The Black Crow Conspiracy (13 page)

XX

Penelope was lost in a darkling fog, fragments of memories fighting free from the cloaking mist that held her in its grip. She saw Monty quailing in front of the Kaiser, heard the whine of Professor Röntgen’s impossible machine, watched as an army of radiant boys marched through the laboratory; but every time she tried to fit these memories into place, the darkness claimed them again.

Penny felt a distant thrum, a strange vibration that slowly dragged her out of the darkness and towards a glowing green light. As she neared it, she felt a burning sensation pulse through her veins again, the pain a pale shadow of what she had felt before. Taking a shuddering breath, Penelope opened her eyes to find herself staring into the face of a ghost.

She scrambled backwards in alarm, the train of her evening gown catching beneath her heel. Amsel rushed to her aid, little realising that he
was the cause of her consternation, the young sailor’s visage glowing as if lit from within. Penny stared down at her hand, the pulsing veins sketching a tracery of fire across her skin.

“What has happened to me?” she murmured, her memories slowly resurfacing out of the darkness. “What has he done to us?”

“He has made us into ghosts,” Amsel replied, staring down at his own hands in disgust. “Do not worry, Miss Tredwell, the effects of Professor Röntgen’s rays are still only temporary. Within a few hours, this strange fire you can feel racing through your veins will be gone, but we have to act now before it is too late.”

Penelope glanced around the laboratory.

“Where’s Monty?” she said. “Where have they taken him?”

“The same place where they have King Edward the Seventh and his family imprisoned,” he replied. “The Tower of London.”

Penny scrambled to her feet, shucking the naval coat that Amsel had draped around her shoulders to the floor. Hurrying to the steel door she turned the handle, only to discover that it was locked.

“We’re trapped,” she said, turning back to Amsel in dismay. “There’s no way out.”

The young sailor shook his head, picking his coat from the floor to drape it around Penny’s shoulders again.

“No locked door can hold us now,” Amsel
replied, reaching down to offer Penelope his hand. She stared down at his luminous fingers, the burning sensation pulsing through her flesh giving her own skin the same eerie glow. “It is all a matter of control,” he told her. “The mastery of mind over matter – you must believe that you can walk through steel unscathed.”

As the fire raced through her veins, Penny took hold of the boy’s hand. Their shining fingers entwined with a sensation like lava melting, and then they stepped forward as one, their bodies slipping through the surface of the door as if it was made of water. Penelope felt her mind whirl, her brain refusing to believe the sensations that were pulsing through her frame. The world burned with the same fire that consumed her from within, her body vibrating in time with the billions of atoms that surrounded her. And then they were on the other side, Penelope untangling her fingers from Amsel’s before turning back to stare at the steel door in disbelief.

“We did it,” she breathed. “We walked through solid steel.”

Amsel nodded, the expression on his face still grim. “We will have to walk through more than steel before the night is out,” he replied, the lantern light outside the laboratory door reflecting the green glow of his skin.

For Penelope, the next few minutes passed as if in a dream, the two of them slipping through the
corridors of the Society. No wall or locked door was a bar to their progress. Escaping through the tradesmen’s entrance, they quickly ascended the steps to the pavement above, scurrying past the Duke of York statue before descending the stone steps that led to the Mall.

“We must hurry,” Amsel said, keeping to the shadows as they rushed down the street. “The Kaiser and my compatriots have a head start and if they reach the Tower before us, then this British Empire of yours will be lost for good.”

“I cannot keep up with your pace,” Penelope gasped, the folds of her evening gown gathered in her grasp. “Not in these heels.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

Penelope stepped out of the shadows, raising her hand to flag down a passing hansom cab.

“What are you doing?” Amsel hissed as the cab driver reined his horses to a halt.

With her face covered by the high collar of her borrowed jacket, Penny stepped up onto the cab’s footplate.

“Making time,” she replied, beckoning for Amsel to follow her. “You see, I know the power of fear.”

“Where to, miss?” the cabbie asked, glancing back over his shoulder as Amsel and Penelope settled into their seats. Penny turned down the collar of her jacket to reveal her glowing green visage.

“The Tower of London,” she replied with a hiss. “And don’t spare the horses.”

With a terror-stricken gasp, the driver shrank back in his box seat. He raised his whip with a crack, fear lining his features as he spurred the horses into life. The hansom cab jolted forward, throwing Penny and Amsel back in their seats, its wheels gathering speed as it headed for the river.

XXI

“This is an act of war,” the voice boomed, its echo reverberating through the dripping walls. “I demand that you release my family at once.”

From the darkness of the catacombs, Penelope craned her neck to see the figure of King Edward the Seventh clutching the bars of an iron cage. The long shadows cast by a flickering lantern glow revealed his Queen and the rest of the royal family standing huddled behind him, all held prisoner in the same sprawling dungeon. In front of the cage, the black-coated figures of half a dozen radiant boys could be glimpsed, the eerie gleam of their features still masked behind swaddling scarves.

By Penelope’s side, Amsel shook his head in defeat.

“We’re too late,” he murmured. It seemed that the fear of God Penelope had struck into the heart of the hansom cab driver hadn’t been enough to get them here in time.

After the trembling driver had deposited them at the bottom of Lower Thames Street, they had scurried past the shadows of the Tower, Amsel taking Penelope’s hand in his own as they plunged into solid stone. Penny’s mind reeled with every step they took, slipping through the walls of the Tower with a giddying sensation. She caught glimpses of roosting ravens, spiral staircases, scarlet uniforms standing sentry in the shadows; every snatched glance a brief respite before she was submerged again into solid stone. They were like ghosts, their passage undetected as they descended through the depths of the Tower before finally reaching this subterranean vault, long forgotten about by those above.

The sound of a cough echoed through the catacombs and then the figure of the Kaiser stepped through the gloom. His military greatcoat was buttoned to his neck, whilst the Imperial State Crown added precious inches to his height. Wilhelm the Second came to a halt in front of the cage, peering in at the King with a devilish smile.

“Come now, Uncle Bertie,” he chided him. “It can hardly be an act of war if I am to sit on Britain’s throne. Let us call this what it really is – a restoration of this nation’s true heir. It is what my dear grandmother wanted, you know. A strong ruler to safeguard the Empire that she built, rather than a prancing peacock like you.”

Facing his nephew, the King’s features flushed with rage.

“How dare you, you trumped-up little pipsqueak!” the King roared. “My mother wanted no such thing!”

The Kaiser pouted in reply.

“Remember that I was there when she died,” he snapped, stepping forward until he was standing almost next to the bars. “As I cradled her in my arms, I swear that she said with her dying breath that I should be King in your stead.”

Thrusting his hands through the bars of the cage, Edward seized hold of the Kaiser’s lapels. “You’re a liar, Willie! You take that back this instant or I swear to God I’ll thrash you to within an inch of your life.”

As the Kaiser spluttered in reply, two of the radiant boys standing guard reached out to pull the King’s hands away; the sight of their glowing fingers caused Edward to fall back with a cry of alarm.

Straightening his stolen crown, the Kaiser stared down at his uncle with a withering look.

“You are hardly in a position to make such threats,” he sneered. “And it is lucky for you that I know the meaning of mercy, Uncle Bertie. If I had wanted to I could have sent my men to assassinate you in your sleep, rather than merely stealing the Crown Jewels to put a stop to your coronation – do not worry, these baubles
will be much safer in the throne room of my Berlin Palace. And if you had agreed to sign the abdication papers renouncing your claim to the throne, then I would have been prepared to let you see out your days at Sandringham. There you would have been able to amuse yourself with your racing pigeons and other such diversions in your dotage.”

Princess Victoria bent to her father’s aid, cradling him in her arms. In the flickering glow of the lantern light, the King’s features appeared deathly pale against the violet of his daughter’s velvet gown. Behind them in the cage, the rest of the royal family stood powerless: the Duke of York stroking his moustache in an agitated manner, whilst Princess Louise silently sobbed. Clutching her grandchildren to her skirts, Queen Alexandra stared at the Kaiser with a cold fury.

“But as it stands,” he continued regardless, “I will have to send you and the rest of your family into exile. I have the perfect home for you in mind – a comfortable manor house in the forests of Prussia, far enough away from the heart of the Empire to keep you all out of mischief.”

“You will not succeed,” the King gasped, slowly rising to his feet again. “The British army will fight to the death for its King.”

“My scheme has been conceived to dispense with any unnecessary bloodshed,” the Kaiser replied coldly. “When I became Emperor, my
generals presented me with countless papers, maps and intelligence reports detailing this island’s defences and setting out plans for invasion. With my dear grandmother still on the British throne, I would not countenance such a move, but after her death I returned again to consider their invasion plans. What I found was a recipe for disaster. Although it was clear that the might of the Imperial German Army could easily conquer this island, with the strength of your navy every possible invasion route was fraught with danger, with no guarantee that my troops would even make harbour. And what was worse, any act of aggression on my part could be the spark that would set the continent ablaze, drawing France, Russia and countless more nations into a bloody war with no clear prospect of victory.”

The Kaiser’s eyes gleamed with a steely light.

“As you know, dear Uncle, I pride myself on being a man of peace. So instead, I conceived this scheme to conquer your nation without a drop of blood spilled. By removing your sorry self and all other obstacles ahead of me in the line of succession, it will be my
bloodline
that delivers me the throne.”

“This is intolerable,” the King gasped, slowly rising to his feet again. “The British people will not stand for such skulduggery – let alone accept the sight of Kaiser Bill on the throne.”

The Kaiser shook his head, the corners of his
mouth turning upwards in a mocking smile that matched the shape of his moustache.

“The British people will rejoice at the news,” he replied. “I will oversee the unification of our two great nations and then take my rightful place on the throne as King Wilhelm – the first Emperor of the Imperial Anglo-Germanic Empire. With our armies and navies joined, I will be able to impose a lasting peace across the globe – by force if any nation dares to challenge me.” He gestured to the phalanx of radiant boys forming a guard of honour behind him. “And with the soldiers of my New Atomic Army, I will restore your upstart colonies such as the United States of America to the bosom of the Empire again. Your British people, dear Uncle, will revere me as their saviour: the King who returned Great Britain to her rightful place in the sun. Grandmother would be so proud of me.”

As King Edward seethed, the Kaiser turned on his heel.

“We can continue this discussion on the voyage to Prussia. I have prepared the guest suites on the
Hohenzollern
. My guards will return to escort you to the ship once I have taken my final leave of this city before I return as its King.”

As the Kaiser spoke, two of the masked radiant boys dragged the bulky figure of a man through the shadows of the vault, the long tails of his dinner jacket scraping against stone. With
a shiver of recognition, Penelope saw this was Monty, the actor’s glazed eyes set in an unseeing stare.

With a jangle of keys, the first of the guards unlocked the iron cage. As the young children sobbed into Queen Alexandra’s skirts, the rest of the royals backed away fearfully. The masked figures unceremoniously dumped Monty in a heap, his unconscious form slumped in the far shadows of the cell.

“In the meantime, Mr Montgomery Flinch will keep you company,” the Kaiser called over his shoulder as the guards locked the cage again. “Although I fear he is hardly in a fit state to recount for you one of his entertaining tales.”

Queen Alexandra’s clipped voice cut through the funereal gloom.

“What have you done to him, you odious little man?”

Scowling, the Kaiser halted his step, glancing back with a thunderous expression on his face.

“Mr Flinch made the mistake of prying too closely into the affairs of state. It is only fitting that he now spends the rest of his days in this dungeon where so many traitors have languished before him.” He narrowed his gaze, fixing the Queen with a savage glare. “And I would remind you to watch your tongue, Aunt Alexandra. After all, I will soon be your King.” Drawing his greatcoat around him, the Kaiser turned again to
leave. “I suggest that you ready your family for the journey ahead. The
Hohenzollern
sails with the tide.”

Forming an escort around their Emperor, the radiant boys brandished their lanterns against the subterranean gloom; the next King of England guarded by a company of grey-green ghosts. As they marched in step through the catacombs, the light from their lanterns swept past Penelope’s hiding place. Fearing discovery, she felt Amsel’s hand close around her own as he pulled her back into the shadows. Focusing her mind, Penny felt her flesh seep through the stone walls of the dungeon, their bodies melting into the darkness until only their eyes remained. Unnoticed, Penny and Amsel looked on as the Kaiser and his guards passed by.

As the sound of their footsteps faded away, Penelope stepped forward again, her mind spinning as she peeled herself free from the stone. She could feel the very atoms of her being still pulsing with Röntgen’s invisible rays, the sensation leaving her breathless.

“Where are they going?” she asked, peering into the darkness as the tread of the Kaiser’s men faded into silence. Amsel emerged from the shadows, his face still lit from within by the same unearthly light that illuminated Penelope’s own.

“The tunnel leads to the wharf,” he said. “A secret route into the Tower once used by
smugglers, but now long-forgotten. That is where the
Hohenzollern
is waiting – in the shadows of St Katharine Docks. We don’t have much time if we are to free the King before the Kaiser sends him into exile.”

Heeding his warning, Penelope turned towards the cage. She could see the King and his family tentatively approaching Monty’s prone form, the dark-haired figure of Princess Victoria already kneeling solicitously by his side. The King glanced up at the sound of Penny’s and Amsel’s approaching footsteps.

“What fresh trickery is this?” he demanded, the Queen clutching his hand at the sight of their glowing green faces.

“Have no fear, Your Majesty,” Penelope replied, the train of her velvet evening gown trailing in her wake. Fixing her mind on the iron bars impeding her path, she reached out her hands as Amsel had shown her. The King watched on aghast as Penelope’s body melted through the cage as if it was made of mist. “We have come to free you from this prison.”