The Hidden Man: A Phineas Starblower Adventure (Phineas Starblower Adventures) (42 page)

Tash replied with a smile of her own and the light of mischief in her eyes and voice. “Oh yes!”

Jerard did not know whether to pity Carstares or be jealous of him. Either way he silently wished them luck.

Gopal seemed to appear out of nowhere as was his wont. He hurried to the side of the gondola and depressed the door latch. With a slight pop the aluminium door slid alongside the portholes. The fresh salt laden air of the harbor blew briefly into their faces as the three of them disembarked. Awaiting them a few dozen feet away was a small group of men in dashingly cut blue and red uniforms. As the party left the shadow of the Discretion they began to approach.

“Mister Starblower? Madam? I am Svend Anderson, Castellan to the LensBaron. I bid you welcome to Aalborg!” Declared a youngish looking man. He was attired in the most impressive of the uniforms.

Carstares placed his monocle in his right eye and peered at the man for a long moment. “Ah, yes, good show, Mr. Anderson. I am Phineas Starblower, this is my secretary and assistant Miss Theodosia Smythe-Harris and my manservant Gopal.”

Svend made a half bow in return. “May I escort you to the Aalborghus, your excellencies? The harbor wind is bracing, no?”

Carstares made a bit of a show of taking a deep breath. “Pleasantly refreshing I’d say, Sir! But yes, you’re correct, time and tide wait for no man. I’m keen to meet your esteemed master.”

The Dane smiled warmly and waved his arm in the direction of the waiting buildings. Four of his attendants ran ahead of the small group and waved the few carts and other traffic to a halt as they were taken across the harbor road and onto the grounds of the Aalborghus.

Tash glanced up at the unusual inset crest above the entrance tunnel. It looked rather like an engagement style diamond ring, set between the numbers 16 and 33. She was unsure of what the ring was all about but obviously the building was built in the year 1633. There was another builders mark set above the ring. She would have liked to have examined it further but their guide took them inside before she could. The tunnel through the outer building lead to a well manicured quadrangle of grass with a few ornamental trees set strategically within.

Several liveried servants paused to look at the newcomers as Master Svend took them up to the largest building of the cluster that made up the Administration Center. The buildings were immaculately whitewashed with the wood of the cross supports left plain but in pleasing contrast to the stark white of the walls. Had they been in England Tash would have called it an “Elizabethan” style, but here? Who knew? She thought it intriging and made a mental note to find out for curiosity’s sake.

Glancing at Carstares as he strolled briskly along at her side she saw that the man was also keenly taking in all the details of the place. Following his eye she observed a small body of men at the far end of the quad that were obviously soldiers standing guard about a smaller building. “A guardhouse Mr.. Starblower?” She queried softly, eyeing the rifles held at port arms in the men's hands.

Despite her low tones Svend heard her and replied before Carstares could. “Ah, that is the bond warehouse Miss Harris. Valuable goods are stored there until the owners have paid the duty upon them. We have a small but lucrative trade in amber from Sweden and the Finnish Duchy.”

“I didn’t know that, Master Anderson. My mother owned a fabulous amber necklace, I think I shall ask my father of what ever happened to it.”

“You should madam, northern amber is more a history lesson than a jewel, every piece a living fossil and a story of our land’s past.”

“You are quite the poet Sir. Perhaps while we are here I may get more information on this wonderful stone.”

The Castellan smiled at the compliment and at the woman’s obvious interest in his personal favorite subject. “If madam is interested, I would be happy to arrange interviews with some of our finest amber craftsmen.” He said as he held open the heavy door for them. “I am at your service.”

“Thank you Sir.” Tash replied with a gracious nod. She dearly would have loved to take the man up on his offer but in truth she feared, nay hoped, that this particular trip to Aalborg would be brief in the extreme.

A pair of servants took their coats and they were shown to a comfortable reception room. A few moments later a maid appeared with a pot of tea and four cups of fine white porcelain.

Carstares slumped down in the chair nearest to the fireplace. Tash also sat but Gopal ignored the room’s comforts and took up station just inside the door. His face and posture were relaxed and somewhat neutral as if he was content to stand thus for hours. Tash knew the maneuver. Gopal was fond of fading into the background as a ‘mere servant’ and indeed he could become so still that he appeared to be part of the wall. The truth was that Gopal never missed a thing. Tash knew she would enjoy sitting with him later in private where the two of them would dissect the conversation and its hidden meanings.

“So, I had thought the Baron would be here to greet us, wouldn’t you Sir?” She offered to Carstares while taking a sip of the tea.

“Ah, I’m sure he’s about dear Miss Smythe-Harris. This little delay is designed to emphasize how busy and important he is. From what I’ve heard he wouldn’t want to appear to be jumping to attention just because some foreigner in a flying boat shows up. No, let him have his little dignity game m’dear.” Carstares said.

Tash deliberately took an over long sip of her tea to hide the pithy comment she wanted to make. Carstares was probably right she conceded, the tactic was one she had had to endure many times as she clawed her way up in the business circles of London. Besides she wasn’t annoyed at Carstares so she contented herself with studying the décor of the room.

An indeterminable amount of time had passed when Tash heard two things at the same time. One was a soft snore coming from the chair beside her and the other was footsteps echoing down the hallway outside. For the snore she executed a swift kick to Carstares’ shin and for the footsteps she laid the tea cup aside and sat up straight in her chair. Carstares bolted upright in his own chair and wore the comical look one often has when waking up in a strange place. He opened his mouth to speak but she waved him to silence. She had now heard a second set of footsteps approaching as well. These were much quicker and by the sound from a much lighter weight person. Tash looked towards Gopal. The stoic man nodded and held up two fingers confirming what she thought she had heard.

“Min Baron!”
Came the Castellan’s voice from the hallway. Both sets of footsteps stopped and she could hear two men speaking but assumed the conversation was in Danish as she did not understand a word of it. However it was not difficult to hear the urgency in the Castellan’s voice and the irritation in what she assumed was the Baron’s reply. The tone of the conversation was lowered and lowered again frustrating her efforts to make out what was going on. She glanced at Gopal to see if he was having any better luck, but the Indian just shook his head no. Moments later the footsteps began again, one set coming towards them, the heavier set retreating.

Tash picked up the cup and saucer to give herself something to do and realized the tea was long gone. “Mr.. Starblower, may I pour you some more tea Sir?” She inquired as if they had been sitting and chatting.

“Yes my dear, thank you.” He replied urbanely, catching on to what she was about and trying not to rub his poor abused shin.

The Castellan entered the room just then and offered them a bow. “I am very sorry, Sir, Madam. The Baron has just received an urgent telegram and will be slightly delayed. He begs your pardon and asked if you might consent to wait just a few more minutes?”

Carstares looked at the young man for a moment then rather theatrically rolled his eyes to Tash. “But of course Mr.. Anderson, your master is a particularly busy man and it’s not everyday that one of the richest men in England drops by for chat, is it? I fully understand you weren’t prepared to...receive us today.”

Svend Anderson visibly cringed at the less than subtle sarcasm in Starblower’s tone. “You are most gracious Mr.. Starblower. I am sure the Baron will not tarry overlong..”

Just as the Castellan was about to exit Carstares spoke again. “Oh my good man fetch us another pot of tea while we wait won’t you? There’s a good fellow.”

“More delaying tactics!” Carstares grumbled as the man closed the door behind himself.

Tash frowned. “I’m not so sure Sir. We’ll just have to wait and see I suppose.”

Either the LensBaron’s timing was impeccable or else he had secretly been observing them. Just as Carstares/Starblower finished his second cup of tea there came a perfunctory knock on the door and a footman entered.

“My Lord Gyldenfelt. LensBaron of Aalborg!” the man snapped out smartly, in heavily accented english.

Tash rose to her feet and then sank into a suitably decorous curtsy to the imposing looking fellow that entered. Carstares carefully set down his cup and rose to his feet as well. He was more restrained about his salutation and merely nodded a bow from the head down.

“Welcome my English friends to my humble townhouse!” Gyldenfeldt boomed spreading his arms wide for emphasis. To Carstares he returned the not-quite-a-bow and offered his hand.

“Phineas Starblower m’lord Gyldenfeldt! Honored to make your acquaintance!” Carstares declared smartly taking the offered hand shake. “Pour the Baron a spot of tea please Theodosia, there’s a love!” he added over his shoulder to Tash.

The Baron stood only about five and a half feet tall but was built like a barrel. None of it appeared as fat, rather the man looked like an oak stump had taken into its head to put on clothes and walk around. Obviously in his mid fifties, a few wispy curls of hair remained over either ear but otherwise the man’s balding head was bare, and oddly discoloured by a large brown scar. An elegant moustache and goatee rounded out his features giving him a look like some Grecian satyr rather than a northern soldier.

Both men settled back into a pair of wing-backed chairs as Tash served the tea. Deliberately adding an extra two spoonfuls of sugar to Carstares’ cup as payback for the servant's role he had thrust upon her.

Taking his tea from her, the Baron eyed the young woman appreciatively. “I did not know you had a daughter Mr.. Starblower.”

Carstares snorted into his tea at the thought, but recovered swiftly. “Oh no my dear fellow Theodosia is my secretary she has quite a head for organization and bookkeeping, don’t y’know. I have the great ideas but she is largely responsible for getting them from the drawing board and to the factory. The silent fellow by the wall is Gopal, my valet and manservant.”

“I see” The Baron replied taking a long look at Gopal. “So what brings you to my little town Mr.. Starblower?”

“To business right away, eh! Well fair enough my good Sir. Let me be blunt with you. This is a hunt, a chase, and point of honor in the main.” Carstares began with some passion. “I had planned to visit your fair town this winter with a proposition for you but some dastardly fellows have upset my timetable and now I must come asking for assistance instead of making an honest trade proposal.”

The Baron’s eyebrows raised up slightly at the sudden bluster but he only said: “A point of honor Mr. Starblower? How so?”

“It was my intention to look to expand my Scandinavian interest southwards into Denmark and to that end I had a trade proposal drawn up for you and your captains of industry to review. A few days ago a German rival of mine, arranged for some of my proposals to be removed from my Scottish offices and smuggled out of Britain. Preliminary investigation indicates that the blaggard either desires to preempt me here or more likely in occupied Southern Denmark. But what they hadn’t counted on was the Discretion! Thanks to my most excellent airship crew we have all but caught up with the blighter. But there’s the rub. Almost is not good enough.”

“No indeed Sir, but I fail to see how this involves me as of yet?” The Baron replied levelly, his eye holding Carstares' in hawk like intensity.

“I’m getting to that my good Sir. We tracked the scoundrel to Norway where we confirmed he had paid off the local that assisted him in a large quantity of Marks then took ship here to Aalborg on...” He turned to Tash. “What was the name of the boat Theodosia?” He queried popping his monocle out into his hand as he did so.

Tash made a show of reaching for her notebook and turning the pages. “The Dagmar Sir, the name of the ship was reported as being the Dagmar, registered here in Aalborg.”

“Ah yes, good show, m’gel. So, Baron, I was hoping if you or one of your customs chappies could find out who has that ship. And if it is still carrying the blighters that stole my plans for trade and a manufactory here in Denmark.”

The LensBaron leaned back and absently stroked his goatee. “So in essence you are telling me that a business rival got the better of you Mr.. Starblower?”

“If you mean stealing a confidential document from a locked office is a form of business Sir. Then yes I am!” Carstares thundered back. “Frankly I was shocked, I had counted the Prussians as an honorable people and above such base trickery.”

Gyldenfelt smiled thinly, “I think they would quote to you the
‘all’s fair in love and war’
maxim. But...while I am enjoying this pretty story I think we should be just a bit more honest with each other. You see just moments ago I was detained by a telegram. A very interesting telegram as a matter of fact, and oddly enough it was concerning the Dagmar and your visit here today.”

Carstares could not stop himself from shooting a glance at Tash. He wondered if she was as confused as he was, but apparently not, her face held only the slightest trace of interest. Taking her cue, he replied. “Why this is marvelous! Do go on Sir.”

“It seems
Sir
that the Dagmar was used in the aiding and abetting of a kidknapping. One Dr. Everard Nordstrom, whom I am given to understand is a good friend of yours.” Gyldenfelt’s tone took on a harder edge before continuing, “And I do believe that you know full well that the ship in question belongs to me. I am neither ignorant of my own assets, or stupid Mr.. Starblower.” The Baron finished, thinly veiled contempt written plain on his face.