The Educated Ape and Other Wonders of the Worlds

  ‘Aboard a spaceship,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘Travelling first class. Only first—class passengers are being allowed to leave the planet Mars at present.’

  There had been some unpleasantness at what was left of the Martian spaceport. It had all become rather complicated and Mr Bell was in quite a hurry to return to Earth.

  ‘First class,’ said Darwin, and then, ‘I am free!’ he cried in sudden realisation. ‘You saved my life, my friend — my thanks to you.’

  Mr Bell smiled and put his finger to his lips. ‘It is probably best if the other first—class travellers do not become aware of your particular gift,’ he whispered.

  ‘Why?’ asked Darwin, glancing all around.

  ‘There was a bit of trouble on Mars,’ said Cameron Bell,‘ something to do with an anarchist uprising. The military are now in control of the planet. We wouldn’t want some nervous passenger overhearing you and taking you for a French spy or something, would we?’

  Darwin gave Mr Bell the queerest of expressions. ‘Did you have anything to do with this?’ he enquired. ‘Did it involve anywhere being blown up or engulfed in flames?’

  Mr Bell made so-so gestures with his free hand. His other hand held a glass of champagne, Darwin noted.

  ‘Is that Château Doveston?’ he asked.

  Mr Bell nodded. ‘And I will give you a glass if you are very quiet.’

  ‘And a very big bunch of bananas?’ said Darwin.

  ‘A very big bunch of bananas,’ said Cameron Bell.

  It was hotter than ever in London and the Crystal Palace was quite steamed up inside. But as first—class passengers travelled in air-cooled luxury across the cobbled landing strip from spaceship to Terminal One, Mr Bell whistled between sippings of champagne and cared not one jot for the climate.

  Darwin gazed out of a window; it was good to be back. ‘Mr Bell,’ he whispered to the detective. ‘You have not told me anything about what happened upon Mars — why not?’

  Mr Bell whispered in return. ‘All you must know,’ he whispered, ‘is that the wicked witch is dead and that unless something most unexpected occurs, you and I will enjoy many years of happy acquaintanceship together.’

  ‘That is a very odd thing to say,’ whispered Darwin.

  ‘It would all be very complicated to explain. Shall we dine at the Ritz tonight?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Darwin. ‘I’d like that very much.’

  First-class passengers enjoying those privileges accorded to them were soon aboard further luxurious carriages and away towards the metropolis.

  ‘Do you want to be dropped at Syon House?’ asked Mr Bell as the new electric runabout propelled them at speed along the highway.

  ‘No,’ said Darwin. I don’t want to return there on my own for now. Let’s go to our offices. Perhaps someone has sent us a letter inviting us to take on an exciting case.’

  ‘You still wish to carry on in our partnership, considering all that has happened?’

  ‘You do still want me?’ asked Darwin, gazing up at his partner.

  ‘Of course I do,’ said Cameron Bell, and he knew in his heart that he did.

  ‘Our offices, then,’ said Darwin.

  Mr Bell took up the speaking tube and gave the driver the address of Banana and Bell.

  ‘No one here,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘No maid who is spare and kempt. No boy named Jack. I gave them each two months’ salary in advance before I left for Mars and this is how they reward me for my kindness.’

  ‘It smells a bit in here, too,’ said Darwin, wrinkling his nose.

  ‘I have champagne in my office,’ said Cameron Bell.

  ‘How could it be otherwise?’ said Darwin. ‘Let us crack a bottle and raise glasses to the future.’

  ‘Yes, indeed,’ said Mr Cameron Bell.

  Together they entered Mr Bell’s office, then drew as one to a halt.

  Seated behind Mr Bell’s desk, with feet upon its top and flanked by a pair of monstrous henchmen, was Miss Lavinia Dharkstorrm.

  ‘Welcome back to London, boys,’ she said.

  26

  ery pleasant indeed to see you, said Miss Lavinia Dharkstorrm. ‘I assume by the jolliness of your tones that things went well upon Mars.’

  The eyes of Cameron Bell were wide and his mouth hung hugely open.

  ‘That is a most unflattering expression,’ said Miss Dharkstorrm.

  ‘I would almost go so far as to call it “gormless”.

  ‘But how?’ went Mr Bell, when he could find his voice.

  ‘How are you here, when you were on— ‘Mars?’ asked Miss Dharkstorrm.

  ‘But I was never on Mars, Mr Bell. Did you see me on the spaceship when you travelled there?’

  Cameron Bell shook his head.

  ‘But only when you arrived there and met me in the First-Class Saloon.’

  Cameron Bell now nodded his head.

  ‘That was not me,’ said Miss Dharkstorrm. ‘That was my familiar, Pandora — like myself, a most accomplished shape-shifter. Why would I wish to travel to Mars when I could simply wait here for you to return, bringing with you what I seek?’

  Darwin looked up at Cameron Bell. Darwin was an ape most baffled. ‘What of this?’ he asked.

  ‘You do not confide in your little friend, Mr Bell?’ Lavinia Dharkstorrm shook her head and smiled in Darwin’s direction. ‘He carries the holy relic with him,’ she said to the monkey.

  ‘What what what?’ went Darwin. ‘What of this, I ask?’ Cameron Bell sighed deeply and took to shaking his head. ‘You see, Mr Bell,’ said Lavinia Dharkstorrm, ‘I have always been one step ahead of you and always will be because I have second sight. I can view the future as others remember the past. I knew precisely what you would do upon Mars — although I must confess that there are certain dark areas, as if you were assisted in some way by yourself I do not fully understand this, but I viewed your actions as if in a scrying glass. And you destroyed my familiar, Mr Bell, and I do not take kindly at all to that.’

  Mr Bell’s right hand was snaking towards his trouser pocket, wherein rested his ray gun.

  ‘Oh, do,’ said Miss Dharkstorrm. ‘Do pull it out. Let us all have a look at it, please.’

  Mr Bell delved into his pocket, felt something slimy, then pulled out a very large toad and gaped at it.

  ‘Out of your league, Mr Bell.’ Lavinia Dharkstorrm laughed. ‘Now hand the holy relic to me, if you will.’

  ‘You have the relic?’ asked Darwin. ‘You have brought it back from Mars?’

  Cameron nodded gloomily. ‘It was my intention to discharge it into space during the journey home. But there was no way that could be done, so I intended to toss it into the Thames this very evening.’

  ‘He stole it from Princess Pamela,’ said Miss Dharkstorrm.

  ‘He was a trifle miffed when she refused to give him a reward. And greatly afeared when she offered her amorous attentions.’

  ‘Who is Princess Pamela?’ asked Darwin.

  ‘No one you need worry your furry little head about.’ Miss Dharkstorrm turned her alarming eyes once more upon Cameron Bell. ‘Hand me the holy relic,’ said she, ‘or I will have my men take it from your lifeless body.’

  Mr Bell dug into his waistcoat pocket and brought forth something resembling a glass marble, within which strange lights flickered and twisted.

  ‘I cannot let you have it,’ said Mr Bell. ‘Darwin,’ he shouted, ‘take it and run!’ And he flung the sphere to the monkey.

  But it did not reach the monkey’s hands.

  The sphere drew up short in the air, then flashed across the office and into the hands of Miss Dharkstorrm. ‘Thank you very much indeed,’ said she.

  Cameron Bell shook his head in dismay. ‘How could I be such a fool as this?’ he asked.

  ‘How indeed,’ said Miss Dharkstorrm. ‘But I will let you make amends. I will not kill you, Mr Bell, for that would be a waste, but I cannot have you pursuing me and getting in my way — I have far too many important things t
o do. So I will tell you what. I have already dealt with your maid and your servant-boy in a certain way and I will deal in this way too with you and your monkey. I have a drug, Mr Bell, a combination of coup de poudre and mandrake known as Zombie Dust, which will erase your memories and put you into a deathlike trance. I will have you, your monkey and servants boxed up to be sold as slaves to the gentry. You will never again know who you truly are. But you will serve your new master without question.’

  Darwin bared his teeth at this and prepared to put up a struggle.

  Cameron Bell raised high his fists and prepared for a struggle of his own.

  1899

  Once more in the present day,

  in the house of Ernest Rutherford.

  Following on from Chapter 5,

  when Mr Bell’s memories of the previous

  year were returned to him …

  27

  et me refresh your champagne glasses,’ said Mr Ernest Rutherford. ‘That certainly was a very big adventure.’

  Cameron Bell rose to his feet and stared into a mirror. ‘I am bearded,’ he said. ‘I have never grown a beard in my life. Although it does rather suit me.

  ‘No, it does not,’ said Darwin, accepting a top—up to his glass. ‘But does this really mean that we have been lying unconscious in boxes for almost a year?’

  ‘I am afraid it does,’ said the chemist, administering champagne. ‘And you probably would still be doing so now had Lord Brentford not returned from the dead, as it were, and ordered one chef, one monkey butler, one maid both spare and kempt and a boy named Jack to polish boots and suchlike.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Darwin. ‘Lord Brentford.’

  ‘I recall you saying how you missed his lordship.’ Cameron Bell toasted further champagne. ‘You should be pleased that he is back in Syon House.’

  ‘Pleased?’ said Darwin. ‘You jest,’ said Darwin. ‘Syon House was my house until he returned,’ said Darwin.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ said the detective. ‘I see how that might be a problem.’ And then he had a bit of a think and said, ‘Oh my dear dead mother, I am homeless, too.’

  ‘You did not live at Syon House,’ said Darwin.

  ‘I lived at our offices,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘The salubrious and expensive-to-maintain offices of Banana and Bell. The offices for which rent has not been paid for a year.

  ‘Oh your dear dead mother indeed,’ said Darwin. And then he too had a bit of a think. ‘Could I just get something straight,‘ he asked, ‘so that everything is made clear?’

  Cameron Bell did shruggings of the shoulders while he sipped champagne.

  ‘Well,’ said Darwin, ‘all the foregoing that Mr Bell has just recalled, all the foregoing that brings us up to this present day …

  Cameron Bell and Ernest Rutherford nodded.

  ‘Well, it pretty much covered everything,’ said Darwin, ‘including things that happened to other people when Mr Bell and I were elsewhere.’

  Cameron Bell and Mr Rutherford glanced somewhat at each other.

  ‘Well,’ said Darwin, ‘should I be aware of all those things, too? Even the things that occurred when I was unconscious, drugged by Lavinia Dharkstorrm, on Mars when Mr Bell blew up the spaceport and so on?’

  Cameron Bell and Mr Rutherford took to shaking their heads. ‘Let us assume you should not,’ they agreed.

  ‘Good,’ said Darwin. ‘Because otherwise I think I would become very confused indeed, what with Mr Bell being helped out by another Mr Bell from the future — I might start to wonder how they both got together to release me. You see, I can think of a number of reasons why that would not work—’

  ‘More champagne?’ asked Cameron Bell. ‘Mr Rutherford, please give my partner another glass of champagne.’

  ‘I’m still drinking this one,’ said Darwin. ‘And further-more— ‘Let us assume,’ said Mr Bell, ‘that you know absolutely nothing whatever about anything that happened when you were not there to see it happen.’

  ‘That is a great weight off my mind,’ said Darwin.

  ‘But not mine,’ said Mr Bell, who could find numerous things with which to find fault regarding his dealings on Mars with his future self.

  ‘Well, all is almost well that ends well.’ Mr Rutherford upended a champagne bottle. ‘And that, I regret, is the last of my stock,’ said he, ‘so that ends well as well.’

  Mr Cameron Bell said, ‘Then I think we must be going.’

  ‘Going where?’ asked Darwin. ‘We are homeless and office-less. Do you have any money?’

  Mr Bell now patted at himself ‘My pockets are all but bare,’ said he. ‘I have but a guinea or two at most.’

  ‘What do you have in the bank?’ asked Darwin. ‘Nothing,’ said the downcast detective. ‘And you?’ ‘Not a penny to call my own,’ said the monkey. ‘Bananaries are most expensive to build.’ And then he thought about the destruction that had been wrought upon his Bananary and this thought made him tearful. ‘And Lord Brentford shot me dead,’ said Darwin.

  ‘Come now, my little friend.’ Mr Bell did kindly pattings on the monkey’s shoulder. ‘There must be some way that the two of us can turn some coin and get ourselves back on our feet.’

  ‘I have it,’ said Mr Rutherford. ‘I am working very hard at present to complete my time-ship. The one that I know will work because the two of you have (or will have) travelled upon it.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Mr Bell. ‘You would like us to work on the project with you.’

  ‘In a manner of speaking,’ said Mr Rutherford. ‘You see, the work can sometimes be very tedious and it would be wonderful to lighten it in some fashion.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Mr Bell.

  ‘Well,’ said Ernest Rutherford, ‘the solution is obvious. The two of you could acquire a barrel organ and play outside my window.’

  ‘Now that was uncalled for,’ said Mr Bell as he and Darwin strolled along the Strand. ‘Attacking poor Mr Rutherford like that. Pulling his ears in such a frightful fashion.’

  ‘It was not uncalled for,’ said Darwin, sniffing away at the London air and finding the sniffing pleasant. ‘And it made you laugh, so do not pretend otherwise.’

  Cameron Bell did sighings and scratched at his beard. ‘I suppose I should shave this off,’ said he. ‘I look more like a sailor than my usual handsome self’

  Darwin raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘I expect that was the point,’ he said. ‘That Lavinia Dharkstorrm thinks of everything. Without the beard, friends of Lord Brentford for whom you had solved cases in the past would have recognised you, even dressed like a chef as you are.

  It was a fine hot summer’s day but thoughts of the evil witch made Cameron shiver. ‘I have sufficient money for us to dine in a chop-house,’ he said. ‘Dressed as I am, the Ritz is out, I regret.’

  ‘You could apply for a job as a chef,’ said Darwin.

  Cameron Bell hunched his shoulders as he and the ape strolled on.

  They dined in a chop-house down on the Charing Cross Road. They sat by a window and gazed at London beyond. Costermongers hauled carts that were burdened with bread and beef and biscuits while newsboys recommended the midday editions in loud and piping voices. Electric cars purred unheard amidst the clatter of horses’ hooves as hansoms, drays, pantechnicons and landaus moved this way and that in steady streams. Overhead, one of the new electric flyers drifted steadily, a sleek platform with wealthy patrons leaning over the guard-rails sipping cocktails and smoking blue cigarettes.

  Mr Bell drained the last of a pint of porter. ‘This is the end, my only friend,’ said he of a sudden.

  Darwin, dining on roasted potatoes, looked up at Cameron Bell.

  ‘I regret,’ said the detective, ‘that it is time for us to dissolve our partnership.’

  ‘You don’t want me any more?’ said Darwin.

  ‘It is not that I do not want you. It is simply that I do not wish you to come to any more harm. You might well have died upon Mars and it would have been all my fault.’

/>   ‘But you rescued me. I am well.’ Darwin made the jolliest of faces and waved his little hands about with vigour.

  ‘It is the end,’ said Cameron, shaking his head. ‘There is no more Banana and Bell. In fact, there is no more Cameron Bell, the world’s greatest consulting detective. I failed, Darwin. Lavinia Dharkstorrm won.’

  ‘Technically, perhaps,’ said Darwin, ‘but you cannot give up your calling. You are the world’s greatest detective and the Case of the Stolen Reliquary has yet to be brought to a successful conclusion.’

  ‘I am tired,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘and I will not put you in any more danger.’

  ‘I thrive upon danger,’ said Darwin. ‘I am an ape of courageous disposition.’

  ‘My mind is made up,’ said Mr Bell.

  ‘But what about me?’

  ‘Remember,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘you are unique — the world’s one and only speaking monkey. Find a manager and exhibit yourself at the Egyptian Hall and you will soon be wealthy once more.’

  ‘Would you manage me?’ asked Darwin.

  ‘No,’ said Cameron Bell, ‘because for one thing I rather like the Egyptian Hall, and I am sure that somehow or other if I managed you there, it would inevitably get blown up or burned down.’

  ‘I am very upset about this,’ said Darwin. ‘I really liked being a detective.’

  ‘No you did not,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘You liked the money but you hated the job. I recall the fuss you made.’

  ‘Yes yes yes,’ said Darwin. ‘But I can change. I will work hard. I have worked hard before and I will work hard again.’

  ‘I will tell you what,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘I will return to my true calling as detective if you agree to return to yours.’

  ‘And what is my true calling?’ asked Darwin.

  ‘You know perfectly well what it is. The job you loved the best.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Darwin, and, taking up his half-pint of porter between his little hands, he drained it to the dregs. ‘Return to Lord Brentford,’ he said and he smiled, ‘and serve as his monkey butler.’