Newbury was unsure whether Chapman had even realised that he had been followed this far; he appeared to have an almost casual, nonchalant air about him. Newbury hoped that it would be this that would prove to be his undoing, allowing the Crown investigator to gain the element of surprise.
Not hesitating for a moment longer, Newbury got to his feet and charged after the other man. He scrambled up the wooden steps and flung the door to the gondola open. He hopped across, just as the vessel banked awkwardly to the left and the ground seemed to give way beneath him. With the door still open behind him, Newbury managed to steady himself by catching hold of a sideboard that had been anchored to the deck just inside the foyer of the vessel. He found his footing as the airship righted itself once again. Chapman was nowhere to be seen. Newbury brushed water away from his eyes. The vessel began to drift away from its berth, rocking slowly back and forth in the harsh wind. Newbury turned to close the door. There was a shout from the rooftop. Catching hold of the doorframe, Newbury peered out.
Veronica was standing at the top of the wooden steps, her hair whipping around her face in the wild gusts, her dress soaked through and clinging to her body, revealing the outline of her figure through the layers of fine fabric. She had obviously followed Newbury up the ladder, and he'd been so engrossed in chasing after Chapman that he hadn't even noticed she had joined the pursuit. He cursed himself.
He leaned out of the gondola as far as he dare. "Veronica! Get yourself to safety. I'll take care of Chapman."
She cupped her hands to her face and shouted something in return, but he couldn't make it out over the howl of the wind and the rain. He watched as she readied herself for a jump.
"No! It's too risky!" He banged his fist against the doorframe in frustration. Veronica shook her head, either to indicate that she hadn't heard him or that she was choosing to ignore his words of warning. She coiled herself into a spring, leaping forward towards the open doorway of the gondola, flinging her arms out in an effort to catch hold of the vessel as it pitched and groaned in the wind. She slammed into the gondola, her hands questing frantically for purchase, one of them catching hold of the threshold at the base of the door, the other slipping dangerously free of the wet doorframe. She hung there by the tips of her fingers, buffeted by the wind as she tried desperately not to fall.
Newbury acted immediately. He threw himself to the floor, reaching out to take hold of her free arm and bracing his legs against the furniture so that he wouldn't slide forward if the vessel pitched again. His fingers cut into the soft flesh of her forearm, but it was all he could do to hang on. He could feel her wet arm slipping as he tried to get a better hold.
Beneath them, the vessel swung around haphazardly at the mercy of the driving wind while Chapman worked on starting the engines and getting the ship under some semblance of control. Newbury stared down at Veronica as the vessel edged out over the river, leaving the relative safety of the factory roof behind them. Veronica kicked frantically as she realised the drop beneath her was now more than a hundred feet. The water below looked like shimmering glass.
"Hold still! I'll try to pull you in."
Newbury heaved with all of his might, feeling more of the stitches along his abdomen tearing open as he took all of Veronica's weight, pulling her up into the gondola by her left arm. His face was a grimace of pain. Rain thrashed over his back as it blew in through the open door, causing them both to splutter and spattering the interior of the foyer with water. Newbury felt Veronica's arm slip in his fingers. She screamed as she slid back an inch or more, before Newbury managed to tighten his grip on her wet arm.
"Use your other hand to lever yourself up!"
Veronica clawed at the threshold of the doorway as she tried to pull herself up, helping Newbury to gain leverage. Suddenly, the airship bucked wildly as the engines kicked in with a high-pitched whine, and Veronica swung out as the vessel banked, causing her to lose her grip on the threshold and leaving her clinging to nothing but Newbury's arm. Newbury cried out as she pulled heavily on his damaged shoulder, trying to prevent herself from falling to her death. Then, just as suddenly, the airship banked about in the other direction and Veronica swung closer again, her body smacking loudly against the side of the gondola. Newbury took the opportunity to get her inside as quickly as possible.
"Use your feet to gain purchase. Come on!"
He hauled her bodily through the hatch, sliding her onto the foyer floor beside him. Then, before the vessel began to list again, he clambered to his knees and pulled the door shut behind her. The rain drummed noisily against the wooden panels.
Newbury slumped against the sideboard behind him, drawing ragged breaths. He looked down at Veronica. She lay still on her stomach, dripping with rainwater, her hair plastered across her face. Her left arm was bruised from where Newbury had held on to her and her dress was torn, exposing a large expanse of her milky white thigh. Newbury looked away.
"Are you hurt?" He glanced along the passageway as he talked, nervous that Chapman may happen upon them at any moment.
Veronica's voice was a soft, quiet murmur. "No. Not hurt."
Newbury sighed. "Thank goodness for that." He shook his head. "That was a rare situation you put yourself in, Miss Hobbes. I-"
"I'm sorry." She pushed herself up from the floor, getting herself into a sitting position, her legs tucked away underneath her. "You needn't go on. But now's not the time to discuss it."
He turned to meet her gaze. "You're right. I'll get after Chapman." He climbed to his feet. "You stay here."
Veronica nodded. She was still gasping for breath. "I won't move a muscle."
Newbury turned without saying another word and set off down the passageway, towards the cockpit, Chapman, and-he hoped-the end of the affair.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The door to the cockpit was shut when Newbury finally made his way along the passageway to confront Chapman. The engines hummed noisily and the vessel had righted itself, even though it still shuddered disconcertingly with the to-and-fro of the wind. Now it was climbing in altitude, rising high above the factory and the city below.
Newbury was near exhaustion and anxious to get Chapman into custody. He knew the man had lost his firearm back at the factory, and suspected that he would not have hidden a replacement aboard a brand new airship, a vessel that could have only been completed by his factory a handful of days before this, its maiden voyage. Nevertheless, it was a gamble. Newbury knew that he was far from his physical peak, and whilst Chapman was a dilettante and a fop, he was also unscrupulous and cunning. Newbury only hoped that he still had surprise on his side. Readying himself, he reached out, took the door handle and gave it a sharp twist. He stepped back and allowed the door to swing open towards him. It clattered against the wall of the passage.
Chapman sat at the controls inside the small cockpit, his hands dancing over the vast array of levers, buttons and cranks that adorned the panels before him. Above, dials were set into a polished wooden dashboard, showing altitude, speed and fuel levels. Beyond that was the viewing port; a series of large, reinforced glass windows that offered a vast panoramic view of the city below, a kind of surreal birds-eye perspective of the landscape that Newbury had never been granted before. The Thames wound away into the distance, whilst nearby the factories and industrial buildings of Battersea pumped ribbons of steam into the air. Further afield, the City of Westminster was like a jewel amongst the rows of closely-built houses; proud buildings and public parks, museums and parliament. The city glittered in all its majesty, whilst all the while, the storm clouds formed a dark, brooding vault across the sky.