Murder out of the Blue (Maliha Anderson Book 1) Page 8
Temperance was in the ship’s brig, awaiting transport back to Bombay with Detective Forsyth. Now that all had been revealed she was quite unrepentant. There was little doubt she and the gallows would become intimately acquainted very soon. It was difficult to understand how a person could be so broken.
The one person unexpectedly missing was Mr Crier. She had not seen him since he had taken his leave of her this morning. She imagined he perceived their relationship as some sort of ship-board romance. She could not deny being flattered. Such a thing had never occurred to her before, but the idea was ridiculous.
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Her introspection was interrupted as the ship’s klaxon sounded three times in quick succession, and those standing in the lounge made for their seats. A few young men remained on their feet in an attitude of bravado while children were called and grabbed. Mrs Makepeace-Flynn adjusted her posture in anticipation. Maliha ensured her walking stick was to hand.
The Faraday device was disengaged and she sank deeper into her chair. There were various exclamations from around the lounge as full weight returned. She glanced about to see one of the young men climbing to his feet, a look of chagrin on his face. More disconcerting was the groaning of the ship’s structure as it settled. Here, in the depths of the vessel, the sound was quite alarming.
Those disembarking on foot formed orderly lines, but Maliha waited with Mrs Makepeace-Flynn until a steward arrived to tell them their carriage had arrived. They followed him to an area filled with horse-drawn carriages driven aboard to collect the passengers. Her earlier assessment of the state of the Makepeace-Flynn’s finances was further evidenced by the old-style growler waiting for them, now loaded with their baggage. It was drawn by a pair of chestnuts.
On the far side of the area, a hearse waited to collect the general’s body. It was not in funeral colours (that would come later), but the four black horses stood waiting. One of them pawed the deck in boredom.
As the carriage descended the ramp, the hot, dry air invaded the inside. The afternoon sun beat down and the temperature in the carriage became intense as they drove out across the vast commercial landing field. There were another two large passenger ships on the ground some distance away along with some smaller cargo ships of different design. They exited the field between large administrative buildings and the Fortress came into view.
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It was named Sigiriya in Sinhalese, the native tongue of Ceylon, which meant “Fortress in the Sky”. It had been acquired by the Empire to become the Royal Navy’s prime base because of its position roughly equidistant from Britain’s main concerns (Britain, South Africa, and Australia), while mainland India provided the workforce that Ceylon itself could not. And because of its position relative to the equator, it was a similar distance to the Queen Victoria void station above.
Sigiriya was a lump of rock—it could not be described otherwise—jutting six hundred feet from the flat landscape around it. It was encased with modern buildings that towered the same distance again. Encircling it at various heights were artillery guns on platforms.
Surrounding the Fortress itself was the Compound: a roughly circular area with a diameter of over two miles. Apart from the commercial port, there was the naval shipyard; a hospital that catered for both military and civilian needs; and a segment for the British Army, containing barracks and training ground. The governor’s residence had been relocated from Columbo ten years earlier and was now surrounded by a residential area for the great and good. Barbara’s home was there.
The Compound was contained within a concrete wall. The whole structure was reminiscent of a medieval castle but on a colossal scale.
Outside the Compound lay all manner of shops and houses created by those who could not live in the Compound but who serviced its other needs.
A shadow passed over the carriage. She looked up. A vessel bearing the black cross of the Imperial German Sky Service blocked the sun. The Zeppelins utilised the Faraday effect but used gas for their lift and only used engines for driving and manoeuvring. It was more efficient but had its risks. It was probably heading for, or returning from, German New Guinea with a refuelling stopover at the Fortress.
Mrs Makepeace-Flynn also looked out and up. Then sat back.
“Can you see if that’s the Hansa, my dear?”
Maliha squinted up. The gothic German lettering was difficult to make out against the bright sky.
“Yes, I think so.”
“Ah, good. We shall have some company tonight. Captain Voss is a cousin.”
Maliha sat back in the carriage. Barbara’s kind offer of accommodation was very welcome but this place stood on the edge of a war that was certain to come. There was nowhere for her to go, but how could she remain here?
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~ end ~
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