The Infernal Device & Others: A Professor Moriarty Omnibus (39 page)

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The special pulled into a siding in the Portsmouth yard shortly after two in the morning, and the group separated to get what sleep they could.

             
Barnett would have been willing to swear that it was no more than a few minutes after he lay his head on the small pillow that a fully dressed Moriarty was poking him awake. Barnett groaned and sat up. "What time is it?" he asked.

             
"Ten past six," Moriarty told him. "I've let you sleep late."

             
"I don't know how to thank you," Barnett said.

             
"Get dressed as quickly as you can," Moriarty instructed him. "Holmes and I have been studying a map of Portsmouth. We've decided to make the Royal Standard public house our base of operations, and it's a two-mile walk."

             
"Any particular reason why the Royal Standard?" Barnett asked.

             
"Yes. Two. It's fairly centrally located along the docks, and the guidebook says it sets a fine breakfast table."

             
"I'll be right with you," Barnett said.

             
After a brisk walk to the Royal Standard, they consumed a hasty breakfast, selecting from a buffet table that groaned with solid English fare.

             
"Now we begin," Moriarty said. "Two south toward the Battery and two north toward Whale Island, and we somehow contrive to inspect everything that touches the water or floats on it that is large enough to conceal a Garrett-Harris submersible."

             
"The Navy may object to our poking around some of their docks," Barnett said.

             
"Well, we'll have to assume that they object just as strongly to Trepoff concealing his submersible there," Moriarty said.

             
"We must notify the authorities," Holmes said.

             
"I doubt if you will be able to convince them of anything," Moriarty said. "But feel free. I shall come with you if you like. It will be interesting to hear you accusing someone other than me of unspeakable misdeeds and evil acts."

             
Holmes stood up. "Very well, then," he said. "Come along. There is a police station three blocks from here."

             
Moriarty nodded. "Barnett," he said, "why don't you and Dr. Watson walk south along the harbor and see if you can determine anything of interest. After we speak to the authorities, Holmes and I will proceed north."

             
"Very good," Barnett said.

             
"We shall meet back here in, let us say, four hours to compare notes. And by the way, Barnett, do not try to be a hero all by yourself this time. If you find the craft, don't attempt to do anything whatsoever on your own. Come back here for reinforcements. If it makes you feel any better about it, we shall do the same."

             
"Okay," Barnett said.

             
Watson looked to Holmes for instructions and Holmes nodded. Watson beamed. "We'll find the little sinker for you if it's there, eh what?" he said, looking very pleased with himself. With that, he clapped his bowler on his head and left with Barnett.

             
Holmes and Moriarty walked to the police station, and Holmes strode up the stairs and through the oak door. "Good morning, Sergeant," he boomed at the blue-coated man behind the desk. "Who is in charge here today?" Moriarty stood quietly by the door.

             
"Good morning, sir," the sergeant said. "That would be Inspector Peebles, sir."

             
"And may I speak with him?"

             
"May I inquire as to the nature of your business, sir?"

             
"My name is Sherlock Holmes, Sergeant," Holmes said. He waited a second for a reaction, and when he got none, he continued, "I have some information which will be of interest to Inspector Peebles."

             
"Yes, sir. Might I inquire as to the nature of that information?"

             
Holmes sighed. "I really don't want to go through it twice," he said. "Time is limited. It concerns a plot against the life of Her Majesty the Queen!"

             
"Yes, sir," the sergeant said. "Another plot against the life of the Queen. Very good of you to come in and warn us about it. I can assure you, sir, that proper precautions are being taken."

             
Holmes rapped his stick against the desk. "This is not a joke, Sergeant!" he said. "I insist upon speaking to the inspector."

             
The sergeant sighed. "Yes, sir," he said. "If you will excuse me for a second sir, I'll tell him he's wanted." The sergeant left his desk and disappeared into the back.

             
Holmes looked over to Moriarty and saw that he was silently laughing. "This is not amusing!" he rasped.

             
"No," Moriarty agreed. "Of course it isn't."

             
Inspector Peebles, a plump, smiling man, entered the room with the sergeant. "Now, now," he said, chuckling happily, "what's all this?"

             
"My name is Sherlock Holmes, Inspector," Holmes said, "and I have information regarding an attempt that is going to be made against the life of Queen Victoria."

             
"Now, that's very serious," the inspector said, still smiling. "Just how is this attempt going to be made?"

             
"By submersible boat."

             
"By what, sir? What was that?" A puzzled look replaced the smile.

             
"By submersible boat. Submarine. We have reason to believe that a foreign agent has smuggled a submersible boat into the harbor and is planning to blow up the
Victoria and Albert."

             
"Now, now, that's quite serious, sir," the inspector said ponderously. "Just where is this submersible located now, sir?"

             
"I don't know," Holmes said.

             
"I see, sir," the inspector said. He turned to Moriarty. "Is this gentleman with you?"

             
"That's right, Inspector," Moriarty admitted.

             
"Well, why don't you and your friend just go out and find this submersible for us. As soon as you have found it, you be sure to come back here and tell us where it is." The inspector's smile returned. "Then we'll take care of it for you."

             
"Yes, Inspector, we'll certainly do that. Thank you, Inspector. Come along now, Holmes."

-

             
They left the station together, Moriarty silent and Holmes fuming. "They didn't believe me," he said, the line of his jaw rigid with fury. "They treated me as though I were mad!"

             
"Well, it is a rather incredible story," Moriarty said. "I'm sure that if Lestrade were here you could convince him, however. You seem to be able to convince him of anything."

             
"We've got to find that boat by ourselves," Holmes said.

             
"Yes," Moriarty agreed. "And I think we'd best be about it."

             
They proceeded north along the waterfront, poking into and exploring every wharf and jetty they passed. Gradually, Holmes regained his good humor as he became intrigued with the problems of the search. Moriarty stopped in fascination at a clearing by the Naval Barracks where two great balloons were slowly puffing up on the ground. They were being filled with hydrogen gas, generated by a complex self-contained apparatus resting in two wagons by the side of the field. Canvas pipes, treated with gutta-percha, connected the generator with the balloons.

             
"What's happening here?" Moriarty demanded of a frock-coated man who was directing the operation.

             
The man turned to him and took off his stiff top hat. "Balloons, sir," he said. "Observation balloons."

             
"I can see that," Moriarty said. "I have some small knowledge of aerostatics myself. My name is Professor James Moriarty and this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

             
"I am Hyman Miro," the man announced. "Scientist and inventor and developer of the Miro-graphy system of wet-plate photography."

             
"Ah, yes," Moriarty said. "I am somewhat familiar with the system. It employs a reversal process using a collodion plate and the bromide of silver. The developer, if I remember correctly, is largely pyrogallic acid."

             
Miro beamed. "That is correct, sir. Pyrogallic acid and ammonium carbonate, with potassium bromide. You have employed my system?"

             
"Yes, sir," Moriarty said. "The photography of celestial bodies requires rapid, fine emulsions. Yours is quite adequate."

             
"We, ah, have business, Moriarty," Holmes said, tapping his foot.

             
"Patience, Holmes," Moriarty said. "Meeting Mr. Miro may prove very useful. You are," he asked Miro, "planning to use these balloons as tethered observation platforms for the purposes of photography?"

             
"I am," Miro said. "If the weather remains fine, I should be able to expose my plates for no more than the tenth part of a second and still get a complete image. I will be able to stop the motion of the ships on the water, sir. A wonderful thing."

             
"And you are going to be up in them all day?"

             
"Up and down, sir. Up and down. The wet plates must be developed within minutes of being exposed or they lose detail. The darkroom will be erected between the two balloons, which will be lowered and raised on command by a powerful winch."

             
"Very clever, sir," Moriarty said.

             
"Until six o'clock, sir," Miro said.

             
"Ah?" Moriarty said.

             
"Yes. The P.L.R.F.C. is taking over the balloons at six to prepare for their fireworks display. Can you imagine, sir, fireworks from a hydrogen balloon? It's the height of idiocy!"

             
"The P.L ..." Holmes said.

             
"Yes, sir. The P.L.R.F.C. The Portsmouth Library and Recreation Fund Committee. They are in charge of the evening's festivities. Fireworks!"

             
"Really, Moriarty," Holmes said.

             
Moriarty raised his hand. "Mr. Miro," he said. "I am about to entrust you with a grave responsibility.
"

             
"
Sir?" Miro said.

             
"We have reason to believe that an attempt is going to be made to blow up the
Victoria and Albert.
"

             
"
The Royal Yacht?"