As is well known, darkness permits of degrees, and this was a particularly pervasive gloominess that snuck into crevices and crannies with a natural ease, pervading the tiny cramped space in a dingy half-light, making it difficult to see, but not absolutely pitch-black.

There was a hiss of escaping air from the container, then a mysterious ratcheting clunk. Mary snapped at her accomplices, 'Get some light in here!' Von Trapp and Slepp appeared at her shoulders and trained their flashlights on the contents of the mysterious trunk. Among a tangle of gears and levers, a rusty old sliver of metal was jerking around in a short arc.

'It's some kind of antiquated security mechanism,' observed Von Trapp incorrectly, and he yawned to hide his nerves. 'Ja. I suggest that we move back. It will probably do something indiscriminate any minute now.' He and Slepp managed to move approximately fifteen feet off without any overt use of their knees.

'No.' Mary was peering closer, and now she grinned. 'I know what this is...'

The sliver of metal dropped. There was a deafening burst of strangled, shrieking noise. Vandeveer, Von Trapp scrambled for the exit... And there was the tuneful little sound of somebody putting down a violin on a wooden table. The somebody cleared their throat: Mary turned to her boys and now turned on the full 10,000-volt grin.

'It's a gramophone.'

The voice was scratchy and distant, and the conspirators gathered close around the gramophone horn to hear it. It was a cultured, slightly nasal upper-class drawl.

"Mywarmestgreetingsandcongratulationstoyou,whomsoeveryoumaybe.ThisisS.Holmesspeaking,onthe23rdofSeptember1890,inthelivingroomof221BBakerStreet,London.


Inhearingthisgramophonicalrecording,youhaveprovenyourdedicationtothepursuitoftheTurquoiseMoon.Jollywelldone.AndmayGodpreservewhateverdawningageofthefuturewhenmanlearnstotaptheterrifying,enervatingpotentialofthatblood-soakedorb... however,Idigress,andMrsHudsoncannotpedaltherecording-engineindefinitely...



... andso.Dearlistener,you maybedisappointedtonotethelackofgiant,glitteringdiamondsin thevicinity.Apologies.It appearstomyassociates andIthat,withthenotorious MoriartyandhiscatspawscriminalbandinsearchoftheMoon,amerebankwouldnotprovidesecurityenough...'

Von Trapp cracked his knuckles and swore gently but shockingly under his breath.

"... andsotheMoonhasbeenmovedtoafar-flungoutpostofBritannia'sworld-spanningEmpire.IfyouareanAgentoftheCrown,thefollowingadvicemay aidyouinyourcontinuingsearch—youmustcontacttheindependentoperativeknownasOzymandias,orhissuccessor.Godspeed.



If,however,youareaminionofthatghastlyCultwhichseeksthediamond,'

All the minions leaned forward slightly.

"... knowthatyouarefightingtheresourcesandwealthoftheBritishEmpire,onwhichthesunneversets,thegreatestsuperpowerintheworld—andtogiveupyourdastardlyenterpriseimmediately... '

The minions relaxed, and there were a few chuckles.

'The times they do change, eh?' grinned Vandeveer.

'Sshh! What was that?'

The recording was getting quieter as it wound down, and all leaned in closer to hear.

"... soandtoconclude.Ohyes,andDoctorWatson informsmethatthisgramophonicalrecordingwillself-destructin... onesecond —'

There was a flash, a billow of sooty smoke and a round of coughing. Von Trapp emerged from the smoke, brushing soot from his suit and hammering his chest. 'Sherlock Holmes just tried to kill me...' he whispered absently, then looking over at Mary, he said, 'There's no diamond.'

Mary stood at the entrance.

'There is no diamond here!'

'What of it? We have what we need.'

Vandeveer balked. 'What exactly do we have, hmm? I will still expect...'

'Riding lessons!' Von Trapp snapped.

Mary cut in. 'We have something those Agency fools don't know about.'

The terrible team gathered round her, appearing various degrees of mystified. She grinned, her teeth white as fresh ivory in her soot-black face. 'First we make our exit from here. Then we go — to Egypt.'

Daltmooreby staggered in from the corner, still wincing slightly with each awkward step. When he reached the cooling corpse of Ingrid, he gave a small sigh and strode into the vault. 'Slepp, did you have to?' he asked, libido still aching at the challenge of another conquest now cruelly snatched away.

'She was coming right at me,' the assassin muttered non-committally, flicking the tip of a razor-sharp fountain pen.

Daltmooreby felt like putting the hurt on Tonnajob, but the young man was faster and stronger than he was these days and he didn't need the hassle. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he mopped his brow. He wandered across through the lines of deposit boxes. 'What did you find?' he asked, sidling up to the hole in the floor.

Mary's head popped out of the floor. 'We hit the jackpot, Sean dearest — now hand Mary that seven-pound sledge.'

'Yes ma'am,' said Daltmooreby, hefting the large hammer from a small satchel of hardware and passing it down the hole, where a unseen hand took it from his grip.

'Much obliged,' came the disembodied voice from below.

Mary ducked under the low ceiling of the small dugout that contained not the Turquoise Diamond, as Mary had perhaps hoped, but an obscure message that pointed to a new adventure.

Vandeveer stood to one side, still holding a flashlight, spotting the smoking wreck of the gramophone. 'What's that for?' he asked when the noise of the hammer collapsing down the broken stone disturbed him from his reverie.

'Insurance,' Mary muttered, before in one swing that belied her short frame, she heaved the sledgehammer up and brought it down with a decisive smack on the smouldering shell of the gramophone, shattering the record and crushing the antique music box into splinters. She nudged the flattened charcoal box with her foot until something not wooden peeked out from the wreckage. 'I thought so,' said Mary with a smirk, stooping down to pick up the object that glimmered slightly in the lamplight. 'It's a key.'

'Right,' said Vandeveer. 'Wonder what it's for?'

'I'm sure we'll find out,' said Mary tucking it into her bosom. 'We are leaving.'

Daltmooreby had been patiently waiting above ground ever since Mary disappeared with the hammer; she ascended out of the hole with commendable speed. 'We are going have to get going — I fear we have outstayed our welcome. Besides, we have a long way to go.'

'Why, where is the diamond?'

'It's not down there.'

'You're kidding — all this planning?"

'No,' Mary said patiently, 'but we have the upper hand. Those Agency fools will never catch us now. The diamond is in Egypt,' she smiled, 'of all places.'

'Egypt?' Daltmooreby looked startled as Mary breezed by him. He followed as Vandeveer appeared from below. 'Where in Egypt?'

'Don't worry yourself, Sean dearest. Everything will be fine.'

Sean placed his hand on Mary's shoulder, abruptly arresting her stride. 'No, you misunderstand me. I have contacts in Egypt. Someone who can help us find it.'

'Who?' Mary asked, arching her eyebrows.

'I'd rather not say.' Daltmooreby knew an upper hand when he held one. 'You'll just have to trust me.'

'Trust?' Mary said, smiling a slim smile.

'You heard me.'

After a moment's consideration, Mary beamed and clasped her hands onto Daltmooreby's cheeks in an expression of joy. 'Sean, my boy, you are a godsend.' Mary addressed her assembled troopers. 'We have what we came for. Let's go.' She turned to leave.

At that precise moment, upstairs, one of the clerks crossed the immaculate marble floor of the bank with a clutch of contract agreements in his hand. He rapped on the door of the manager.

Silence.

'Mr Phffennigstohler?' he asked.

Nothing.

'Mr Phffennigstohler? Sir?' The intonation on 'sir' indicated a moment of tension. Seconds later, this was resolved with a gasp of horror when the clerk gingerly opened the door and saw Phffennigstohler slumped backward in his chair with a single stain spread out over his chest. The clerk was stricken with fear. Muscles suddenly back under control from the involuntary paralysis of his mind, he raced out into the bank and hollered: 'He's been shot! The manager has been shot!' One of the tellers behind the security windows pressed the security switch by her feet and the alarms suddenly sounded and shutters began sliding down across all the doors and windows.

'Where is security?' someone said agitatedly: the phones to the subterranean offices were all dead...

Downstairs, Mary said, 'Let's go' and turned to leave. The large metal cage began to swing automatically to and shut with a decisive 'click', trapping the group inside the vault.

'Oh bugger,' Mary said.

Right about then, the klaxons sounded. Vandeveer look mortified.

'It's all right, I have a contingency plan for this,' said Mary. 'Slepp, which lot did they place the TNT and detonators in?'

'It was 299,768,' Slepp said. 'I took the liberty of removing the safe key from the woman.' He indicated Ingrid, slumped awkwardly in the corner. 'I have the other.'

'Get the TNT and the detonators — we'll blast our way out of here!' She pressed her finger into her earpiece and spoke. 'Sreka, get out — they know.'

But all she could hear was empty static.

Upstairs in the Security Surveillance Room, armed guards in black body armour had entered and were making a sweep of the area. They found a guard unconscious in one corner and an earpiece discarded on a console in the centre of the room.

The h2g2 Storytime III Archive

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