The Educated Ape & other Wonders of the Worlds (43 page)

Lady
Raygun took a step forward. ‘Then know this, too, my clever fellow. My
informant at Scotland Yard has told me that Chief Inspector Case is presently
employing your services to solve a certain case for him that he is unable to
solve. To wit, that you bring Lady Raygun to justice.’

‘Of
course,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘But I do not wish
that!’

‘
What?’
cried Lady Raygun. ‘All this subterfuge, all this deception, the employment
of a stage illusion atop Tower Bridge and you do
not
wish to capture
me?’

‘Absolutely
not,’
said Cameron Bell. ‘Quite the contrary, in fact. I wish you to
continue your crusade. The streets of London are far safer when villains fear
to step from their doors as the Mistress of Mystery might take them.’

Lady
Raygun shook her head. The tightly fitting rubber hood with its circular
eyeglasses and queer mouth grille created a most fearsome sight by moonlight,
or indeed any other.

‘You
went to all this trouble simply to speak to me,’ said she. ‘Would it not have
been easier just to have had a note delivered to the lodgings of Miss Violet
Wond?’

‘Considerably
so,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘But not nearly so much fun.’

‘Fun?’
cried
Lady Raygun.

‘Come,
come,’ said Mr Bell. ‘What greater fun can there ever be but danger?’

Lady
Raygun shook her head once more.

‘And,’
said Cameron Bell, ‘on a serious note, I wished to make it plain to you that
should I set out in earnest to track you down, I could accomplish this task.’

Lady
Raygun shook her head yet again. ‘No,’ said she. ‘That will not happen and I
will tell you why. I avenge the good by destroying the evil and I will not be
held from my crusade. You know my identity and so, regrettably — because I do
not kill the good as a rule — regrettably, you must die.’

‘I
think
not,’
said Cameron Bell and
he
now shook
his
head.
‘You see, my gift, as it were, is one of perception. Give me an article of
clothing and I will disclose to you all manner of personal details regarding
its owner, details that the average person would find truly amazing. Miss Wond,
I spent a considerable time in your private lodgings. I studied your articles
of clothing with considerable care.’

‘You
foul creature!’ cried the lady. ‘I will do for you.

‘Please.’
And Cameron Bell displayed once more the brass contrivance. ‘Such is the
reaction I expected from you. You are a most secretive creature and for good
reason, considering all you have experienced in your life. But I would have
you as a friend and not an enemy. I have penned a letter regarding yourself
that will be opened should I come to an untimely end.’

‘Do
your worst!’ cried Lady Raygun, taking a single step forwards. ‘I have no fear
of death. I hate all.’

‘And
that is not strictly true,’ said Mr Bell, ‘because in fact you are in love with
Ernest Rutherford, and it is your hope that he can reverse the wrong that was
done to you.

‘You
are a remarkable man, Mr Bell,’ said Lady Raygun.

‘My
thanks,’ said the great detective. ‘And when you have heard what I have to tell
you, it is my hope that we might form a partnership and work together.’

‘I
work alone,’ said the lady.

‘Please
delay your final decision until you have heard my proposal.’

‘Go
on, then,’ said Lady Raygun. ‘But do make it brief, for you are surely the most
loquacious fellow I have ever met.’

Cameron
Bell now suddenly took a step back. ‘They are coming,’ he whispered. ‘Up the
stairs. Policemen. Fly, Lady Raygun, please. Meet me tomorrow for luncheon at
one, at the Savoy Grill. Now — please go.

Lady
Raygun swayed upon her towering heels, then sprang up onto the gantry railings
and flung herself into the sky. The curious membrane swam about her and she was
borne off into the London night.

‘Bell,’ puffed
Chief Inspector Case, issuing through the tiny doorway of the northern tower.
‘Are you all right, man? Where is the Masked Shadow?’

‘Dead,’
said Mr Cameron Bell. ‘We had a bitter struggle. He was a most terrible
opponent, fought as a thing possessed—’

‘Extraordinary,’
said Chief Inspector Case.

‘He
said,’ continued Cameron Bell, ‘that the only man he truly feared was
you.’

‘Me?’
said
Chief Inspector Case.

‘He
knew I was working for you. He knew you were the man who would bring him down.’

‘But
you
brought him down.’

In
the moonlight, Cameron Bell raised an eyebrow.

‘Ah,
yes,’ said the chief inspector.
‘I
brought him down.’

‘After
a bitter struggle,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘Which I witnessed. While you were
saving my life.’

‘Quite
so, Bell. Quite so.’

‘So
bravo to you and good luck with that knighthood.’ Chief Inspector Case did
preenings of his lapels. ‘A good night’s work,’ said he. ‘Although—’

‘Although?’
asked Mr Cameron Bell.

‘Well,
just two things,’ said the chief inspector. ‘Firstly, there appears to be no
immediate evidence that this Masked Shadow fellow actually stole anything out
of the Jewel Room.’

‘And
secondly?’ asked Cameron Bell.

‘Well,
secondly, why is it
you
who is wearing that cloak?’

41

atisfactory
explanations were offered up by Cameron Bell and gladly accepted by Chief
Inspector Case. The two men descended from Tower Bridge and stood once more
upon terra firma.

‘You
have done a man’s job, Bell,’ said the chief inspector and gave Mr Bell a very
manly hug.

It
was a hug of such manliness, in fact, as to press down hard upon the pockets of
Mr Bell. One of which contained a brass contrivance.

The
explosion that then occurred high above upon Tower Bridge had that famous
London monument and artery of traffic closed for a week for repairs.

‘A
damnable anarchist, that Masked Shadow,’ the chief inspector said, whilst
ducking his head. ‘London Town is a safer place without him.

The morning
papers were greatly in accordance with this sentiment and much praise was
heaped upon Chief Inspector Case for ridding the Empire’s capital of this
Devil—made— flesh, and demands were put about that a knighthood should be
forthcoming.

‘That
man is a credit to England,’ a waiter at the Savoy Grill told Cameron Bell as
he sat nervously awaiting the arrival of Miss Violet Wond. Nervously because he
feared that she might well have packed her goods and chattels and gone
off-world, never again to be seen upon this planet. And while this might have
its benefits, possibly financial in the case of Mr Bell if he could concoct
some convincing tale for the chief inspector of how he had personally managed
to defeat her, it would be of far more benefit to Mr Bell to have her remain in
London and team up with him.

The
Savoy Grill was bustling with life. Its wall mirrors, richly etched and
ornately framed, reflected the very cream of London society. There sat Lady
Elsie Grover, the glamorous personal dresser to Her Majesty. It was this
lady’s job to design and fit the monarch’s fetching attire, and this season it
appeared that black was once more to be the new black. There, too, sat a
romantic brooding character of the Byronic persuasion, and surely this was the
enigmatic Herr Döktor, a figure who moved within high society doing only good,
for he was the creator of a clockwork apparatus designed to act as a panacea
for ladies’ hysteria. Holding court was Sir Peter Harrow, lately released from
a stay in hospital brought on by major burnings and his ‘nerves’. Sir Peter
was, as it happened, extolling the virtues of Herr Döktor’s clockwork
apparatus.

At a
distant table sat the Laird of Dunoon in his distinctive newspaper bonnet,
sharing a joke with Count Otto Black, a gentleman of leisure presently in London
to promote vampirism.

Lords
and ladies came and went, sat and dined and chatted.

Cameron
Bell sat all on his own and sipped a little champagne.

And
as the clock struck the half-hour past one, a lady veiled and all in black
entered the glamorous restaurant swinging a parasol. She whispered words to the
maître d’, who guided her to the table of Cameron Bell. The great detective
rose from his chair as the maître d’ assisted the lady into hers.

Cameron
Bell reseated himself ‘I am very glad that you chose to honour me with your
presence,’ he said. ‘Might I enliven your empty glass with champagne?’

The
lady nodded that this would be acceptable and Mr Bell poured out a generous
glass.

‘I
have many important appointments,’ said Miss Violet Wond. ‘Let us make this
meeting brief, if you will be so kind.’

A
waiter brought menus. Mr Bell and Violet Wond perused them.

‘I am
informed that the chateaubriand is particularly delicious,’ said Mr Bell,
toasting the lady in black with his glass of champagne.

‘Then
that will serve,’ said Violet Wond. ‘Now tell me what you wish of me.’

Cameron
Bell drew the attention of the waiter. ‘Two of the chateaubriands,’ he said. ‘I
shall have mine medium-rare. What of you, Miss Wond?’

‘I
will have mine raw,’ said Violet Wond.

‘With
a side order of those French-fried potatoes that are all the current rage,’
said Cameron Bell.

The
waiter departed, worrying over raw meat, and Cameron Bell looked long and hard
at Miss Wond.

‘Seeking
to discern my inner feelings from the study of my outer garments?’ asked the
lady in black. ‘You have surely learned all you need to know from my personal
underthings.’

Cameron
Bell’s cheeks pinkened at this. ‘My sincere apologies for encroaching upon your
privacy,’ said he, ‘but so it must be, for such is my line of work.’

‘I
have not yet decided whether
my
line of work will include your
execution,’ said Miss Violet Wond, toasting Mr Bell then sipping champagne
beneath her veil.

‘It
is in neither of our interests to make an enemy of the other.’

‘I
can never be your friend,’ said Violet Wond. ‘Indeed. And is there not a
popular axiom: “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer”?’

‘Please
just tell me what you want,’ said Violet Wond.

‘Peace
between us and that we can work together.’

‘I
work alone. I told you that.’

‘What
do you know,’ asked Cameron Bell, ‘of Miss Lavinia Dharkstorrm?’

The
stem of Miss Wond’s champagne glass shattered in her hand.

Champagne
splashed upon her black silk glove.

Mr Bell
offered assistance, but this was declined.

‘I am
unharmed,’ said Violet Wond. ‘But you speak a name that is not unknown to me.

‘And
I would gather that you hold no affection for this particular female.’

‘What
is she to you?’ asked Violet Wond.

‘My
greatest enemy,’ said the great detective, in all candour. ‘A fearsome
adversary who is presently engaged upon a course of action that may well
destroy this world and all the others.’

‘Really?’
said Miss Wond. ‘And I thought that
I
was the Angel of Death.’

‘Miss
Dharkstorrm is the most evil creature I have ever met.’

‘I
feel perhaps on that we are agreed.’

A
waiter had hastened forward to offer Miss Wond a replacement glass and fill it.
Another was worrying at broken glass with a tiny brush.

‘Please
leave us,’ said Violet Wond, in a tone that left no room for misinterpretation.
The waiters scuttled away at speed. Miss Wond sipped further champagne.

‘You
know much, Mr Bell,’ said she, at length, ‘but you know far from all. Speak to
me of Lavinia Dharkstorrm and what she means to you.