The Hidden Man: A Phineas Starblower Adventure (Phineas Starblower Adventures) (60 page)

He jumped when Collins’ voice trilled out of the speaking grill confirming that Gopal and the HLC were on board and secure. He turned to Mr. Wallace who was looking at him expectantly.

“Bring her up to five hundred Mr. Wallace then hold her steady until we can get more information.”

“Aye Captain.” Wallace replied softly his eyes glancing towards the bridge door; focusing them on the spot where everyone else on the bridge was now looking.

Tick, tick, tick. Jerard snapped the watch closed and replaced it in his pocket.

Gopal seemed to materialize in the doorway. For the briefest moment Jerard wondered that he had not heard his footsteps although the man must have been running. He also wondered at Gopal’s completely unruffled appearance. He did not look like a man who had run five miles. The only indication that he had been outside of the airship was a very small amount of mud on the man’s boots.

“Captain.” Gopal said and bowed.

“What have you found Sir?”

“I was not able to physically catch the HLC. I was however able to track it to this location. Before I arrived here I saw an airship taking off from behind the trees.”

“An airship?!” Jerard interrupted excitedly. “Can you describe it?”

“Yes Captain.” Gopal said and bowed again. “The ship was smaller than our own and not nearly as graceful in form. I believe it to be about two-hundred feet long. It was shaped rather like one of Colonel Carstares’ cigars, a cylinder, blunt at both ends. One would not expect something that ugly to fly.”

Fred Randal snorted as if he were trying not to laugh. Jerard shot him a dirty look before replying to Gopal.

“Did you notice anything else about the ship?”

“Yes Captain Phillips, I paused long enough to memorize her exact form in the hope that it could be identified.”

“Go on then.” Jerard said.

“The color was also unappealing, it being a dirty tan color like desert sand. It’s small gondola was placed in the center of the ship and there was an odd framework that extended from the gondola back to the strange box like structure at the rear. I think there could have been bombs cradled in that framework. I also believe the box frame may serve the same purpose as our fins.”

“Spot on Gopal!” Fred exclaimed.

“Thank you Sir.” Gopal said and bowed his head.

“Could you discern how many engines?”

“Yes Captain. There were two behind the gondola and one awkwardly hanging off the box structure in the rear.”

Jerard nodded and spoke as if reciting from a book. “French Chevalier Class scout ship, two-hundred and twenty feet long, top speed 70 mph under optimum conditions, a single machine gun set in the nose with a 200 degree field of fire is the standard armament, additional gunports set in the observation dome on top and in the rear, maximum crew of ten, not suitable for cargo but can carry six five-hundred pound bombs.”

Fred whistled. “Wow Cap, what else you got in there?”

Jerard shot Fred another dirty look and turned back to Gopal “I’m sorry for the interruption, will you finish your story Gopal?”

“Of course Captain. When I reached the HLC I examined the surrounding area. I was able to determine that the airship had been parked at this location. There was evidence that it had been there for several days, possibly as much as a week. I could pick out the footprints of three different men who were obviously based on the ship. There were also three more sets of different shoe prints these tracks lead from the parked HLC to where I believe the door of the gondola was positioned. From the other markings on the ground I believe the motorbike was also loaded into the ship. It was at this point that I began trying to contact the Discretion by radio. In all Captain, I believe there to be a total of seven people aboard that airship.”

“That was well done Sir.” Jerard said before turning to Mr. Jones. “Sir, did you see any signs of an airship while you were in the observation dome?”

“No Captain, the skies were clear for as far as I could see.”

“This does not surprise.” Gopal began. “The airship I saw was moving very fast directly away from my position, it turned in a manner so that only the the rear was visible. If you were able to discern anything it would have been only a light colored spot just above the trees.”

“So it was heading due west.”

“Yes Captain.”

“McPherson to bridge, McPherson to the bridge.” The speaking grill clamored for attention, interrupting Gopal's report.

Irritated Jerard snapped the receive toggle. “This is Phillips, go ahead.”

“Captain, good. You need to get down here Sir. Mr. D'Arcey is awake and insisting on speaking with you.”

“Very good Mac. I will be there in a few minutes.” Jerard looked back to Gopal. “And you’re sure it was due west they headed Gopal?”

“Sir, Mr. D'Arcey is distraught and insists on speaking with you
now
.” The impertinent speaking grill demanded.

Jerard ignored the grill, waiting for the Indian’s answer. Gopal nodded yes, he was sure.

“Better go Captain.” Nichols said. “Me and the lads can handle things here.”

Jerard looked at Nichols and then at Jones, Wallace and Fred. All four were nodding in agreement.

“Alright take the ship up and head due west for now, Mr. Jones get back to the observation dome, Fred keep your eyes open as well” Jerard muttered resignedly. “On my way Mac” He then said into the speaking grill. Jerard stalked out of the bridge without looking back.

He rapped twice on D'Arcey’s cabin door before opening it. “What...” Jerard began.

D'Arcey threw himself at Jerard’s feet sobbing.
“Mon Dieu, je suis désolé! Mon Dieu, Mon Dieu, Mademoiselle Tash! C'est ma faute, je suis désolé!”

“...the hell?” Jerard finished. It wasn’t what he was planning to say but his original thought flew neatly out of his head. “Get up man, what’s going on? And for god’s sake please speak English!”

Jerard got a hold of D'Arcey’s arms and lifted him up. Mac was there too and helped Jerard get D'Arcey back into the bed. D'Arcey struggled against them and kept shouting in french. He seemed to be quite out of his mind. Jerard had heard of this kind of panic in connection with foot soldiers so he did the only thing he knew to do.

“D'Arcey!” he shouted and slapped the engineer hard across the face.

Mr. D'Arcey relaxed and blinked several times as if trying to focus his eyes. Jerard looked hopefully at McPherson for an answer.

“He was fine until I told him about Miss Tash being taken.”

McPherson’s words seemed to bring D'Arcey around. He looked at Jerard. “
C'est ma faute, je suis désolé!”
he repeated.

Jerard shook his head and sat down on the side of D'Arcey’s bunk. “I’m sorry Mr. D'Arcey, my french is not very good but you seem to be saying something is your fault.”

“Oui...uh...yes.” D'Arcey raised both hands and covered his face. “I cannot think so good, head hurts.”

“That’s fine Mr. D'Arcey, you just rest now. We will...”

“Non!” D'Arcey shouted and reached for Jerard, struggling to sit up. “Listen!
S'il vous plaît
! I know where they go.”

With a calm Jerard did not feel he pulled D'Arcey to a sitting position while McPherson pushed pillows behind his back. “It’s alright D'Arcey, I am listening. You know where who is going?”

“Gaspe.”

“Gaspe...I know that name. Baron Gyldenfeldt said Gaspe... Wait! Surely you do not mean Jean Phillipe Gaspe? The french airship captain?”

“Oui Captain Phillips, and I rue ze day our paths ever crossed..” D’Arcey buried his face in his hands, moaning “I am a simple soldier, a simple soldier, not an assassin...”

Tiny pinpricks of light began appearing in the darkness. It seemed like they grew larger in relationship to the pain. Darkness please come back, she thought and squeezed her eyelids tightly shut. The tiny movement caused her stomach to flip over and she willed herself not to retch as waves of nausea rolled up and greeted the pain in her head. She swallowed as the tide receded; a soft moan escaped her lips. A warm comforting hand smoothed her hair back and softly whispered to her, “Oh my darling, I’m so sorry...”

Responding to the great pain and sorrow she heard in the voice Tash murmured, “It’s all right,” and opened her eyes. She flinched back from the man sitting beside her and despite the fresh wave of pain struggled to a sitting position. “You!” She accused. Her anger beat back the pain enough that she remembered what happened. “You were stealing my HLC! Where are the rest of them?”

Edward Dortsmorn looked at her blankly and seemed to shrink in upon himself. “No, no, no,” he muttered softly and slid away from her. Drawing his knees up he wrapped his arms around them and huddled against the wall.

“I’m sorry.” She said, realizing that he must be as much a victim as she was. “Do you know where we are?” She tried. Dortsmorn just shook his head no.

Tash looked around the room and tried to make sense of what she saw. Gray metal, everything seemed to be made of dull gray metal curves. Curious sets of chains and pulleys decorated the tall ceiling above. From where she was sitting on the curved floor she could see no doors or windows only a catwalk-like structure that ran all the way around. She slowly turned, trying not to increase the pain in her head, and saw the room’s only door. Beside it a control panel of some sort. Another of her senses kicked in and Tash realized that she had been feeling a soft, familiar, vibration. “Oh!” She said out loud. “We’re on an airship!”

“Indeed you are Mademoiselle.” Said a heavily accented french voice.

The man had been sitting in a grey metal chair to the other side of the door. He stood now and bowed to Tash. He was one of the customs agents she realized. But he looked different now. His hair was fastidiously combed and the heavy mutton chops were gone. His thin black mustache, the new fashion favored by the continentals, was slick as if with pomade. Gone too was the cheap baggy grey suit. The man now wore a resplendent and well tailored dark blue uniform. And judging from the flash and metals it was obviously military.

“So quiet cherie. Am I so handsome I take ze breath away?”

Tash snorted and rolled her eyes before slowly climbing to her feet. He was about her own height and had skin as fair as hers but his hair was coal back. This created a striking contrast and set off his aquiline features to great advantage. Yes, she supposed the man was handsome but in a hard, cold way. She crossed her arms over her chest and continued to stare at him.

Gaspe chuckled. “Defiance? Non, I zink that you are just rude. So much for ze great English. But it iz of no matter. I have decided what I will do with you.”

Tash could keep quiet no longer. “Just who in the hell are you?”

Gaspe roared with laughter. “Ah I was right! It iz rudeness! But you zink I have been rude first, no? Apologies. I am Major Jean Phillipe Gaspe of ze Imperial French Army, assigned to...ah...how do you say? Section des renseignements? Intelligence! Yes that iz it! The Intelligence Section.”

“You’re a spy?” Tash sounded incredulous.

“Oui, why do you sound so surprised Mademoiselle?” Gaspe smiled and smoothed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger.

“Why would a French spy kidnap me? That is what
we
call it, don’t you know? When you forcefully take some one and hold them captive...?”

“Ah, I can see your confusion. I did not set out to kidnap
you
silly girl.
You
just got in my way. But as I said. I now know what I will do with you. You are ze secretary to ze great Phineas Starblower, no?”

“Yes I am and they will be here any minute to rescue me!”

“I think not mademoiselle. You see Starblower’s ship, the lovely Soul of Discretion has problems with ze Danish police. I doubt zey will allow ze ship to leave until ze murder of Phineas Starblower is solved and with some luck ze murder of zat fool Renaud.”

Tash gasped.

“Oh, don’t look so distressed mademoiselle we both know zat was not
your
Starblower. It was in fact one Colonel Robert Carstares lately of your Queen’s service. I doubt he will be missed much, I understand he was not in great favor. Phaw!” Gaspe made a dismissive gesture. “But for you, I think that ze great Starblower would like to have his secretary back, no? We will reach Maribo any time now and you will use the telegraph zere to send him a message. You will tell him that I require one hudred-thousand French francs to be delivered to ze address I will give you. You will be waiting there and we will exchange you for ze money.”

“How do you know he will do it?” Tash asked in as neutral a tone as she could manage.

“Why not? Ransom is common these days and it iz obvious that Mr. Starblower iz no great patriot. He could not be bothered to perform a service for his Queen in person but I think a simple biznezz transaction would interest him. No?”

“No.” Tash replied firmly. “This is not a
‘biznezz’
transaction, and you are
not
a spy. You are just a common criminal, and one, I think is even beneath the notice of a great man like Mr. Starblower.” Tash looked at Gaspe and shook her head in pity.

In two steps Gaspe vaulted off the catwalk and crossed the short distance between them. He slapped Tash hard across the face.

She staggered and nearly passed out as her head snapped back and a fresh wave of pain overwhelmed her. Gaspe grabbed her jacket lapel and hauled her up so that his face was inches from hers.

“You stupid whore!” Gaspe snarled into her face. “You know nothing! You have ze honor of addressing ze world’s greatest spy! I am about to change ze face of zis whole continent! When France finally rids zis land of ze filthy Germans we will turn our great armies on your pathetic island! And you! I have played the greatest joke on you and your English secret service!” Gaspe laughed maniacally and let go of Tash’s lapels, pushing her backwards.

She managed to hold her feet despite the little pinpricks of light flashing across her vision. “What joke?” She said, forcing the words out between her clenched teeth.