Jack Kane and the Statue of Liberty (13 page)

“A lady has to look her finest, and I’m not about to cover up my hair with a silly helmet. Now stop gawking and tell me what you think. I didn’t have much to work with here, and the only thing I could think of was to cover this one with lace to at least tone down the black.”

“It looks…nice.”

“Nice? I slave over making a mask while you gallivant away without telling me where you’re going, and all you’ve got to say about the mask I made all on my own from scraps you have laying around here is ‘nice’?”

“…and functional?”

“You’re a man who knows how to please a woman, aren’t you? Well, if you can’t compliment me on the fine job I did, at least you can take a lady out to get something to eat. I’m feeling peckish.”

“I’ve got some dried meat around here somewhere—”

“I will not be eating scraps of meat from the room where you sleep. Please, Mr. Kane, show a bit of class. I would like to eat something better than that.”

He suddenly realized he had stopped with the formalities Betsy liked so much. “My lady, would you be so kind as to allow me to escort you to a dining establishment where we may partake of some refreshment?”

“That’s better.” She removed the mask and considered the condition of his clothing. “But only after you change. What did you do? Take a dip in the bay?”

“Well, actually—”

“Tell me about it on the way.”

He hurried into the other room to change and dry off. He hung the wet clothes over the drain in the floor and transferred as many devices as he thought he’d need into the clean, dry black duster. This one he’d made from a rubbery, insulating material that wouldn’t get wet.

“I was thinking we should head to the top of the Waldorf Building. There’s a fine restaurant—”

“What?”

“Jack, you interrupted me.”

“So sorry, do go on,” he said as he walked into the front room.

“There’s a fine restaurant there that serves the best—”

“Is that wise? I mean—”

She planted her parasol in his chest and stamped a foot. “Stop interrupting me.”

“Quite right, do go on.” He wished she would change her mind. They had investigating to do and didn’t have time for running off for a lengthy meal atop the World’s Tallest Building.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely—”

“Betsy, please, not there. It’s so far away.”

“Jack! T! Kane!”

He hung his head.

“If you won’t let me say what I want, then I’ll tell you what you need to hear. There’s a shipment of piano wire coming in from an overseas zeppelin. It’ll arrive at the top of the Waldorf Building in a couple of hours. We have time to get there, have lunch, and then see what happens with this shipment.”

Jack’s head sprung up while she spoke.

“Oh, now you’re speechless?”

“How did you come by this information?”

“Mr. Kane, please. While my father was concerned with you being in his office I was able to get this.”

Betsy produced a schedule for all shipments arriving into New York that day via ship or zeppelin.

Jack stared at it. “It’s even a shipment for the Sohmer and Company piano company! Betsy, I could kiss you.”

“Just you keep that pucker to yourself until we figure out this mystery. Now, come along, and you can tell me all about what you found at the bottom of the bay.”

She looped her parasol handle around his arm and tugged him along. There wasn’t a chance to grab his satchel. Thankfully he still had a few energy cells in his pocket should he need to power anything up. He didn’t see his scooter and realized it wasn’t in the yard. It would be so much quicker to get to the Waldorf Building if they had his scooter.

“Jack? I think you had something to tell me. You keep getting this faraway look in your eye when I start talking to you.”

“I’m so sorry.” He removed his hat and fiddled with it, then returned it to his head. He didn’t know why it was so difficult to talk with Betsy. Knowing she knew his secret identity made him even more unnerved than usual around her.

“Well, be sorry later. What did you find?”

“I was at the bottom of the bay and there was all the ivory from the sunken ship. Also, the wreckage of the second ship.”

“You mean the ship that exploded?”

“Yes.”

“And? Did you get the name? Any indication who may have owned it? Anything?”

“I found a flag, but my submersible filled with smoke, and I wasn’t able to retrieve it.”

“I guessed something went wrong with it which is why you came back all wet. I didn’t want to beat you over the head with the obvious. Now stop avoiding the question, Jack. What did you find?”

“I found a Union Jack.”

She stopped walking, staring at the ground, obviously lost in thought as if putting a puzzle together. He had to pull her along to keep people from running into her.

“Betsy? Are you all right?”

She didn’t respond. He grew concerned at her continued silence.

“The names of the ship weren’t even close to the same, so why sink the
Manuel Llaguno
instead of the
Isere
? I mean, if the British are behind this, I could see them making a mistake if the names were similar.”

“Perhaps they couldn’t see the names?”

Betsy glanced at the shipping schedule. “In the early morning only two ships were to arrive at the pier—the
Manuel Llaguno
and the
Isere
. You said the French sailors told you the smaller ship had come at them first, then turned away and went to the other.”

“Yes, that’s what they said. What is your point?”

“I don’t think they meant to sink the shipment of ivory.” She gestured to the schedule. “If you look at specifications of the two ships, they’re nearly identical.”

“Yes, but one ship had a French flag and the other an American flag.”

“But it was dark. Maybe they guessed.”

“Betsy, Betsy, Betsy. People don’t guess when they blow something up. That would be far too random. Plus there’s the fact they also blew up the walking crane before it could get into the bay to recover the wreckage. That tells me there are bigger things afoot here than one simple shipment, and we need to get to the Waldorf Building before the next arrives.”

She changed the topic to lunch and all the different food they might be able to find at the restaurant at the top of the Waldorf Building. On the nearly three-mile walk Jack stopped trying to count the number of times his stomach grumbled. This whole mess had changed his morning routine so much he couldn’t even remember when he’d last eaten. Instead, he tried to think about what it was that hung on his mind. He was forgetting something.

“Jack! Look out!” Betsy jerked hard on his arm.

The tip of his boot dinged off a fire cart being propelled by a small rocket. He’d been so deep in thought he hadn’t even heard the blaring of the siren as it screamed down the cobbled road.

“Betsy? We should follow and help.” Without a thought his hand was inside his jacket to grab his mask.

“They’ve got it under control, Jack. Besides, most buildings have a track for the fire carts so it can get to any level quickly enough. We’d only get in the way, and I’m hungry. You promised me a delicious lunch, remember?”

Reluctantly he succumbed to the tugs on his arm. This time he took care to look up and down each street before they proceeded. It was so easy to get lost in the crush of people moving along in all directions. They passed the occasional horse and cart, an eight-legged crawler, and a number of mini-zeppelins that floated overhead taxiing people from location to location.

“…and I don’t think Daddy was any the wiser.” Betsy laughed as she swung her shoulder toward him to avoid running into a person weaving in between the crowd on a bike. He chuckled along with her. “So did you ever do anything without your parent’s permission?”

He had to think about that. “You know, I honestly don’t recall. I lost my parents when I was fairly young so it’s hard for me to remember these things. I grew up on the streets and started collecting things people would leave lying around, and before I knew it, I had an abandoned lot I would spend all day in. I started fixing stuff for people to make money to buy food—I never liked begging. I think that’s why I feel so at home in Felonious’ yard. It reminds me of when I was a kid.”

“Jack, stop. You’re going to make me cry. If I had my way I’d have you out of there in a heartbeat. That man is…oh, I don’t know. Now that I’ve seen where you live, I can’t stand it. We’ve got to find you a proper place.”

“That’s my work and my home. How can I go anywhere else?”

“That’s something we’ll have to talk about later. We’re here.”

He looked up at the magnificence that was the Waldorf Building.

Nine

Bennington was enjoying a quiet cup of tea in the kitchen when the house communicator buzzed. He got up from the table and pressed the speaking button. “You rang, my lord?”

“Yes, Bennington. I require you in laboratory three. Bring lunch and tea when you come,” Felonious said.

“As you wish, my lord.”

Bennington stepped away from the communicator and efficiently prepared a tray for his master, including a three-egg omelet and a pot of tea. He admired the rose pattern on the teapot, sighed and carried the tray from the room.

Felonious was sitting in an oil and grease stained chair when Bennington entered the room.

His trained eye took in the scene in an instant. Only a slight twitch betrayed his emotions about the oil-stained disaster that was laboratory three. “Your lunch, my lord.”

“Ah, Bennington. Excellent.” Felonious pulled the chair’s footstool closer to himself, leaving large black, handprints on the fabric. “Put the tray here, old man.”

Bennington didn’t bat an eyelash. “Yes, my lord.” He placed the tray in front of his master. “May I inquire, my lord, as to what you have been up to?”

Felonious lifted the lid off the tray and stared suspiciously at the steaming contents on the plate. “Is this the caviar omelet I requested, Bennington?”

“As far as you know, my lord,” he replied, without pause.

“Very good.” Felonious took a forkful of the omelet and gingerly put it into his mouth. He chewed for almost a minute. “It doesn’t really taste like anything more than normal egg omelet.”

“As you say, my lord.”

“Fish eggs are considered posh, are they?” Felonious asked, taking another bite.

“Very much so, my lord.”

Felonious shrugged. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about, but…” He shoveled another forkful into his mouth. “I guess I could develop a taste for it.”

Bennington decided to take another stab at getting information from his master. “So, my lord. What is it you are working on?”

Felonious waved a fork in the direction of the robot, getting a glob of egg on the chair’s upholstery. “Robot has developed a leak. I’m trying to figure out a way to fix it without tearing the damnable machine apart.”

“I am guessing that, by your appearance, the leaking substance is a petroleum product?”

“Oil, Bennington. It has developed an oil leak.”

“I assume it is unwise to expose said oil to a flame of any kind?”

“Might blow the whole building up,” Felonious said. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Bennington said, as he discretely removed the torch ends from the gas welder.

“I must find a way to plug the leak so the gearing doesn’t seize when the robot is in motion.”

“Perhaps chewing gum is the answer,” Bennington said, handing a wrapped stick to Felonious.

He considered the gum for several moments before a big grin covered his face. “That’s it! Well done, Bennington.” He took Bennington’s hand and vigorously shook it, staining the man’s ever-present glove.

Felonious jumped to his feet and rushed over to the robot, climbing the service ladder like a monkey.

Bennington regarded his ruined white glove. With a grimace he peeled it from his hand and delicately dropped it into a nearby trash receptacle. He then reached into his jacket and pulled an identical glove from an inside pocket, which he pulled onto the pale white hand.

He shook his head and allowed himself a small sigh as he surveyed the oil-stained room. Perhaps coating everything in some sort of drop cloth or oil proof tarp material would provide the necessary protection. Or, he could have the entire room clad in metal.

Whatever he did, he was confident it wouldn’t be enough.

~ * ~

It wasn’t that the building was tall, or that it took up nearly the entire block. Or even that it took them five minutes to get to the entrance of the building. It was the mass of lifts on the outside of the building that amazed Jack. He’d been on a lift before, but these lifts ascended and dropped at a rapid rate carrying enormous loads of goods that were delivered to the top of the building via zeppelin. Once at the bottom, trucks, trains, walkers, and carts took those loads off in every direction to be delivered.

The building itself stretched between 6
th
and 5
th
, taking up the entire city block and rose high enough into the sky the zeppelins were tiny near the inverted cone that made the top of the structure. The zeppelins themselves not only ran along the top of the building in a ring, but were also stacked in several layers. The pilots of those vessels had to be masters to dock such massive airships in three dimensions instead of pulling alongside a dock and being tied. If there was a hub of Long Island this was it. No matter how many times he saw the Waldorf Building, its engineering never failed to leave him stunned.

“Stop gawking. I’ll pass out from hunger if I let you stare at the building,” Betsy said.

“Did you see the number of ships?”

“Yes, all well and good. Come now. The restaurant is a long way up. Let’s get going.”

Four gray, marble statues of twenty foot angels having wingspans nearly as wide as the lobby screamed opulence. The same gray marble had been used on the floor and walls. On the far wall was the bank of passenger elevators, twenty in all. If the magnificence of the building’s entrance wasn’t enough, the designers had placed directly in the middle of the elevator bank, a huge waterfall that disappeared high into the ceiling.