“And what has led you to this conclusion?” continued the Prince. It was clear he was not entirely enamoured with Newbury’s revelation.
“Yesterday there was a bungled operation at an exhibition at the Crystal Palace,” said Newbury.
“Yes, I read about it in The Times,” interjected the Prince. “I understand one of the exhibits broke free and set out on a murderous rampage. Something to do with a new species of carnivorous bird they discovered in the Congo last year?”
Newbury couldn’t help but smile. Once again, Bainbridge had worked his magic with the press, and the stories had focused on the rampant giant birds instead of the gun battle that had preceded, and indeed enabled, their escape. “I rather think The Times is reporting only a small portion of the truth, Your Royal Highness,” he said. He measured his next words carefully. “I was in attendance with Miss Hobbes and Sir Charles Bainbridge. I saw what happened. The birds escaped because the Secret Service stepped in to foil the machinations of the Kaiser. There was a gun battle, and a stray shot damaged the bird’s enclosure, providing the beasts with the opportunity to break free. The real story-the one I imagine has been kept out of the news-is that the German agents showed their hand, and the Secret Service prevented them from gaining possession of a dangerous weapon.”
Albert Edward leaned back in his chair. He studied Newbury’s face, chewing thoughtfully on his lip. He was about to speak when there was a polite rap on the door. They both looked round to see Barclay enter with a small silver tray bearing the Prince’s drink, along with a box of cigars and a cutter.
The butler scuttled over without a word, swept up a small occasional table with his left hand, and laid everything out neatly before the Prince. His eyes never met Newbury’s as he quit the room moments later, pulling the door nearly closed-but not shut-behind him.
The Prince reached for his drink and gulped down a generous draught. He eyed Newbury over the top of the glass. “So, what you’re telling me, Newbury, is that some of the Kaiser’s agents were involved in a plot to steal … what? A weapon from the exhibition?” He sounded more than a little sceptical.
“An electric search lamp designed to be mounted on the underbelly of an airship. It’s thought that they hoped to magnify its beam through a glass lens to turn it into a weapon. When fired from above, the concentrated beam of light would-they hoped-work to incinerate the city below,” said Newbury.
“Good Lord,” said Albert Edward. “This works precisely to prove my point, Newbury. The Kaiser is arming himself with a view to laying waste to London. He intends to make a play for control of the Empire.”
“My contacts assure me, Your Royal Highness, that the Kaiser’s operation was intended to secure the weapon only for the purposes of defence,” said Newbury, cautiously.
“Balderdash!” said the Prince. “When examined in concert with the murders, there is only one logical conclusion. The Kaiser is planning war.”
“But that’s just it, Your Royal Highness,” said Newbury, stifling his exasperation. “I do not believe that the German agents are responsible for the murders.”
“On what grounds?” demanded the Prince.
Newbury took a deep breath, attempting to steady his nerves. “Firstly, I do not believe the Kaiser would show his hand so willingly at the exhibition if his real motive was to undermine Her Majesty’s power by murdering her agents. Surely he would have more success in that regard if his operation remained clandestine. Secondly-and more importantly-I attended the scene of one of the deaths this very morning, and I’m convinced there is a ritualistic significance to the excision of the victims’ hearts. The killer is taking them as trophies, leaving his victims heartless as some form of symbolic gesture. I have yet to ascertain what the precise significance of this macabre exercise is, but I feel I am drawing closer.”
The Prince was frowning again. “I urge you not to be too hasty in your conclusions, Newbury,” he said. “I fear you may miss something of fundamental importance if you pursue these concerns over a potential German plot. It would not do to leave ourselves vulnerable to attack.”
“Rest assured, Your Royal Highness, I shall not allow the matter to rest. You made your feelings regarding the Secret Service very clear to me during my previous visit, but I can attest to the integrity of their agents’ handling of the affair at the Crystal Palace. They, too, are independently attempting to discover the truth regarding the Kaiser’s intentions. When combined with my own efforts towards the same end, I believe we can keep the matter under strict observation. In the meanwhile, I shall continue to pursue any leads I have into the murders of Her Majesty’s agents, and I shall aid Scotland Yard in bringing the perpetrator to justice. I will not fail.”
“No,” said Albert Edward, resignedly, draining the last of his drink. “I do not doubt it.”
Newbury offered him a quizzical expression, but the Prince did not elaborate any further. The moment stretched. “Did you manage, Your Royal Highness, to resolve your little problem?” asked Newbury, hoping to alleviate the tension somewhat by changing the subject.
The Prince, however, offered him the darkest of looks in reply. “My … little problem?” he said, urging Newbury to explain. Clearly, Newbury had unwittingly touched a nerve.
“Forgive me, Your Royal Highness. I meant no offense. I was merely enquiring after your success in the matter of the condemned hotel.”
The Prince’s frown turned almost immediately into a jovial smile. “Oh, that. Yes, I’d almost forgotten. The matter is in hand. There’s very little in this world that cannot be resolved by the judicious application of money, Newbury.”
Newbury laughed, but he couldn’t help feeling that the Prince appeared somewhat relieved to discover Newbury was referring to his recent endeavours in the property market and not some other, undisclosed affair. Something it was clear he’d be uncomfortable discussing with Newbury.
The matter left Newbury with a rather unsavoury feeling, but he tried his best to put it out of mind. After all, he supposed there were many things of a sensitive nature that the Prince might find himself involved in. It was not Newbury’s place to pry.
“Well, if that is all…” ventured the Prince. “I imagine we both have our hands rather full.” The tone of the interview had changed. Gone now was the playful informality of earlier. It was clear the Prince had something on his mind, and that he wished to be left alone.
“Yes, thank you, Your Royal Highness. Once again, your support in this matter has been most appreciated,” said Newbury, getting to his feet. He clutched the envelope tightly by his side. He looked round to see the door to the hall already open, and Barclay waiting for him on the threshold, a tight smile on his lips.
“Good day, Newbury,” said the Prince. “And let me just say how much I admire your tenacity. Observing you at work is a lesson for us all.”
“Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” said Newbury. He gave a short bow, then left the room, refusing to acknowledge the sneering butler on his way out.
CHAPTER 22
It had been months since Newbury had last visited Aldous Renwick at his unusual bookshop off Tottenham Court Road. As he approached unannounced at this late hour in the afternoon, he couldn’t help but feel a stirring of guilt. Renwick was a friend as much as he was a source of information and rare, specialist books, and Newbury had ignored him of late, just as he’d ignored so much of import in his life in recent months. Or, more truthfully, he’d ignored Renwick until he’d needed something, at which point he’d sent the man an apologetic note, requesting his urgent help. No wonder he was feeling guilty, he chided himself. It was no way to treat a friend.