Sigmund Shaw: A Steampunk Adventure (22 page)

22.

Despite the sleepless night Chief Inspector Gabriel Holmes entered his office early. The walk over in the brisk air helped wake him up and focus his thoughts. Walking through the main doors, Holmes noticed a few others had also arrived early, but not too many. Once in his office, he closed the door and sat heavily behind his desk. How does one go about investigating the Defence Minister? The answer: Very, very carefully.

Holmes hated that he had to be so cautious. The direct approach is almost always best, but there was too much unknown to proceed that way. The word of Sigmund Shaw wasn’t strong enough by itself for the kind of action that it was leading to. No, Holmes would need a more subtle approach.
Anthony Tolhurst
.

Tolhurst was a friend of Holmes from his time in the army. And Tolhurst happened to work at the Defence Ministry. A lower level employee – he was never ambitious – but as dependable as they come. With Holmes drive and Tolhurst’s lack of one, it made for an unlikely friendship, but somehow they got along well.

Holmes hadn’t spoken to Tolhurst in a few months. Despite the fact that they got along well, Holmes wasn’t the sort to have close friends – preferring evenings alone to nights in the theatre or restaurants.

Interrupting his thoughts, Sergeant Monroe knocked and opened the door. Holmes looked at the clock – it was time for the morning report. “Good morning Sergeant. Anything new to report?” Holmes was certain that there was not. How could there be? They had been looking in the wrong places.

Sergeant Monroe said in a firm voice, “No, sir, nothing new to report.”

Holmes was about to dismiss him, but then said, “Sergeant, let’s remove the watchmen. I would like them recalled and assigned back to normal duty.”

Holmes could see the Sergeant’s angst at this request and decided to allow it, “Sergeant, please speak freely. I think you disagree with this approach.”

Monroe hesitated, but eventually said, “With all due respect, Chief Inspector, if Sigmund Shaw is still in London our best chance of finding him is to watch his known haunts. My concern is for you, Chief Inspector, as it might look as if you are giving up.”

Holmes was glad that Monroe felt comfortable enough to give his opinion in this way. Holmes answered, “I appreciate your concern. I assure you that I am not giving up, far from it. But I cannot keep expending these resources on fruitless endeavors. I am developing a new approach. Allow me a little time to finalize it and I will share, but not quite yet.”

Holmes could see that Monroe was somewhat confused and he felt bad for keeping the new details from him, but there was too much at stake. Even the trusted Sergeant Monroe could be a liability if Holmes was wrong in his belief of Sigmund.

Monroe stiffened his back and said, “Very well, sir. I will recall the men.”

“Thank you, Sergeant, you are dismissed.”

Without another word, Monroe left. Holmes leaned back in his chair and stared at his door in thought. This was very unsure ground he found himself upon. There was danger of a sort he hadn’t faced before – political. Mortal danger was involved as well but that came with the profession. But to have to step carefully around a political landscape was new and frustrating territory. A wrong move and he could be crushed. If the Defence Minister was not off limits to an assassin’s bomb, a Chief Inspector would certainly not be.

Putting these thoughts aside, he stood up, smoothed his jacket, grabbed his derby hat and goggles and headed out. He hoped that Tolhurst would have some useful information.

The walk to the ministry was not far, being located in Westminster, and Holmes reached it in only a few minutes. Walking through the entrance he approached the reception area and asked for Anthony Tolhurst. The kind woman behind the desk took his name, asked Holmes to wait as she stood up and walked down the hall. After a minute or so she returned and told Holmes to follow her. After a brief walk they reached their destination, a door with a plate that said
Tolhurst
. Holmes entered as the lady walked back towards the entrance.

Inside the small, windowless office, was a shelf full of books along one wall, and a desk that faced the door. Behind the desk was his friend, a small man with blonde hair and an unfortunately large nose. He smiled as he saw Holmes enter.

“Holmes!” Tolhurst said, “An unexpected surprise. How are you, old man?”

Holmes returned the smile, genuinely happy to see his friend. He answered, “I’m healthy, if that is what you mean. Other than that, things could be better.”

Tolhurst nodded, “Right, the Bomb Bandit is still at large.”

Holmes bristled at the name, but let it go. “I am here to see if you could help me.”

A look of astonishment washed over Tolhurst’s face, “My dear Holmes, how could I possibly help you? Would you like me to file some papers or rewrite some briefs?”

Holmes smiled at the humor, “No, nothing like that. I need some information. What do you know about a growing faction in the government that wants war?”

Tolhurst’s smile dropped and his face became deadly serious. Without a word he grabbed a piece of paper and wrote something down. Finished, he gave the note to Holmes and said, “You and your jokes, Holmes. Very amusing. I actually thought you were here for my help. Tell me, are you still out near Tottenham Court?”

While Tolhurst was speaking Holmes read the note that was passed to him:

Not safe to talk here. Go along with my conversation. We will go outside.

Holmes eyes narrowed. Clearly he was on to something. Almost forgetting to respond to the question that he had been asked, he finally said, “Yes, Tottenham Court. I have no desire to move.”

“Such a bother. You know, Holmes, I was about to get some tea. Would you like to join me?”

“Absolutely, that sounds fine.”

Tolhurst stood up and pointed at the upper corner of his office behind Holmes. When Holmes turned to see what was being pointed at, he was surprised to see a what looked like a brass flower attached to a tube that disappeared into the ceiling. He gave a puzzled look at Tolhurst who simply shook his head and headed out of the office.

Holmes followed him down the hall and out of the building – neither one speaking. Once outside, Tolhurst flagged a steam car, gave the driver instructions, and got in leaving the door open for Holmes. Holmes hesitated for a moment but got in. It was, after all, his idea to talk with his friend.

As the steam car left the curb, Holmes asked, “What was that thing by the ceiling? Looked like a Victrola speaker cone.”

“Officially it is a speaker for ministry wide announcements,” Tolhurst huffed. “But since its installment, there have been no announcements from it. The real reason is so that others can listen to what is happening in the rooms throughout the ministry. They have been installed in every office that I am aware of.”

“Where does it lead, who monitors?”

“Although I’ve never actually seen it, the rumor is that it goes to a listening room inside the Defence Minister’s office. Nothing happens without the possibility of him or one of his assistants, I guess, listening.”

“My word.” Holmes sat stunned at the audacity of this creation. Regrouping his thoughts for a few seconds, he asked a question that he now already knew the answer to, “Anthony, the war faction, it is real, isn’t it?”

Tolhurst nodded and said, “It is. Speaking openly about it is a very good way to get killed. I’m sure you are aware of Marcus Pratt. His lips being sown shut was a message about what happens to people who talk too much. Why exactly are you asking?”

Holmes wondered how much to say. Could he tell his friend everything? Anything? He finally decided to ask, “Where do you stand with regards to this faction? Are you for the war they are promoting or not?”

Tolhurst thought for a moment. Holmes was hoping for an immediate answer, for in his mind there was nothing to consider. Tolhurst said, “I am not with the faction. Their arguments are persuasive but I cannot support the death that the war would bring.”

Holmes nodded, “We are in agreement. What can you tell me about them?”

“Not much.” Tolhurst admitted. “The general behavior is that if you are not with them then you stay away from them. However, it is believed that they have some powerful allies. Perhaps even some Royals.”

Holmes eyes grew wide at this. The Royal family could not possibly be involved, could they?

Tolhurst continued, “A sort of fervor has been felt, more than seen, since the death of Defence Minister Sloan. It feels like something is coming to a head, and soon. Gabriel, I urge you not to get involved. Let the government hash this out. I have to believe cooler minds will prevail. To talk of war is one thing but to actually create and participate in it, is quite another. That said, this faction is dangerous…” Tolhurst eyes grew wide and then said, “The bomb. They are responsible, aren’t they. This Sigmund Shaw was working for them!”

Holmes didn’t want to say too much, but since his friend had already guessed, he said, “I believe so. Shaw was probably an unfortunate bystander, but I do believe that the bomb was set by the faction.”

Tolhurst, agitated greatly by the turn of the conversation exclaimed, “All the more reason for you to let it go. They will kill you, Gabriel. As a friend, I’m begging you to walk away.”

Holmes turned away from his friend and looked out the window. He hardly registered the passing buildings and people on the sidewalks – he realized for the first time that without a doubt, Sigmund was telling the truth.

He wondered how he should proceed. He couldn’t get Tolhurst involved any more than he already had, that was for sure. But he couldn’t just walk up to his supervisor and tell him that the new Defence Minister is behind the bombing – he had no proof but hearsay. Proof! That was something he needed and was lacking. He hoped Sigmund was having better success on that front.

23.

Sigmund was once again in Richard Sutton’s office. Most any place was better to spend time in than the stables. Zachary, the monkey, was sleeping in his spot on top of the shelves. Most of the morning Sigmund and Zachary had been playing a sort of tag game. There wasn’t much else to do while they waited for Sutton to return.

As noon came and went, Sigmund started to get antsy. He felt like he should be doing something, not just waiting on others. However, Sutton had told him to wait as he had an idea to find out where the factory, or factories, were located that were using the amalgam cube.

With a sigh Sigmund pulled out his watch again, after 2 pm now, and felt his stomach start to protest. He hadn’t eaten anything since early that morning, back at the stables, prior to returning to this office.

Looking up at Zachary, he asked, “You hungry?” The monkey’s little face lit up, evidently understanding something in what Sigmund said – Zachary must have been hungry as well. Sigmund laughed, “Yeah, me too. Know where any food is?”

The monkey jumped down off the shelf to the work table below then launched himself from the table to Sigmund’s shoulder. Not sure what the monkey was up to, it took a moment to realize that he was grooming Sigmund’s hair. He was about to protest when the door opened and Richard Sutton walked in.

Sutton took in the two of them and said, “Really, Zachary. Could we not groom our guests? It implies things.”

Sigmund laughed and then noticed a bag in Sutton’s hand and asked, “That’s not some lunch, perchance, is it?”

Sutton smiled, “Yes, it is. I figured you would be hungry and I apologize for my absence. But it wasn’t for nothing.”

Sutton walked around his desk and sat down. From the bag he produced meat, fruit, cheese, and bread. Zachary grabbed a pear and climbed back to his spot to eat. Sigmund placed some meat and cheese on a slice of bread and ate.

“I believe I have located the factory.” Stated Sutton simply.

“Just like that? One of the most terrible secret in the world and you found it in half a day?”

Sutton smiled and said, “I did. You forget, it’s my design that they are working with. I simply told the person that I had given the designs to that there was a fatal flaw. I had an updated design to give that corrected it. From there I was passed around to several people until I finally was directed to a courier who would take the updated design to the lead builder. I followed the courier until he arrived at a warehouse in Battersea.”

Sigmund was impressed. It was a smart plan and executed well. “You’ve outdone yourself, Richard! Battersea warehouse? Isn’t that where they are proposing the new power plant?”

“Yes. I’ve seen the proposed design, it is impressive. We’ll see if it ever happens. I take it that you are familiar with that area?”

“I’ve been that way a couple times, although it’s not one of my normal stops. The factory is right along the Thames if I remember correctly.”

“That is the place. It’s a rather large warehouse and I’m sorry to say formidable.”

“Formidable, how so?”

“I’ve seen warehouses with gates and walls about it before, to keep out any opportunistic individuals, but this place looks like a fortress. Its surrounding walls must be fifteen feet high at least, and the gate is thick iron and protected by guards. One glimpse of the place and I knew it was what we are looking for.”

“Nothing has been easy so far, why should this be any different.”

“You are still determined to break in, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Sigmund nodded. “I need proof, something tangible. I think Chief Inspector Holmes believes me but he must be powerless to act on just my words.”

“Why doesn’t Holmes go to the factory?” pleaded Sutton. “Or, why don’t I go with you to Holmes, surely the two of us could convince him?”

“Convincing him is not the problem. Like I said, I think he believes me. Even if he went to the factory, what would he find? Machines being built by the direction of Grimkraken – not exactly illegal. We need proof that the cube exists. That’s why I’m going – no more theories.”

“I’d like to talk you out of this. I’m sure there is another way.”

Sigmund looked at his watch again, nearly 3 pm. “If you can come up with a better idea before nightfall, then I’ll listen, otherwise I’ll be leaving once the sun sets. While you are coming up with ideas, I think I would like to peruse your lab and see what I might find that could help me.”

By sundown, a better idea was not given – or at least not accepted by Sigmund.

At 7:00 pm Sigmund stepped outside of the Academy for Future Science building. The summer sky still had life left in it, but was fading fast. It would be suitably dark by the time he arrived at Battersea. With a bag slung around his neck, hat and goggles in place, he was as ready as he was going to be. Being that his current location was on the river and his destination was also on the river, Sigmund decided to risk water conveyance. He loved boats ever since he was a child and couldn’t resist the draw. He figured that if a ship captain recognized him midstream, he could probably make a water escape.

Walking to the end of the dock outside the Academy building, he began searching the boats along the river to see if any were in a position to take on a passenger. Before long he spotted a small skiff, smoke billowing out of its engine, that had a captain and no one else. Sigmund waved his arms until the boat caught sight of him and headed over.

As the skiff expertly pulled up against the dock, Sigmund, with his hat low over his eyes and his overcoat collar turned up, asked, “How much for a ride to Battersea Park area?”

The captain, a middle aged man, rough beard and wind chapped red cheeks, looked Sigmund up and down – making Sigmund immediately regret his choice – and then said, “One pound.”

It was outrageously high but Sigmund agreed, he really did not want to prolong the conversation. Climbing onboard, he found a spot in the back of the skiff next to a box that smelled like fish. Outside of the smell, the ride down the Thames was pleasant, or it would have been if Sigmund wasn’t constantly looking for signs that the captain knew who he was. But the boat stayed true, not deviating off to any of the docks, a sign that the captain might want to unload his cargo, perhaps to get a bit of a reward.

The evening continued on towards darkness as the boat slipped down the river. Sigmund felt the coldness of the advancing evening and rubbed his shoulders. The chug of the engine and the sound of the passing water helped calm Sigmund’s nerves some, both from the captain and the task ahead that he had set for himself. Twenty minutes later the boat neared a dock, not too far from the warehouse, maybe a quarter mile. The warehouse was everything that Sutton had said and more. The wall that surrounding the factory was at least as tall as described and there were electric lights on each of its corners, illuminating the surrounding terrain. This was going to be harder than he thought.

Being that the danger of being recognized by the captain had passed, Sigmund decided to push his good fortune a little. He said to the captain, “I’m a reporter. I’ve been asked to investigate the warehouse here.” He pointed towards the building, “Rumor has it that are some strange goings-on. Have you seen anything?”

The captain looked ahead to the warehouse then turned to Sigmund and said, “Aye, I’ve witnessed a few strange things. They built that wall around the place as if it was a medieval castle. On occasion I’ve heard noises, banging unlike anything I’ve ever come across before. I’ll tell you, son, you mind yourself if you are heading there. Something queer is afoot. I can’t imagine that they will be too welcoming to visitors.”

Sigmund nodded and said, “Thanks, captain, I will be careful.” He paid the fare and watched as the boat pulled away from the dock and continued on down the Thames. Compared to what he was planning to do, to disappear down the Thames sounded pretty good.

A couple of buildings lined the waterfront leading to the warehouse – small factories and processing plants. Sticking to the shadows, Sigmund moved to the last building before the fortified factory and was able to have a close look at his target. It resembled a prison with its large walls, lights, and large brick building in the middle. Things had definitely changed since his last time here. Sigmund found a comfortable spot in the shadows and decided it would be best to just observe for a while, to look for guards, to look for weaknesses.

The main entrance to the walls was on the opposite side of the river. Sigmund could see at least one person stationed there. On the river side, there was also an entrance, which made sense for cargo deliveries. This too looked to be guarded. As he continued watching, he was relieved that there didn’t seem to be any patrols, at least on the outside of the walls. After some time, Sigmund grew colder but was glad to see that his waiting was rewarded, for he saw the front gates open and a bus leave the compound, probably carrying a contingent of workers. This was a good sign, perhaps the factory would be shutting down for the night. That would make Sigmund’s task easier.

The night became full and Sigmund checked his watch by the little bit of light that reached him from the factory. He had been watching now for well over two hours. It had been more than thirty minutes since the bus left and there had been no other activity since. Not seeing the point of waiting any longer, he stood up from his spot and stretched his sore muscles.  The approach he decided on was simple: get to the wall and climb over it.  He didn’t want to mess with any of the guards at either entrance.  The problem was that there were no shadows he could use to get to the wall.  His hope was that there were no watchman other than at the gates.  He should be able to approach the side wall and not have anyone see him – despite being visible. Without the aid of any shadow or cover, Sigmund simply ran as fast as he could and prayed that there was no one peeking over the wall at that moment. The lights on his skin felt warm and the thought of being fully exposed was beyond unsettling. At least the ground was dry and he was able to move quickly. When he reached the wall, he put his back up against it and waited, listening for any sound of alarm – outside of his own heavy breathing, he could hear nothing.

He took another minute to catch his breath and then pulled a rope and grappling hook from out of his bag. The hook was something he manufactured with Sutton that afternoon, welding three hooks to a small metal post and attaching a rope. Making sure there was plenty of slack in the rope, Sigmund heaved it up and over the wall. As the hook fell on the other side, the rope pulled tight and Sigmund could hear a clinking sound as the hook hit the back of the wall.  It sounded loud to Sigmund but no other noises followed, no alarms raised. He pulled on the rope slowly, allowing the hook a chance to find purchase of something. After a few hand over hand pulls, the rope stopped, the hook had anchored. Giving it some strong tugs he verified that whatever it was hooked on was not going to give. Putting one foot on the wall, Sigmund grabbed the rope and started pulling himself up while using his feet to ‘walk’ up the barrier. Near the top he let go of the rope with his right hand and reached out and grabbed the top of the wall. Pulling on the rope and on the wall, he lifted his body up on top of it – which was about three feet wide – and relaxed his tired arms. Laying face down, he got his first glimpse of the courtyard area, the area between the wall and the warehouse. There were crates stacked in different areas and a few carts. More importantly, there was no one in sight. He waited on top of the wall, allowing time for a guard on his rounds to appear, and sure enough, there was one.

The guard came around the back of the building – the river side – and was making a clockwise circuit and would pass right under Sigmund location. Sigmund didn’t move and didn’t make a sound. Unless he had a reason to, the guard would probably not look up. If he did then Sigmund would be spotted fairly easily. The guard came closer, his lantern light highlighting the space in front of him, and then he stopped not far from Sigmund’s location. Sigmund held his breath and didn’t take his eyes off the watchman. The guard fumbled in his pockets and produced a cigarette and a matchbox. He struck the match and lit his cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling blue swirling smoke. The displeasing smell reached Sigmund despite his best attempts not to breath. Another moment and the guard started walking again. Another two minutes and he was around the front of the factory and out of sight.

Sigmund took the grappling hook and attached it to the outside edge of the wall and let the rope fall on the inside, partially hidden by some crates. He lowered himself down and decided to chance leaving the rope. It was in shadows and behind some crates which would make it hard to spot unless someone was looking for it. It would be nice to have it ready in case of the need for a quick escape.