Once again we are beholden to the current executors of the Knolly estate for letting us publish this, the second package of the great man's journals and memoirs.

Once across the Thames I had our driver make haste to the nearest postal office so that I could pen a quick telegram to Bertie informing him to drop whatever he was doing and get the 'Y-file' over to Biggfat post-haste. I hoped that he would see the sense of urgency in the 'Red Code' I used, but other than traipsing over to Hobbes' house once more, this was the only method open to me without giving anything away to anyone who might be watching.

The telegram was duly dispatched, and I had patiently watched it being sent whilst keeping a weather eye out for anything vaguely suspicious. Alas, this meant that other customers within the post office gave me a very wide berth. With my nerves twanging like never before, we once again set off for West Norwood and Maxim's house. I wondered aloud if I should have sent something to Biggfat himself, but, in discussing with Elspeth, she thought I would be best to pay him a visit tomorrow—unless I wanted to follow her around the various shops she intended to visit. This gave me something else to dwell upon and so quite soon we arrived at our destination.

With the cab driver waiting (and—once again—I had to promise a handsome tip) Elspeth and I approached Chez Maxim. Elspeth nudged me as the front room curtain twitched;

'Someone's at home then,' she muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

I noticed it too but said nothing as we stopped at the front door. It was slowly opened, just wide enough for a sparkling eye to take a good look at the pair of us. Obviously satisfied that we were not any threat, the door was opened further and there stood an avuncular, white-haired be whiskered fellow in shirtsleeves, and very dapper for all that.

'My apologies for the precautions, but you can't be too careful in my line of work you know. Mr and Mrs...?'

'Commander Knolly, RN—and this is my wife Elspeth.' I replied.

'Capital, capital! Well, you passed that test!' He looked over my shoulder. 'Your cab's waiting, I see. No time to lose, so let us get to business. Please come inside—this way.'

I had never met the fellow before but had heard much about him. What was particularly odd, was that he lived so close to Elspeth and me, and neither of us had ever set eyes on the fellow. Oh, I was well aware of his scientific and engineering accomplishments, and Hobbes had impressed most vigorously upon me not to mention Edison at any cost due to past incidents over electric light bulbs. Maxim to my ears still had the trace of an American accent although he had been in the country for many years now and had even taken on British citizenship. I must say he looked very well for his sixty plus years.

'I admire your caution at opening the door, sir.' I said, attempting some chit-chat. 'You have had trouble with door steppers maybe?'

'Indeed, yes. Neighbours mainly. They always complain about the noise, broken windows, that sort of stuff, despite my running announcements in the local papers to warn when I'm in the garden and about to test my apparatus. Some people just take no notice and then proceed to bang on my door to complain!'

We reached what seemed to be the kitchen from whence he shooed out two youngsters, whom we could only assume were relatives of some sort.

He looked at Elspeth and raised an eyebrow. 'Grandchildren, he? Hard work but worth every minute. But this is not your immediate concern, I should think?'

Elspeth gave him one of her most disarming smiles and said nothing.

The table before us was festooned with diagrams and papers; I inwardly shuddered—for here was a model of what appeared to be something that resembled one of Langley's steam powered aerodromes. I wondered at the modern pre-occupation with the notion that man should fly from place-to-place. Maxim picked up the model carefully and placed on the dresser behind him.

'I think this is what our mutual friend Hobbes asked you to collect.' said Maxim as he hefted a fair-sized box onto the table.

'Hang your chemistry and electricity! I was told many years ago that if you want to make a pile of money, invent something that will enable these Europeans to cut each others' throats with greater facility,' he said in all seriousness.

'Indeed—and not just Europeans these days either?' I added wryly.

'It was not I that sold to the Boers, Commander,' he replied rather testily. He opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a tablecloth which he then laid over the paperwork.

'It is of no consequence to me, Mr Maxim. They would have acquired their weaponry via some other empire, I'm sure.'

Elspeth tut-tutted at the use of the tablecloth but said nothing, I could see in her eyes that she was now plainly excited.

Maxim had by now removed the lid from the crate and lifted the weapon free of its brown oil paper wrapping; he placed it on the cloth.

Elspeth reached forward to touch the killing device that lay before her. She fondled the cold, hard machinery with her now ungloved hands, rubbing the thick grease between her fingers and thumb. Her eyes seemed to glaze over, a look similar to the one that I remembered seeing on that fateful evening in South Africa when Elspeth DeVries was still under the influence of Doctor Jameson and experimenting with syringes and cocaine.

'Why, Mr Maxim, I never imagined something so powerful would be so small, so compact,' she muttered huskily. I noticed that she used her tongue ever so slightly to moisten her lips.

I shook my head and pulled Elspeth away from Maxim's weapon. 'Please excuse us for one moment, would you?' I asked of Maxim.

Elspeth trembled under my firm grip and I guided her to a chair on the other side of the room. Young women and guns are an explosive combination. No—I'll take that back and say that all women and guns are an explosive mixture. I remember a grouse shoot from my younger days when the ladies were allowed to have a go at bagging a few birds. Fair scared the pants off me, I'll say. Never content with a single shot, they would pour continuous fire into their target yelling with glee as they did so... and the language too—enough to make a Tar blush!

I picked up the gun. 'This is a newer model, I see. Much lighter...'

Maxim nodded, 'I assume that your Navy background means that you have come across my earlier models?' he asked.

'Hmmm... rather prone to jamming I'm told, too.' I was well aware of the problems of such weapons but also of their successful deployment in Matableland and at Omdurman. Although the Army highups were still cautious in their usage, the Admiralty was another matter.

'True, true... but we seem to have got around that problem,' said Maxim. 'I say "we", but I mean "the company". I must admit that I do find machine guns are rather boring these days.'

'I would wager that they are still a money maker, though,' drawled Elspeth obviously still slightly intoxicated.

Maxim appeared either not to hear this or to ignore the barb. I granted him the benefit of the doubt; I am sure that working at such close proximity to heavy armaments must damage one's hearing.

'Powered flight! That's the next big thing, you know!' he said suddenly looking happier.

'So I notice,' I said as I carefully lay the gun back in its case and tucking the wrapping back around it. 'Is this everything that we require?'

'No, not normally,' he said, 'but Hobbes said that you were going to mount it on an automobile of some sort, so you do not need the tripod or water cooler.'

I was not best pleased with this statement. 'Hobbes told you that, did he?' I asked. I reminded myself to speak with Hobbes.

'Not exactly... but I know Royston Hobbes very well and I know the way he thinks.'

'And what else did you glean from your conversations with your old friend?'

'Nothing. Nothing of any importance, I'm certain. Now... I think that you have kept your cabbie waiting long enough and your wife looks tired, hmm? Farewell and good luck.'

With that we were escorted (or rather shushed) out of the house politely, but firmly, and the door slammed behind us. Once out in the fresh air, Elspeth seemed to recover from her little trance.

'Well!' she said, 'what an unusual fellow!'

'How so?' I asked

'He didn't even offer us a cup of tea!' she complained as I lugged the crate.

'My dear,' I explained. 'He's an engineer, an inventor. They are all a bit strange. You've been spoilt by Hobbes. if you think that Maxim is unusual, you should meet some of the chaps he works with.'

'If they do not have basic manners, then I think that I should most definitely not wish to meet them. I pity his poor wife when she sees the state of the tablecloth.'

I looked at her, 'Well, that's good,' I said.

'What is?'

'You're complaining about trivialities such as the tablecloth. It's a signal that you are back to normal. Even so, I think that we shall ask the driver to put the crate on the luggage rack rather than inside, don't you think?'

She nodded. 'Yes I think that would be very wise, I'm sure I don't know what's come over me lately.'

Once again we were back in the cab, but only for a short journey, the sooner we were home the better.

The Great Knolly Archive

06.11.08 Front Page

Back Issue Page