you are a British subject. If you have invented such a weapon, you should have presented it to me, through official channels, and let me be the judge of when and where to test it. Why did you not?”
Kavanagh wasn’t listening. He’d noticed Lord Eastbourne. Anger and hatred enflamed his bloodshot eyes. “We had a deal,” he said, lurching to his feet and pointing at Lord Eastbourne. Lord Eastbourne recoiled as if from a leper’s touch. “You agreed to help me build my weapon, but then you changed your mind. You called me a fraud. You cut me off.”
Slade said, “Perhaps Lord Eastbourne could answer Your Majesty’s questions.”
41
“Do you know Dr. Kavanagh?” the Queen asked Lord Eastbourne in surprise. “Is what he says true?”
“Your Majesty, I’ve never seen this man before,” Lord Eastbourne said calmly. “He’s lying.”
“You forbade me to tell anyone about our arrangement. You said that if I did, no one would believe me.” Kavanagh fixed an accusing stare on Lord Eastbourne. “You burned down my laboratory.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea what he’s talking about.” Lord Eastbourne’s face was a placid, urbane mask. “Pay him no attention, Your Majesty.”
I found my voice. “Lord Eastbourne did burn down the laboratory. Mr. Slade and I were there.” I moved out of George Smith’s embrace, to stand beside Slade. “We saw him.”
Slade nodded. “We were almost killed.”
Surprise jarred the mask of innocence off Lord Eastbourne’s face. As he turned to Slade and me, his lips pursed; then his features tightened with vexation. I knew what he was thinking: he hadn’t known we were at the laboratory; he’d believed there had been no witnesses to his act of arson; and he heartily wished we had died.
“Miss Bronte is lying, too, Your Majesty,” Lord Eastbourne said. “She’s a murderess, and a fugitive. And Mr. Slade, well, Mr. Slade is a traitor.” His voice was unnaturally thin. “Don’t believe them. They’re trying to… to incriminate me to save their own skins.”
Neither the Queen nor the Prince was fooled. They regarded Lord Eastbourne with hurt, reproachful expressions. She clasped a hand to her chest as though his betrayal of her trust had pierced her heart and said, “Why?”
Lord Eastbourne seemed to realize that there was no use denying what he’d done, but he hurried to provide an explanation that put him in a good light. “I didn’t tell you about Dr. Kavanagh because I wasn’t sure that he could really deliver what he promised, a weapon with destructive powers such as the world has never known. But I felt duty-bound to investigate his claim, in case it had validity. I entered into a private arrangement with Dr. Kavanagh because I didn’t want to bother Your Majesty about a project that might come to nothing. I paid for his research myself, in order to spare your treasury the expense. As it turned out, my misgivings about Dr. Kavanagh were justified. He is a fraud.”
The Queen shook her head. Lord Eastbourne couldn’t hide his fear now, but he blustered on. “The laboratory was in a building that I had purchased. Dr. Kavanagh had left it in such bad condition that it was beyond repair. I was within my rights to burn it down. I didn’t know that Mr. Slade and Miss Bronte were there.”
“That’s not why you burned it down,” Niall Kavanagh said. “You wanted to get rid of anything that could connect me with you. You wanted to destroy me and my work. But here I am.” He bowed to the Queen, wobbled, and righted himself. “Your Majesty, I have the weapon here.”
He fumbled with the latches on the suitcase. He opened it and lifted out the bomb. It had appeared more impressive in the dungeon than it did here, surrounded by splendid inventions. Queen Victoria, Prince Albert, Lord Eastbourne, and Stieber gazed dubiously at the glass jars strapped to the canister of gunpowder, the limp fuse. “That is the weapon?” Stieber said.
“See, Your Majesty?” Lord Eastbourne said, jubilant. “It’s not a new miraculous weapon of war. It’s an ordinary bomb that an idiot could build. This fellow is clearly mad.”
“Please don’t let appearances deceive you, Your Majesty,” I found the courage to say. “The bomb isn’t the innovation. The innovation is the powder in the jars.”
Slade quickly and concisely explained that Dr. Kavanagh had discovered that animalcules caused disease and had learned how to cultivate them. “Those jars contain enough culture to infect thousands of people with woolsorter’s disease, which is fatal. The bomb is only the mechanism of spreading the culture through the air.”
“It will work,” Dr. Kavanagh insisted eagerly.
“Bosh and nonsense,” Lord Eastbourne said. “Everyone knows that diseases are caused by bad air. Whom are you going to believe, Your Majesty? A madman, a murderess and traitor, or me? I have served the Crown long and faithfully. My record is unimpeachable.”
“Not anymore,” Slade said. “You blotted it when you succumbed to your ambitions. You didn’t keep Kavanagh and his research under wraps for Her Majesty’s sake. Rather, you wanted the weapon for yourself. You wanted the power that it would give the man who owned it. You wanted a place in history as much as Dr. Kavanagh does, at the price of your loyalty to your sovereign. You’re the traitor, not I.”
With a visible effort Lord Eastbourne ignored Slade. “I advise you to judge for yourself, Your Majesty.” He flung his hand toward the bomb in a gesture of disdain. “Is this a weapon that will revolutionize warfare, or a joke?”
“It’s not a joke!” Kavanagh wailed.
The Queen looked uncertain, although she liked Slade and I saw her incline toward taking him at his word. Slade said, “Let’s try a test. Dr. Kavanagh, open one of those jars. Lord Eastbourne, you breathe the culture and show Her Majesty that it’s harmless.”
Lord Eastbourne took a step backward, his expression filling with alarm.
“Just as I thought,” Slade said. “He’s afraid to take the test. He knows Dr. Kavanagh has succeeded in creating the weapon he paid for. He reneged on their contract because he realized that the weapon is too powerful for him to control, too dangerous to use. And he had another reason for burning down the laboratory besides covering up his involvement: he knew it was rife with disease.”
“That is proof enough for me,” the Queen said. Indeed, it was obvious from Lord Eastbourne’s face that everything Slade had said was true. “Lord Eastbourne, you have committed such serious breaches of protocol and crimes against the state that it will require a court to determine-”
Lord Eastbourne’s eyes glazed with panic. He’d changed from a suave, confident gentleman into a cornered animal. He shuffled a few quick steps backward, then turned and ran into the receding horde.
“Wait!” called the Queen. “How dare you leave while I’m speaking to you?” She saw four soldiers hurrying to her aid. She ordered them, “Go arrest that man!”
Two of them hurried off; the others remained to guard her. Prince Albert said, “Don’t worry; he won’t get far.”
“In the meantime, I have business with Dr. Kavanagh,” the Queen said, turning to the scientist. “I am declaring your invention the property of the Crown and the British government. If you would be so good as to hand it over.”
Kavanagh looked startled. “No.” He knelt and flung his arms around the bomb.
“My dear sir, that was an order from the Queen,” Mr. Thackeray said, regaining his eloquence, even though fear blanched his big, florid face.
“You have to obey,” George Smith said. He, too, was pale and shaken. I saw him glance from me to Slade, trying to discern our relationship.
“I won’t,” Kavanagh said.
“Take it,” the Queen told the two soldiers.
They started forward. Stieber pointed his gun at them and said, “I claim the weapon in the name of Russia,” then started toward Kavanagh. “Put it in the suitcase and give it to me.”
“Don’t move!” the soldiers ordered, aiming their rifles at Stieber.
He froze. Kavanagh took a loose jar of culture from the suitcase and cried, “Nobody come near me, or I’ll drop this.” Everyone stood still, terrified. “There’s no use fighting over my invention.” Kavanagh gloated because two such powerful heads of state wanted it. “I’m not giving it away to anyone. I’m going to stage my
