CHAPTER 16
Bainbridge had a concerned look etched on his face. In fact, thought Veronica, he was looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“What is it, Charles?” said Newbury quietly, so as not to draw attention to their small group as they stood on the sidelines of the search lamp exhibit, watchful for the arrival of Professor Angelchrist.
“It’s just … these faces, Newbury,” he replied, quietly. “There are men in the crowd that I recognise.”
“How so?” asked Newbury.
Bainbridge frowned, but didn’t answer.
“From the Yard?” said Veronica.
“No. They’re Service men. Archibald’s men,” he replied, after a moment, as if lost in thought.
“You mean to say that we’re presently surrounded by agents of the Secret Service?” said Newbury. His expression was a little strained, and Veronica wondered again what was going through his head. Was he having second thoughts? Doubts about Angelchrist’s motives?
Bainbridge nodded slightly. “In a manner of speaking,” he replied, glancing from side to side. “Yes. I’d say we’re pretty much surrounded.”
Veronica swallowed. “A trap? Is that why Angelchrist picked this place?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Bainbridge, a bit too hastily. He shook his head, adjusted his tone. “That’s not it at all. There must be something else going on here. Something that we’re not aware of.”
“Well, it’s hardly surreptitious,” said Veronica. She glanced round, searching the faces in the crowd. She couldn’t help imagining that any one of them might be watching her with malicious intent.
Directly behind them was the giant bird exhibit. To the left was a singing and dancing automaton of a woman, clothed in a fine red dress, its hips swaying provocatively as it mimed to the recording of an opera singer. To the right, a skeleton that looked like it came from a prehistoric giant was mounted on a large stone plinth, the fossilised bones dark and roughly hewn from the bedrock. It towered above the people below, posed as if reaching out a hand in supplication. Each of the exhibits were surrounded by thronging masses of people. Any or all of them might have been Secret Service agents, as far as Veronica knew.
“How many?” asked Newbury.
“At least a dozen,” said Bainbridge. “There may be more that I’m unaware of, but that’s half the men we have in London, concentrated around this exhibit.”
“Concentrated around the exhibit where Professor Angelchrist suggested we meet,” said Veronica, sceptically.
“Something’s certainly going on,” continued Bainbridge, ignoring her remark. “An operation, perhaps.”
“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation,” said Newbury. “This has to have something to do with that ‘misunderstanding’ Archibald referred to.”
“Look, here he comes,” said Bainbridge, visibly relaxing now that he’d caught sight of the professor. “I’m sure he’ll set everything straight.”
“Remember, Charles,” said Newbury, a note of caution in his voice, “we must be careful here. If it gets back to the Queen that we’re having this meeting at all…”
“I know, I know,” said Bainbridge, irritably. “Although I fear it may already be a little late for that, given that we’re presently surrounded by Archibald’s associates.”
“Yes, well, be that as it may, we mustn’t simply throw caution to the wind. Just keep in mind that, as far as any onlookers are concerned, we’re here to take in the exhibits. Any conversation we have with Archibald must be conducted with the utmost care,” said Newbury, firmly.
Bainbridge nodded.
The professor continued to circle around the perimeter of the exhibit, giving the lamp what appeared to be an appraising look. He was smartly dressed in a brown tweed suit, white shirt, and black cravat, and carried a smouldering briar pipe in his left hand. He was wearing an expression of devout concentration as he slowly edged through the crowd, finally coming to stand beside Newbury a few moments later. He placed the pipe in the corner of his mouth and folded his arms over his chest.
“There’s a lot of fuss being made over such an unobtrusive little object,” he said, turning to meet Veronica’s eye and smiling. “Good afternoon, Miss Hobbes.”
“Good afternoon, Professor,” she said. He offered her an impish grin. Once again, now that she was faced with the man, she felt herself warming to him. He was nothing if not charming, and she could see why Newbury and Bainbridge had been taken in by those charms. But the fact remained: They were currently encircled by a team of agents at least four times their number, possibly more. She couldn’t help but feel as if she’d been lured into a trap.
“Gentlemen,” said Angelchrist, acknowledging the others.
“A lot of fuss?” asked Newbury.
“Indeed,” said Angelchrist. “I’ll come to that in a moment. We don’t have a great deal of time, however, so I think it’s best we get straight to the heart of the matter. I had the gist of it from Clarkson, of course. I gather Her Majesty has rather taken against our little operation.”
“To put it somewhat mildly,” said Bainbridge. “She’s accused the Service of being behind the recent spate of killings, the victims of which, it transpires, all happen to be agents affiliated with the Crown. It’s preposterous.”
Angelchrist smiled. “I can’t blame her, Sir Charles. Of course, she’s quite wrong. I’m as baffled about these deaths as you are. But it doesn’t surprise me that she feels threatened by the growing strength of the Service, however noble our motives.”
“We’ll have to tread carefully from now on, Archibald,” said Bainbridge, quietly. “She’s ordered us to sever all links with you and your men.”
Angelchrist nodded. His face looked a little drawn and tired. “So be it,” he said, levelly, giving away very little.
“We do, however, have another possible lead in our investigation,” said Newbury. “I understand from the Prince of Wales that there are foreign agents abroad in London, and in particular agents of the Kaiser, here with the express intent of undermining the Queen’s position. It seems likely that they may be responsible for targeting the Crown agents in an effort to further such aims. Charles thought you may be able to shed further light on the subject.…”
“Indeed I can, Sir Maurice, but I fear it may not be the answer you’re looking for.” He glanced at Bainbridge. “I imagine you’ve noticed we have company?”
“If you mean that the place is swarming with Service men, then yes,” said Bainbridge. “I had rather noticed the fact.”
Angelchrist nodded. Again, he met Veronica’s eye, as if reading her mind, knowing that his explanation was needed more for her benefit than the others’; that he still had work to do to convince her of his trustworthiness. “You’re right about the Germans, in that they do have agents here in London. Their motives, however, are somewhat different from what you’ve imagined.”
“Go on,” said Veronica, drawn in to his explanation despite herself.
“The Kaiser fears his grandmother has designs on his throne. It’s clear that the Queen wishes to extend the reach of the Empire, but Wilhelm refuses to bend to her will. As a result, the Queen is furious with him, and he’s now attempting to arm himself in preparation for her reprisal.” Angelchrist glanced back at the search lamp. “Our investigations have suggested that the Kaiser’s agents will make an attempt to seize this experimental search lamp today. As you can see, it’s designed to be mounted beneath the gondola of an airship, so that the column of light might shine down upon the landscape or city streets below. However, a German hermetist, Gruder, has posited a theory that such a lamp could be focused through a narrow lens, intensifying the beam and turning it into a formidable weapon.”
“A focused beam of light and heat,” said Newbury, astounded. “The devastation they could wreak from the skies … They could set the entirety of London aflame.”