The Hidden Man: A Phineas Starblower Adventure (Phineas Starblower Adventures) (35 page)

Jerard considered the Colonels point for a moment. "You may have something there Sir, but it all hinges on getting a noted eccentric and recluse to step into the public eye for a change. Now that is a challenge even our most redoubtable Miss Smythe-Harris will find tricky I suspect!"

Carstares looked back at him dourly. "Then let us hope she is up to it Captain. For Dr. Nordstrom’s and indeed all of our sakes."

Outside in the companionway Tash silently stalked forward to her private cabin with a worried looking Gopal in tow.

"Tash? What shall we do?" The tall Indian man whispered once they were out of earshot of the lounge.

"Improvise, Gopal improvise." Tash barged into her room and sat heavily down upon the overstuffed armchair by the porthole. "Your analysis Gopal?" she said offhandedly her mind clearly being elsewhere in thought.

Gopal sighed. She was so difficult when like this. If he had learned one thing about Tash in their long acquaintance it was that she disliked surprises - unless she was the author of them of course.

"I think Captain Phillips’ argument is a reasonable tactic to apply Madam. The turn around time to and from the glacier where Mr Starblower is in residence is prohibitively long to be wise in the circumstance."

"Indeed, but that dratted Colonel makes an excellent point, don't you think? If we had Mr. Starblower actually aboard then many a door would open for us not just this villain in Aalborg. It is hard to argue that logic, and Millie's father is slipping away from us. I can feel it!"

"Yes madam. But given Mr Starblower’s established nature it is not something we can see to however."

"See to, see to..." Tash repeated absently as a thought occurred to her. "It is sometimes all about appearances isn't it Gopal?" Tash leaped to her feet and strode to the connecting door to Mr. Starblowers’ private stateroom. “I think the first order of business is to get that message off. No need to bother dear Mr. Jones about it I think; dictation and formal phrasing can be such a bore sometimes."

A ghost of a grin appeared on Gopal’s face as he began to guess her idea. How would the dear Captain and the perfectly proper Colonel feel should they know that Tash had a key to Mr. Starblowers’ private chamber? Foolish of them really, if they had not guessed by now that the delightful Miss Smythe-Harris was much more intimate with Starblower than being merely his secretary general...

“Try it again Mr. Wallace.” Jerard said somewhat grimly, as he stared at the ground tantalizingly below them. Jerard and Mr. Wallace trying desperately to set the Discretion down in the fueling yard. They were having a devil of a time of it with the sudden crosswind that had come up from nowhere. Given their proximity to the large silos of pressurized gas, Phillips could not bring himself to have Mr. Landover fire the ‘harpoon’, despite the Airshipman’s assurances of his aim.

“What is that infernal noise?” Jerard shouted as a constant clicking noise had finally gotten on his nerves. He had to get some proper rest soon, so did the rest of the crew. If they could just get the ship safely down and hooked to the refueling station they could all finally relax.

“It’s the telegraph Sir, a message coming in.” Aneurin Jones said from his desk, a set of huge ear pieces wrapped about his head.

Phillips wondered if the man knew how ridiculous he looked in his electronic ear muffs. Jones had already explained that they we some sort of listening device and he had been listening to some tests on the lightning shorted communications between the forward sections and the ship’s engineering section. He now pulled them down to hang around his neck as he lifted a lid on the top of his desk. The clicking grew louder as Jones turned a crank and up from the hole in his desk popped what looked like a typewriter, with a few extra parts. The keys were moving by themselves.

“What the?”

Aneurin Jones grinned. “This is my invention Sir. It’s a telegraph.” Jones paused in his explanation and inserted another piece of paper behind the platen so it would roll up behind the one already moving out of the top of the writer.

“I hardly think you invented the telegraph Mr. Jones.”

Jones laughed. “True Sir but I did invent this machine. You see the keys are wired to translate the letters to and from Morse code.”

“I see.” said Jerard, not really seeing at all.

“It’s actually quite simple Captain, you see the electric pulse for the letter S, as an example, is three short bursts, when these three bursts occur the letter S key is triggered and depresses the S key on the writer, thus the machine types the letter S on the paper.”

Jerard blinked several times, not really sure of what Mr. Jones was going on about. But since the man was so pleased at his own work, he answered with what he hoped was appropriate: “Amazing! That is quite fantastic Sir.”

“Thank you.” Jones said and patted the side of the writer before turning his attention to the words on the paper rolling out of the top.

“Well then, what does it say.” Phillips asked.

"It’s a message from Mr. Starblower Captain." Jones hesitated. “And... it’s marked private for you Captain" the officer stated a little uncomfortably as the paper kept spooling out of the machine.

Even to Jerard's untrained eye he could see this was no simple
'Come and get me'
or
'Go on as you are!'
missive but some detailed instructions, curious, not to mention expensive! But anyone that could afford a private airship hardly worried about that sort of thing, he supposed. "Very well Mr. Jones I'll read it as soon as we get this bird on the ground. Mr. Wallace?”

“I think I’ve got it now Captain, I’ve just dropped the ground lines and...there! They’ve got her.” Wallace said triumphantly.

“Good work Sir, well done.”

“Thank you Sir!” Wallace beamed.

Jerard took the paper Mr. Jones handed him and moved to sit at his station. He read the telegram:

+++ PRIVATE TO CAPTAIN J. B. PHILLIPS OFFICER COMMANDING I.A.S. SOUL OF DISCRETION+++

CAPTAIN PHILLIPS. MY APOLOGIES THAT THIS HAS TO BE OUR FIRST DIRECT COMMUNIQUÉ.

MISS SMYTHE-HARRIS HAS APPRAISED ME OF YOUR CURRENT PREDICAMENT AND THE DEMANDS BEING MADE BY YOUR PASSENGER ON NOW NOT ONLY MY PROPERTY BUT MY PERSON AS WELL.

I AGREE WITH YOUR PRELIMINARY ASSESSMENT THAT TO RETRIEVE ME FROM THIS DELIGHTFUL SPA I HAVE FOUND, WILL BE TIME PROHIBITIVE. FURTHER I REGRET TO REPORT THAT I HAVE BADLY STRAINED MY LEFT LEG WHILE HIKING. THIS INFIRMITY INADVERTENTLY HELPS THE DIFFICULT DECISION I MUST NOW MAKE.

THE COLONEL'S OBSERVATION ABOUT MY BEING ABLE TO OPEN SOME DOORS FOR YOU IS NOT WHOLLY WITHOUT MERIT, EVEN IF IT IS PRESUMPTIVE IN THE EXTREME!

BUT THERE IS A WAY I CAN SEE THAT WILL PERHAPS RETRIEVE THE SITUATION. THERE BETWEEN ME AND THE GOOD COLONEL IS BUT TWO YEARS OLDER AND OF SIMILAR BUILD. THIS MADE ME THINK THAT IF THE CHAP WANTS 'STARBLOWER' SO DAMN'D MUCH HE CAN BE 'STARBLOWER' FOR THE DURATION OF THIS CRISIS!

I HAVE AND DO VALUE MY PRIVACY MORE THAN ANYTHING. GOOD LORD SHOULD MY WHEREABOUTS BECOME PUBLICLY KNOWN I GET BESIEGED BY THE SMALL MINDED DOLTS THAT THE GOOD COLONEL WOULD SIC ON ME! NEVER SIR WILL I ENDURE THAT UNLESS ALL OTHER RESOURCE IS EXPENDED! SO I PROPOSE THAT COLONEL CARSTARES TAKE UP MY MANTLE (BOTH FIGURATIVELY AND LITERALLY) AND POSE AS I FOR THE DURATION OF THIS MELANCHOLY ADVENTURE!

LET US SEE HOW HE LIKES IT!

IT FALLS TO YOU AND MISS SMYTHE-HARRIS TO CONVINCE HIM TO TAKE ON THIS ROLE. I ESPECIALLY CHARGE YOU SIR, AS A GENTLEMAN IN MY EMPLOY TO SEE THIS FICTION IS CARRIED OUT TILL THE GOOD DOCTOR’S FATE IS RESOLVED.

IT WILL BE BETTER IF YOU BROACH THIS TO THE GOOD COLONEL. DESPITE HER FORMIDABLE TALENTS MISS SMYTHE-HARRIS WOULD BE UNABLE TO MAKE THIS DESK OFFICER SEE THE NEED. ALSO I THINK SHE MIGHT ENJOY THE MAN'S DISCOMFITURE A MITE TOO MUCH. SO I TURN TO YOU SIR AS MY SECOND.

GOOD LUCK AND GOD SPEED TO YOU ALL!

PHINEAS A. STARBLOWER

P.S. WELCOME TO THE COMPANY CAPTAIN PHILLIPS! +++

It was unbelievable! Jerard was torn between laughter and outrage. Laughter at turning the presumptuous Carstares’ request back on him so. But the refusal in general seemed rather reprehensible in that he would not come out of hiding to save Dr. Nordstrom. Unless of course, Jerard reasoned, the man was misreporting his injury to avoid further panicking Tash or the company's stockholders.

“Somthin’ wrong captain?” Jones quietly asked. His honest face a mask of concern.

“No, just a bit surprising Aneurin that’s all.” Phillips replied quickly not wanting to reveal to the crew what he had read until he had time to think it over.

Re reading the message again he realized the ruse was a stroke of genius that would preserve the small advantage the Discretion had by her speed over the sea going vessel she pursued. A thin smile won the war between outrage and amusement on Phillips' face. Mr Starblower evidently knew his secretary well enough to know Tash would be far too distraught by the need of this deception to properly couch it to the stuffy Colonel.

He was hardly looking forward to explaining Mr. Starblower's instruction to Tash any more than he was putting the compromise to Colonel Carstares.  
While Jerard relished the implied trust his new master was placing in him.
I especially charge you Sir, as a gentleman in my employ to carry on this fiction.. So I turn to you Sir as my second...
it put him in a rather invidious position between Carstares and Tash.  
Time to take command Jerard, he thought to himself, better to present the course of action to Tash and Carstares 'fait accompli'. They would both rage at him Jerard had no doubt but time was one thing that they all had little of. The pair of them could extract their pound of flesh from his hide while the Discretion was back on Dr. Nordstrom's trail.

Glancing around the largely silent crew Phillips considered their situation. D'Arcey was at his station studying some reports but the nervous drumming of the Frenchman's fingers on his desk betrayed his own frustration. William had stepped out into the bridge anteroom to munch on a pasty one of the stewards had brought up for him earlier. The young man had fastidiously refused to eat at his station, which while praise worthy Phillips found amusing none the less. Fred Randal was at his desk plotting out the swiftest rout to the Nigardbreen Glacier in preparation to retrieving Mr. Starblower. No more need for that, Phillips thought folding the telegram into his pocket.

“Fred we have some orders. I want you to plot the fastest course you can to the city of Aalborg in northern Denmark.”

Fred tapped his pen against his chin. “No more searching over the sea then captain?”

“No, if the Colonel is right we’re going to go straight to the port these where these scoundrels were last operating out of.”

“Very good Captain. I’ll draw up a flight plan, check the weather reports and estimate an arrival time directly.” Fred seemed happy to be back at work on the task before them.

“Mr. D’Arcey!” His voice had been louder than he had intended it seemed as the second engineer jumped as he called for him.

"Oui Capitain?"

"Sorry about that Sir, didn’t mean to shout, been a long day for all of us. Whats the best time estimate to refuel, if you please?"

"One or two hours maybe? I do not know how long the refuel will take here. I hope the fuel-men will be better than ze ground-men."

“Gentlemen, these are
my
orders...” he paused to make sure he had the bridge crew’s attention. “... At first light tomorrow we are heading directly for northern Denmark, so as soon as we are secure I advise you to get some rest. Fred, when will you have that course ready for me to review?”

Fred turned from the charts on his desk to look at his Captain. “eef you will recall
mon capitain,
I was just finishing the course to pick up Mr. Starblower first. I assumed if not now then later we’d pick up the boss. Did you want me to drop that completely?”

Jerard chuckled, he should not encourage the man’s disrespect but Fred’s fake french accent did sound amazingly like D’Arcey’s. “Indeed I do Sir,” he replied in a mock severe tone, “our plans have changed so all I want from you is the route to Aalborg.
‘Toute Suit’
Do I make my self clear Mr. Randall?”

“As crystal Sir!” Fred replied in a rather more serious tone and with a smart salute, while D’Arcey gave them both a withering look before returning his gaze to the dials and gauges of his board.

“Good.” Jerard grumbled, for effect. “Gentlemen I am going first to meet with Mr. Nichols briefly and then I will be in my cabin. I need to have a brief meeting with Colonel Carstares and then with Miss Smythe-Harris. I ask that I not be disturbed unless it is an emergency.

The chorus of ‘aye captains’ followed Jerard out the door.

A few moments later Mr. Wallace slid back into the bridge from the anti chamber. “He’s gone.”

“So come on Jonesy! What did the message say?” Fred said, getting up and moving towards Jones’s desk.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” Aneurin said grinning like a fool.

“Come on Annie,” Wallace said as he moved to stand beside Jones, “ Ya know you’re gonna tell us...give over man. Why aren’t we picking up Mr. Starblower?”

“Don’t call me Annie!” Jones said in mock irritation before he grinned again. “Oh this is even better than actually picking him up! The boss wants that stuffed shirt Carstares to take his place and pretend to be him!”

“You are jesting Monsieur Jones!” D’Arcey said in stunned disbelief.

“I doubt it,” William Wallace said laughing, “our Mr. Starblower does some crazy things. And this one sounds right up his alley.”

“I think I’m going to like this Starblower.” Fred said joining Wallace and Jones in their laughter.

Mr. D’Arcey just stared at his crewmates. It seemed like he was hardly able to take in what he had heard.

As Jerard approached his cabin door he couldn’t help shaking his head. His briefing with Mr. Nichols had gone well but Jerard had expected the man to be surprised at the turn of events. Heaven only knows his shock at reading the telegram had been monumental, yet Nichols just nodded and smiled when he read it. Jerard had the distinct feeling that he had missed something but as to what, he hadn’t a clue. Ah well, to the task at hand, he thought and unlocked his door.