The Wilhelm Conspiracy (A Sherlock Holmes and Lucy James Mystery) Page 10

  He gave a brief bow in the direction of Holmes and then continued. “Now as our final number, Miss Radnar and I would like to offer you a new and original selection, setting to music a newly published poem from one of the foremost young classical scholars at our University College in London. But not to worry,” he went on, with a conspiratorial wink. “It’s a lighthearted little piece. Just a bit of fluff and fun.”

  Beside me, Lucy leaned close to my ear. “I’m afraid Harriet’s all spoony about Arkwright.”

  “Spoony?”

  “Mad about. Infatuated with. See how she looks at him all starry-eyed.”

  Harriet began to play, in waltz tempo, a very simple series of notes and chords in the lower register. After a few bars, Arkwright’s violin came in with a light touch that was at once both sweet and—notwithstanding his introductory remark—melancholy in that ineffable sense that transports one to some distant realm of the imagination. Then Harriet sang, in a most wistful and longing manner, these somewhat ironic words:

  Oh, when I was in love with you,

  Then I was clean and brave,

  And miles around the wonder grew

  How well did I behave.

  And now the fancy passes by,

  And nothing will remain,

  And miles around they’ll say that I

  Am quite myself again.

  The performance lasted barely a minute and a half. For those few brief moments, I felt somehow transported to another realm, one that I realized was only in my imagination, but which felt as though it were a different plane of existence. I know not whether it was because of Harriet’s yearning expression, the haunting notes of Arkwright’s violin, or the words themselves—although those might, in retrospect, be taken as somewhat cynical—but my thoughts turned to my beloved Mary. I wondered whether she—and, indeed, all other souls who had ever lived—was still in existence somewhere, still imbued by some mysterious creating power, alive and intact. Were we all made of the same invisible electrical energy with which Tesla was so familiar, only each of us organized into its own unique individuality? Were we independent of the matter in which we operate on earth, just as a bolt of lightning is independent of the thunderstorm from which it springs? The notion was comforting, somehow. Then my eye was drawn to Holmes’s inscrutable profile. He was looking at the two performers in a most carefully scrutinizing manner, as if attempting to understand their inner thoughts. I wondered whether Holmes also had a concern for Harriet, whose affections for a man of Arkwright’s background and experience would surely go unrequited. But such is the power of music that even while pondering the romantic prospects of the young lady singing before us, my thoughts also seemed to hover in some timeless and distant realm of memory, far, far away from our own.

  Then the music ended and the room was filled with applause.

  Beside me, Lucy leaned closer and whispered, “I wonder if the words are his message to tell her it’s no use.”

  Someone called for an encore, but Arkwright shook his shaven head. “Must save ourselves for the theatre tonight, you know. I’ll be substituting for the first violinist, by the way, if that will induce any of you to purchase a ticket.” There was polite laughter, and then he went on, “Now I will take a question or two, if anyone’s curious about our new little confection.”

  To my surprise, Holmes spoke. “I saw you had no printed music, Mr. Arkwright,” he observed. “Had you memorized your composition?”

  “Oh, well, I wouldn’t say memorized. I go by touch and feel.”

  “Could you repeat the same notes if Miss Radnar were to repeat her part of the song?”

  “I doubt it. Improvisation rarely produces the same results. By definition.”

  I have no idea whether Holmes would have continued this line of questioning, for Kerren had pushed forwards to stand beside Arkwright and chose that moment to pull him aside for a private conversation. I could not hear what they said, but I could see that Kerren was smiling broadly.

  25. AUDIENCE WITH THE PRINCE

  At this point I must remind myself that by the time anyone reads these words, more than a century will have elapsed and historians will doubtless have brought to light the various defects and virtues of the man who is to become King of England in a few years’ time. I am reluctant to disparage the royal family, and I know that Holmes, who is engaged from time to time by many of the royal houses of Europe, has only rarely allowed me to disclose any information whatsoever concerning such cases or clients. However, I also want to set down what happened, and I shall be as objective as I can.

  I climbed the theatre stairs alone and arrived at the royal box as instructed, fifteen minutes before the Savoy Company’s performance was to begin. A uniformed attendant examined my invitation and motioned me forwards. Behind heavy brown velvet drapes I saw a man’s face partially concealed, observing me. Then the drapes were parted and I saw Kerren standing at the entrance to the royal box. He appeared to be expecting me. Behind him sat the Prince of Wales.

  “Dr. Watson is here, Your Majesty,” he said, over his shoulder.

  “Where is Holmes?” asked the Prince, in a reedy tenor voice.

  “He will join us by the second act,” I said. “He is following up a clue.”

  “My invitation plays second fiddle, does it?”

  “The clue concerns the case that he is working on for your government.”

  “Oh. That’s different, of course. Far more important. Well, do come in. Don’t just stand there. You know Tesla. Here, sit beside Sophie, where I can see you.”

  The box had two rows of seats, four and four. His Royal Highness sat alone, in the second seat of the upper row. Lady Radnar sat at the left end of the first row, and Tesla at the right end. Each of them had to turn around somewhat awkwardly to see me and, I realized, to address the Prince. I took my seat as instructed. Kerren sat between Tesla and me.

  The Prince, as everyone knows, comports himself with great dignity and purpose, which I felt at the first moment I met the appraising gaze from his determined brown eyes. At such close quarters, I also could not avoid being impressed by his perfectly trimmed beard, and by the expensive fabrics of his beautifully tailored clothing. I could not tell how tall he was, of course, because he was sitting down, but his girth—the subject of ridicule at times—was evident. His rotund belly bulged from beneath his tight waistcoat and came to rest on his upper thighs. I wondered fleetingly what enormous proportions would result if the Prince’s weight were not kept in check by his annual pilgrimages to Bad Homburg. I wondered if his wardrobe contained many different sets of clothing to match the variations in his measurements that would occur during the time he was undergoing his treatment, or later, when the excesses of his ordinary diet caused him to gradually regain the weight he had lost. His immoderate bulk notwithstanding, he is a known favourite amongst the ladies, being greatly affable and charming when he wants to be.

  He stared at me for a moment, his jaws clamping down on a fat unlit cigar. As he pulled it out to speak, he gave a grimace of a smile, showing teeth that were both crooked and tobacco stained. At that moment I recalled what Lansdowne and Carte had said about his having taken a fancy to Lucy. I resolved to do whatever I could to prevent him from being alone with her.

  But he was speaking, and my duty was to listen.

  “I wanted to get you all together, including Holmes, so you could tell me what I need to know of this electrical weapon. Kerren and Tesla, you want to sell it to me, so your views are tainted. Sophie, Kerren is your brother, so on this subject I can’t trust you either. I can rely on Holmes to be objective, but he is otherwise engaged. We have ten minutes, and then I want you out of here so my guests can be seated before the curtain goes up. Dr. Watson, what does Holmes think?”

  “He does not yet know whether the weapon will work. There is a part missing.”

  “I know that. Kerren told me just now.”

  “But I can rebuild it!” Kerren said. He gave a proud glance at hi
s sister, and then turned back to the Prince. “I have the plans clearly focused in my memory—”

  “Never mind what you can do, Kerren. Dr. Watson, does Holmes think the thing is worth pursuing? If it does work?”

  “I believe so.”

  The Prince went on, “Wilhelm says they have the thing in their possession and can demonstrate it.”

  “We saw a demonstration this morning,” I said. “In the Kurpark. The Kaiser pointed out a tree, and his men destroyed it.”

  “How?”

  “It appeared to be split in two by lightning. Only I did not see a flash.”

  “Indeed. Well, Wilhelm has challenged me to a duel. Of sorts. Next week on Dover beach. His electrical weapon against mine, shooting at a military balloon anchored on the beach, with the two of us observing from the top of the famous Dover cliff.”

  The Prince paused and looked beyond us, beyond the busy musicians tuning their instruments in the orchestra pit and across the theatre. Directly across from us, there was activity in the box that faced ours. The box curtains parted and Kaiser Wilhelm appeared, uniformed in crisp white and gold braid, with a white plumed hat tucked under his right arm. From the audience below there came a sudden outburst of cheering and applause. Behind the Kaiser, the members of his party were taking their seats, the men dressed in the usual black evening wear, the contrast of their dark apparel making the Kaiser’s white uniform appear even more distinctive. The others sat, while the Kaiser stood at attention, basking in the crowd’s acclaim. Then, after seating himself and turning conversationally to his wife, who sat on his right, and then to von Bülow, who sat on his left, he looked across at our box. With a beatific smile, he pointed with his right forefinger at the Prince, lifting his right thumb and curving the other fingers as though he were miming the shooting of a pistol.

  “Do you see that?” said the Prince. “This is the man who proposes an alliance between our nations.” Though he spoke in a hushed tone, his voice took on a new intensity as he continued, “If I accept Wilhelm’s challenge with a flawed piece of weaponry, that strutting little popinjay will have no need for an alliance. He will keep his version of the electrical cannon and take it back to Germany. His scientific men will improve it and make it portable and easy for soldiers and sailors to operate in all types of weather. They will manufacture thousands and thousands of deadlier and deadlier machines. Before we know it, Wilhelm will have the weaponry to threaten England with extermination.” His gaze went from Kerren to Tesla and then back. “I shall do all in my power to prevent that, gentlemen.”

  Both men nodded solemn faced. Plainly they realized the importance of the Prince’s words.

  “I want to be doubly sure that our machine will work,” the Prince said firmly. “I want to witness the machine in operation before we accept Wilhelm’s challenge. And before I see the machine, I want to hear from Sherlock Holmes that he has personally witnessed its success.”

  Below us, the conductor was stepping up to his podium, to the polite applause of the audience.

  “Now, my guests are waiting to join me,” the Prince continued. “There are five seats reserved for you below. Dr. Watson, when Mr. Holmes returns, have him come up here and report to me.”

  26. A GRIM DISCOVERY

  I left word at the theatre’s main entrance to tell Holmes where we were seated. To my relief, he arrived safely about one hour later, taking the empty aisle seat on my left. A white handkerchief covered the knuckles of his right hand. It was stained red in a few spots.

  We were witnessing the last minute of the first act. From the stage and orchestra pit before us came waves of music, reverberating at peak volume. Faeries in their colourful costumes waved menacing magic wands at a group of peers, who knelt before them, pleading in their crimson robes. Lucy’s character, rejected by her tenor counterpart, was stumbling towards the two lords who yearned for her. The timpani thundered. In the instant just before each thunderclap, Tesla’s equipment produced lightning flashes that shimmered brilliantly over all, to the delight of the audience.

  Holmes whispered, “Where is Kerren?”

  The curtain fell. The audience roared its approval. I looked over to where Kerren had been sitting, at the other end of the row beside Lady Radnar. The seat was now empty.

  We made our way in the direction of Lady Radnar. When we reached her, Holmes asked where her brother had gone.

  She shook her head in bewilderment. “He left during the performance. I don’t know why, and I don’t know for where.”

  “How long ago did he leave, Lady Radnar?”

  “About ten minutes ago. He stood up and left. He walked straight up the aisle. Everyone was looking. People behind us whispered. I was mortified.”

  “Was Tesla seated with you?”

  “I have not seen Tesla since we had our audience with the Prince. I think he went backstage. He said something about checking on his equipment.”

  Holmes thanked her and we took our leave. As we pressed through the crowded centre aisle, moving against the tide of the audience members on their way to the foyer for their interval refreshment, I hurriedly told Holmes of what the Prince had said about Kaiser Wilhelm’s challenge, taking care that those around us could not hear. Holmes merely nodded. Then, as the last spectator moved behind us, I asked, “What did you learn at the doctor’s office?”

  Holmes kept moving forwards. “I found a file with Kerren’s name. The file was empty; however, I was able to discern Dr. Olfrig’s special field of practice. And an attendant accosted me, as you may have deduced from the handkerchief I have applied to my knuckles. On the whole, the visit was most instructive.”

  We went, unchallenged, through the pass door between the auditorium and the stage, climbed some stairs, and found our way into the area where the actors were preparing for the second act.

  Before us there was a flurry of activity. A backcloth painted to depict the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben was being slowly lowered from the flies above, while stage staff wrestled with the palace guard scenic piece that would be used at the opening of the second act. This guard box, built along the lines of the small peaked-roof structures within which a guard could take shelter outside Buckingham Palace, stood on a low wheeled platform, and the two men were heaving it off the platform to place it into its proper stage position.

  “Where is Tesla?” Holmes asked one of the two men. He merely shrugged. “Wobei die elektrisch maschine?” Holmes asked. At this the man nodded, pointing towards the wing space at the left of the backcloth.

  We found Tesla a few yards off the stage, on his knees, securing a canvas drape around the base of another wheeled platform.

  “Have you seen Kerren?” Holmes asked.

  “He was here only a few minutes ago. He came in during the performance with a strange expression on his face and bent over the first coil of the machine, as if he wanted to see it up close. He had both hands behind his back but I kept him away, of course.”

  “What did you say to him?”

  Tesla blushed. “I may have been less polite than I ought to have been. But I couldn’t have him tinkering. He might have hurt himself, or spoiled the effect of the lightning. He seemed to understand, because he nodded and went off.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “I have no idea. I was busy with the machine.”

  “Was the machine still making lightning flashes?”

  “Not while he was here. I was waiting for the very end of the act, just before the curtain falls. The flashes resume then.”

  “And how are the flashes produced?”

  “There is a wire connected to the machine to supply electricity, and a switch that I hold in my hand to create the sparks.”

  “You had that responsibility?”

  “I insisted on it. The stage manager gave me a hand signal, and I moved the switch.”

  “Were you looking at the machine?”

  “No, I was looking at the stage manager. But I could see the light from the
spark all around me, and I could hear the crackling sound that the spark produces.”

  “So you made lightning with the machine, Kerren arrived, you warned him to stay away, and he departed. Then you worked the machine again, just before the curtain fell. Does that describe the sequence of events?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Did Kerren say anything to you?”

  “Not while we were here. The noise from the performers was too great to allow for conversation. But he did speak very freely to me before the performance began, just after our audience with the Prince. He was very excited.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He wanted us to work together to quickly reconstruct his apparatus. He said he had the plans in a London bank vault and knew just how to get them. He thought we could be ready to demonstrate the machine to you in Dover by the weekend. He was sure it would perform properly and then you could send a telegram to the Prince to come see it for himself. He said he was sure it would be the equal or the better of any machine that Wilhelm’s people could have produced, and that when the challenge demonstration took place, our machine would emerge victorious.”

  “Have you any idea where he might be now?”

  Tesla did not.

  Neither did D’Oyly Carte, whom we found watching the preparations for act two. At Holmes’s request, Carte brought us to a long table where many of the ladies were seated in front of mirrors, working on their makeup.

  Lucy, seated beside Harriet, caught sight of us in her mirror. Her green eyes widened, but only for a moment, and she did not turn around, nor did she speak, other than to whisper something to Harriet.

  Led by Carte, we approached to within an arm’s length of the ladies.

  “Ladies, I wonder if you could help this gentleman,” Carte said, with a nod towards Holmes. “He has a question for you, and I would be grateful for your assistance.”