seen again." He paused. "Until now, that is. I pieced the story together from various newspaper reports."
Bainbridge shrugged. "It was probably the other boys from the station, using the story as a cover to take revenge for the murder. They don't take kindly to one of their own being put in the soil."
It was Newbury's turn to nod. "That may well be the case, but until we know more I think we need to follow this line of inquiry. It may turn out to be nothing but poppycock, but we shouldn't dismiss it until we've had the opportunity to investigate a little further first."
"Very well." Bainbridge covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he coughed. "Come on, let's get out of this cold."
Newbury sauntered along beside him. "Would you care to join me for a nightcap at the White Friar's? They have a shockingly good brandy."
Bainbridge was about to reply when a sudden, powerful gust of wind knocked them both back a step, and the older man found himself clinging to his hat to ensure it wasn't lost in the draught. He looked up. "Damn airships! I wish they wouldn't fly them so low over the city."
Newbury laughed, following his gaze. The underbelly of an immense vessel was scudding overhead, scintillating in the reflected light of the city and temporarily blotting out the moon, casting the two men in a dark shadow. The airship companies had been enjoying a period of rapid growth in recent months, with demand for air travel almost exceeding their capacity to build new vessels and clear space for berthing fields. The appearance of a sizeable ship such as this was becoming a frequent occurrence in the skies over London, as the Empire grew larger and an increasing number of people found profitable business abroad. With the haulage companies taking to the skies, too, there was no longer any need to relocate to foreign climes on a permanent basis, and many businessmen had taken the opportunity to set up subsidiary companies in India, America and the West Indies. Newbury himself had never travelled on one of the vessels, but he was certainly enamoured with them, and watched in wonder as this one drifted lazily overhead, en route, he supposed, to a berthing field south of the city. He glanced back at Bainbridge, who had finally finished repositioning his hat. "Well? To the White Friar's?"
Bainbridge shook his head. "Not tonight, old friend. You've given me much to think about, and I must say that that pudding of Miss Johnson's is sitting rather heavily on me now. Don't have quite the constitution I used to."
Newbury smiled. "You'll hear no argument from me." He held out his hand and the other man grasped it firmly. "Let me know if there are any further developments in the case. In the meantime, I bid you well and good night." He turned and made off in the direction of the White Friar's Club, gazing up at the sky in wonder at the vapour trails left in the wake of the passing airship.
Chapter Two
Newbury leaned back in his chair and, with a sigh, spread his morning copy of The Times out before him on the desk. After retiring from the White Friar's Club the previous evening he'd found he was unable to sleep. Nonetheless, with the coming of the dawn he had risen, dressed and caught a cab across the city from his Chelsea lodgings to his office at the British Museum. He had little doubt that his housekeeper, Mrs. Bradshaw, would curse him colourfully in her delightful Scottish tones for failing—yet again—to inform her of his plans, but he also knew that she was growing used to his unpredictable comings-and-goings, even if she feigned exasperation to his face.
Outside, the sun was settling over the city and the streets were gradually coming to life as people set about their daily business. Soon the museum would be bustling with his fellow academics and, not long after, with members of the public, come to gaze in awe and wonder at the treasures on display in the gaudy exhibits. Newbury had been an agent of the Queen for nearly four years, and whilst he was typically engaged in some case or other—whether helping Scotland Yard or left to his own devices—he continued to maintain a position at the museum all the same. He was an experienced anthropologist, with a particular speciality in the religion and supernatural practices of prehistoric human cultures, and he