This story copyright © 2002, 2003, 2004 Mia McCroskey
Characters from The Avengers and other sources are the property of their respective owners.
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Steed grows a tail,
Emma makes her move
Chapter 7
Yeoman Warder Bradford gently extracted the last small jewel from the Queen Mother's crown and added it to the small pile sitting on an open black velvet bag. He stood up and crossed the small repair shop, replacing the crown in its case and locking it. Then he pulled the drawstrings on the bag closing the jewels safely inside and put it in his pocket. He glanced out into the corridor before stepping out carrying the crown case. The extraction had taken thirty-five minutes, exactly as planned. As a trusted jewel house guard he'd had little trouble intercepting the crown as it was being removed from the display for the night. He'd simply said it was wanted in the shop for a minor repair, producing a forged repair slip to back-up his claim.
Another guard sat at a desk in front of the jewel safe. Bradford put the case on the desk and patted it protectively.
"This is ready to be stored," he said.
"That's the Queen Mum's? Went for some repair?"
"That's right. The jeweler said it was simple after all, so here it is back again."
"Right then," the other guard rose and took the case. "I'll take care of it," he added, glancing at Bradford.
Bradford nodded nonchalantly and strode away. The guard turned to the safe, then, glancing along the corridor to be sure Bradford had left, took the case with him through a door into a small office. He set the crown down on a desk and picked up the telephone receiver.
As he walked toward the tower entrance Bradford felt inside his pockets. Jewels on the left, syringes on the right, and four canvas bags folded inside his uniform jacket. He left the White Tower and strolled as calmly as he could toward the dark alley where the ravens were housed.
This was the tricky part, but he'd practiced so many times he knew each bird's sleeping habits without having to see inside. And the birds had come to know him. He pulled the pouch of jewels out of his pocked and withdrew five bright stones, holding them in one fist. Selecting a nest shed toward the rear of the alley he opened the door and reached inside. He tucked the sleepy bird under his arm and opened his palm in front of its face. The bird eyed the shining jewels and blinked. Then it reached out and snatched them in its beak, swallowing them one by one.
"Good bird," Bradford muttered, tugging a bag out from within his jacket. He got the bird into it, but not without a little struggle. Kneeling with the bag on the ground he pulled the syringes out of his pocket and opened the bag enough to expose the soft feathers of the raven's breast. He injected the small dosage and the bird calmed. He secured the neck of the bag and moved to another nest shed.
"Just wait a second, Steed. Hold on!" Emma leaned around the back of her new "auto shoot" camera trying to look through the viewfinder to see what the lens saw. "Right," she added, pressing the shutter. The camera thunked as it took a picture. Five seconds later it thunked again. By then Emma was in front of the lens buttoning Steed's waistcoat. She stood back to see what else needed fixing on his costume and he reached up with her crown, placing it squarely on her head. She grinned, forcibly turning him by the shoulders. The camera thunked again.
"Steed, where's your tail?" she asked, looking where it should be. He groaned, plunging his hands into his jacket pockets. He was back in his "accept the awful inevitable" frame of mind, which really wouldn't do if they were to save the ravens and the crown jewels. He pulled his hands out, a fluffy white ball in one of them. The camera thunked, and Emma took the tail from him.
"Do your worst, Mrs. Peel," Steed said, bending slightly to present her with the proper spot for it. The tail had a safety pin attached, but she couldn't gather the furry fabric of his pants to install it without sticking him. The camera thunked.
"Steed, open your fly," she instructed, pulling up the back of his jacket to find the pants waistband.
"Mrs. Peel!" he said, looking back over his shoulder in shock. The camera thunked.
"Unless you want me to reach down them this way," she said, inserting her hand into the waistband. He straightened abruptly, emitting a little yelp.
"Mrs. Peel!" he exclaimed again, reaching for the button at the top of the pants.
"It's the only way I can pin this on without sticking you, Steed," she giggled.
Steed unbuttoned the fly of the furry costume, allowing Emma enough room to put her hand down inside and attach the tail. The camera thunked again.
"There you are," she said, patting his bottom and tugging his jacket and waistcoat back into place.
He turned around and inspected her costume, reaching up to straighten her crown, then pulling one side of the cloak a little to center it.
"You look marvelous," he said, caressing her cheek with the back of one hand. She automatically leaned into his gentle touch and smiled. The camera thunked.
"And you look charming," she replied, noting that Schenck had stiffened his ears.
Albert Jackson looked up from his book as Master Hicks entered the baking kitchen carrying four cloth bags. Earlier he'd turned up with a cage full of twenty blackbirds, all of them sedated so that they huddled together in the bottom unable to hold onto the perches. Elizabeth had said that they looked awfully sad and Albert agreed. Hicks had assured them that the birds were fine, they just had to be sedated for the trip to the ball in the pie. Albert wondered how Hicks planned to capture the birds after the pie was opened, but he was afraid to ask any questions of the apprentice master.
Hicks set the bags gently on the counter and examined the finished pastry, which the students had removed from the oven while he was out. They had formed the enormous top and bottom piecrusts and baked them blind, without any filling.
"Lay in a sheet of parchment, Callahan," he instructed. The apprentice laid a piece of
paper over the pan and used scissors to trim it round so that it fit into the
bottom of the pan.
"All right. We'll put these fellows in the middle and the small ones around them," Hicks said, opening one of the bags and gently removing a very still raven.
"This is going to be great," Callahan said as they arranged the birds in the bottom crust. To Albert it looked like a dish of dead black birds. He shuddered and looked away. The top crust was set on a cardboard sheet to support it and laid across the top of the pie. It was an impressive pastry, even though the actual baking had been less than elementary.
Steed had taken off his rabbit head to drive, but Emma had wrapped a crimson scarf over the top of her crown and secured it under her chin. The evening had turned fair, the daylong cloud cover clearing just before dusk.
"Steed, even if we recover the ravens, the jewels have been removed from one or more crowns. The damage has been done," Emma pointed out. She couldn't believe this had just occurred to her. Steed glanced over and smiled at her in a way that told her he'd already thought of it.
"Mrs. Peel, there are two full sets of 'traveling' jewels," he said. "You didn't think they allow the Queen Mum to wear that heavy gold crown, do you?"
"So have the tourists been looking at fake jewels since last week?" she asked, slightly annoyed that he had arranged the switch and not told her.
"No, that wouldn't be right. The real jewels are on display each day. They are swapped with one of the traveling sets at closing time and stored in the secondary safe. The traveling set are in the safe that normally houses the real thing. Emma thought about this process for a moment.
"And what if Bradford manages to get involved in making the switch?" she asked. Steed frowned at her. "He did arrange to change the schedule -- why wouldn't he arrange to be watching the jewels at closing time, just to be sure?"
Steed's eyebrows rose and he gripped the steering wheel, pressing hard on the old Bentley's accelerator.
"Steed! Mrs. Peel! You look spectacular!" Ambassador Brodney waddled toward them across the embassy foyer. Emma put a hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle, at the same time admiring Steed's ability to maintain his genial smile. Brodney was wearing a large, decorated egg, his arms and legs poking out at the knees and elbows, his face centered in an opening in the upper half.
"Good evening, Ambassador," Steed said, offering his gloved hand to Brodney. Brodney's limited range of movement made handshake awkward. Then Brodney took Emma's hand and tried to raise it to his mouth. His arm wouldn't reach.
"Uh, well, a pleasure to see you Mrs. Peel," he stammered, squeezing her hand. His face colored as she withdrew it and smiled indulgently at the him.
"And you, Ambassador," she said.
"Doctor Harkness!" Brodney had noticed the next guests arriving, "Excuse me Steed, Mrs. Peel," he glanced from one to the other, then stepped between them, his egg bumping them apart. Once he had passed, Steed reached out and took Emma's arm, guiding her on into the ballroom. Emma leaned close to Steed's ear, which lay behind a patch of mesh in his rabbit head.
"Lucky for Brodney that he's short -- if he were tall and that egg proportional, it would be too wide to fit through the doors," she said.
"Perhaps it's more flexible than it feels," Steed suggested, only now allowing his amusement to flash in his expressive eyes. "Work the room, my dear. I'll meet you on the other end."
The ballroom was awhirl with costumed dancers. Steed worked his way around the edge, pausing to listen to conversations as he went, identifying what guests he could beneath their fanciful garb. On the dance floor the Mock Turtle danced with Snow White and Tweedledum -- or Tweedledee -- danced with Little Red Ridinghood. Major General Korsakov, whose own large jaw was appropriate for his nutcracker costume, was surrounded by an entourage of toy soldiers. As he reached the far end of the room Steed came face to face with the costume he'd wanted to wear: a woman dressed as the Cheshire cat sat with her legs curled under her on a settee, her face wearing a mischievous grin.
"Good evening, sir rabbit," she purred, gesturing a pawed hand at the empty space beside her. She was Mina Fusik, a soviet agent more notorious for her deadly skills than even Mrs. Peel. Steed tugged out his pocket watch and peered at it, then glanced around looking for Emma.
"Sorry, I'm late," he said, then hurried toward his partner who he'd spotted nearby.
"Well?" he asked as they came together. Emma handed him a glass of champagne, which he accepted gratefully.
"The usual," she reported, "Slightly tipsy guests, various operatives having secretive conversations in the dark corners, bad food and cheap champagne. Let's dance while we can."
Steed knew it would be distracting to dance with her, but he couldn't say no. And if they were to continue working together successfully, they had to be able to be physically close without losing focus on the case. He had no doubt that she could switch gears in the intake of a breath; it was his response that he had begun to question. They set their glasses on a table and he offered her his hand.
They made a circuit of the dance floor, weaving expertly through the other dancers.
"Is Lord Frederick really a good dancer?" Steed heard himself murmur into her ear. He felt her stiffen, but she did not miss a step. He slowed their progress, turning her in place and letting other dancers swirl past them. She raised eyes full of emotions to look into his. His face was a proud mask, but she could easily see desire and possessiveness beneath it.
"No. I lied," she said, challenging him to pursue the matter. To her surprise, he took up the challenge.
"Why?"
"You were being peevish," she replied. "Freddy is an old friend."
"But a bad dancer," he added.
"I'd rather dance with you, if that's what you're getting at, Steed," she said.
His face broke into a smile, although not of victory, but of simple happiness. "I'm delighted to hear it, Mrs. Peel," he said guiding her back out into the flow of dancers to make another circuit of the floor.
The presentation of the pie was announced a double row of heralds -- dressed in playing card costumes -- marching onto the dance floor to form a corridor from the door to the throne-like chair where Major General Korsakov was seated. Brodney stood on his left, his toy soldier guards arrayed behind them. The costumed guests crowded close behind the heralds to watch. Steed and Emma separated and worked their way near to Korsakov, making eye contact from either side of the heralds' corridor.
The four apprentices marched in dressed in traditional apprentice baker's livery. Each student held a corner of a large board on which a decorated box sat. Master Hicks walked behind them in his master's robes, hands folded in front of his round middle. The heralds nearest the major general placed two stools on the floor in front of him and the apprentices placed the board on top of them then stepped to the sides. Master Hicks stepped forward and put his hands on either side of the box. He lifted the box up revealing the pie, its top crust shaking, a strange sound emanating from beneath it.
Hicks nodded at the students, who stepped forward and took hold of the edges of the top crust. Exchanging a glance, all four lifted it at once, splitting it in half along a pre-scored centerline and setting the pieces on the board beside the pie. The birds, somewhat recovered from their sedation, roused at the inrush of light and air. Many of the twenty small ones took off immediately, flying over the heads of the guests. This inspired the rest, including the four big ravens. They squawked and cried and took flight to circle the unfamiliar ballroom above the heads of the guest.
The reaction was mixed -- squeals of fright were mixed in with appreciative oohs and ahhs and clapping. But the birds were not as recovered from the drug as they thought they were. Several landed on guests causing little pockets of turmoil all around the room. Steed and Emma tried to track the ravens as guests pushed through the ranks of heralds. The pie being knocked off its stools and crashing to the floor seemed to be the final spur for utter chaos to ensue.
Emma saw a large butterfly net rise above the heads of the guests and intercept one of the flying ravens. She pushed through the crowed to find whoever was using it. Steed watched a raven land on the Mad Hatter who batted at it with white-gloved hands. The raven took back off awkwardly, glancing off a wall and falling to the floor. Steed stepped to it, gathering it up and tucking it under his arm to keep its wings closed. It panted and squirmed weakly.
Many of the guests were fleeing the ballroom with its increasingly mad flock of circling blackbirds. The apprentices, clearly abandoned by Hicks, stood staring at the pieces of fallen pie as guests jostled them on all sides. The major general had risen and was watching the circling birds calmly. Did he know what was in the pie? Steed wondered.
"Steed!" he heard Emma's call. She was wrestling with a wolf -- a big, bad wolf, presumably -- for possession of a large butterfly net on a pole that had a raven tangled in it. As he started toward her to help she got a grip on the pole and jammed it into the wolf's gut, "The knave of hearts, he's getting away with a raven," she said as she yanked the pole away from the incapacitated wolf. She nodded toward an open door behind the major general's throne. Steed pressed his raven into her hands and headed for the door.
Emma glanced at the wolf -- he was not likely to recover quickly -- then carefully added Steed's raven to the net with its companion. The two birds' claws caught in the delicate net, causing them to struggle unhappily. Emma feared that they would tear through it and decided there must be something else to put them in around somewhere.
She studied the circling flock of blackbirds. She did not see the last large bird among them, so either it had landed somewhere in the room, or it had been caught like the one she'd seen in the playing card's hands. Clutching the net, she hurried through the door where Steed had gone.
Steed caught up with the shorter man in the playing card costume halfway across the anteroom, tacking him inelegantly. With a loud squawk the raven escaped, flapping the rest of the way across the room to land on a side chair by another door where it defecated with great aplomb.
The knave rolled over and kicked at Steed, who bounced back to his feet and out of the way. He hated kicking a man who was down, so he circled the knave, giving him a chance to get up while putting himself closer to the raven. The knave rose and charged at Steed, head butting him in the stomach. Steed's solid abdomen absorbed the blow and Steed chopped heavily at either side of the knave's neck. Movement at the door caught his eye and he looked up to see Emma enter with her net just as the knave fell at his feet.
He spun around to the raven. It was gone. He continued his turn, scanning the relatively sparsely furnished room.
"Do you see it?" he asked Emma. She was also looking.
"No. Through there?" she pointed at the door by the chair. It was ajar. Together they approached it and Steed put his hand on it.
"After you," he said. She advanced with the pole extended in front of her, one hand holding the net closed around her captive birds. Steed pushed the door open.
"Stop there," Master Hicks stood in the corridor holding a large, wriggling canvas sack. Steed and Emma stopped side-by-side, then edged slowly apart. "Stop!" Hicks added more urgently. They stopped, exchanging a glance. Down the hall, ball guests were milling about the entrance to the ballroom, but none were very close.
"It seems we have a standoff," Emma said.
"Yes, we each have two birds in the hand," Steed added, glancing from the wriggling bag to the master's face. It was contorted in rage.
"Drop the net, madam," Hicks said, "or I'll kill these two."
"We can't have that," Emma said, hurling the pole and net javelin style directly at Hicks. It was an awkward weapon, but the attack surprised him enough so that Steed could lunge in and strike him in the jaw. Emma edged close as Hicks held up the canvas bag as a shield, knowing Steed wouldn't hit it. He was right. Steed resorted to attacking his legs, kicking Hick's calves and hoping the big baker wouldn't fall on top of the sack. As Hicks danced in pain Emma moved in and grabbed the sack, yanking it out of Hicks's flailing arms. It wasn't her intention, but she pulled him off balance, so tight was his grip on the sack. She rolled as he fell toward her and they both ended up on the floor clutching opposite sides of the sack. Steed stepped in, planting his rabbit's foot covered shoe on Hicks's wrist. Hicks yelled in pain and let go of the sack, bringing his other hand across his chest to grip Steed's ankle.
Emma edged away with the sack, moving to the net where one of her captives had almost freed itself. She gently gathered it up, receiving a couple bites as she untangled its claws from the mesh, then tucked it into the sack. Behind her Steed had lifted his foot off of Hicks and stepped out of the baker's reach. Hicks, in no condition to fight, rolled to his side and started to rise.
"Give it up, Hicks. Today I'm here to arrest you," Steed said, standing menacingly above him.
Emma extracted the fourth raven from the net and got it into the sack, then she climbed to her feet and lifted the surprisingly heavy bag.
"Master?" Elizabeth Mason stood in the doorway they'd come through. The other three apprentices were behind her. Steed glanced at her, noticing that Emma had secured all the ravens.
"Leave me alone," Hicks growled, his eyes flicking from Steed to Elizabeth, then back to Steed. There was no doubt in Steed's mind that this man had murdered the other apprentices. But despite what he'd just told Hicks, he had no jurisdiction here inside the Soviet embassy. It was up to Brodney to turn Hicks over to him, if he wanted to.
"I suggest you students go home now," Emma said, making eye contact with Jackson and gesturing with her head toward the foyer.
"But Master Hicks," Elizabeth said hesitantly.
"Is unlikely to be leaving any time soon," Steed said. "Mrs. Peel is right, you students get out of here."
"Come on," Jackson said, pressing past Elizabeth. He led them down the corridor toward the crowd of party guests who were unaware of the conflict down the hall. As the four students plunged into the crowd there was a shout and a thump. Steed frowned at Emma, then gestured with his head down the corridor much as she had. She nodded and they followed the students, leaving Hicks panting on the floor.
The crowd in the foyer had formed a circle. Steed and Emma pressed through them to see the focus of their attention. The four students were held by two massive, uniformed embassy security officers. Ambassador Brodney lay on the floor, his egg costume split in half lengthwise, the front half lying on the floor beside him, the back half under him like a turtle shell. He wore dark purple long underwear that emphasized his round belly and thick thighs.
"Help me up!" he cried, then caught sight of Steed and Emma and groaned in embarrassment.
"I ran into him by accident!" Callahan said, struggling against the security officer's grip.
"Of course you did," Steed said, reaching down to heave Brodney easily to his feet. "There you are, Ambassador. No harm done, right?"
"No, of course not, Steed," Brodney glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the ballroom door. The major general was standing there looking extremely displeased.
"Looks like you have bigger fish to fry than these students," Steed observed. Shall I send someone around to collect their master?"
Brodney met Steed's complacent gaze with his own panicked stare and saw steel beneath the pleasant exterior. "Yes, certainly, Steed. Send someone around. We'll see that he's cared for until then."
"And the students? There's little point in an international incident over four apprentice bakers, don't you think?" Steed's faced formed a genial grin, his eyes still piercing Brodney with clear demands.
Brodney forced a jovial laugh, "Of course not, my friend!" He turned back to the security officers and waved his hand dismissively. The officers released the students.
"Lovely party, by the way," Emma said to Brodney as she followed Steed and the apprentices out carrying the heavy bag.
"None the worse for wear, I suppose," Dennis Hope said as he studied the four ravens. They were each settled in a cage in the Tower's small avian clinic. "The doctor will have to remove the jewels tomorrow, but they should be back out there greeting the visitors by afternoon."
"Glad to hear it," Steed said. "It seems that despite my efforts, Bradford managed to get his hands on the real jewels."
"Bad luck that," Hope agreed, turning to escort them out. "But I'm sure they'll have them fixed up right in no time."
"And the impostor raven?" Emma asked as they stepped out into the cool night.
Hope groaned and Emma and Steed exchanged an amused glance under the cover of the darkness. "Bloody bugger won't leave," Hope said. "He's staked out a corner of grounds and the others aren't challenging him."
"Well," Emma said as they strolled toward the gate, "maybe some new blood is what's needed around here."
"Steed?" Emma stopped at the top of the steps, seeing that Steed was seated at his desk leaning over something. He didn't respond, so she crossed the room to him, setting her bag and coat down as she came. Up close she saw that he was examining a small, sparkling object that he held with tweezers. He had a jeweler's loupe in his eye.
"Is that what I think it is?" she asked. He sat up and let the loupe fall out of his eye into his hand. He looked up at her with a sneaky grin.
"I found it in the bottom of the bag that we had the ravens in," he explained. Holding the jewel up against his perfect Windsor knot, he added, "I thought it would make a nice tiepin."
She took the tweezers from him and held the jewel against her ring finger, "I don't know, I think it might look nice here," she said. She watched his brows rise in alarm out of the corner of her eye and grinned mischievously. "But alas, I suspect the Queen Mum might object, don't you?" She handed it back to him, then strolled back across the room to sit on the sofa. He took a moment to recover, carefully stowing the priceless jewel in a small box and putting away the loupe and tweezers. She enjoyed every second of his obvious discomfiture.
"Did Brodney hand over Hicks?" she asked as he joined her on the sofa.
"Yes. While we were returning the ravens, in fact. Our people thought it wise to act fast, since the Major General is known to be somewhat volatile. Hicks might not have survived the night after bungling the job."
"What about Bradford?"
"The security camera we installed at the nest sheds caught him feeding the jewels to the birds. That, combined with the airline ticket at Hicks's house ties him up quite tightly. I wonder if we'll hear from anyone about an exchange? He's a bit of a mystery -- he may be valuable to someone on the other side. What about the students? How are they faring?"
"Callahan's as arrogant as ever. I let him think they might be arrested. Jackson seems to have found himself, though -- you may have noticed how he took charge at the ball?"
Steed shrugged, so Emma went on, "He was terribly frightened, but the successful resolution of the case seems to have given him a boost."
"You're fond of him," Steed said, but there was no jealousy in his tone. Emma smiled.
"In a big sister way, yes," she said. "You said to come prepared for a few days away. What do you have in mind?" she asked.
"I was thinking of the shore -- long rambles along the cliffs, a gallop along the beach, seafood dinners in quiet little restaurants . . ."
"Just you and me?"
"Yes."
"No case to think about?"
"Absolutely not."
"When do we leave?"
Steed stood up and went into the bedroom, reappearing with a small suitcase. "How about now?" he asked. Emma rose and went to him, smiling with delight. He set down the bag and held his arms out so that she could step into them, lifting her face to his. "Or very shortly," he amended, placing a soft, warm kiss on her lips.
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