Sigmund Shaw: A Steampunk Adventure (26 page)

BOOK: Sigmund Shaw: A Steampunk Adventure
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“You think it will come to that?”

 

“I do. I’ve seen people like him. They believe in something so strongly that they are beyond reason. But never was one them in such a high position. I’m afraid it will take more than words to stop him. Police Commissioner Bradford is a good man and he has contacts in the army – I’ll talk with him.”

 

Sigmund said, “I have a friend who might be able to help, he designed the mechanical creations I saw in the factory.”

 

“Wait, your friend
helps
the faction?” Holmes asked incredulously.

 

“It’s a long story, but I assure you, he is not working for the faction. Without him we wouldn’t know anything about the cubes. My friend is one of the leaders of the opposition.”

 

Holmes took this in and then said, “Do you know where he is at right now? He should come with me to see the Commissioner.”

 

“Yes, he is at the Academy of Future Science.”

 

“Very good. Let’s pick him up on the way. We have little time to lose.”

25.

 

 

The ride from Grimkraken’s home pushed Sigmund’s horse, Ham, to the limit. He overtook several other cabs and even rivaled some of the steam cars. Sigmund worried about the slickness of the streets as they glistened with moisture from the night’s fog.

 

Crossing London Bridge, Sigmund barely looked at the water that usually drew all his attention. Across the bridge, he turned left and slowed the cab next to the Academy of Future Science, and told Holmes to wait for him. Sigmund jumped down from the driver’s seat, checked his watch – 9:30 – and ran around the back of the building, partially out of habit, partially because he knew exactly how to get to Sutton’s office this way. As he knew he would, he found Sutton – and Zachary – in his office. Without any preamble, Sigmund said, “Come on, we have to go.”

 

Sutton grabbed his briefcase and asked, “Go where? What happened?”

 

“We are going to the Police Commissioner, I have Chief Inspector Holmes in my cab. I’ll explain the rest on the way.” Sigmund then walked out the door giving no doubt as to the urgency of time.

 

Sutton caught up before the large rear doors, Zachary riding on his shoulder. “I take it you were unable to convince Grimkraken to give up the cube to the public?”

 

“No.” Sigmund shook his head. “Definitely not. He is determined to start his war. I’ve never met a lunatic before, but I think I met one tonight.”

 

“My word,” was all that Sutton could manage.

 

They reached Sigmund’s cab and Sutton rode next to Sigmund in the driver seat – Zachary quietly watched all the proceedings and scenery as he changed his perch from Sutton to Sigmund. Introducing Sutton to Holmes would have to wait. Pushing Ham on again, the three men drove the short distance to the London Bridge Train Station.

 

The station was moderately busy, not too surprising for a Friday evening, many young bachelors returning from, or possibly heading to, some amorous encounter. The three men paid little heed to any of the other would-be passengers and waited anxiously for the next train. While they waited, Sigmund introduced Richard Sutton to Chief Inspector Holmes, and then proceeded to catch Sutton up on the night’s happenings.

 

Before Sutton could respond to the complete story, the 9:50 train arrived. They boarded and found seats near each other. A few other passengers stared at the group, particularly at Zachary, but no one bothered them. Sutton admitted to never having met Grimkraken, but had heard stories of his seemingly emphatic and even charismatic nature. It was Sutton’s understanding that Grimkraken had won over many people to his way of seeing things. Sutton commented that he had hoped that what he heard was mostly exaggeration but from what Sigmund told him, he was starting to think that the stories were true.

 

As the train continued on, the three of them fell silent – all contemplating their own versions of possible outcomes. It made for a grim ride. They seemed to radiate a negative energy as most of the other passengers gave them a wide berth within the train car. One child ran up to see the monkey but his mother quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the men.

 

After about ten minutes, they reached Morden Station, disembarked, and from there they headed East into the night towards Mitcham. They walked quickly, none of them speaking but all thinking that time was not something that they had a generous supply of. When they reached London Road, they went along it northwards until they reached the cross-street and then the driveway of Sir Edward Bradford’s manor. The path to the manor was dark and would have been difficult to pass if it wasn’t for a light out of the lower front window of the home. The home itself would best be described as a cottage, if it wasn’t for its large size. It had a country feel to it with its exposed wooden frame filled in-between with red brick. The pointed roof was hung with grey, moss covered shingles, and interspersed with multiple chimneys. Even in the darkness and fog, it gave off a welcoming feel.

 

Holmes led the three to the door and knocked sharply. It was near 10:30 and no doubt the household was asleep, but Holmes repeated his knocks until finally there was a noise inside and then a voice that called out, sounding somewhat annoyed, “What the devil is going on? Who is making all this noise, and at this hour?”

 

Holmes, taking the lead, answered, “It is Chief Inspector Holmes, Commissioner. I beg your pardon, but we must talk to you.”

 

The three could hear locks being undone and as the door opened, Sir Edward Bradford stood before them, empty left sleeve of his robe hanging freely, white hair a bit mussed, eyes sharp despite the hour and surprise of the visit. He asked, “Who is with you Inspector? You said ‘we’.”

 

“I have with me Richard Sutton of the Academy of Future Science and…” Holmes paused. He realized that most everyone still viewed Sigmund as a treasonous murderer – including, no doubt, the commissioner. Still, there was no time to be coy, “and Sigmund Shaw.”

 

“You’ve caught Sigmund Shaw?” Sir Bradford asked in wonderment and then in even more wonderment asked, “And you brought him here?”

 

“‘Caught’ wouldn’t be the right word commissioner. Perhaps we could step inside and I can explain everything?”

 

Sir Bradford looked the group over and asked, “Is that a monkey on your shoulder?”

 

Sutton responded sheepishly, “Yes, sir. This is Zachary. He won’t cause any trouble.”

 

“Hmm. See that he doesn’t. I’ve spent more than enough time around the animals in India. Troublesome beasts.” Then, not sensing any kind of trap, he stepped aside and let the three men – and one monkey – enter the home.

 

The inside of the home was full of many artifacts, and by the looks of them, mostly from India, but some that undoubtedly came from other parts of the world. Many trophies adorned the walls, from quick deer-like creatures to ferocious animals like cheetahs and bears. Sir Bradford led them through the still, dark foyer and into a sitting area. He turned on the electric lights and had each find a seat. Sigmund and Sutton each took half of a burgundy couch, while Holmes took a plush chair. Sir Bradford, satisfied that all were comfortable, took a large cushioned chair. Once all were settled, Sir Bradford looked at each person and then settled his gaze on Holmes. He asked, “Tell me Chief Inspector, why isn’t Mr. Shaw in jail, or at least in shackles?”

 

“Simply put, Sir Bradford, Sigmund Shaw is not guilty. What is more, I know who is guilty and what he has planned. The crime I’ve been investigating is only the beginning of the story. The events that are currently in motion, and possibly speeding up, are of a magnitude that I cannot possibly take on alone. That is why we are here – we need your help.”

 

Sir Bradford continued to stare at Holmes - not really looking at him, more through him in contemplation. After several seconds he said, “Holmes, you are not the kind of man who asks for help easily. It worries me that whatever you have found has led you to me. Why don’t you tell me from the beginning what is going on and who is responsible for the bombing.”

 

“Yes, sir. Each of us have a part to tell. The beginning, as we know it, belongs to Richard Sutton. Mr. Sutton, would you please tell your part?”

 

Sutton, a little nervous in front of Sir Bradford, looked at Holmes and then at Sir Bradford, “Of course.” He swallowed hard, and made sure that he had his facts straight before he began, “I should start with my profession, which should add the necessary background for understanding. I work for the Academy of Future Science as the chief engineer. My job is to design and create new machines, often in the form of vehicles, to advance technologies for the common man and for the Empire. I do not want to sound arrogant but I enjoy my job and I am good at it. A few months back I was asked to design a completely new vehicle which had a primary purpose of war. This is not uncommon in itself but the parameters they gave me were very uncommon – the designs they wanted revolved around a power source that does not exist. I guess I should have realized then what was going on but it was so fanciful, really impossible – or so I thought – that I suspected nothing. I took it as a creative exercise and created a great machine – strong, fast, even agile. I turned the design over to the government and thought nothing more of it. Some weeks later I heard rumors that my design was being built! I assumed that they were altering my designs to allow for coal but that idea didn’t sit well with me. You see, coal engines with their weight and limitations would ruin the effectiveness of my design. I finally decided to investigate what was going on but everywhere I turned was a dead end, people refused to talk about it. This caused me as much, if not more worry, than the rumors that my designs were being built. Something was being hidden. It was then that I received information from Marcus Pratt.”

 

Sir Bradford cocked his head at the name, clearly knowing it but without context. Holmes helpfully chimed in, “Marcus Pratt was the man found hanging off of Tower Bridge.”

 

With a look of shock, Sir Bradford turned his head towards Sutton, as if looking for corroboration. Sutton gave it to him in the form of a nod and then continued, “Marcus worked in the Ministry of Defence and became aware of a faction in the government that wants war. He did not have a lot of details, other than it was gaining momentum, and that there was talk of a new power source being delivered by two German Scientists. Hearing about the power source and knowing of my designs, made it very clear that the government, or at least part of the government believed the power source was real. It was at this point that Marcus, myself, and a few others decided to act. To save time, I will cut straight to the decision we made – we were going to blackmail Sigmund here to spy on the meeting with the German Scientists and if possible, steal the new power source. We wanted to expose it and give it to everyone. The potential of the invention was great and could be devastating in the wrong hands.”

 

Sir Bradford had been listening closely. His attention to details, regardless if they came from a lowly street cleaner or from the Queen herself, made him a likeable and capable commander of men. “If I may interrupt for just a moment, Mr. Sutton, why was Mr. Shaw chosen for the, um, assignment?”

 

Sigmund, feeling like a man confessing sins to a priest, spoke plainly, “Sir Bradford, the reason for their choice of me was because I have a history of being a thief. I stole things in order to support my family after my father died. My brother in law knew this and he was friends with Marcus Pratt.” Sigmund paused, waiting for some kind of rebuke.

 

Nodding slowly, Sir Bradford said, “Well, we can deal with that later. Please, continue the account.”

 

Sigmund felt a bit of a weight lift off his shoulder. He just admitted to the Police Commissioner his past crimes. It may not work out well for him in the future, but for now, he had nothing to hide for the first time since he was a young man. He was nearly giddy at the feeling that unexpectedly flowed over him, despite all the bad that had taken place that night.

 

Sutton looked at Sigmund and encouraged, “I think it is time for you to take over the account.”

 

This brought Sigmund back to the present. Still feeling exhilarated and a touch guilty for feeling so exhilarated, he said, “Quite right. Marcus Pratt followed through on their plan and indeed blackmailed me to spy on the meeting and to try and steal the power source if it proved to be real. It was for this reason that I was at the scene of the crime. I am compelled to reiterate that I had nothing to do with the bomb. However, before the bomb went off, I was able to learn about this new power source. It is real. It could replace coal.” He paused as the Commissioner’s eyes went wide. “It is an amalgam cube that produces tremendous heat for long periods of time – months at a time, perhaps longer. It is revolutionary in every way. A full army of machines powered by these cubes would be nearly unstoppable by current military machines. Not long after learning all of this, the bomb did go off. I count myself fortunate to have even survived. I was able to escape custody and have been trying to piece things together since then. I assumed that Marcus Pratt was behind the whole thing but when I found out that he was killed, my brother-in-law came clean with the plan that Marcus Pratt and Richard Sutton,” Sigmund nodded at Richard, “had come up with. It was then that I decided to speak with Richard myself. He filled in a few more details as to the war faction and the design he had created. But our biggest revelation was when we discovered that there was a person at the meeting with the German scientists that had not died, a person who I saw in the room.”

 

Sir Bradford was following along with every word, leaning forward in his chair, and couldn’t contain the question, “Who was it?”

 

“It was Christoph Grimkraken.”

 

“The new Defence Minister?” exclaimed the commissioner. “It can’t be!” He slumped back in his chair, giving all his strength to comprehending what he was hearing.

BOOK: Sigmund Shaw: A Steampunk Adventure
11.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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