The Pimpernel Plot

8

They sat together amidships on board the Day Dream as Captain Briggs piloted the boat across the Channel. They had sailed on the morning tide. It was a clear day and the wind was brisk and cold, sending sheets of sea spray across the deck, the droplets pattering down like grapeshot. Finn held his short clay so that the bowl of the pipe was shielded by his hand from both the wind and spray as he stretched his legs out before him. The crew did not intrude on his and Lucas’s privacy and Tony Dewhurst and Andrew Ffoulkes were both below in their cabins, having no desire to remain on deck in such damp and windy conditions. For Finn and Lucas, it was an ideal opportunity to talk. En route to Dover, Finn had told Lucas all about his meeting with TIA agent Cobra and his talk with Andre the night before.

“So she suspects that something’s wrong,” said Lucas. “That could be a real problem. I knew that you felt something for her, but I thought that maybe it was only sympathy or that she turned you on or perhaps a little of both, but this… You had to go and lose your head over a pretty face. Worse, you let her know it. Hell, Finn, you’re supposed to be a pro. Andre’s a rookie and she’s handled herself better on this mission than you have.”

“You just don’t understand,” said Finn.

“No, I guess I don’t.”

“She’s not just another pretty face, Lucas. I’m telling you, this is the real thing. I know it probably sounds corny, but Andre called it, there was something happening between us from the very start. I’ve just been refusing to admit it to myself. Hell, I’m not some lovestruck kid, I’m old enough to be your grandfather and then some, but I’m telling you, I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before. It’s a revelation.”

“It’s pathetic, is what it is,” said Lucas, dryly. “The problem is, what are you going to do about it? What can you do?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Finn said. “Blakeney’s dead. Even when this adjustment is over, when the Scarlet Pimpernel retires, someone is going to have to continue being Percy Blakeney. Forrester said that it might be indefinite, but since I’m already on the spot, why not make it permanent?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Why not?”

“Christ, Finn, I can give you several obvious reasons why not,” said Lucas. “For one thing, you’re in the First Division. Adjustment specialists are just too valuable to waste on temporal relocation. You ought to know that. Besides-”

“They can’t turn me down if I request a transfer,” Finn said. “With my mission record, I’ve got that option.”

“Technically, yes, you do,” said Lucas, “but you’re not thinking, Finn. You must really have it bad, because I can’t believe you’d be so stupid. To begin with, if Fitzroy found out about this, he’d probably put you in for reeducation when this was over, after which you wouldn’t even remember Marguerite, much less the fact that you wanted a transfer, which they wouldn’t give you anyway, at least not to the relocation units. In fact, that might not be a bad idea. It would certainly solve your problem.”

“It wouldn’t help Marguerite very much,” said Finn.

“Oh, I’m glad to see you’ve finally thought of how this would affect her,” Lucas said. “Have you thought of what would happen when you clock back to Plus Time and someone from the relocation units gets sent back to substitute for Percy Blakeney, someone she’d have to live with for the rest of her life? If the two of you got together, would somebody else be the same? Even if you were allowed to remain here with her, there’s one basic difference between you and someone from the relocation units. You’ve had antiagathic treatments and you’re far too old to have them reversed. She’d age at the normal rate and you wouldn’t. Leaving aside the fact that it would be a little difficult to explain to all your friends, how do you think she’d feel, watching herself grow old while you remained the same? How would you feel?”

Finn nodded. He looked crestfallen. “You’re absolutely right. I’m being a complete idiot. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me.”

Lucas looked at him and smiled, sympathetically. “You’re in love,” he said. “It’s made idiots of better men than you before. I’m sorry, old buddy, I shouldn’t have been so hard on you, but you can’t say I didn’t warn you. I told you it would be really rough on you if you started caring about her, though this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. You know, it’s funny, but in basic training they run down just about every possible hazard you can encounter on the Minus Side, yet I don’t recall anyone ever mentioning the hazard of falling in love with someone who belongs to another time. You’d think they would include that.”

“Maybe they don’t because there’s not much you can do about it,” Finn said.

“Well, there’s certainly nothing we can do about it now,” said Lucas. “Besides, we still have another problem on our hands. What are you going to tell Cobra?”

The corners of Finn’s mouth turned down in a grim frown. “I don’t know. I was going to ask you for suggestions. I know what I wont to tell him, but it’s not for me to decide alone. Besides, you’re the senior officer on this team.”

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “No kidding? God damn, someone record this for posterity, this is a first. Finn Delaney defers to the chain of command!”

“Go to hell.”

“After you, old friend, you’re not sticking me with this one. I’m not going to make any command decisions. I left my oak leaves back in Plus Time.”

“All right, then, at least give me some feedback. What do you think our choices are?”

“The way Cobra laid it out for you,” said Lucas, “it doesn’t sound like we’ve got much in the way of choices. We either play it his way or we don’t. If we do what he wants us to do, it’s hard to say whether we’d be disobeying orders or not. Technically, there’s nothing in our orders that says we have to go after Mongoose. In fact, Fitzroy was pretty specific on that point. Mongoose is Cobra’s responsibility. However, there’s nothing in our orders that says we have to back off and let Mongoose get away if we get a chance to stop him. If we do that, depending on who writes the report and how it’s interpreted, we might be brought up on charges. Fitzroy’s going to be submitting the report and he doesn’t like us, anyway. Now we could go to Fitzroy and report what Cobra told you. If we do, we’ll be forcing someone’s hand and Mongoose, Cobra, or Fitzroy might get killed. Or all three of them might get killed. Or we might get killed. Or someone blows the adjustment. God knows, it could go wrong sixteen different ways.”

“If we don’t tell Fitzroy and he finds out about it,” Finn said, “we’ll probably be court-martialed.”

“There’s that,” said Lucas. “There’s also the fact that Mongoose’s interference has already resulted in several deaths, courtesy of our overly zealous young friend, Jean. Given that those soldiers were killed by someone in their own time, Cobra might be correct in his assessment that temporal inertia will compensate for it. On the other hand, maybe it won’t and we’ll have another minor disruption on our hands. Plus there’s the possibility that Mongoose might inadvertently cause a more serious disruption. That’s assuming that Cobra’s right again and that Mongoose has no interest in interfering with the adjustment. He could be wrong.”

“God, I hate those damn spooks,” Finn said.

“Well, it took a while, but I think I’ve finally come around to your point of view,” said Lucas. “I’d like to send the whole bunch of them into reeducation and then put them all to work in waste disposal about a million miles from Earth, preferably even farther.”

“It’s a nice thought, but it doesn’t solve our problem,” Finn said.

“I’ve just been thinking that it would have made our job a whole lot easier if you had been a bit more on target with your sword cane that night.”

“I was wondering if you’d get around to that,” said Finn.

Lucas sighed. “I’m actually surprised to hear myself say it, but killing him would wrap things up rather neatly, wouldn’t it?”

“I hate to be the one to bring this up,” Finn said, “but actually, it wouldn’t. The new director of the agency wants him alive so he can pump him dry. If we killed Mongoose, we’d be directly disobeying orders, we’d have both the TIA and the Observer Corps coming down on us and, last but not least, we’d be guilty of murder.”

“I don’t think they could make a case for murder,” Lucas said, thoughtfully.

“They could if they wanted to,” said Finn. “Manslaughter, at the very least. We’d be in it pretty deep.”

“That didn’t stop you when you tried to stick him in the maze,” said Lucas.

“Things weren’t quite so complicated then,” said Finn. “Besides, I had no intention of getting caught.”

“What were you planning to do with the body?”

“I hadn’t thought it through that far,” said Finn, “but there are several nice lakes on the estate. If I weighted him down, he’d sink very nicely and by the time he came up, if he ever did come up, we’d be long gone and no one would ever be able to recognize who it was.”

“He’d have implants,” Lucas said. “There’d be the problem of the termination signal.”

Finn gazed down at his hand, contemplating his hypo ring. He exposed the needle and stared at it a moment. “Fitzroy was kind enough to issue me some sedatives,” he said. “It would mean that we’d have to take him alive, but then we could put him to sleep and do a little sloppy surgery.”

Lucas exhaled heavily. “I can’t believe we’re talking like this,” he said.

Finn shrugged. “It’s only talk. So far.”

Lucas nodded. “Yeah. So far.”

The three of them sat in a corner at a small and rickety table in a dark and unprepossessing inn called the Chat Gris, on the outskirts of Calais near Cap Gris Nez. The innkeeper, a surly, grizzled Frenchman named Brogard, did little to disguise his dislike for the Englishmen or his citizen’s contempt for their aristocratic status. However, they were paying customers and the times in France were such that Brogard could ill afford to turn anyone away much less rich patrons with healthy appetites who had also taken rooms in his establishment. He served them in a prompt, if perfunctory, manner and he kept his contact with them to a minimum, which suited Lucas, Finn, and Andrew Ffoulkes just fine.

“I have found the perfect place,” said Ffoulkes in a low voice, so as not to be overheard, although Brogard had removed himself to the far corner of the room and was obviously totally uninterested in anything that Englishmen had to say. “It’s a tiny cottage belonging to a Pere Blanchard,” Ffoulkes said, “an old man of Royalist sympathies who was more than happy to allow us the use of his small hut with no questions asked, providing he received a very reasonable stipend to ease his final days. I think he suspects that I am a smuggler, though I’m certain he doesn’t have a clue as to the sort of goods I’m dealing in.” He grinned.

“Where is this cottage?” Lucas said.

“You take the St. Martin’s road out of town, in the direction of the cliffs,” said Ffoulkes. “At the crest of the road, there is a very narrow footpath, but you must watch for it or else you shall miss it. The footpath leads down to the cliffs, where you will find the cottage, securely nestled on the hillside and well hidden from the road and any prying eyes who would not know to look for it. Blanchard is old, as I have said, and a bit of a recluse. He has an arrangement with a local Jew named Reuben Goldstein to bring him supplies from town occasionally. Outside of that, he has no contact with anyone. It seemed ideal.”

“Yes, it does seem ideal,” Finn said. “You’ve done well, Andrew. It sounds like exactly what we need.”

Ffoulkes smiled, obviously pleased. “What have you learned of the Marquis de Sevigne?”

Finn gave him the information Fitzroy had provided. “He is at present hiding in the apartments of Armand St. Just.”

“An inspired hiding place!” said Ffoulkes. “Who would think of seeking a wanted aristocrat in the home of one of the members of the Committee of Public Safety?”

“Nevertheless, he must be moved quite soon,” said Finn. “St. Just must be very careful. We have to keep any contact with him to a minimum, for his own protection. So long as the marquis is there, St. Just is in great danger.”

Ffoulkes nodded, grimly. “Indeed. He must be moved at once. Where will he be taken? To our hideout near the West Barricade?”

“That’s right,” said Lucas. “He will be taken there tomorrow night, but we cannot risk keeping him there for very long. We must move swiftly.”

“Tomorrow night,” said Finn. “Shortly before daybreak.” “You plan to take him out when the gates are closed?” said Ffoulkes. “How will you get past the guards?”

“Leave that to me,” said Finn. “Recent escapes have been conducted in broad daylight. They will be much more vigilant now during the normal hours of traffic in and out of Paris. We must alter our tactics and keep them off balance.”

“Very well,” said Ffoulkes. “What’s to be my part?”

“Two of our men, Wilberforce and Barrett, have already left for Paris,” Lucas said. “They will be at the apartment to meet the marquis when he arrives. They will then await further instructions.”

“For the time being, remain here,” said Finn. “Don’t go out after Thursday. Expect to hear from us anytime after then. Send Rodney Moore and the Byrne brothers to Pere Blanchard’s hut. The marquis will be brought there. Make sure that Blanchard realizes that he will be implicated if he betrays us. Lucas and I shall meet you here. When we arrive and you know that it is safe, you will go to Pere Blanchard’s hut and signal the Day Dream, which will be lying off Cap Gris Nez. Tony will send a boat for you. Lucas and I shall arrange for separate passage back to Dover. The others return on board the Day Dream. Wilberforce and Barrett will be on their own and they understand the risks. Any questions?”

“You are leaving for Paris immediately, then?”

Finn nodded.

“That still does not leave you much time.”

“Time enough,” said Finn. “The important thing to remember is not to make our friend Brogard suspicious. Don’t forget, we’re dissolute young Englishmen with time and money on our hands, out to replenish our cellars with French grape. Ask a lot of questions around town to that effect between now and Thursday. Who is selling? What are they selling? Who is liable to offer the best price? And if you should run into any good bargains, feel free to buy me several cases.”

Ffoulkes laughed and they parted company. As they posted to Paris in great haste, Finn’s depression over Marguerite vanished completely, giving way to professional concern.

“What do you want to bet that Mongoose tries it again this time?” said Finn.

“If he does, it’ll mean one of two things,” said Lucas.

“Since he can’t fool Fitzroy into keeping him briefed anymore, he’ll have to have some sort of pipeline into the TIA team for information.”

“Possible, I suppose, but highly unlikely,” Finn said.

“I agree. The other alternative is that he’s been watching us very, very closely because there’s just no other way he’d know what we were planning.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Finn said. “It’s occurred to me that he might have infiltrated us. For all we know, he could be one of the boys in the league, since we have no idea what he looks like now. Come to think of it, we never knew what he really looked like, did we? He’s changed his appearance so many damn times, I wonder if he knows what he really looks like anymore. I’ve cut down the odds as much as I could when I planned this operation. No one knew in advance what they’d have to do.”

“That still leaves room for error,” Lucas said.

“Yes, and doubt. Still, it’s about as tight as it could be, I think. We know for sure that Ffoulkes is okay because he took delivery of Leforte from Mongoose and Dewhurst was with him the night I met Mongoose in the maze, which also eliminates Dewhurst. Besides, Briggs was with Dewhurst when Leforte was snatched. That still leaves the others. Wilberforce and Barrett have orders not to leave each other’s sight. Rodney Moore is with the Byrne brothers, so no one will be alone. At least, no one should be alone except for Andy Ffoulkes. Have I left anything out?”

“No, that covers it. If anyone is where they shouldn’t be we’ve got ourselves a suspect. If they all alibi each other, then that scratches all of them and we can concentrate on the ones who remained behind on this trip. It’s slow, but it’s steady. It might work.”

“It had better work,” said Finn. “Well, you going to take the first shift or shall I?”

“You go ahead and sleep,” said Lucas. “I’ll wake you at the first change of horses.”

They reached Paris without incident the next night and Finn paid the driver a handsome bonus, as promised, for keeping up a breakneck pace all the way. The exhausted driver took the money as though it were contaminated, coming from English hands, but it was quite a large sum and he did not complain.

The first thing they did upon entering the city was to check in at the safehouse with Fitzroy, who had established new quarters for himself near the Place de la Revolution. Even though they had traveled with all possible speed, they were running short of time, according to their schedule. Fitzroy confirmed that Alan Wilberforce and John Barrett had taken up their station in the tiny apartment near the West Barricade.

“The marquis should be there right now,” Fitzroy said. “You still have some time, but you cut it pretty close.”

“That was the plan,” said Finn. “I want no problems or mistakes this time.”

“I see,” Fitzroy said. “I trust that there will be none. I’ve obtained the disguise you asked for. We still have a little time left. While you’re getting prepared, we can go over the plan.”

The streets were nearly empty as they neared their destination. It was very late and only a few people were about. Finn and Lucas had both changed their clothing. They appeared to be ordinary citizens and Finn had added a dark wig, whiskers, and a moustache, along with some additional facial makeup, so that he could meet with Wilberforce and Barrett and not be recognized as Percy Blakeney.

“If Wilberforce and Barrett do their part right, it should all go smoothly,” Lucas said. “Unless one of them is Mongoose.”

“We’ll know soon enough,” said Finn. “Just don’t turn your back on either of them. One more time. You three start shooting your pistols at…?”

“Three on the dot,” said Lucas.

“Good. I’ll wait until I hear the ruckus, then I’ll make my move with the marquis. As soon as the guards get drawn away, I’m going for the gate. They’ll probably leave a couple of men on the gate unless we get real lucky, but they’ll be tired after a full shift and shouldn’t pose a problem. I just hope to hell the horses are where Fitzroy said they would be.”

“We’ve gone over it with him twice,” said Lucas. “They’ll be there. I just hope the marquis doesn’t panic on us.”

“If he does, I’ll put him to sleep for a little while,” said Finn. “I’ll get him to Cap Gris Nez if I have to carry him.”

They turned down a narrow side street and walked halfway down the block until they came to the house where Wilberforce and Barrett were waiting with the marquis. The room was on the second floor. The windows were covered, as per instructions.

“Wait down here,” said Finn. “I’ll send the boys down to you. I’ll give you a five-minute head start, then I’ll follow with the marquis.”

Finn entered the building and slowly climbed the steps to the second floor, being careful not to make any noise. He came to the door of the apartment where the marquis was being hidden and softly knocked three times. The door opened just a crack.

“I come from the Pimpernel,” Finn whispered.

He was admitted and he entered quickly. Just as quickly Barrett shut the door behind him, lowering the hammer slowly on the pistol he held in his right hand.

“What is it?” Barrett said in a low, urgent voice. “Has anything gone wrong?”

Finn tensed. There was no one in the room except himself the tall and slender Barrett, and the shorter, more heavily built Wilberforce. Both men were staring at him anxiously. There was no sign of the marquis.

“What do you mean?” said Finn, disguising his voice. “Where is the marquis?”

Barrett looked alarmed and he exchanged a quick glance with Wilberforce. “Why, he has gone with the boy, as the Pimpernel instructed,” he said.

“The boy! What boy?”

“The little street urchin,” said Wilberforce looking concerned. “Jean, I think his name was. He brought the woman’s clothing for the marquis and they went out together, posing as mother and son.”

“What’s the matter?” Barrett said. “Something’s gone wrong, hasn’t it?”

“No, no,” Finn said, recovering quickly, “nothing has gone wrong. I just didn’t know that the Pimpernel would use the boy, that’s all.”

They looked relieved. “Well, Alan and I were both a bit surprised that the Pimpernel would use a child,” said Barrett, “but he did seem like a capable young chap and I must admit it was a stroke of genius, using a little boy. Who would suspect a mother and her son?”

“Who, indeed?” said Finn. “I hadn’t known the plan. I was only told the part I was to play.”

“The Pimpernel likes doing things that way,” said Barrett. “Less chance for the plan being discovered, what? Young Jean said we would be contacted regarding any change in plan or instructions for our departure. I expect that’s your job, eh?”

“Right, that’s what I came for,” Finn said. “You are to stay the night. Make your way out of the city tomorrow afternoon.

You are English gentlemen who had heard about the goings-on here and came to see how the Revolution had changed things for yourselves. You’ve had a perfectly marvelous time and now you’re on your way home to tell your friends all about it. If you’re asked about the Scarlet Pimpernel, you are to over-whelm them with questions in return. Everyone in London wants to know about the Pimpernel and who would know better than the soldiers at the gates? They should grow quite disgusted with you and pass you through without further inquiry.”

The two men grinned at each other.

“I say this calls for a celebration,” Barrett said. “We’ve got several bottles of claret waiting to be uncorked, old chap. Will you join us?”

“Wish I could, but I must be on about my business,” Finn said. “You’ve done well. Good night and good fortune to you.”

He left them and hurried back downstairs to Lucas.

“What’s happened?” Lucas said, grabbing his arm.

“That son of a bitch has done it again!” said Finn. “He beat us to it and took the marquis out from right under our noses!”

“Took him? How?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” Finn said. “It was that kid, that miserable little pickpocket-”

“ You mean Jean? The same boy that we-”

“That’s him. He walked right up to the door, said the Pimpernel had sent him, and they turned the marquis over to him. We couldn’t have missed him by more than twenty minutes!”

“Fitzroy is going to have a stroke,” said Lucas. “What do we do now?”

“What else can we do? Get back to the coast. But first we’re going to have to go to Fitzroy and tell him what happened.”

“I’m not looking forward to this,” Lucas said, as they started walking back.

“Neither am I,” said Finn, “but at least we’ve got something to tell him beyond the fact that we blew it. There can’t be any doubt about it now. Mongoose is one of the members of the league. If we get back to Cap Gris Nez and find out that somebody wasn’t where he should have been, that’s our man.”

“Otherwise, it’s one of the men who remained behind in England,” Lucas said. “But then, Hastings, Browning and the others wouldn’t have known the plan.”

“True, but they’d know about the hideout,” Finn said. “They’d also know to follow whomever we sent on ahead to Paris. There’s no other way he could have done it. One of them is Mongoose.”

“Really?” said Fitzroy. “That’s very interesting.”

“That’s all you have to say?” said Finn.

“No, not quite all,” Fitzroy said. “I could say that I’m frankly surprised that it took the two of you so long to come to that conclusion. Cobra suspected it right from the start when he arrived. I could say that if you had been more thorough in preparing your men for this rescue attempt, instead of keeping them in the dark about what they were to do until the very last minute, this might not have happened. In fact, I could say a great deal more, but I’m not going to bother. Instead, I am going to assume full authority over this adjustment immediately. I have had about enough of your sorry inefficiency.”

“Now just a minute,” Lucas said, restraining Finn with a hand on his arm. “I didn’t hear you objecting to the plan when we went over it with you. As for taking charge of this adjustment, aren’t you overstepping your authority just a little? You’re within bounds to pass on directives from Plus Time, but Observers aren’t-”

“‘I know very well what the function of an Observer is, Major Priest, I don’t need you to tell me! Yes, you’re quite correct, I am departing from normal procedure, but the two of you have left me no other choice. You’ve been outwitted twice, both times by a boy who can’t be more than twelve years old!”

“You know very well that Mongoose had that kid-” Finn began, but Fitzroy interrupted him.

“I am inclined to agree with agent Cobra that Mongoose does not present an overt threat to this operation. It’s clear to me that he desires nothing more than to embarrass the two of you, and he seems to be succeeding admirably. He’s doing your job for you and doing it quite well, I might add. As long as it gets done, I don’t really care who does it, so long as the Scarlet Pimpernel receives the credit.”

“So what do you expect us to do?” Finn said, angrily. “You want us to sit on our hands while Mongoose does all the work?”

“That’s a very tempting proposition,” said Fitzroy. “However, I will tell you precisely what I expect you to do. I expect you to continue playing your parts and to refrain from any sort of independent action. I will devise the plans for all future rescues and I will expect you to follow them to the letter, to the last detail. I will have my support staff working, with agent Cobra’s team standing by to observe each aspect of each operation, ready to act when Mongoose makes his move. The moment that the object of the rescue is safely out of danger, the agents will move in and apprehend their man. Between my own efforts in this regard and agent Cobra’s investigation, Mongoose will be taken. I will do my very best to keep your part in this as uncomplicated as possible in order to avoid confusing you. I still need a Percy Blakeney. Unfortunately, Delaney, you’re all I have to fill that role, so you will simply have to do, at least for the time being. Now I suggest the two of you make your way back to Cap Gris Nez, where Mongoose will undoubtedly deliver the Marquis de Sevigne to the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel. With any luck, perhaps the TIA agents will apprehend him there and you’ll be spared any further embarrassment. Good night, gentlemen.”

Finn was on the verge of making a temperamental reply, but Lucas took him by the arm and firmly pulled him toward the door. Fitzroy watched them with disdain as they left, then shook his head and chuckled.

“All right, Jean,” he said in French, “come on out.”

The closet door opened and the boy stepped out.

“How did you leave the marquis?”

“Asleep, downstairs,” the boy replied. “I pricked him with the ring, just as you said. He glanced at the ring he wore on his left hand, identical to the one Finn had been given. “How does it work?”

“Don’t concern yourself, Jean, you would not understand. You’ve done very well. Here.” He gave the boy a purse. “This is for you and your brother. Take care that no one steals it from you. I’ll have more work for you very soon.”

“Thank you, monsieur.”

“That will be all. Run along now. Take care that no one sees you leave.”