The Educated Ape & other Wonders of the Worlds (27 page)

Down the stairs
at speed went Cameron Bell, then out through the front door and over to the
steam charabanc. He placed the parrot’s cage containing his slumbering friend
beside it and drew from beneath the passenger couch his Gladstone bag.

Within the tall,
narrow house, Miss Lavinia Dharkstorrm kicked the stirring henchman. ‘Get up,
you buffoon,’ she shouted at him.

Cameron Bell
rooted in his Gladstone. Darwin snored now in his cage.

Miss Lavinia
Dharkstorrm tore the brown paper wrappings from the parcel and opened the lid
of the box that lay revealed. The reliquary casket golden glittered, and Miss
Lavinia smiled.

Cameron Bell
removed from his Gladstone bag a small brass box and extended from this a slim
and telescopic rod of steel.

Miss Lavinia
Dharkstorrm took up the holy casket and gently eased open its lid to reveal—

The
dynamite.

And
the brass mechanism.

Mr Cameron Bell
ducked down behind the charabanc and planted his finger upon a button marked
FIRE. The tall and narrow house exploded with a deafening roar that raised
queer birds from roosts around and about. Mr Bell curled up in a ball as debris
tumbled hither and thither.

At the
spaceport, the other Mr Bell (the one who had stolen the reliquary from
Princess Pamela and delivered the bomb into the hands of the tartan-clad
henchman — the Mr Bell from the future
[16]
)
strolled across the landing strip and boarded a battered Martian hulk named the
Marie Lloyd.

At
the controls and awaiting his return sat an elderly monkey. This monkey’s name
was Darwin.

‘Did
it work?’ the future monkey asked the future Mr Bell. ‘Did your former self
rescue me and blow up the wicked witch and not get either of us killed?’

‘Apparently
so,’ said the future Mr Bell, ‘for we are both still alive.’

‘Splendid,’
said Darwin. ‘Then, as agreed, we will tamper no more with the past.’ The
monkey pilot plucked up a banana from a case that rested beside his seat. ‘When
shall we go to next?’ he asked. ‘Any particular time that takes your fancy?’

Mr
Bell had been giving this matter some thought. ‘I would like to travel back to
the year eighteen-eighteen,’ he said. ‘I would really like to know whether the
chicken’s theory about the Creation is actually correct.’

‘Good
idea,’ said Darwin, between great munchings of banana. ‘I had quite forgotten
about the chickens. Let’s go travelling back and take a look.’

25

uietly
waited the present-day Mr Bell until the flames died down. Then, ray gun in
hand, he kicked amongst the wreckage. If anything had lived through the
explosion, the detective had every intention of seeing that it lived no longer.

The
thought that he had actually been responsible for the death of a woman was not
one that Mr Bell savoured. But he
had
offered her the chance to change
her evil ways and she
had
refused him.

But
what of the
mistress
she claimed to serve?

Cameron
Bell did further kickings amongst the wreckage and presently uncovered the
bejewelled reliquary. It sparkled unsullied, completely unmarked.

‘I
rather suspected it would be indestructible,’ said Mr Bell, lifting it from the
ashes. He delved into a pocket, took out the holy relic itself and dropped it
back into its casket. Then, satisfied that all was now safe, removed the
still-snoring Darwin from his imprisonment, placed him on the passenger couch
and, having stoked up the boiler with only minor scaldings, drove the steam
charabanc back to the New Dorchester Hotel.

Here
Mr Bell tucked Darwin into bed and paid off the lounging boys who had formed an
orderly queue at his door.

He
paid each in turn according to services rendered. Two for painting anarchist
graffiti upon the walls of the hotel and the arrivals hall. One for acquiring
dynamite for Mr Bell and another three for setting off charges at the spaceport
upon the stroke of eight. When all was done to Mr Bell’s satisfaction, he shook
the hands of the lounging boys, advised them to maintain the stoniest of
silences regarding their endeavours and bade them all a fond farewell.

Darwin
slept on and after lunch Mr Bell set out aboard the steam charabanc to the
berth of the royal tug.

The
helmsman looked quite happy to see Mr Bell once more. ‘I have heard nothing
regarding my wage rise,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you might broach the subject again
when you next see the princess.

‘I
would be pleased to do so,’ said Mr Bell. ‘Make haste now, if you will.’

Princess Pamela
was also happy to see Mr Bell once more. She was enjoying a prolonged lunch all
by herself and beckoned him to join her.

‘I
have just eaten, thank you, ma’am,’ said the detective, tapping at his belly as
he did so, ‘but only to restore my energies after the protracted but successful
struggle to reacquire your precious reliquary.’ And he displayed the treasure
in all its glittering twinkliness.

‘Ey-oop,
lad,’ cried the princess, laying down her eating irons and clapping pink palms
together. ‘Thou art a credit to thy calling. Didst thou bring the culprit with
thee? We’ll spit him oop for a roast.’

‘It
was a struggle to the death,’ said Cameron Bell in a tone that implied that it
really
really
was. ‘Only I survived to tell the tale.’

‘Well
done, lad.’ The princess clapped her hands some more. ‘I won’t get up, so pat
thyself on the back.’

Mr
Bell attempted this but found it quite impossible.

‘Regarding
two matters,’ said he. ‘Firstly, I desire that the spaceport be reopened to me,
as I am anxious to return to Earth. And—’

‘And
secondly thou’d like thy pay?’ asked the princess, tucking into further lunch.

‘Correct,’
said the detective, eyeing tasty morsels as he did so. And noting that Château
Doveston was the lunchtime choice of champagne.

‘In
truth, lad,’ crowed the princess, ‘I never ‘ad the spaceport closed to thee.’

‘Ah,’
said Mr Bell.

‘But
then neither did I ‘ave any intention of eating thee.’

‘Ah,
indeed,’ said Mr Bell.

‘But
then neither did I ‘ave any intention of paying thee a reward.’

‘Ah,
indeed, indeed,’ said Mr Bell.

‘So
all’s well that ends well, eh?’

Mr
Bell cocked his head on one side. He was not quite sure about
that.

‘Might
I take a glass of champagne,’ he asked, ‘to celebrate the return of your
precious item?’

Princess
Pamela smiled and poured the detective a glass. ‘If truth be told,’ she said as
she passed it over, ‘I couldn’t give a pigeon’s doodah for that reliquary.’

‘Oh?’
said Cameron Bell.

‘It
was the principle of the thing. Folk canst not steal from me. That’s not on
t’cards, my lad. No, and again I tell thee, no.

‘I
understand,’ said Cameron Bell, a-tasting of champagne.

‘Tell
thee what,’ said Princess Pamela. ‘How’s about this, then? How’dst thou care to
join me on my cruise? Six months here in t’palace, all the way round Mars on
t’Grand Canal?’

Mr
Bell tasted further champagne. ‘That is a very tempting offer,’ said he.

‘We
might get t’know each other more closely.’ The princess winked lewdly at the
drinking detective.

The
drinking detective coughed champagne up his nose. ‘That,’ said he, ‘is an offer
no man could refuse.’ And his eyes strayed towards the exits. ‘I shall return
to the hotel and collect my baggage.’

‘Aye,
thou doest that.’ The princess raised her glass and blew Mr Bell a kiss.

‘Shall
I return this to the chapel?’ asked the now rather freely sweating Mr Bell, and
he pointed to the casket that lay upon the table next to the sprouts.

‘Wouldst
thou be a love?’ The princess smiled. ‘Belmont is no longer available to show
thee the way, but I’m sure thou canst remember.’

‘No
longer available?’ Mr Bell whispered these words and glanced along the table.
Several dishes were loaded high with steaming roasted meat. Was that one at the
far end possibly garnished with beard?

‘Your
wish is my command, fair lady.’ Cameron Bell took the reliquary and backed from
the dining room.

Darwin the
monkey stirred and yawned and then said, ‘Where am I?’

Mr
Bell gazed down upon the ape. ‘Ah,’ said he. ‘You have finally awoken. Would
you care perhaps for a banana?’

‘Very
much indeed,’ said Darwin, rubbing at his eyes in that very dear way that a
kitten does. ‘But
where
are
we?’

‘Aboard
a spaceship,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘Travelling first class. Only first—class
passengers are being allowed to leave the planet Mars at present.’

There
had been some unpleasantness at what was left of the Martian spaceport. It had
all become rather complicated and Mr Bell
was
in quite a hurry to return
to Earth.

‘First
class,’ said Darwin, and then, ‘I am free!’ he cried in sudden realisation. ‘You
saved my life, my friend — my thanks to you.’

Mr
Bell smiled and put his finger to his lips. ‘It is probably best if the other
first—class travellers do not become aware of your particular gift,’ he
whispered.

‘Why?’
asked Darwin, glancing all around.

‘There
was a bit of trouble on Mars,’ said Cameron Bell,‘ something to do with an
anarchist uprising. The military are now in control of the planet. We wouldn’t
want some nervous passenger overhearing you and taking you for a French spy or
something, would we?’

Darwin
gave Mr Bell the queerest of expressions. ‘Did
you
have anything to do
with this?’ he enquired. ‘Did it involve anywhere being blown up or engulfed in
flames?’

Mr
Bell made so-so gestures with his free hand. His other hand held a glass of
champagne, Darwin noted.

‘Is
that Château Doveston?’ he asked.

Mr
Bell nodded. ‘And I will give you a glass if you are
very
quiet.’

‘And
a very big bunch of bananas?’ said Darwin.

‘A
very
big bunch of bananas,’ said Cameron Bell.

It was hotter
than ever in London and the Crystal Palace was quite steamed up inside. But as
first—class passengers travelled in air-cooled luxury across the cobbled
landing strip from spaceship to Terminal One, Mr Bell whistled between sippings
of champagne and cared not one jot for the climate.

Darwin
gazed out of a window; it was good to be back. ‘Mr Bell,’ he whispered to the
detective. ‘You have not told me anything about what happened upon Mars — why
not?’

Mr
Bell whispered in return. ‘All you must know,’ he whispered, ‘is that the
wicked witch is dead and that unless something most unexpected occurs, you and
I will enjoy many years of happy acquaintanceship together.’

‘That
is a very odd thing to say,’ whispered Darwin.

‘It
would all be very complicated to explain. Shall we dine at the Ritz tonight?’

‘Oh
yes,’ said Darwin. ‘I’d like that very much.’

First-class
passengers enjoying those privileges accorded to them were soon aboard further
luxurious carriages and away towards the metropolis.

‘Do
you want to be dropped at Syon House?’ asked Mr Bell as the new electric
runabout propelled them at speed along the highway.

‘No,’
said Darwin. I don’t want to return there on my own for now. Let’s go to our
offices. Perhaps someone has sent us a letter inviting us to take on an
exciting case.’