“Quite so,” said Angelchrist, lowering his voice. “Which is why we’re now surrounded by as many service men and women as I could muster. The creator and his plans have already been secured. We cannot allow them to get away with this prototype.”
“But why not simply remove the prototype?” asked Veronica. “Why leave it here in an exhibition hall full of people, at risk?”
“A trap,” replied Angelchrist. “An opportunity to send a message to the Kaiser, to put an end to the schemes of his agents here in London, at least for a while. If we can draw out his agents, expose them, perhaps even capture and interrogate some of them-well, then it will be worth the risk.”
“Even if innocent people are harmed in the cross fire?” asked Veronica, feeling her impatience swelling.
Angelchrist sighed. “We all have to make difficult decisions, Miss Hobbes. Surely you know that more than most.”
Veronica stiffened. What was he getting at? Did he know something about her, about the choices she had been forced to make?
“One thing I am sure of, however,” Angelchrist continued, “is that the Kaiser’s men are not responsible for the murders of the Queen’s agents. They’ve been single-minded as they’ve planned the execution of their mission. We were able to plant a double agent amongst their ranks, and he has given every indication that they are not even aware of the identity of the Queen’s agents, let alone harbouring any desire to murder them and abscond with their hearts. The Kaiser is not, contrary to the beliefs of some of the Court, spoiling for a war. He is simply working to raise his defences, should Her Majesty grow tired of his rebuttals and decide to put matters into the hands of the military. The theft of an experimental electric lamp would not be looked on kindly. The murder of the Queen’s prized agents would be quite another thing, tantamount to a declaration of war.”
“So you’ve lured us here under false pretences?” said Veronica, stiffly. “You’ve dragged us unwittingly into the middle of an operation.”
“Not at all,” said Angelchrist, his tone conciliatory. “Clarkson said you needed to understand what the Germans were planning.” He shrugged. “Since we couldn’t meet openly as once we might have, this seemed as good a way as any to demonstrate the veracity of my words. I wanted to demonstrate to both you and Sir Maurice the value of the Service, and to clear up any little misunderstandings regarding its motives.” He glanced from Newbury to Bainbridge. “And yes, I suppose I am guilty of wishing to have my friends by my side as we charge headlong into battle.”
Bainbridge nodded. He glanced at Veronica, and then back at Angelchrist. “You have my support, Archibald. And thank you. Although it damn well sets us back to the start. We’re no further towards discovering who’s responsible for these murders than when we found the first corpse.”
Newbury clapped Bainbridge on the shoulder. “It’s only a matter of time, Charles. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”
Veronica suppressed her frustration. She decided, for the others’ sake, that she would allow events to play out as intended. “So what next?” she asked Angelchrist, moderating her tone. “Do you know what the German agents are planning?”
Angelchrist smiled appreciatively. “There is soon to be a changeover of personnel,” he said, indicating the man in overalls operating the lamp, swinging it back and forth on its pivot to the appreciative murmurs of the audience. “The German agents have inveigled their way onto the exhibition staff. Once the changeover has occurred and a new operator has arrived, he’ll declare the lamp to be faulty and in need of repair. A crew of engineers will move in and begin dismantling the housing. We’ll step in at that point and apprehend the lot of them before they can get away, preferably with minimum disruption to the exhibition.” He glanced down at his pocket watch, which he’d extracted from his jacket whilst he talked. The long, golden chain pooled in his palm as he studied the timepiece. “In fact, the changeover is due to occur at any moment.”
“Forgive me, Archibald, but it sounds rather optimistic to imagine the German agents are simply going to roll over and give themselves up without a fight,” said Newbury, frowning.
“We’re ready for any eventuality,” said Angelchrist, patting his jacket pocket pointedly. Veronica could see from the bulk of it that he was carrying a pistol. She felt a cold sensation spreading throughout her stomach, something akin to dread. She feared this operation was not going to end well. As soon as they started shooting at one another, things would degenerate. Innocent people were going to end up dead.
She glanced round at the other faces in the audience, but she couldn’t tell which of them were Service men, or which might be German agents incognito, waiting for the signal to strike. She felt helpless, impotent.
Newbury gave her a gentle nudge to get her attention. When she looked round, he nodded in the direction of the lamp.
The man in overalls was glowering at his watch, clearly frustrated by the late arrival of his replacement. He sighed visibly, then circled the lamp on its pedestal one last time. Then, as if tired of waiting, he allowed the lamp to swing about in its housing, the beam stuttering briefly and then shutting off. “There will be another demonstration in a short while,” he announced to the gathered onlookers, before turning and excusing himself as he pushed through the sea of people. Within a few moments he’d been swallowed entirely by the crowd, disappearing as he waded off into the depths of the exhibition hall.
The gathered audience began to drift slowly away, other nearby exhibits catching their attentions. Veronica was grateful for that, at least-it might mean there was less chance of them being swept up in the coming altercation.
She glanced at Angelchrist, who was looking on intently, his foot tapping nervously as he waited. She felt Newbury’s grip on her elbow and allowed herself to be drawn away from the search lamp.
“I thought it best if we removed ourselves from the immediate vicinity,” said Newbury, quietly, in her ear. “We can always intervene if the situation demands it.”
Veronica nodded. She could feel his warm breath against the back of her neck as he leaned in. They were standing in the shadow of the giant bird enclosure, and just to her left she could sense the creatures eyeing her through the glass wall. She looked round to see one of them pawing at the ground with its talons, raking furrows into the heaped sand. It was as if the beast could sense the heightened tension in the vicinity and was responding in kind, ready to unleash all of its pent up energy and frustration. It saw her looking at it and stalked forward, craning its neck inquisitively to look her in the eye.
Veronica gave thanks for the plate glass that separated them. The creature, only a few feet away, was one of the most terrifying beasts she had ever seen, and as it bobbed its head, tracking her every movement, she felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck.
It opened its jaws and she saw a splash of goat’s blood make its way down its wriggling tongue and drip from the corner of its beak. She shuddered as she imagined what that beak could do to a human being if it were ever given the chance.
Thankfully, the beast appeared to give up on her then, turning to join its kin on the other side of the enclosure. Then, almost without warning, the bird twisted and lashed out, striking the glass pane violently with its beak. The panel shook in its frame but held.
Veronica started, but was reassured by Newbury’s grip on her arm. “Brutish creatures, aren’t they?” he said. She could tell from the timbre of his voice that he, too, was startled by the bird’s sudden attempt to break free.
“It’s more than that,” she said, taking a deep breath to regain her composure. “It’s the look in their eyes, too. They seem to understand what’s going on. It’s almost as if they’re taunting us.”