At a distant table sat the Laird of Dunoon in his distinctive newspaper bonnet, sharing a joke with Count Otto Black, a gentleman of leisure presently in London to promote vampirism.
Lords and ladies came and went, sat and dined and chatted.
Cameron Bell sat all on his own and sipped a little champagne.
And as the clock struck the half-hour past one, a lady veiled and all in black entered the glamorous restaurant swinging a parasol. She whispered words to the maître d’, who guided her to the table of Cameron Bell. The great detective rose from his chair as the maître d’ assisted the lady into hers.
Cameron Bell reseated himself ‘I am very glad that you chose to honour me with your presence,’ he said. ‘Might I enliven your empty glass with champagne?’
The lady nodded that this would be acceptable and Mr Bell poured out a generous glass.
‘I have many important appointments,’ said Miss Violet Wond. ‘Let us make this meeting brief, if you will be so kind.’
A waiter brought menus. Mr Bell and Violet Wond perused them.
‘I am informed that the chateaubriand is particularly delicious,’ said Mr Bell, toasting the lady in black with his glass of champagne.
‘Then that will serve,’ said Violet Wond. ‘Now tell me what you wish of me.’
Cameron Bell drew the attention of the waiter. ‘Two of the chateaubriands,’ he said. ‘I shall have mine medium-rare. What of you, Miss Wond?’
‘I will have mine raw,’ said Violet Wond.
‘With a side order of those French-fried potatoes that are all the current rage,’ said Cameron Bell.
The waiter departed, worrying over raw meat, and Cameron Bell looked long and hard at Miss Wond.
‘Seeking to discern my inner feelings from the study of my outer garments?’ asked the lady in black. ‘You have surely learned all you need to know from my personal underthings.’
Cameron Bell’s cheeks pinkened at this. ‘My sincere apologies for encroaching upon your privacy,’ said he, ‘but so it must be, for such is my line of work.’
‘I have not yet decided whether my line of work will include your execution,’ said Miss Violet Wond, toasting Mr Bell then sipping champagne beneath her veil.
‘It is in neither of our interests to make an enemy of the other.’
‘I can never be your friend,’ said Violet Wond. ‘Indeed. And is there not a popular axiom: “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer”?’
‘Please just tell me what you want,’ said Violet Wond.
‘Peace between us and that we can work together.’
‘I work alone. I told you that.’
‘What do you know,’ asked Cameron Bell, ‘of Miss Lavinia Dharkstorrm?’
The stem of Miss Wond’s champagne glass shattered in her hand.
Champagne splashed upon her black silk glove.
Mr Bell offered assistance, but this was declined.
‘I am unharmed,’ said Violet Wond. ‘But you speak a name that is not unknown to me.
‘And I would gather that you hold no affection for this particular female.’
‘What is she to you?’ asked Violet Wond.
‘My greatest enemy,’ said the great detective, in all candour. ‘A fearsome adversary who is presently engaged upon a course of action that may well destroy this world and all the others.’
‘Really?’ said Miss Wond. ‘And I thought that I was the Angel of Death.’
‘Miss Dharkstorrm is the most evil creature I have ever met.’
‘I feel perhaps on that we are agreed.’
A waiter had hastened forward to offer Miss Wond a replacement glass and fill it. Another was worrying at broken glass with a tiny brush.
‘Please leave us,’ said Violet Wond, in a tone that left no room for misinterpretation. The waiters scuttled away at speed. Miss Wond sipped further champagne.
‘You know much, Mr Bell,’ said she, at length, ‘but you know far from all. Speak to me of Lavinia Dharkstorrm and what she means to you.
The chateaubriands arrived upon a gilded trolley drawn by a monkey servant dressed as for the hunt. A human counterpart served at Cameron’s table, then snapped his fingers and waved the monkey on.
‘Are you sure you can eat that raw?’ asked Cameron Bell.
‘I have very strong teeth,’ said Violet Wond.
And so these two ate chateaubriand and during this eating Cameron Bell told Violet Wond all that he knew of Lavinia Dharkstorrm. He spoke of how she had acquired the four sacred reliquaries that when ‘brought together into an unhallowed place’ would precipitate the arrival of the End Times with the Seven Plagues, terminating in the Time of Terrible Darkness, the Death of the First-Born and the Coming of the Apocalypse, which wasn’t a very nice thing.
And he went on to say that Lavinia Dharkstorrm had informed him that she performed her unspeakable actions in the service of another — her mistress. Mr Bell confessed that he did not know who this personage was, but suspected her to be someone of all-surpassing evil.
Violet Wond dined upon raw chateaubriand, which she consumed with loud munching sounds, but spoke no words whilst Cameron told his story.
Once the story was all done and the plates all cleared away, she spoke.
‘I know well Lavinia Dharkstorrm,’ she said, ‘for she and I were girls together at Roedean. And I know well the hag she serves — her name is Madam Glory. She was the headmistress, who was dismissed for unspeakable cruelties.’
Cameron Bell, who had been educated at a minor public school, raised his eyebrows to this. Unspeakable cruelty was the order of the day in every public school. It was considered character-building. It was a tradition and an old charter and simply the way things were done.
‘I have no doubt,’ said Violet Wond, ‘that Lavinia Dharkstorrm is a woman most evil and that her mistress Madam Glory would be capable of any abomination. My question would be the obvious one. What would they have to gain by destroying this world?’
Cameron Bell shrugged his shoulders, drew the champagne bottle from its silver cooler and poured out glasses for Violet Wond and himself ‘There is much about this business I find puzzling, so I must ask you this. Having listened to what I had to say, and having as you do a prior knowledge of Miss Dharkstorrm, will you aid me in bringing her to justice and halting her evil schemes?’
‘That you might profit by claiming the rewards for the stolen reliquaries?’
‘This is no longer about money,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘if indeed it ever was. But I will split the rewards with you, if you wish.’
‘That will not be necessary. I am a person of independent means.
‘Will you consent to help me in tracking down this evil woman?’
Violet Wond toyed with her champagne glass. ‘She has stolen certain precious items,’ she said, ‘which makes her a criminal. And I have no love for criminals.’
‘Splendid,’ said Cameron Bell.
‘I have not finished,’ said Violet Wond. ‘You have had your say, so let me have mine. As you are aware to some degree, a great wrong was done to me. This wrong may never be put to rights, although I remain hopeful that with the help of Mr Rutherford, it may. But I have set myself a task, Mr Bell — to right the wrongs that are done to those less able than myself I take an eye for an eye. I kill those who have killed.’
‘Lavinia Dharkstorrm is certainly capable of murder,’ said Cameron Bell.
‘I am speaking!’ said Miss Wond. ‘And Miss Dharkstorrm is more than just capable, I assure you. I will enter into this partnership, Mr Bell, if you will agree to three things.’
Cameron Bell said, ‘Go on.’
‘Firstly,’ said Violet Wond, ‘when this matter is resolved, we go our separate ways. I will leave London and you will agree not to pursue me.
‘Gladly,’ said Cameron Bell.
‘Secondly, as I have no need for money, you may take all of the rewards.’
‘I am certainly in agreement with that,?
?? said Cameron Bell.
‘I had not entirely finished. Because thirdly, you may only take all the money if I am allowed to deal with Miss Dharkstorrm directly.’
‘Directly?’ said Cameron Bell.
‘I mean, in as few words as need be spoken, that I intend to kill her.’
There was a certain silence then and Cameron Bell did scratchings at his chin.
‘Let me say this,’ said Violet Wond. ‘I do not believe in any of this End Times hocus-pocus. The Thames turned blood-red for a day but that means nothing at all. I have reasons of my own for dealing with Miss Dharkstorrm.’
‘Then we are agreed upon all points,’ said Cameron Bell.
‘Most fortunate for you,’ said Violet Wond.
Cameron Bell looked puzzled.
‘I hold upon my lap a ray gun,’ said Miss Violet Wond, ‘and had this meeting not gone to my liking, I would have had no compunction about shooting you dead with it, here and now.’
‘Oh my dear dead mother,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘Should I order more champagne?’
‘To celebrate your lucky escape? Why not?’ Cameron Bell ordered further champagne. ‘To our partnership,’ said he, when glasses had been replenished.
‘To justice,’ said Violet Wond, and they touched their glasses together. ‘Not to biblical nonsense, but to justice alone.’
And then they heard the screams.
Outside the Savoy Grill, folk were howling and crying, running this way and that. A frightful hubbub was suddenly on the go.
‘And what of this?’ said Cameron Bell. ‘Not anarchists, I trust.’
The door to the Savoy Grill burst open and a fellow staggered through it. He was bespattered in greens and reds and had taken a pounding to the head.
‘Flee!’ cried this fellow. ‘The world ends today! Frogs rain from the sky.’
42
rogs that fall from an empty sky aren’t easy to explain. They frighten those they fall upon and baffle all and sundry.
Miss Violet Wond told Cameron Bell that she had no time for frogs, bade him farewell, raised her parasol and strode in a purposeful fashion from the Savoy Grill.
Cameron Bell stood at the window and watched as she marched away. ‘What a most remarkable woman,’ said the detective.
Cardinal Cox and his catamite watched the remarkable sight.
‘What breed of frogs do you think they are?’ enquired the catamite.
‘Biblical,’ said the cardinal. ‘And I’ll wager that if you were to take one down to the Natural History Museum, it would be identified as Amietophrynus kassasii, or the Nile Delta Toad.’
‘So not a frog at all,’ said the catamite, enjoying the spectacle of Londoners fleeing the terrible downpour.
‘The ancient Egyptians did not make the distinction. They included in their great pantheon of deities a frog god Heqet. It was her duty to assist with forming children in the womb. She shared a temple with Osiris as Mistress of the Two Lands.’
‘You are the very personification of wisdom,’ said the catamite.
Cardinal Cox patted his special servant on the head. ‘Ha, look at the state of that bobby,’ he cried. ‘That toad knocked him right off his penny-farthing.’
Another bobby fell from his bike in the middle of the Mall.
‘What an extraordinary business,’ said Lord Brentford.
He, Leah and Darwin sat in a hansom cab. The driver had fled for cover. The horse took it all in his stride.
‘Signs and portents in the Heavens,’ said the beautiful Venusian. ‘I warned you, Berty. Bad things are to come.
‘Let us not be gloomy, my dear. I am sure there must be a logical explanation, but for the life of me, I cannot think of one.
Darwin could think of several, but he honoured his vow of silence and watched as horrid things came pouring down.
Ernest Rutherford and the Lords Babbage and Tesla had their opinions. As they sheltered beneath the awning of the Victoria Palace Theatre observing the remarkable phenomenon, each fashioned a theory fitting to their beliefs.
‘Pan-Spermia,’ said Ernest Rutherford, ‘in that the seeds of life drift for ever across the infinity of space, occasionally falling onto a planet which offers a fertile soil to take the seed. Here we observe an interesting example. Had this occurred when the Earth was young, then perhaps we would all now be descended from frogs.’
‘An interesting proposition,’ said Lord Babbage, ‘but incorrect. Here we are observing, as it were, the bigger picture.
Recall, as well we all recall, the matter of the recurring chicken. Here we have an example on a greatly magnified scale. Some temporal anomaly of the cosmic persuasion has occurred — these creatures are of trans-dimensional origin.’
‘An educated guess,’ said Lord Tesla. ‘I, however, was brought up as a Catholic and I know the End Times when I see them. The Thames has already turned to blood and this is the Second Plague of the Apocalypse. Let us make peace with our Maker before the Terrible Darkness falls. And—’
But Lord Tesla now found himself all alone, as Ernest Rutherford and Lord Babbage, both sadly shaking their heads, had returned to their work on the Marie Lloyd.
‘After all my hard work!’ shouted Chief Inspector Case, pacing before the window of his office. ‘After solving the Crime of the Century and engaging in a life-and-death struggle with a criminal mastermind high up on Tower Bridge — this!’ He gestured hopelessly towards the outré goings on beyond his office window. ‘Frogs falling on London. Hundreds and thousands of flipping frogs. The papers will be full of this. They will forget all about me.’
Constable Reekie watched in awe as the froggy/toady things came streaking down. ‘They won’t forget you, sir,’ he said. ‘Have no fear of that.’
‘Very nice of you to say so,’ said Chief Inspector Case.
‘Not if your wife has anything to do with it, sir. She’s just served you a summons at the front desk. Means to have her day in court. Well, her week in court… or perhaps her month. She told me personally that she knows about all manner of things that you have got up to here at the Yard.’
‘What?’ cried the chief inspector. ‘What?’
‘Apparently you talk in your sleep, sir.
Chief Inspector Case made growling sounds. ‘Where is my crown and my kiwi cloak?’ he asked.
‘Would you like to see a wonderful thing?’ Lord Brentford asked of Darwin.
Darwin nodded cautiously and hoped that it would not involve him being turned into a frog.
‘It is at the palace,’ said Lord Brentford. ‘At Buckingham Palace, up ahead. It is why we have come here today and you are going to see it.’
Darwin made a hopeful face and wondered what this wonderful thing might be.
‘You will be the first monkey ever to see it,’ said Lord Brentford, shifting his good arm out of the way of rapidly falling froggery. ‘And you’ll get to meet the Queen again and that monkey maid Emily you took such a shine to, eh?’
A big wide smile appeared on the face of Darwin.
‘Ah, you like that, don’t you, boy?’
Darwin nodded with much enthusiasm.
‘Then hop up onto the driver’s seat and steer us towards the palace.’
Cameron Bell returned to his seat, ordered brandy and a cigar and pondered upon his lot. With Lady Raygun on his side, the odds were more favourable when it came to dealing with Lavinia Dharkstorrm. Clearly Miss Violet Wond had some score to settle with her. Mr Bell might well have pondered upon what a fortuitous coincidence this was, but he felt it inappropriate to do so and thus put it down to a case of ‘it’s a small world’ and let it lie. But there was still the matter of where Miss Dharkstorrm lurked. There was no doubt in Cameron’s mind that the fall of frogs was the second of the End Times plagues, which meant that matters were now growing ever more urgent. The countdown to the Apocalypse had begun, and if not brought to an early halt, it would culminate at the final midnight of the year.
Which was, frankly, no w
ay to celebrate the dawn of a new century.
Mr Bell tasted brandy and sucked upon his cigar. Things had gone well for him last night. His scheme, although perhaps over-elaborate, had borne fruit and Lady Raygun was now his ally, whether she cared for him or not. Surely in the light of this success he could come up with some other cunning plan designed to ensnare Lavinia Dharkstorrm.
At which point a thought entered the head of Cameron Bell. And as before this thought expanded almost instantaneously into a supposition and thence to a proposition, which encompassed a plan of campaign and brought much joy to Mr Cameron Bell.
‘I think I can arrange the very thing,’ said he.
And Mr Bell smiled. ‘I really love it when a plan comes together,’[19] he said.
‘Please come together and follow me.’ A gentleman in a most wonderful costume, all braids and tassels and toggles and woggles, with patent-leather thigh-boots and hat with a high cockade, bowed before Lord Brentford, his monkey butler and the intriguing Venusian ecclesiastic. ‘Her Majesty awaits you in the throne—room.’
‘And the package has arrived?’ Lord Brentford enquired.
‘An hour ago,’ said the gentleman, affecting a curious high-kneed gait as he walked. ‘Her Majesty is eager for it to be opened.’
Darwin looked up at Lord Brentford and then all around and about.
They walked through the Blue Gallery, the work of the famous architect Albenoni Dalbatto. The walls were bedecked with turquoise and silver wrought into the most amazing tableaux. Here were scenes of ancient myth. Aboreus defeating the Great Land Snail of Epecus. The storming of Krestica by the Papalations. Feletious declaring his love to the Queen of the Meminites. Even Laneaus of Cronica proving his manhood to the ten thousand sirens of Urethra.