lantern to its position on the wall.

He held up a finger. “Wait. I hear something.”

They all heard it now – the sound of an approaching steam car.

“Quickly!” Mr Doyle ordered.

They raced to the rear of the warehouse. Not a moment too soon. The huge double doors were unlocked and a steam vehicle backed into the open area as rain continued to pour steadily outside. Two men climbed from the truck. A third, speaking a foreign language, gave some orders. The other two lifted a tarpaulin from the back of the vehicle. They climbed in and lifted two large boxes from the rear.

“They look like –.” Jack began.

Mr Doyle clasped a hand over his mouth. If the men heard him, they gave no indication.

Jack looked in some horror at the two boxes lying side by side on the ground. Despite being constructed from timber, in physical dimensions they were not unlike the sarcophagus in the secret chamber below.

The leader of the group appeared agitated. He yelled something at his companions in his foreign tongue and his cohorts immediately hurried back into the truck. They closed the doors. A moment later Jack and the others heard the sound of the vehicle as it chugged away. The rain started to fall more heavily.

Jack and the others slowly left their hiding place and edged over to the boxes.

“Mr Doyle,” Scarlet began. “You don’t think –.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Once again he produced his trusty blade and started to work at the top edge of one of the boxes. In a moment he had it loosened. “Help me to ease this up, Jack.”

They gently raised the lid. Scarlet stifled a cry of horror. A man lay within a solid block of ice in the box. He looked well dressed, clean shaven and very dead.

“Who is he?” Jack asked.

“I can answer that,” Mr Doyle said. “But I would first like to test a theory. Please help me with the other box.”

A minute later they had the lid off the second box. Inside another dead man lay encased in ice. Mr Doyle lit a lantern and held it over the ice tombs to inspect both bodies.

“Who are they?” Jack asked.

“Two very famous men, one whose face is known to the general public. The other is unknown. May I introduce you to Douglas Milverton, the creator of Milverton’s Bacteria, one of the most astounding creations of our age. The other gentleman is James Partington. You may recall –.”

“The amazing submersible,” Scarlet exclaimed.

“The amazing…what?” Jack asked.

“A submersible,” Mr Doyle explained. “A vessel constructed to go under the water. In the last year a number of these have been commissioned by the Department of Defence. The war office believes these may have made a real difference in the war if they had been developed earlier.”

Once again a cloud seemed to pass over Mr Doyle’s face. He shook his head as if to clear it.

“Both these men went missing in the last year. We have obviously discovered what happened to them. The question is – why?”

“Who were those men who delivered the bodies?” Scarlet asked. “And are they responsible for the disappearance of my father?”

“We can only speculate,” Mr Doyle said. “However –.”

Jack happened to look past Mr Doyle at that moment. Beyond his mentor lay the door through which they had entered. A face filled the glass panel set into the door – the man who had been snapping orders at his companions. He held a gun at the ready, his face filled with fury.

“Watch out!” Jack yelled.

He threw himself at Mr Doyle – not a moment too soon. A gunshot rang out, blowing out the glass. Jack knocked the detective to the ground.

Scarlet pulled out her gun and fired a single shot at the door. The bullet hit the door frame.

“Run!” Mr Doyle cried.

They raced towards the rear of the warehouse. More shots whizzed past them as they took refuge behind a stack of crates. Jack glanced around the corner and saw the lantern had tipped over in the confusion and a smouldering fire had begun in the hay. The flames raced rapidly across to the nearby shelves.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Scarlet said.

Jack peered behind them. The only exit to the warehouse lay before them. There was no other way out. He peered back towards the front and a bullet slammed into a box near his head. Jack cried out as splintered wood struck his face.

“My boy –,” Mr Doyle started.

“I’m alright,” Jack said.

Mr Doyle leaned around the corner and fired off a few quick shots. He looked around and then towards the ceiling.

“The only way out of here is up,” Mr Doyle said. “You two go first.”

Scarlet lifted her skirt and started up the shelving. A moment later Jack followed. The older girl impressed him. There had been some rough and tumble girls at the orphanage, but none had the pluck that Scarlet seemed to carry with her in abundance.

When they reached the top, Scarlet lay flat and fired her weapon at the gunmen, allowing Mr Doyle to climb after them. Jack eased open one of the nearby windows and peered down. The Lion’s Mane was parked just next to the building.

“With a bit of luck we should be able to jump onto the balloon and slide down the side,” Mr Doyle said.

Jack looked down the side of the building again.

Bleeding Hell
, he thought.
That’s going to take more than a bit of luck.

He did not voice his opinion.

“We need to create a diversion,” Mr Doyle said. “Jack, lend me a hand. Scarlet, continue firing if you will.”

Scarlet continued to fire intermittently at the men at the far end of the building. Each time they tried to manoeuvre the centre aisle, she fired a pot shot at them. Smoke and fire continued to spread and their assailants yelled to each other in their foreign tongue as they tried to draw closer.

“The boxes are not too heavy,” Mr Doyle said. “But this will require our combined strength if it is to work.”

The detective sat on the edge of the top of the boxes and braced his feet against the line of boxes on the shelf in front of them. Jack did the same.

“We’ll push on the count of three,” Mr Doyle said. “One, two…three!”

They applied all their strength to the towering shelf. At first Jack thought nothing was happening, and then he realised the shelf was beginning to tip forward.

“Release!” Mr Doyle said.

They pulled their legs back and the stack rocked back towards them.

“And again!” Mr Doyle cried.

They pushed the shelf and this time it seemed to hover, balanced as if on a knife edge. Then in the next instant it fell away from them, slamming into the next shelf.

“Quickly!” Mr Doyle yelled. “Out the window!”

Jack shoved the window open wide. A small ledge ran around the outside of the building. Just before Jack climbed out onto it, he glanced back inside the warehouse. The shelves were falling away from them like a row of dominoes. He heard screaming and crashing as boxes toppled into their assailants.

He leapt from the window, throwing his arms out in front of him and landed face first against the airship’s balloon. Using the friction of the surface, he slowly slid down the side until he slipped off and landed on his feet. He saw Scarlet follow his lead. She leapt across to the balloon and slid down the side – too quickly. Scarlet suddenly became airborne and landed on him.

“Oomph!” Jack gasped.

The girl rolled over. “Oh, Mr Mason. I apologise most sincerely.”

“That’s quite alright, Scarlet,” Jack said. He had momentarily seen the underneath of Scarlet’s dress – no man’s land – and realised he was blushing furiously. “And please call me Jack.”

Mr Doyle landed next to them rather more adeptly. “Hurry you two. We’d better move before those chaps recover.”

They scuttled into the gondola of the Lion’s Mane and Mr Doyle untied them. A moment later they rose up above the buildings. Jack looked back at the warehouse. Behind them, the building burned. The rain had stopped during their time inside the building and now the fire continued unabated. A window exploded and smoke trailed up into the late afternoon sky.

The men ran away from the scene like ants deserting a nest. The steam truck made a hasty getaway from the scene. After that the fog closed in again. By the time the Lion’s Mane had climbed high above the city, the building had became a star fallen to earth, burning and radiant in the heart of the darkening landscape.

They watched until the whole scene was swallowed by deep shadow and fog. The last light of day played along the horizon like the pieces of a broken bottle. Only the London metrotower was visible rising up from the fog enshrouded city.

Scarlet let out a sob.

“My dear,” Mr Doyle set the rudder to autopilot on the Lion’s Mane. “Are you alright?”

Jack felt as if his heart were about to burst from his chest. Scarlet had been so strong during this whole ordeal. It seemed impossible that such a powerful girl was capable of so feminine a display as tears.

“No, I fear I am not.” Scarlet dabbed at her face with a handkerchief. “We have been through this ordeal and we have not moved ahead one inch.”

“On the contrary,” Mr Doyle said. “A fortunate clue has landed in our laps.”

“A clue? What clue?” Jack asked.

Mr Doyle returned to the steering panel of the airship. “The fellows back at the warehouse were speaking German.”

Jack remembered the foreign tongue of the men. “And you could understand them?”

Mr Doyle nodded. “Fortunately it is among the twelve languages of which I have a passing knowledge.”

“What did they say?” Scarlet asked, sitting forward.

“One of them was looking forward to his cheese and sauerkraut sandwich,” Mr Doyle said. “I must confess I salivated at the thought –.”

“Mr Doyle!” Jack interrupted.

“The fellow in charge told the others they had to hurry. It seems their next target is Jon Harker.”

“Jon Harker!” Jack exclaimed. “Why, he’s –.”

“The inventor of the Space Steamer,” Scarlet finished.

“And our first astronaut,” Mr Doyle said, looking up into the night sky.

Chapter Nine

As the sun set and the final light of day drained from the sky, Mr Doyle set their instruments for the London metrotower. Harker was famously known to own the entire two hundredth floor. Mr Doyle produced bedding and nightclothes. He tied a sheet across the middle of the living room so Scarlet could change into a sleeping garment and have her own room.