Heart of Gold

'Ah,' Aubrey said. 'Lion-induced injury?'

George shrugged. 'Probably.'

Aubrey studied the curved roofs of the station. 'The blockade won't let them get beyond the city limits.'

Von Stralick snorted. 'These men are professionals. They have a whole city to hide in.'

'I don't aim to search the whole city,' Aubrey said. 'Just the parts where they are.'

Sixteen

AT FIVE O'CLOCK, CAROLINE WAS WAITING FOR THEM in front of Tontine Hall. Music came through the open windows, the piano once more banging out one of Ivey and Wetherall's finest.

Caroline scrutinised them as they drew closer. 'Aubrey. George. I'm glad to see that you're both in one piece.'

George looked down and patted his chest. 'Why wouldn't we be?'

'Whenever I leave you to your own resources, you seem to come back damaged. I was worried about you all afternoon.'

'You were worried about us?' Aubrey raised an eyebrow.

'Concerned. Troubled, in a broad and general way.'

'We had a tough time of it, when's all said and done,' George put in. 'We were attacked by a lion.'

'A lion?'

'We'll tell you later,' Aubrey said. 'What were you saying about being worried about us?'

'Never mind that. Don't you want to know what I've managed to find out today?'

'Of course,' he said. 'Did you find Dr Romellier?'

'I've found where he is, but I doubt if you'll believe me.'

Aubrey had had much experience with the unbelievable. People would never believe what I'm prepared to believe, he thought. 'Where is he?'

'The airfield.'

'What?' George said. 'The military field? St Martin?'

'The same.'

Aubrey rubbed his forehead. 'But what would an ornithologist be doing at a facility for building dirigibles? And why didn't we see him there?'

Caroline looked smug. 'Dr Romellier has been seconded by the Gallian government. With his expertise in wing structures, he's been asked to explore new airship design, living at the base so he can oversee any construction.'

'Would he willingly work for the government on something like this?' Aubrey said. 'It sounds a bit farfetched.'

'He apparently made his participation conditional. He extracted a guarantee from the government to modify an airship with a special observation platform and send it on a bird-spotting expedition in Sahelia.'

'Crafty devil,' George said. 'Sounds a trifle obsessed, though.'

'Birds are all he thinks about, apparently. That's how I managed to find his whereabouts.'

'Birds?' Aubrey said.

'You told me about the pigeon loft on top of Dr Romellier's last known residence. I wondered if the keeper may still be in touch with the good doctor via pigeon post.'

'You spoke to Moir without being abused?' George asked.

'I found him to be a charming man. A little abrupt, but perfectly polite when approached properly.'

Aubrey couldn't help but feel that being a startlingly attractive young woman was a useful advantage in approaching any Gallian. 'He volunteered all this information about Dr Romellier? He said he didn't know where Dr Romellier was.'

'I managed to convince him of my scientific credentials by telling him about my studies on the taxonomy of nudibranchs. He probed me about some niceties of classification and, satisfied, he answered some questions. Guardedly, after telling me his responsibility was to keep busybodies away from Dr Romellier.'

It was George's turn to express disbelief. 'He talked about science? He was just a crazy old man.'

'Professor Moir is the Emeritus Professor of Zoology at the University of Lutetia.'

'I told you there was more to that crazy old man than met the eye,' George said to Aubrey.

'Clever and eccentric,' Aubrey mused. 'I've never heard of that before.'

Caroline favoured him with a mildly scathing look that he quite enjoyed. She went on. 'He told me that he had some pigeons from the airfield and could communicate with Dr Romellier – and vice versa. Dr Romellier is full of suggestions about the care and feeding of the birds. Monsieur Moir ignores these, of course. They seem to have a testy relationship.'

Aubrey considered this titbit. 'Did Professor Moir mention when he had his last communication from Dr Romellier?'

'I managed to prise that piece of information out of him. Really, Aubrey, you seem to think you're the only one with any brains at all.'

'Sorry.' He had a feeling he should get used to using that word with Caroline. 'So Dr Romellier is still at the airfield.'

'As of yesterday. That's when Professor Moir had a message with a recommendation for adding malt to the pigeon's feed if the weather starts to turn cold.'

'Not much chance of that,' George said. 'Sticky sweltering, that's the way the weather's headed.'

'Are Renaissance men experts in Lutetian weather, too?' Aubrey asked.

'Of course,' George said, beaming.

Aubrey hummed a little. It would be a relief to be able to cross Dr Romellier off his list of things to do, and even better if he could do it before his mother arrived. While she was understanding, she also had high expectations.

He rolled his eyes. High expectations. He was surrounded by people with high expectations, including himself. One of his main challenges was finding a way to deal with all these expectations without going mad.

'Thank you,' he said to Caroline. 'You've made more progress in one day than I have in a week. I'm very appreciative.'

Her face coloured, which took Aubrey by surprise. He watched the process with fascination. 'It wasn't that difficult,' she said.

'And the letters? I know it's much to ask, but were you able to find anything regarding them?'

'Oh. The letters. Nothing there, I'm afraid. Not yet.'

Is she flustered? Aubrey thought. I thought that was my role. 'Never mind.'

'The shop was closed, you see, and Monsieur Caron hasn't been seen for days, according to a usefully nosy neighbour. When I told Mother, she tried ringing a few numbers she had, but no-one has seen him since Monday. Mother was worried.'

Monday. That was when Aubrey had visited the document shop. Monsieur Caron had promised to fetch his letters concerning the Treaty of St Anne. A mysterious disappearance, letters concerning Albion and Marchmaine – Aubrey was intrigued and wished he'd pressed Monsieur Caron for the letters. He was sure that the document merchant would have responded quickly if he was offered a good enough price.

No, he ordered himself, knowing that if his curiosity was roused he'd find himself wasting time on this wild goose chase. No. It's not important. We have more vital things to do.

George saw Aubrey's preoccupied expression and took the opportunity to tell Caroline of their escapade with the lion.