54
The Wild, Wild West
The Night of the Amazons
Synopsis: When Lily Fortune asks Jim and Artie to find her missing maid, Nellie, on the eve of President Grant's second inaugural our heroes find themselves up to their necks in jealousy, revenge, murder, a horrendous mind swap and a plot to blackmail the government of the United States of America.
Chapter 1
"Morning, Artie," Jim yawned.
Stretching the kinks out of his lean, muscular body, James West grinned as he caught a glimpse of his handsome reflection in the window of the parlor car. Even first thing in the morning, he cut a dashing figure ambling across the car in his elegantly cut, blue satin robe and maroon velvet slippers. Artemus, who had been up for over an hour and was already dressed, waved in his partner's general direction, but didn't look up from the slide he was examining under his microscope.
Jim took no offence. He knew Artie often got lost in his work, especially when he was entranced by something he was examining under the microscope. Personally, James found it difficult to understand how anyone could be fascinated with something so small a man could barely see it.
The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the car and Jim poured himself a cup. Moving to the sideboard warming tray, he raised the lid of a sterling silver chafing dish.
"Ummm. . . Breakfast smells great."
James dug in, scooping up a serving of fluffy scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, and a biscuit so light he had to weigh it down with butter and blackberry jam to keep it from floating off his plate. Taking a sip of coffee he unfurled the newspaper and glanced at the news before folding back the pages and perusing the sports column.
"James, take a look at this," Artie gestured excitedly toward the microscope slide. "It's incredible!"
"Arte, I just sat down, can it wait?"
"Oh. Sure. Sorry."
Artemus looked up from the slide, casting a sideways glance at Jim. It did his heart good to see his partner looking so relaxed. The week they spent in Washington, D.C. while The Wanderer was going through its annual refit was something they both looked forward to. This year, however, in addition to the usual sophisticated pleasures they enjoyed while staying in the capital, the two young men had snagged an additional bonus.
Washington was awhirl with festivities celebrating the second inauguration of President Ulysses S. Grant including the traditional inaugural parade before the official swearing-in ceremony on the steps of the capital, and the gala ball that evening.
Artie smiled at the memory of the tidings that Henrietta had brought them just yesterday. A special, "carrier-pigeon delivered" presidential invitation to the inaugural ball: "In recognition of meritorious service rendered to the President of the United States, the company of Captain James T. West and Mr. Artemus Gordon is respectfully requested at the inaugural ball and reception the evening of Tuesday, March 4, 1873 . . ."
The inaugural ball, imagine that! It was the crowning event of the Washington social season and a personal invitation from the White House was a singular honor for two lowly secret service agents.
Now all they needed were a pair of lovely ladies to accompany them.
Artie sighed. While he knew James would have no problem at all coaxing some charming young thing to come with him, Artemus couldn't help feeling a stab of disappointment. There was only one lady he longed to share this very special invitation with, and at this moment, he had no earthly idea where she was.
Lily. . . Ah, my dear, you have no idea how much I miss you.
Artie cleared his slides away and returned the microscope to its velvet lined box. Moving over to the breakfast table he warmed his cold coffee and glanced over his partner's shoulder at the newspaper. "What are you reading?"
"Sports column. You want it when I'm done?"
"Nah, hand me the entertainment column will you?"
Jim grinned and tossed his partner the section of the paper with the column he requested.
Settling into his seat, Artie took a sip of coffee and glanced down at the paper. The entertainer in him was always interested in the theater and even though James' taste usually ran to variety shows and burlesque, Artie had made it a personal quest to broaden his friend's theatrical horizons. Following the broad column of copy, his eyes settled on a short review about halfway down the page. He gasped, choking on his coffee.
Jim glanced up from his paper in alarm. "Artemus, are you okay?"
"James," rasped Artie, recovering his breath, "take a look at this. This is incredible!"
Exasperated, Jim rolled his eyes. "Artie, please, I'm trying to read here."
"Thank you, Fairy Godmother!"
Jim stared at his partner. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"James, my boy, I am fine. In fact, I'm ecstatic. Take a look at this."
With a long suffering sigh, Jim put down the paper.
"There, read that," Artie shoved the review under Jim's nose.
Curious to find out what had his partner in such an uproar so early in the morning Jim took the paper and began to read aloud: "The Nightingale of the West, a musical play in four acts opened last night for aweek long engagement at the Paris Junction Opera House. The show is a theatrical delight due in no small part to its star, Miss Lily Fortune -"
"Aha! See that?" cried Artie, snatching the paper back again. "She's here Jim, right here. Who could have guessed she would be appearing in Washington at the same time that we're here, and for a whole week!"
"Well, it's not exactly Washington, Artie."
"Oh okay, so she's in Paris Junction. That's only the next stop on the railway line before we get to the capital."
Jim sighed heavily. "And now, I suppose you'll want to stop by and catch the show."
"Of course I do, and so do you."
"Me? Oh, no you don't. I already have plans."
"Cut it out, James. Don't give me the 'put upon partner' routine. You know darn well I'd never pass up a chance to see Lily in a show, and neither would you."
A glint of humor sparkled in Jim's green eyes, and Artie, realizing he was being teased, began to laugh.
"Of course we'll go, Artie," said Jim, holding up his hands in surrender. "Far be it from me to stand between Artemus Gordon and the woman of his dreams."
"Thanks pal," Artemus grinned, then gasped as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the shiny surface of a sterling chafing dish. "Good Lord! I've got to get a haircut!" he cried. Spinning on his heel, Artie grabbed his Stetson and buffalo hide jacket from the coat stand and dashed out the door of the parlor car.
Jim stared after his partner for a moment then shrugged. "Love," he muttered. Shaking his head he picked up the paper and went back to reading the sports column in peace.
WWW Chapter 2
Jim gritted his teeth as the rented coach hit yet another pot hole. There were many forms of torture preferable to bouncing over randomly cobbled streets in a hired hack, he thought. Across the dimly lit compartment, his partner appeared to be oblivious to the bone shattering ride. Artie muttered under his breath in frustration as he struggled to retie his cravat for the third time that evening.
Finally, Jim could take it no longer. "Artie, hold still," he ordered. Grabbing the ends of the cravat's silken fabric, he expertly tied a perfect Ascot. "Now, that's perfect. Don't touch it again."
"How far is it to the theatre?" Artemus asked, nervously consulting his pocket watch.
Jim shrugged. "How do I know? I've never been there. You bought the tickets, remember?"
"Oh, yeah, that's right."
"Calm down, man," Jim grinned at his partner's impatience. "We've got plenty of time. The curtain doesn't go up for at least an hour."
Running a finger under his uncomfortably tight wing collar, Artie let out a pent up breath, laughing softly at his own nervousness. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he sat bolt upright.
"Whoa! Jim we've got to stop!"
"Why? What's the matter?
"I forgot something very important."
"Oh, no," Jim groaned. "You didn't forget the tickets, did you?"
"For heaven's sake James, of course not," Artie replied, testily. "I have the tickets right here in my vest pocket. No, its flowers, Jim! I forgot flowers. I can't very well greet Lily empty handed now can I?"
With a signal to the driver to pull over beside a roadside flower cart, Artie leapt from the coach, returning a few moments later carrying the largest bouquet of red roses Jim had ever seen. Staring in amazement at the gargantuan bouquet, he shook his head in disbelief. "Artemus, are you planning on giving those flowers to Lily or just throwing them around her neck like a Derby winner?
Artie sniffed and made a wry face. "Obviously, James, you've never been in love."
"Now, that's not true," protested Jim, "I have so… dozens of times!"
"I rest my case," replied Artie smugly.
"C'mon, Artie, it smells like a hearse in here. Are we going to the theatre or to a funeral?"
"Maybe yours if you don't stop complaining."
Jim sighed and rolled his eyes, but Artie only smiled. Settling back in his seat, he dreamed of the night to come and the intoxicating scent of Lily's rosewater and violet perfume.
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By the time their coach jolted to a halt in front of the Paris Junction Opera House Jim was desperate to escape his rose scented prison. While Artie paid their driver he launched himself onto the sidewalk, taking deep breaths of the cool evening air hoping to clear his head of the cloying fragrance of roses.
Although he and Artie had arrived well before the start of the show, Jim noticed they were not alone. In fact quite a crowd of chattering, excited people were clustered around the theatre's side entrance.
"What's all the excitement about?" he asked as Artemus joined him
Artie shrugged just as an elegant landau drawn by a pair of perfectly matched black horses rounded the corner and drew up beside the theatre.
The crowd pressed forward expectantly as an elegantly attired man sporting a carefully waxed handlebar moustache stepped down from the carriage. With a swirl of his satin lined opera cape, he pushed back the gawkers and offered his arm to a shapely brunette who emerged from the carriage wearing a fashionable flowered hat and a gown the color of daffodils.
"It's Lily! Lily Fortune!"
Artie grinned as the crowd erupted into cheers and wild applause. "That's my girl," he said, elbowing Jim in the ribs. "Leave it to Lil to make an entrance."
Lily smiled and waved. Taking the gentleman's arm she allowed him to escort her through the crowd and up the short flight of stairs to the performer's entrance. When they reached the stage door, the man suddenly grasped her gloved fingers and crushed them fervently to his lips. For an instant, Lil's smile faltered and she winced as she pulled her hand free of his iron grip.
Jim heard Artie's sharp intake of breath. "Steady," he murmured, grabbing his friend's sleeve as Artemus surged forward.
Ever the consummate performer, Lily covered the momentary awkwardness with a dazzling smile. Blowing a kiss to the crowd she deftly disengaged herself from her escort and ducked inside the building.
Mr. Mustachio, on the other hand, remained frozen in place, staring after Lily like a hound bereft of his bone. Finally, he turned and met Artie's furious glare. The two men locked stares, until Mustachio shrugged and with studied nonchalance, sauntered down the stairway. Climbing back into the waiting landau, he barked an order to the driver and the carriage pulled away from the theatre at a smart trot, disappearing down the shadowy, gas-lit street.
"Who was that guy?" asked Jim, glancing at his partner.
"Hell if I know," growled Artemus. "But one thing's for sure, he'd better keep his paws off Lily, or-"
"Hey, Artie, take it easy. He just kissed her hand."
"What?" Artemus glared at Jim incredulously. "You didn't see the way she reacted to that masher?"
Jim shook his head. "Come on, buddy," he said, putting an arm around his friend's shoulders. "How about we just go on in and enjoy the show, okay?"
With effort, James dragged Artie's gaze away from the departing carriage and steered him towards the line of people beginning to file into the theatre.
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Chapter 3
"Here you go gentlemen. Orchestra seats, center aisle, first row," said the usher. "Enjoy the show."
"Wow, James," beamed Artie, "isn't this great? Do you think Lily will be able to see me from the stage?"
Relieved his friend's good humor seemed to have returned Jim cast a sidelong glance at Artie's monster bouquet of roses. "Don't see how she could miss you, Artie," he chuckled.
Artemus deliberately ignored the jibe as the house lights began to dim.
The orchestra struck up the first strains of the overture, and Jim felt an ominous tingle in his nose that culminated in a violent sneeze.
"Bless you, Jim."
"Thanks, Artie.
The melody swelled as Jim fought an unsuccessful battle against yet another sneeze.
"James, are you going to be okay?" whispered Arte.
"Yeah, it's just a tickle, no big . . . Ah-CHOOO!"
"Jim! For heaven's sake, what is it?"
"I don't know," Jim snuffled, pulling a silk handkerchief from his vest pocket. "I think it's the roses."
Artie stared as his partner. "The roses? They've never affected you like this before."
"I've never been around so many before."
The curtain began to rise, as did Jim's uncontrollable urge to sneeze yet again.
"AH-CHOOO!"
A resounding "SHHHH!" arose from the audience as Jim shrugged sheepishly.
"Look, Artie, maybe I'd just better go."
"Okay, fine." Artie gazed at his friend in consternation. "I suppose that's preferable to having you sneeze your way through the entire performance. Sorry buddy."
Jim waved off the concern. "Don't worry about it. I'll catch up with you after the show." Ducking low to avoid obstructing the audience's view of the stage, he slid out of his seat and hurried up the aisle before another sneezing fit could overtake him.
Once out of the auditorium Jim began to feel better. Craving a cigar, he pulled a small, silver humidor from an inner vest pocket and lit up as he stepped out of the opera house. With the fragrant smoke of his fine Havana wreathing his head, James moseyed down the front steps and out onto the sidewalk.
The March evening was brisk with swirling wisps of fog diffusing the dull glow of the gas lamps, giving the street a gloomy, almost gothic air. Jim had an odd sense of being cocooned in the damp mist as it muted the sounds around him; the rattle of carriage wheels, the soft clip-clop of horse's hooves, a barking dog on the next street, the scream of a woman…
A woman screaming?
Jim whirled, but the fog muffled the sound making it difficult to determine the direction of the scream.
A second shriek galvanized him into action, sending him sprinting down the sidewalk. At the corner, he slid to a halt, and squinted into the dark alleyway behind the theatre. Silhouetted against the gaslight at the far end of the alley, a man struggled with a woman. Her attacker struck her, and the woman went limp.
Jim leapt forward, charging down the alley at top speed as the man bundled his victim's body into a waiting carriage and climbed up into the driver's box.
The woman's assailant saw him coming and whipped up the horses, but James caught a hold of the back of the coach. Pulling himself onto the roof, he sprang at the driver.
It was like hitting a brick wall.
Jim shook off the initial shock, and attacked again delivering a roundhouse punch that would have destroyed a lesser man. The giant in the driver's seat merely brushed it off. Controlling the horses with one hand he grabbed James by the front of his frilled, formal shirt and tossed him from the coach as if he weighed no more than a rag doll.
Stars exploded in Jim's head as he hit the cobblestones in front of the coach and rolled frantically out of the way to avoid being trampled beneath the horse's hooves. Breathless, holding his bruised ribs, he staggered to his feet and watched as the coach flew past, his trained agent's eye taking note of its single identifying feature. . .
WWW
"Hey, good morning, partner," said Artie, looking up from his coffee as Jim shuffled to the breakfast table. "Are you feeling any better?"
"I'll survive," Jim replied wincing as he gingerly lowered himself into his chair. "I'm pretty sure nothing's broken."
Artemus shot his friend a quizzical glance. "I'm sorry about last night … the roses and all."
Jim waved away Artie's apology. "Don't worry about it. So, tell me, how did it go with Lily last night?"
Artie shrugged and stared into his coffee cup.
"Uh, oh… What happened?"
"Nothing."
Aw, c'mon, Artie, what do you mean 'nothing'? I didn't hear you come in at all last night. I thought you and Lil-"
"Nothing happened, Jim," snapped Artie. "Not a thing!"
"Whoa! Okay, pal. Take it easy."
"I'm sorry, Jim," sighed Artemus. "I didn't mean to come off that way. It's just that I didn't even get a chance to talk to her. That mustachioed lothario was there again, hanging all over her and acting real possessive. He pounced on her the minute she got off stage and steered her right into his carriage before anybody else had a chance to say so much as 'How do you do'."
"Did she know you were there?"
Artie nodded. "She waved to me as he was hustling her out, but he didn't give her time to say anything. After that, I left the roses with the stage manager and took off to find a bar that stayed open late. I just got in a couple of hours ago and made some coffee because I couldn't sleep.
"Wow. I'm sorry to hear that, Artie."
Artemus shrugged. "Yeah, well… that's the way it goes, I guess. She's got a life and I can't expect her to sit around waiting for me to retire." Artie picked up the coffee pot and filled Jim's empty cup. "So, tell me about your night," he said, obviously anxious to change the subject. "When you didn't meet up with me after the show, I assumed you went back to the train, but you look like you've been hit by a ton of bricks."
Jim frowned. "I tried to stop a kidnapping."
"A kidnapping? Good Lord, who got kidnapped?"
"I don't know," Jim shrugged. "I was outside the playhouse having a smoke when I heard a woman scream. By the time I figured out where the scream was coming from, this huge guy was shoving her into a coach and driving off. I tried to stop him, but it was like hitting a mountain. He tossed me into the street and nearly ran me over. The only clue I have at this point is the crest painted on the carriage door. It looked like a female figure shooting a bow standing next to a tower, all painted on a black background.
"Hmmmm," Artie's eyes narrowed. "An amazon shooting a bow, quartered with a tower on a field of black. . . Well, heraldic devices were designed specifically to announce their owner's identity on the battle field. Maybe if I did some research-"
"That would be great, Artie," said Jim, shaking his head, "but we need to get the train to Washington today. As much as I'd like to get my hands on that goliath, the local authorities will have to follow up from here."
A soft knock interrupted their conversation and Artemus crossed the parlor car to open the door.
Miss Lily Fortune stood framed in the doorway.
"Good morning, Artemus." Lily's smile was like a ray of sunshine though dark rain clouds.
"Lil!" Artie gasped, drinking in the sight of her. Dressed in green silk with a peacock feathered hat and carrying a tiny black parasol, she looked lovelier than he had ever seen her.
"Good morning, James." Lily peered around Artie's thunderstruck form to wave at Jim, who grinned roguishly and waved back.
"Merciful heavens," cried Artie recovering his usual charming demeanor, "where are my manners? Won't you come in, Lily? We were just having breakfast, would you care to join us?"
Lily shook her head. Taking Artie's hand in hers she gave him a look that would have melted an iceberg in the dead of winter. "I had to come by after last night to apologize," she said, softly. "I didn't mean to go running off like that."
"Oh, think nothing of it," Artie gushed, ignoring his partner's amused snicker. "May I take your wrap?"
"Thank you, but no. I really can't stay." At Artie's crestfallen look, Lily squeezed his hand. "Artemus, please, I need your help."
"My help? What do you mean, Lil, are you in some kind of trouble?" Artie asked, concern creasing his brow.
"No, not me, it's my dresser, Nellie. She's disappeared. I was hoping you and James would help me look for her."
"When did she go missing?" asked Jim.
"Last night, I think. She wasn't in my dressing room when I came off stage, and no one has seen her this morning. It's not like her."
"Have you contacted the police?"
"No, not yet," replied Lily. "Oh, Artemus, it could be nothing, but it's just not like Nell to leave without telling anyone where she's going."
Jim and Artie exchanged a look.
"Lil, I don't want to upset you," said Artie quietly, "but Jim witnessed a kidnapping last night outside the theatre."
Lily's eyes widened. Her hands flew to her face in alarm.
"Did Nellie know anyone who would want to hurt her?" asked Jim. "A jealous boyfriend, maybe?"
"No. Nellie's life is the theatre, James. She doesn't have time for outside relationships."
"Well, this woman was overpowered by a man who drove a coach with some kind of crest painted on the door," said Artie. "Does that sound familiar?"
Lily shook her head.
Artie shot a pleading glance at Jim, who sighed and nodded. "Lily I promise you, James and I will do whatever we can to help you find Nellie."
"Oh, thank you, Artemus!" cried Lily, impulsively kissing him on the cheek. "I knew I could count on you."
"Well… er…sure, Lil," Artie stammered. "James and I are happy to help. Aren't we Jim?"
"Delighted," replied his partner with a sardonic grin.
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Chapter 4
Artie tied his paint gelding, Chief to the back of Lil's rented rig as James watched from the back of the Wanderer. After agreeing to help Lily find her missing maid, Jim had volunteered to take the train on to Washington while Artie remained behind to begin the search. When James returned, the two agents would catch up with each other at the Paris Junction Hotel where they would stay until Nellie was found. Both men felt sure the missing girl was still somewhere in the area and would be fairly easy to locate.
With a parting wave to Jim, Artie jumped up onto the seat beside Lily and took the reins. Clucking to the carriage horse, they took off at a smart clip, heading back into town.
In spite of a chilly breeze it was a delightful, sunny March morning and Artie couldn't help thinking it would have been a wonderful day for a picnic. My perfect chance to ask Lil to the inaugural ball.
Of course, under the circumstances that was out of the question. Poor Lil was far too worried about her missing friend to even consider going out.
Artie sighed. Whenever it came to Lily, his timing always stunk. Stealing a glance at the beautiful brunette, he caught her staring at him.
Lily dropped her eyes, her blush enhancing the delicate color of her cheeks and lips.
"A penny for your thoughts," he said, rushing to fill the awkward silence. Arrgh! Brilliantly done, Artemus, you silver-tongued devil.
Fortunately, Lily was too preoccupied with her own musings to notice his deplorable lack of wit. "I was just wondering," she murmured, "who in the world would want to kidnap Nellie?"
"Now, Lil, we don't know that she actually was kidnapped yet."
"Maybe not, but it does look likely, doesn't it, Artemus? No one else from the troupe is missing." Lily glanced down at her folded hands. "Besides, there is something I didn't tell you about Nellie that could account for her being in the alley while the show was going on."
"Really? What would that be?"
"She smokes." Lily sighed. "It's an un-ladylike habit and I've tried to persuade her to quit many times, but Nel's very stubborn."
Artemus stifled a grin. While Nellie's smoking could have certainly accounted for her being in the alley at the right time, it didn't provide him with any additional clues. "Well, be that as it may," he said, reassuringly, "Jim and I won't quit until we find out what has happened to her. I can promise you that."
Lily flashed him a grateful smile.
"There is one question I do have, though."
"What's that, Artemus?"
"How much do you really know about that gentleman you were with last night?"
Lily blinked up at Artie in surprise. "Who? Oh, you mean Stefan?"
"Stefan?" Artie's jaw clenched.
"Count Stefan Dragos." Lily laughed. "Oh, really Artemus, you certainly don't think he had anything to do with Nellie's disappearance?"
"I don't know," Artemus replied, sharply. "Right now I don't have a whole lot to go on. Anything you can tell me might be helpful."
Lily frowned and turned away.
Instantly, Artie felt a stab of guilt. Even if the information about his rival was relevant, he knew his reasons for asking were not purely motivated by a desire to help Nellie. Besides, it was clear he was making Lily uncomfortable.
"Look Lil, I'm sorry, I-"
"No! You're right, Artemus." Lily turned to face him, her wide, dark eyes clouded with doubt. "It's true. I really don't know much about him. Nellie and I shared a sitting compartment with him on the train from Denver and he was very charming. In his country he's a prince, or at least he was until a coup deposed his father. His uncle took over the throne and Stefan barely escaped with his life. Since coming to this country he's gone by the title of 'Count Dragos'. From what I could gather from our conversations, he spends most of his time traveling, keeping up with his business ventures."
"What kind of business ventures?"
Lily's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Well, as I recall, he told us he's a partner in an exclusive finishing school just outside of Paris Junction called Madam von Orlov's Academy for Young Ladies. From what I've heard, the school is quite fashionable and attracts the Washington elite. Many high-ranking government officials, including even a number of Congressmen and Senators have daughters enrolled there.
"Is that all you know about him?"
"I'm afraid so. But, Artemus, I really don't think he has anything to do with this. He's already promised to do what he can to help me find Nellie."
"You told him?"
"Of course. He was with me when I discovered she was missing."
"I see," replied Artie, dryly.
"Oh, Artemus please don't be angry with me," begged Lily. "I'm so worried about Nellie."
Artie sighed. "Of course you are Lil. I'm not angry, just a bit frustrated. Things don't make much sense right now, but it's still early in the investigation. Jim and I need to do some digging around and when we get some answers we'll get her back to you safe and sound."
Lily smiled. "I know you will. You and James are the best at what you do and if anyone can find Nellie, you can." Sliding over on the seat she rested her head on Artie's shoulder, driving everything from his mind but the warmth of her body pressed against his.
For Artemus, the remainder of the trip passed in a pleasant haze. All too soon, they trotted up to the front of the opera house and he pulled the rig to a halt. Coming around to the passenger's side he lifted Lily down from the carriage, his hands lingering perhaps a trifle longer than was proper around her slender waist as she hugged him. Then, slipping out of his arms, Lily hurried up the steps to the stage entrance. At the top of the stairway she whirled, her green skirt belling in the breeze as she blew him a kiss, and then disappeared into the theatre.
Artie waited, savoring the moment before he climbed back into the rig and clucked to the carriage horse. As they pulled away from the theatre, his thoughts returned to the problem at hand.
Sefan Dragos, he mused. Claims to be European royalty and a deposed prince, no less.
Artie shook his head. As much as he hated to admit it, Dragos was a pro. Even the great Artemus Gordon couldn't have come up with a better scam if he'd wanted to make himself irresistible to women. After all, thought Artie with a grin, he'd pulled the same con himself once or twice . . .
All in the line of duty, of course.
In any case, his mind was made up. Once he returned Lily's rented carriage to the livery, he was going to take a ride out to Madam von Orlov's Academy for Young Ladies and have a look around.
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**Act 1: Scene 3**
The stage door closed behind her with a soft thud. Leaning back against the warm wood Lily closed her eyes and conjured up the memory of her head resting against Artie's strong shoulder. It had taken her years to become successful and independent but even she had to admit, it felt good to have someone in her life she could trust completely.
Artemus Gordon was that special someone.
Of course, the fact that he is also a damn attractive man doesn't hurt a bit, now does it, Lillian? She smiled.
The tinny sound of a piano echoing in the empty theatre meant rehearsal was already underway and she was late. Rushing to drop off her reticule and wrap in her dressing room, she nearly collided with Hal Evans, the company's stage manager.
"Miss Lily. Thank heavens," said Hal with obvious relief. "With Miss Nellie missing, I was beginning to worry when you were late for rehearsal."
Lily smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Hal. I had an errand to run this morning. I'll be onstage in a minute."
"Great. Oh, by the way, this came for you." Hal pulled a small, white envelope from his pocket. "A messenger delivered it this morning. Said it was from that Count Dragos fella and it was urgent you get it."
Lily tore open the envelope and read the hastily scrawled message: 'Lily: I have located your maid. My coach is standing by to take you to her and will pick you up in front of the opera house. Stefan.'
"Hal, I have to leave again," said Lily. "Count Dragos has found poor Nellie and I have to go fetch her right away. Tell my understudy she'll have to take my place at rehearsal, but I should be back soon."
"Sure thing," Hal grinned, hurrying off. "Everybody will be relieved to have Miss Nellie back."
"Me too," breathed Lily, gratefully.
Oh, my goodness, Artemus! I have to let him know Nellie's been found.
Lily took off running. When she got back out to the street, there was no sign of Artie and no time to send a messenger to the livery as a coach drawn by a pair of black horses pulled out of the alley and stopped in front of the theatre. The coachman tipped his hat, and then hopped down from the box to open the door for her.
With a rueful glance down the street, Lily stepped up into the coach's darkened compartment.
"Stefan, why is it so dark in here?" she asked, raising the tasseled, leather shade.
Sunlight flooded the interior of the coach and Lily blinked then drew back in alarm at the sight of a cloaked figure sitting across from her holding a derringer.
"Miss Lily Fortune, I presume," the shrouded figure purred. "I've heard so much about you, I'm delighted to finally make your acquaintance."
"Who are you?" whispered Lily, staring down the barrel of the small but deadly pistol.
Never wavering, the gun remained on target as the cloaked figure's hood fell back, revealing a striking middle aged woman with vivid, auburn hair. The woman pulled a small breathing mask from her reticule as a murky, yellowish gas began to fill the compartment. Lily collapsed onto the seat as her captor stared down at her with calculating, ice-blue eyes.
"My name is Doctor Faustina von Orlov," the woman replied fitting the mask over her nose and mouth, "and you and I, my dear, are about to embark on a wonderful adventure together."
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Chapter 5
The sign read: MADAM VON ORLOV'S ACADEMY FOR YOUNG LADIES.
Artie circled Chief around in order to study it more closely. The crest painted beneath the name of the school certainly seemed to fit the description of the one Jim had seen on the coach the night of the kidnapping. If he could find that coach somewhere on the school's property, it would go a long way to confirming his suspicion the mysterious Count Dragos was the kidnapper.
And if that's the case, he thought, Lily herself could be in danger.
The red arrow painted on the sign pointed to a narrow road that disappeared down a tunnel of picturesque moss covered oaks. Artie nudged Chief with his heel cantering down the dirt track until he came to a deep gully lined with cottonwood trees. He turned down into the gully and dismounted. Hidden from view of the road he tied the paint horse to a tree, and pulled his field make-up kit from the saddle roll.
Although he wasn't certain Dragos would remember him from their brief encounter at the opera house, it was always best to assume the possibility. Working quickly, he applied a touch of white grease paint to create greying temples, then applied mutton chops and a thick moustache to age his features. Moments later he emerged from the gully completely transformed. Stripping a sturdy oak branch of its leaves and twigs to create a credible walking stick, he began to stroll down the lane, whistling a jaunty tune.
Reconnaissance on foot would allow him an opportunity to get a better lay of the land then would be possible on horseback, but he had to admit it also gave him a chance to savor the crisp, early spring morning.
Standing proudly amidst stately Virginia oaks, the academy had the genteel air of a prosperous plantation. Acres of fenced meadow land surrounded the sprawling two-story brick manor house that Artie assumed housed the school, and he noted the well-constructed stable and numerous outbuildings scattered across the property.
The only architectural feature he thought out of place was a strange, crenellated, stone clock tower. The odd structure dominated the campus, and looked as if it would have been more at home in a Norman keep or gothic castle than in the gently rolling countryside of northern Virginia.
Could this be the tower depicted on the school's crest?Artie made a mental note to check it out more closely when he got a chance.
A bugle call and the thunder of galloping hooves brought Artemus to a halt. Curious, he watched as a unit of uniformed cadets suddenly broke from a stand of trees on the far side of the meadow and galloped across the open field. Jumping their mounts over a series of obstacles, they wheeled and came cantering back in formation, two by two.
Artie let out a low whistle of admiration. Those lads can ride. As they trotted past him, however, his admiration turned to astonishment. From the way their uniforms clung to their curves, Artemus realized the "cadets" were not boys at all, but young women.
Good Lord, women practicing cavalry maneuvers? He had heard the academy's curriculum was progressive, but why provide the daughters of elite Washington households with military training?
Burning with curiosity, Artemus forced himself to maintain his leisurely pace. Sauntering up the driveway; he climbed the steps to the front door of the school and knocked. A few moments later, a faded looking woman wearing a high-necked, black frock answered.
Artie flashed his most charming smile.
"Good morning, Madam," he said, removing his hat and affecting a slightly lisping, upper-class British accent. "Arthur P. Gordon, Esquire, at your service. Do I have the pleasure of addressing the Headmistress?"
"Heavens no, sir," the woman replied. "I'm Flora Potts, the Headmistress's secretary. How can I help you, Mr. Gordon?"
Artie spread his hands apologetically. "Forgive me for arriving on your doorstep in such a sorry state, Miss Potts, but one of my carriage horses went lame at the end of your lane. I left my driver to tend to him while I walked the rest of the way."
"Poor man, you must be chilled," she exclaimed, opening the door for him. "I'm afraid the Headmistress is out, but you're welcome to wait for her in the parlor."
"Thank you," lisped Artie, stepping inside, "but I was actually hoping to have a quick tour of your school. I'm considering enrolling my niece, you see. Your establishment has come highly recommended."
"Oh, of course, Mr. Gordon," beamed Miss Potts. "If you don't mind my company, I will be more than happy to show you around."
Artie nodded and smiled gratefully.
He let the secretary lead the way as he admired the grand staircase that dominated the foyer, and glanced into the cozy parlor filled with overstuffed furniture. Miss Potts turned down a long corridor and showed him the large dining room where the girls took their meals, and then began opening doors leading to various classrooms.
It took every ounce of Artie's concentration to keep focused on the tour.
Every door opened on classrooms filled with beautiful young women studying poetry, painting, playing musical instruments and dancing, practicing all the usual feminine arts one would expect to be taught at an elite finishing school.
Artie was stunned, therefore, when at the end of the corridor Miss Potts opened a door into a small gymnasium where a class was being conducted in what appeared to be a combination of jujitsu and gymnastics similar to the training secret service agents received before going out in the field.
Potts then led him back outside to a firing range where they watched another group of girls practicing marksmanship with both rifles and pistols.
But what astonished Artie most was when they stopped by the huge riding arena directly behind the school to watch the "cadets" he had seen jumping fences earlier being drilled in riding precise, light cavalry formations.
What in the world was going on here? He wondered.
"I say, Madam," Artemus exclaimed, playing the outraged, aristocratic Englishman to the hilt, "I am astonished at your curriculum. Frankly, I am shocked. How can you actually encourage young ladies to use firearms, not to mention participate in strenuous activities like jujitsu, and riding astride like cavalrymen? It's highly irregular!"
Before Miss Potts could formulate a reply, the man who had been teaching the riding lesson drew his mount to a halt in front of them and dismounted. Tall and powerfully built, Stefan Dragos moved with a preemptory arrogance that made Artie's hackles rise. "Forgive my intrusion," he said, "but I could not help overhearing this gentleman's concerns and would like an opportunity to address them."
"Of course," the secretary replied, smiling nervously. "Mr. Gordon, this concludes our tour. I'm sure Count Dragos will answer any questions you may care to ask. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have duties to attend to inside." Picking up her skirts, Potts scurried away, leaving the two men to eye each other like a pair of roosters preparing for a cockfight.
"Count?" Artemus arched a bushy eyebrow.
"Allow me to introduce myself, properly" said Dragos, bowing from the waist and snapping his shiny, booted heels together. "Count Stefan Dragos. I am part owner of this establishment."
"I see," sniffed Artie, affecting an air of thinly veiled disapproval. "Then I assume you are at least partly responsible for what is being taught here?"
"I take it you do not approve of our curriculum, Mr. . . . Gordon, was it?"
"Arthur P. Gordon. . . Esquire," replied Artie with a cool smile and a bow of his own that was just short of mocking.
Drago's lips thinned with annoyance beneath his stiffly waxed moustache. "Well, Mr. Gordon," he replied frostily, "allow me to explain. This school takes a very progressive attitude toward women and their education. The world is changing, and women must be educated to prepare for those changes."
"Really? And what "changes" would those be, exactly?" asked Arte, curious in spite of himself.
A bugle call cut short the Count's reply as the cadets who had been practicing in the ring trotted their horses into a line for their instructor's inspection and critique.
"Forgive me, Mr. Gordon," Dragos snapped, "but I must return to the lesson." Swinging into the saddle, he glared down at Artie. "We are very proud of our cadets, sir. In fact, our school has been invited to march in the President's inaugural parade tomorrow and we are quite busy. Shall I summon Miss Potts to show you out?"
"Please don't bother," shrugged Artie, "I'm sure I can find my own way."
With a curt nod, Dragos wheeled his horse and galloped back to the lesson.
As he watched the Count review his "troops" a familiar prickle of uneasiness crept up Artie's spine. Why did he find the idea of Dragos and his cadets riding in the inaugural parade tomorrow so disturbing?
It could be he was making a mountain out of a molehill, but he hadn't survived for so long in his profession by ignoring his instincts. Although he didn't know if the missing girl and the drilling debutantes were connected, he was definitely going to find out.
Artemus, my boy, I believe it's time to take the unofficial, unguided tour of Madam von Orlov's Academy and find out exactly what's really going on here.
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The black coach pulled to a halt in front of the school.
Pulling back into the shadows of a tall hedge, Artie watched as the driver, an incredibly tall, powerfully built man climbed down from the box and opened the door for his passengers. The coach fitted the description of the one used in the kidnapping perfectly, so the driver had to be the same giant James encountered. Still, there was something about the man's odd, shuffling gait that triggered a particularly disturbing set of memories.
Artemus had very little time to ponder his reaction to the driver, as two heavily cloaked female figures stepped down from the coach's dark interior. Hoods concealed their features, but Artie noticed the taller woman leaned heavily on the arm of her smaller companion, even slumping against her as they climbed the steps and disappeared inside the building.
Unable to follow the women without being seen, he waited until the driver was occupied with climbing back up onto the box, then quickly opened the door and jumped into the coach as it pulled away. When they reached the stables Artie crawled out, and quietly climbed the ladder into the hayloft while the driver tended to the horses. From that vantage point, his clear view of the mysterious driver quickly confirmed his suspicions.
There could be no doubt, the man was Miklos, henchman and assistant to the brilliant but mad Dr. Faustina.
Although Miklos was a crippled mute, and appeared to be nothing more than a servant, Artemus knew better. The man was highly intelligent, and had actually acted as the doctor's assistant, helping her to create duplicates from re-animated corpses, first of Jim, and then of Artemus himself. Dr. Faustina had planned to use the replicates as walking time bombs rigged to explode during meetings of high ranking government officials in New Orleans. Even President Grant became a target when he denied the doctor's request for a million dollars in government funding to continue her nefarious experiments. (TNOT Big Blast).
Once he and Jim discovered what she was up to, they had been able to foil Faustina's murderous schemes, but the mad doctor and her accomplice never stood trial for their crimes. It was assumed they perished in a fire that destroyed Faustina's laboratory, and reanimating equipment. The case had been closed
But now it appeared the doctor had somehow been able to use her skills to accomplish another feat of "resurrection".
Artie shook his head in disbelief. Even if that was so, what was Faustina's henchman doing at the academy?
Hidden in the shadowy hayloft, he watched Miklos unhitch the team and lead each horse to its stall. Minutes ticked by but when the giant didn't return from stabling the last animal, Artie climbed down from the loft.
Someone that huge doesn't just vanish into thin air. There has to be another way out.
At the last stall in the row, Artie slid back the bolt and stepped inside.
A black gelding stopped chewing his ration of oats and stared at him with huge, brown eyes. "Whoa, big fella," Artie whispered. Reaching into his coat pocket, he fished out a couple of pieces of a carrot he kept for Chief. The horse munched happily on the carrot bits while Artie felt the walls of the stall for hidden panels and pushed around beneath the straw until his boot hit something. The hollow sound of wood echoed beneath his feet, as the toe of his boot caught on the handle to a trapdoor hidden under a pile of hay in a dark corner of the stall.
Artie pulled up on the door, and peered down a dimly lit stairway. Cautiously stepping down, he closed the trapdoor behind him, and descended the stairs.
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Chapter 6
Doctor Faustina von Orlov shivered as she hung up her hooded cloak and tossed a knitted shawl around her shoulders.
It had been difficult to adjust to Virginia's temperamental spring weather after the sultry warmth of New Orleans, but as she chafed her hands by the fireplace in her office parlor, she realized that soon every sacrifice she had been forced to endure in the last two years would be rewarded.
Faustina smiled.
Reluctant to leave the warmth of the fire, she tugged her shawl more closely around her body and moved across the room to sit at her ornate Florentine writing desk. Placing her derringer in the top drawer, she pulled out the school's ledger book and perused the orderly columns of figures marching down the page. With a sigh, she dipped her ostrich plumed pen in the inkwell, and calmly began making a series of new entries.
To the casual observer, sitting at her writing desk, entering figures into the school's ledger, Faustina would have appeared the very picture of a typical finishing school headmistress. Nothing about her would have given the faintest clue she was capable of kidnapping, inciting mayhem, and even committing murder without the slightest twinge of conscience.
A soft knock at the door to her office did not interrupt the scratching of her quill across the ledger sheet.
"Come in," she said without looking up from her task.
Flora Potts entered, wheeling in a tea cart piled high with sandwiches and cookies. "Cook thought you'd be hungry after being out all morning, Madam," she said smiling brightly. "She made you some lunch."
"Thank you, Potts. Put it over there," replied Faustina gesturing to the office's sitting area in front of the fireplace. "The count will be joining me shortly. Is there anything else?"
"Well, we did have a visitor this morning," the secretary replied, "a British gentleman who was considering enrolling his niece."
"Yes?"
"I gave him a tour but he had questions about the curriculum."
"Did he?" replied Faustina, absently.
"He did indeed," said Miss Potts with a sniff. "Well, I let the Count cover all that."
"Good. Did the gentleman leave his calling card?"
"I have it right here." Potts pulled the small, white card from her pocket. "Ah, yes… Mr. Arthur P. Gordon, Esquire."
Faustina glanced up sharply. "Gordon?"
"Yes. Arthur P. Gordon. Do you know him, Madam?"
"No," Faustina shook her head thoughtfully. "I don't think so. Gordon is a common name."
Potts nodded and handed her the card. "Will there be anything else, Madam?"
"Nothing at the moment, Miss Potts, but if you see Miklos, would you send him to me?"
"Of course."
Potts pushed the tea cart to the sitting area then bustled to the door, opening it to find Stefan Dragos standing in the doorway. The secretary sketched a curtsy, and brushed past him quickly as Faustina looked up from entering her figures.
"Stefan!" She flushed with pleasure at the sight of the handsome man, but her smile quickly faded when she noticed how he was dressed. "Why are you dressed for riding? I thought the lesson wasn't until this afternoon?"
Dragos didn't reply. Sauntering into the office he went straight for the brandy decanter, and poured himself a glass. With studied indifference he flopped down in a chair, throwing a well-muscled leg over the arm.
Hiding her annoyance, Faustina rose from her seat and walked over to the sitting area. "I asked you a question, Stefan," she said pleasantly. "Isn't the riding lesson this afternoon?"
"I rescheduled it," Dragos replied, taking a sip of brandy.
In an effort to maintain her composure, Faustina concentrated on filling two plates with sandwiches.
"Oh? May I ask why?"
Dragos didn't look at her, but refused the plate she held out to him. "Because I'm taking Lily on a picnic this afternoon," he replied, calmly.
Faustina flung down the sandwiches. "Stefan, this is too much!" she cried. "How can you continue this flirtation when the girls' graduation is so rapidly approaching? They will never be ready if you continue to take time away from your commitments here at the academy to entertain that actress!"
Dragos laughed at her display of jealousy. "My dear 'Tina, you needn't concern yourself. The girls will perform perfectly. I have no doubt they will do anything we order them to do. They will have no choice."
He tossed back the last of his drink and rose to his feet. Pulling Faustina into his arms, Dragos kissed her.
The doctor yielded eagerly to his embrace, but he broke off the kiss abruptly, leaving her confused and fuming as he swaggered across the room to open the door.
In the hallway, Miklos stood with his hand poised to knock.
Dragos took an involuntary step backward as the giant loomed over him blocking his path, but he quickly recovered. With a sneer he shouldered past, and pushed through the doorway without as much as a backward glance.
A spark of pure hatred glowed in the depths of Miklos' amber eyes as he watched the count disappear down the hallway.
"Miklos, come here!"
The sound of Faustina's voice snapped the giant back to attention. He turned to his mistress, ready to do her bidding no matter what the task.
The dog-like devotion in her assistant's eyes was a salve to Faustina's bruised ego, but she moved quickly back to her desk, covering her struggle to regain her composure. "Miss Fortune is no doubt still exhausted from her journey," she said finally. "Have you taken her to the tower room?"
Miklos nodded enthusiastically.
"What about the other girl? Has she been found and secured?"
This time the nod was slower, somehow more final.
"Excellent. Oh, Miklos," Faustina's cold blue eyes sparkled excitedly, "All our plans are about to come to fruition. Soon we will leave this horrid place with no more worries about where to find the money to fund my research and no more interference from that wretched actress." She allowed herself a feline smile. "Still, I wish I could be there to see the look on Stefan's face when his precious Lily stands him up for their little picnic!"
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At the bottom of the stone stairway Artemus stopped in confusion.
A maze of corridors branched off in different directions, running underground beneath the academy. Although surprisingly well lit using the experimental incandescent light technology he had read about, Artie had no idea which passageway Miklos would have been likely to take, or even what he was looking for, exactly. One thing he was certain of though, if Dr. Faustina was involved in any way with happenings at the academy, he had to find out what she was up to and put a stop to it.
Alright, Artemus, let's do this scientifically. Eeeny, Meeny, Miney, Moe. . .
He shrugged and chose a corridor that doglegged into another hallway flanked by what appeared to be rows of locked storerooms.
Okay, wrong choice. Back to square one.
Artie was about to turn around and retrace his steps when he noticed another hallway branching off the one he was following. This corridor was much longer than the others. As he turned the corner, he encountered a set of double doors immediately to his left, and could see another set of double doors at the far end of the hallway. To his surprise, he found the doors on his left were unlocked. He swung them open to reveal a large dormitory with neat rows of cots lining the walls. As he stepped quietly into the room, he noticed light from the hallway glinted off a circlet of metal resting on the pillow of one of the beds.
He picked the object up to examine it more closely, and an icy chill ran down his spine. Artie realized the last time he'd seen a contraption like this it had surrounded the head of a reanimated replica of himself in Dr. Faustina's laboratory in New Orleans. (TNOT Big Blast)
A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach intensified as he realized every cot in the dormitory had an identical device resting on each pillow.
Replacing the metal headband he left the dormitory, and hurried to the second set of doors at end of the hallway. To his dismay, they opened into a well-equipped laboratory filled with chemical experiments in progress as well as banks of exotic looking electrical equipment. There was even a cell in one corner that looked as if it was just waiting to hold an unwilling test subject.
Artie gulped.
Well, I guess that answers the question about Dr. Faustina being here at the academy.
But why would she resurface at a fancy girl's school? It was puzzling, not only because Artemus knew the dear doctor's interests had always been far from academic; but because the deeper he looked into happenings at Madam Von Orlov's Academy the more questions he seemed to find.
What he needed now was to start finding some answers.
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Artemus wasn't sure when he first became aware of the sound of muffled sobbing.
He'd been shaken up so much by the discovery of the laboratory that at first he'd dismissed it as merely his imagination playing tricks, but no, there it was again
Where was it coming from? Artie turned full circle trying to get a fix on it.
He knew he was alone. There were no other rooms off the hallway, just the dormitory and the lab, but as he moved down the hallway the sobs increased in intensity and volume. Finally, unable to think of anything else to do, he knocked on the wall with the butt of one of his pistols.
The sobbing stopped.
Artemus froze then knocked on the bricks again.
This time, his knock was answered with desperate hammering from the other side.
"Help me!" A muffled cry came from behind the masonry.
Good Lord, there's someone trapped behind the wall!
"Hello in there," Artie called. "It's okay. I'm going to help you."
"Please hurry," the voice answered. "It's getting so hard to breathe."
"Hang on. I'll get you out, but you have to do exactly as I tell you."
Artie popped a button from his jacket that contained a concentrated explosive. Sticking it to the bricks using a dab of left over facial putty from his make-up kit, he attached a thin fuse pulled from the hem of his embroidered vest, and struck a match.
"Get down as far as you can," he warned. Lighting the fuse, he hit the floor.
The charge went off, echoing loudly in the confines of the hallway. As the smoke cleared, Artie leapt to his feet and rushed to the smoking hole to find a girl, choking on smoke and brick dust, crawling out of the rubble.
"Are you okay?" he asked reaching down to help her to her feet.
Instead of a reply, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
"Oh, thank god!" she gasped when she finally released him. "You're human. I thought you were the Angel of Death come to release me from my earthly prison."
Artie stared down at the pretty, dark haired girl in his arms and grinned roguishly. "Well," he replied, "Artemus Gordon has played many roles in his life, but so far the 'Angel of Death' hasn't been one of them."
At the sound of his name, the girl's hazel eyes went wide and she quickly released him from her embrace. "Lordie," she cried, "You're not Miss Lily's Artemus, are you?"
"My name's Artemus Gordon, if that's what you're asking. May I ask who you are, Miss…?
"Blaine. Eleanor Blaine, but everyone calls me Nellie." The girl stuck out her hand, then withdrew it, awkwardly. "Well, I suppose we are a bit beyond a handshake, aren't we Mr. Gordon?" she blushed.
"You're Nellie?" exclaimed Artemus. "You were kidnapped. Lily sent me to look for you! "
"I was," the girl replied, putting on the shoe she'd used to hammer on the wall, "but it was a case of mistaken identity, I think."
"What do you mean?"
Before Nellie could explain, the sound of alarm bells filled the hallway. "We'll have to continue this conversation some other time," Artie shouted, grabbing her by the hand. "Let's get out of here!"
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Chapter 7
It was well past mid-afternoon when James West galloped back into Paris Junction. Arriving at the hotel where he and Artie had agreed to meet, he was surprised when the desk clerk informed him there was no Artemus Gordon registered. Thinking Artie could still be with Lily, he rode to the opera house where he found the harried stage manager, Hal Evens, in the midst of preparations for the evening's performance.
"Sorry, Mr. West, but I can't tell you anything about your partner," said Evens as Jim followed him backstage. "And I haven't seen Miss Fortune since this morning. Not since that Count Dragos fella sent her a message saying that he'd found Nellie. I think Miss Lily must have gone off with him in his coach."
"You said the note claimed Dragos had located Nellie," Jim squinted at the stage manager. "Did he say where?"
"Nope. It just said Miss Lily had to come with him to get her." Evens face creased with worry. "She asked me to have her understudy rehearse her part, but I don't think she really thought she'd miss the performance. She never has before."
Jim frowned. "Any idea where they could have gone?"
At first, Evens shook his head then a thought seemed to occur to him "Wait! I did hear Nellie say once that Dragos was part owner of a fancy girl's finishing school, Madam von Orlov's Academy for Young Ladies. I think it's just outside of town somewhere."
James thanked Evans and hurried out of the theatre.
Back at the hotel, he got directions to Madam von Orlov's Academy from the desk clerk, and left a message telling Artie and Lilly where he was going in case they showed up looking for him.
"Seems like everybody's lookin' for Miss Lily today," said the desk clerk with a wink.
"What do you mean?"
Faced with Jim's chilly stare, the clerk gulped. "Nuthin' Mister, it's just that Miss Lily seems to have a lot of admirers, that's all. There was a guy here earlier with a picnic basket asking for her, but she was out. He left pretty steamed."
Sounds like Lil had a date, thought Jim, but if that was the case, she must have been pretty sure she'd be back in time to keep the engagement. Where in the hell could Dragos have taken her?
Untying his black stallion, Ace, from the hitching post outside the hotel, Jim swung up into the saddle.
Madam von Orlov's was a slim lead, but at least it gave him a direction to ride. Maybe Artie had already figured out what was happening, and managed to follow Lily and Dragos to wherever Nellie was being held.
Jim certainly hoped so, because this whole affair was starting to show signs of turning into a wild goose chase. So far, he had very little to go on, and a hell of a lot of unanswered questions, but as soon as he got his hands on this Count Dragos character he was going to start getting some answers.
Turning Ace around, he galloped back out to the main road.
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Stefan Dragos leapt off his lathered mount and tossed the reins to a stable hand.
Damn that woman! How could she have made such a fool of him?
If they had been in his country she never would have dared treat him in such a fashion. He would have seen her punished for her lack of respect. Perhaps even brought before him in chains . . . stripped and then whipped for her insolence—
"Count Dragos, sir."
So caught up in his titillating daydream, Dragos hadn't even noticed the cadet standing at attention in front of him. At least here was one female who showed him the proper respect, he thought.
"What is it, cadet?" he snapped.
The girl flinched at his tone, but quickly recovered her military bearing.
"Intruders in the labyrinth, sir," she replied, "but we've captured them."
Dragos froze. "Intruders? How did they get in?"
"We're questioning them now, sir."
"Good. Take me to them, cadet," he ordered. "I have a few questions of my own."
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Artie and Nellie's flight down the hallway had been cut short when a cadre of cadets armed with rifles stepped into their path, and blocked off the corridor.
Under other circumstances, Artemus might have put up a fight, but this time he knew he couldn't.
Although well drilled, the cadets were still only students of the Academy, young women who were as much victims of Faustina and Dragos plotting as Nellie herself.
No, this time, he had no choice but to surrender.
And surrender he did, thought Artie with chagrin. Not only his gun belt and sleeve derringer, but also his hat, coat and vest which carried a variety of devices that could have come in handy when attempting an escape.
Now he and Nellie sat on the floor of the corridor, tied together back to back as Stefan Dragos frowned down at them.
"Alright, Gordon, what were you and Ms. Blaine doing wandering around down here?" he demanded.
"You're a fine one to be asking us such questions," snapped Nellie. "You're the one who kidnapped me! Mr. Gordon was only trying to help me get out of here."
"Kidnapped you?" Dragos frown deepened. "What are you blathering on about woman? I did no such thing."
"Quiet, Nellie…" hissed Artie.
Nellie shook her head, stubbornly. "No, Artemus, I will not be quiet. I think he was really trying to kidnap Miss Lily, but nabbed me by mistake. Isn't that what happened? Well, isn't it?"
Dragos turned, leveling a suspicious glare at Artie. "Artemus? I thought you said your name was Arthur. Arthur P. Gordon."
"His name is Artemus Gordon," replied Nellie. "He's Miss Lily's friend, and just so happens to be a Secret Service agent. What do you think of that?"
Artie groaned.
"Secret Service?" Dragos' dark eyes glittered with fury. "Secure these two prisoners in the holding cell and await further instructions." Then he spun around and stalked away.
The two cadets who had been standing by during the interrogation prodded Artie and Nellie to their feet with the muzzles of their rifles, and marched them back down the corridor in the direction of the laboratory.
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Chapter 8
Angry looking storm clouds were gathering on the western horizon as Jim approached the turn-off to Madam von Orlov's Academy. Reining Ace in, he pulled his jacket collar up to ward off the chill, and took a closer look at the sign swinging in the breeze.
The crest painted below the lettering immediately caught his eye. Maybe the lead to Madam von Orlov's wasn't as slim as he'd thought.
The lane of oak trees made a gloomy tunnel as the rising wind moaned through creaking branches.
Ace tossed his head and pranced sideways nervous about entering the spooky lane, but Jim spoke softly to the spirited animal stroking his neck until, reassured, Ace danced forward.
Suddenly, the stallion snorted and pricked his ears. Over the rush of the wind, Jim heard the sound of a horse's whinny.
James gave Ace a free rein as he turned off the road, and they soon found Chief tied to a cottonwood, hidden in a dense stand of trees. Although there was no sign of Artemus, Jim could see his partner's field makeup kit was still strapped to the gelding's saddle.
If Artemus thought it was safer to proceed in disguise, thought Jim, it meant he suspected something was up at the academy, and that was warning enough for him.
Since the best way to track his missing partner was to literally retrace his footsteps, Jim tied Ace beside Chief and began to walk the rest of the way to the school.
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He approached the main building warily, keeping to the shadows. The school looked dark and deserted as the setting sun slipped behind a bank of sullen thunderheads.
"Grey clouds at sundown," Jim muttered cryptically, "it's going to be a nasty night."
By this time in the late afternoon lessons were long over, but Jim still moved cautiously. It came as a bit of a surprise to find the front door unlocked, but after making sure no one was about, he quietly stepped inside. A quick glance around the marbled foyer with its sweeping staircase and branching hallways brought home the unwelcome realization the building was actually much larger than he'd originally thought.
If Artie and Lily are here they could be almost anywhere. His only option was to start opening doors.
On the first floor he found mostly darkened classrooms, but as he moved down the main hallway, Jim noticed light glowing beneath a door at the end of the hall. He tried the handle. The door swung open into a well-furnished library illuminated by gaslight fixtures on the wall.
Checking to make sure it was unoccupied, he slipped inside.
A large table dominated the center of the room. As Jim approached, he could see it was covered with tiny buildings and streets carefully laid out across the table top. The diorama was a miniature of Washington D.C., and upon closer inspection, a reasonable rendering of the planned route of the presidential inaugural parade scheduled for the next morning.
Columns of tiny lead soldiers marched toward the Capital Building while mounted troops, complete with flags and cannon, were arranged in formation in front of a replica of the East Portico.
Taking a closer look, however, Jim realized something was very wrong with the position of the soldiers on the table.
These troops were not lined up for review. The cannons were facing the Capitol building, actually threatening the figures standing on the portico . . . figures that could only be representations of President Grant, the members of the Supreme Court and the combined houses of Congress.
What he was looking at was not a lesson in the orderly, constitutional transfer of power, but a daring plan to hold all three branches of the federal government hostage during an inauguration of the President of the United States!
From somewhere upstairs, Jim heard a door slam. The sound of raised voices echoed in the empty hallway as someone stormed down the front staircase.
James moved quickly. Listening to the raised voices of a man and woman arguing, he held the door open a crack and peered down the hallway.
Jim recognized the man standing in the foyer as Lily's mustached escort from the theatre, Count Stefan Dragos. The woman standing on the stairway was hidden from his view, but her voice was familiar. He had heard it before, but where?
Dragos was furious. "I can't believe you have done this. How could you do something so foolish?"
"Stefan, please. If you will just calm down I can explain everything," the woman with the hauntingly familiar voice pleaded.
"What is there to explain?" Dragos snapped. "You have jeopardized everything we've worked so hard to achieve with this stupid kidnapping scheme of yours. Lily was never a threat to our plans. You let your petty jealousy cloud your common sense. Now this "secret service" agent has gotten involved and that could endanger everything."
Jim froze as the woman laughed.
"Oh, Stefan, you are such an alarmist," she replied. "There is really nothing to worry about. We've already captured Gordon and Lily's maid. They will never get the chance to alert anyone to anything. Besides, now that we have Artemus Gordon we will soon capture his partner James West, and when that happens, I will personally take care of all of them ... permanently."
"And what about Lily?"
"Don't worry about her. She will soon be a willing participant in all of our plans. For now, Stefan, you must concentrate on making sure everything goes off as planned tomorrow. Soon we will have all the resources we need to fund my research and your revolution. As long as we control the minds of the daughters of the most powerful men in the government, we will have unlimited access to funds from the United States Treasury and anything else we demand. Tomorrow's little show of force will only underscore how completely we have the girls in our power. No one will be able to stop us."
"I certainly hope you're right," growled Dragos. "Nothing had better go wrong. The stakes are far too high for failure." Turning abruptly, he pulled the front door open and stalked out.
A rush of cold air filled the hallway and the wind caught the door, banging it against the wall.
The woman rushed down the staircase and dragged the heavy door shut. With a muffled curse, she turned to go back upstairs.
Jim's eyes widened with recognition as the first flashes of lightening from the coming storm illuminated a face he thought he would never see again.
Doctor Faustina!
"Madam von Orlov" had somehow risen from the ashes of her laboratory in New Orleans with a new plan to continue her unholy experiments. But this time, she plotted to have her revenge on not only on the two secret service agents who had foiled her schemes in the past, but on the entire government of the United States!
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As soon as Faustina returned upstairs, Jim was on the move out of the library and down the hall.
He didn't have much time.
The inauguration was scheduled to take place at ten the next morning. He needed to telegraph Col. Richmond to warn the President as soon as possible, but first he had to find Artie, Lil and Nellie. He hadn't liked the sound of Faustina's plans for them any better than the bizarre scheme to extort money from the U.S. Government using the daughters of Senators and Congressmen as her pawns.
The clock in the tower chimed six o'clock.
Jim ducked behind the door of an empty classroom as a group of young women dressed in cadet's uniforms marched down the staircase and into the foyer. Faces devoid of expression, the girls seemed almost oblivious to their surroundings as they paraded out the front door. Jim followed at a safe distance, watching the cadets cross the campus to the academy's clock tower.
A tower that bears a remarkable resemblance to the one on the school's crest, thought Jim. That couldn't possibly be just a coincidence, could it?
A metal door in the tower's base opened and the cadets filed inside.
The cadets were so entranced no one noticed Jim quietly slipping in behind the last girl before the door closed completely. Once inside the tower, he was confronted by two sets of stairs. One spiraled up into the shadowy clock tower, while the other, leading down, was illuminated by a series of glowing glass orbs that gave off a cool but brilliant light. Making a mental note to ask Artie later about the glowing globes, he followed the sound of the girl's footsteps . . . down.
At the bottom of the staircase, Jim was confronted with a maze of corridors creating a honeycomb of tunnels beneath the school's campus. The cadets however, moved with a single-minded sense of purpose through the maze of hallways, finally leading Jim to a large dormitory. Ducking behind the door, James watched as each girl marched to a bed and put on an odd, headband device that had been resting on the pillow. Lying down on their cots, each of the young women fell instantly into a deep, trance-like sleep.
After a few moments, a pair of doors at the far end of the room opened. Dr. Faustina entered followed by Stefan Dragos." The doctor moved from bed to bed adjusting electrical settings on each girl's device, as Dragos began to speak, issuing orders in a deep, sonorous voice.
He's hypnotizing them!
The headbands must be some kind of device to enhance susceptibility to hypnotic suggestion, Jim thought. Obviously, this was not the first time the girls had been hypnotized, and it would certainly explain their blank expressions and mechanical actions.
Although Jim would have liked to have listened to the instructions Dragos was implanting in the minds of the cadets, the sound of shuffling footsteps approaching down the hall warned him someone was coming.
A quick scan of the barren corridor revealed few places to hide except for a spot where the wall appeared to have caved in. James made a quick decision. With the footsteps coming closer, he crawled into the hole and was surprised to discover a narrow passage running behind the wall. There was just enough room for him to crouch down out of sight before the footsteps stopped in front of his hiding place.
Jim held his breath, willing the owner of the shuffling step to move on. Unfortunately, his wish was not granted.
The slap of mortar on brick told him his hiding place could have just become his tomb.
Chapter 9
For the hundredth time, Artie tested the ropes binding his wrists. So far, the knots were holding but he kept at it.
He had to get them out of there!
Even though he wasn't exactly sure what Faustina and Dragos were planning, he had a pretty good idea it had something to do with the President's inauguration. He and Jim had already stopped Faustina from carrying out a plan to assassinate President Grant in New Orleans, but she might be planning to make another attempt during the inaugural.
Artie cast a glance at Nellie. The girl was curled up on a bunk next to the wall but he could tell she wasn't asleep. They had been under constant surveillance by a pair of cadets ever since being tossed into the laboratory's holding cell, making it impossible to coordinate an escape attempt.
Artie clenched his jaw and flexed his wrists, trying to create some slack in the rope he could exploit.
Where was Jim? Certainly he'd made it back from Washington by now.
But even so, thought Artie, it might take some time for his partner to track him to the Academy. He hadn't even told Lily where he was going, not the wisest decision in retrospect, but there was no helping that now. He just hoped Jim would figure out where to look before he and Nellie became lab rats in one of Dr. Faustina's crazy experiments.
The thought added fuel to Artie's attempt to break free of his bonds.
Suddenly, the sound of a chime echoed in the lab and a visible tremor passed through the two guards. Both cadets wheeled about abruptly and strode out into the corridor, leaving Artie and Nellie completely unguarded.
In an instant, Nellie leapt off the bunk. Artie was amazed to see her hands were completely free as she quickly began loosening the knots binding his wrists.
"Not that I'm complaining," said Artie pulling his own hands free, "but how did you-?"
Nellie grinned. "My father was a sailor. He taught me everything he knew about knots. Let's just say I know my way around a rope. By the way, your mustache is slipping."
Artie quickly pulled off the false mustache and mutton chops tossing them into a corner. No need for a disguise now that his cover had been blown.
"Well, thank heaven for good ole' dad," he replied, rubbing the circulation back into his numb fingers. "Now all we need to do is find a way out of here before the guards come back."
"That might not be so easy," Nellie sighed. "The last time I was stuck in here I had to dig my way out with a spoon."
Artie stared at her. "You dug your way out with a spoon?"
"There were some loose bricks in the corner of the cell beneath the bunk some poor soul had loosened before me," replied Nellie. "That chime we just heard summons the guards for one of their "treatments". Every time they left me alone I had a few minutes to work on loosening the bricks with a spoon they gave me to eat with."
"What kind of treatments?"
"Hypnosis, I think. The woman who runs this establishment is some kind of mad doctor. She tried it on me once."
"What happened?" asked Artie, curious to find out the exact effects of the headband devices he had seen earlier in the dormitory.
Nellie shrugged. "Nothing much, I think that's why the girls need on-going treatments to keep them under control. I managed to get out of the cell before she could do anything more to me."
"And you actually dug your way out?"
"Well, it wasn't quite that dramatic, as I said, the bricks were already pretty loose. There's a narrow passage behind the wall that runs from the lab to the dormitory. The doctor uses it to observe the girls' treatments without being seen. I thought if I could get into that passage I might be able to find a way out. Unfortunately, once I managed to crawl through, I found the door to the lab is locked from the outside and there's only an observation portal on the other end."
"And they bricked you in to keep you from trying to escape again."
"Yes." Nellie nodded. "Artemus, whatever they're planning it's going to take place soon. They won't hesitate to kill us to prevent us from revealing what we know. We need to get out of here, now."
"I'm in complete agreement with you," replied Artie. "The problem is I'm a little short of resources to help spring us. If you have any ideas I'm open."
Nellie sighed. "Sorry, but I'm afraid I -"
Just then, a tapping noise from behind the wall interrupted their conversation. Artie cocked his head to listen then grinned.
"What is that?" asked Nellie.
"Morse code," he replied. "My dear, I think the cavalry has just arrived."
Using a tin cup he found in a corner of the cell, Artie rapped out a reply. An instant later a muffled pop from beneath the bunk was followed by the sound of bricks caving in and James West crawled into the cell.
"James, my boy!" cried Artie, helping Jim to his feet, "are we ever glad to see you."
"The feeling is mutual," grinned James, his green eyes sparkling with appreciation as he smiled at Nellie.
Artie shook his head. Even covered with pieces of mortar and brick dust James West couldn't resist the urge to flirt with a pretty woman. "Nellie, this is-"
"I know. He's your partner, James West," Nellie blushed at Jim's rakish smile. "Miss Lily has told me a lot about him, too."
"Well now that we're past the introductions," said Artie, "I hope somebody has an idea how to get us out of here."
Jim sat down on the bunk. As Nellie watched in amazement, he removed the components of a tiny blow torch from the heels of his boots. Fitting the two small pieces together, he fished a match from his pocket and lit it, concentrating the high intensity flame on melting through the cell's locking mechanism.
"We have to hurry, Artie," he said. "I found out Dr. Faustina runs this place. She and that guy Lily was with at the theatre last night are involved in a scheme to extort money from the Federal government."
Artie nodded. "His name is Count Stefan Dragos. Lily told me he's supposed to be some kind of deposed prince. Sounds to me like he's trying to get money to fund a revolution and regain his throne."
"Well, whatever his motivation" replied Jim, "he and Faustina plan to use the cadets to hold the President and Congress hostage during the inaugural ceremony tomorrow morning. We've got to stop them."
"So, what's the plan, partner?" Artie asked. "We don't have much time."
"Once we're out of here, we need to get a telegram to Col. Richmond so he can warn the President" said Jim. "I'll make sure Nellie gets safely back into town, but you'll need to stay behind and find Lily.
"Find Lily?" Artie exclaimed. "What do you mean? What's happened to her?"
"I overheard Faustina and Dragos arguing earlier this evening," replied Jim. "Seems Faustina was jealous of Drago's infatuation with Lil and had her kidnapped to keep him focused on their plan. I'm not sure what the doctor has in mind for Lily but my guess is we need to find her as soon as possible."
The torch finished its work and the lock fell apart. Artie pushed open the cell door and Jim grabbed Nellie's hand.
Quickly crossing the laboratory, they found an elevator that took them up and out of the labyrinth, stopping at Madam von Orlov's office on the second story of the school building Except for the embers glowing in the fireplace the office was dark and deserted. A quick search located Artie's shoulder holster and derringer along with his jacket, hat and gun belt hanging beside Faustina's hooded cloak in the office closet. While he strapped on his weapons, the two agents finalized their plans.
It was agreed that once Nellie was safe and a telegram sent to Col. Richmond, Jim would come back to the academy to help search for Lily if Artie hadn't returned with her.
Their plan set, Jim draped Faustina's cloak around Nellie's shoulders and led the way, creeping quietly down the grand staircase and across the marble foyer.
The clock in the tower was chiming eight o'clock as the trio exited the school and split up.
Artie watched Jim and Nellie glide down the front steps and disappear into the darkness like a pair of phantoms. Then, turning back to the school, he began his search for Lily with only flashes of lightening from the coming storm to illuminate his path.
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The wind ahead of the approaching storm had a cutting edge. Artie pulled the brim of his hat down as he approached the dark clock tower. From the beginning he'd had an odd feeling about the tower, and it had proven to be a focal point for activity surrounding Drago's and Faustina's plans. Yet, as he stood gazing up at its massive bulk silhouetted against the cold, starless sky Artie could sense it had even more sinister secrets to reveal.
He was very worried about Lily.
If jealousy was the motive behind her kidnapping, there was no telling what bizarre fate awaited her. The thought of Lil suffering at the hands of a jealous Dr. Faustina only fueled his urgency to find her.
The small torch he'd borrowed from Jim quickly burned through the lock. Artie shoved the door open and stepped into the featureless, circular room at the base of the tower. Two sets of stairs confronted him, one winding up into the clock tower, the other leading down into the maze of tunnels beneath the school.
Artie shook his head. He'd had enough of tunnels and labyrinths for one day. Could Faustina have locked Lil away in the tower like Rapunzel?
Only one way to find out Artemus my boy, climb up.
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The winding staircase leading up into the tower was dark and hung with thick cobweb curtains. No one could have come that way in a long time, thought Artie. Even a quick search of the room at the top of the stairs revealed nothing unusual, just the clock's mechanical works and chimes.
Removing his hat, Artie wiped the nervous perspiration from his forehead with the back of his sleeve.
Damn it! There's nothing at all unusual in here.
Here he was following his romantic theories about the clock tower while Lily was running out of time.
Where was she?
Almost as if to underscore his frustration, a rumble of thunder reminded him the storm outside was intensifying as a flash of lightening lit the room through the translucent clock face.
Artie stopped. In the fading light, he could barely make out the outline of a small door set into the ceiling. Probably just a storage compartment for tools and supplies he thought, but he should at least check it out. The door creaked open on unoiled hinges and Artie ducked as a set of wooden steps dropped down and unfolded. Looking up into the space above him, he was surprised to see light.
Why would anyone want to illuminate a storage space?
Hoping the rickety looking steps wouldn't collapse beneath his weight, he decided to climb up.
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Artemus peered into the room.
Far from the usual dark attic or storage space he had imagined, the room at the top of the clock tower had been converted into a surprisingly well equipped laboratory. Pulling his body the rest of the way into room, Artie felt a shiver of recognition. Although much smaller than the original, the lab was an almost exact duplicate of the one he and Jim had helped destroy in New Orleans. (TNOT Big Blast) Exotic looking electrical equipment lined the walls and the usual array of chemical experiments bubbled and smoked in a variety of beakers; but it was the sight of a draped figure lying on a gurney in the middle of the room that made his heart stop.
Artie leapt to his feet and rushed over to raise the sheet.
Lily! Oh, my god, what has she done to you?
Touching her neck, he felt for a pulse. Thank god! Her heart is still beating.
Yet, even as he breathed a sigh of relief, he knew full well the appearance of life could not rule out the possibility Lil had already been converted into a mindless zombie or even that she was not a duplicate Faustina and designed for some evil purpose.
Artie shook his head. He dared not contemplate the possibilities too deeply. What he needed was to suspend emotion and deal with the situation as he found it.
Lily is alive. Good.
From previous experience, Artemus knew both zombies and duplicates had unusual strength and tended to be violent. (TNOT Undead/ TNOT of the Big Blast) Perhaps the fact Lily was not restrained in any way indicated Faustina's plan for her had not been fully carried out.
At least not yet . . . but that meant he needed to get her out of there as quickly as possible.
With any luck, the jealous doctor would be too engrossed with Dragos and making the final preparations for their assault on President Grant and Congress to deal with Lily tonight.
Praying Lil would be able to walk once she regained consciousness, Artie began disconnecting the wires running to the metal device encircling her head. Although similar to the headbands he had examined in the cadets dormitory, this particular device had been modified to encapsulate Lily's entire skull and was attached by a jumble of wires to a second, identical device lying on a gurney beside her.
Carefully, he removed the headgear.
Lily's eyelids fluttered. Artie held his breath as she opened her eyes and gazed up at him.
"Artemus?" she whispered.
He exhaled. "Hello, sleeping beauty," he replied softly, smiling down at her. "How are you feeling?"
"Uh . . . Sleepy . . . Wh-what are you doing here?"
"Don't worry about that right now, honey. Do you think you can walk?"
Slipping his arm under Lily's shoulders he helped her to sit up. She was limp as a rag doll and her head lolled forward, bumping against his chest. Artie frowned. The aftereffects of the drugs Faustina had used to keep her quiet were still making Lil pretty groggy. He could carry her, but it would certainly be a lot faster and easier if she could make it out under her own power.
"Come on, Lily," Artie coaxed, "you can do it. We've got to get you out of here."
A sound behind them made Artemus whirl.
A panel in the wall slid back and Miklos and Dr. Faustina emerged from a small, concealed elevator coming up from the tunnels below. The giant rushed at Artie, hurling him against the wall as Lil collapsed back onto the gurney.
Stunned, Artie struggled to his feet only to see Faustina draw her derringer and point it at Lily lying helpless on the gurney.
"How nice to see you again, Mr. Gordon," drawled Faustina. "I was sorry you escaped from our holding cell before we had a chance to renew our acquaintance, but I'm delighted you decided to pay us another visit. Please surrender your weapons to Miklos and if you cooperate, I promise no harm will come to Ms. Fortune."
With a gun leveled at Lil's head, he was in no position to argue. Handing his pistol to Miklos, he unbuckled his holster and let it slide to the floor. The giant roughly removed Artie's hat and coat, kicking them into a pile with his weapons, then strapped him into a wooden chair that looked like some kind of medieval torture device.
"I hope you're comfortable, Mr. Gordon," Faustina purred. "You are going to be spending quite some time with us."
"How charming. Would it spoil the surprise to ask what kind of entertainment you're planning, Doctor?"
Faustina's calculating gaze rested on him for a moment then she shrugged. "I suppose there's no harm in telling you. In a few minutes it will all be over and there will be nothing you or anyone else can do about it."
A cold feeling of dread began to uncurl in the pit of Artie's stomach. "What will be over?" he asked.
"The transference," the doctor replied, smiling. "You see, Mr. Gordon, I have not been idle since we last met. In fact, I have taken my work with consciousness to an entirely new level, perhaps even to the point of finding a key to unlocking the door to eternal youth and beauty."
"Eternal youth? What are you talking about?"
Faustina shook her head and laughed. "It's ironic, really. In a way I actually have you and Mr. West to thank for it. When I lost my lab in New Orleans I thought I was finished, but then, I realized I had grown tired of reanimating corpses. There was an unpalatable ghoulishness to the grave robbing required and then, of course, the inconvenience of disposing with the living "models" for my duplicates."
"Very untidy," remarked Artie, sarcastically.
"Yes, I thought so too," Faustina replied, warming to her subject. "That's why I decided to take my research in an entirely different direction. Imagine for a moment a world where a simple, painless procedure would allow a person . . . a very wealthy person . . . to purchase a transfer of their consciousness into a younger, healthier body, perhaps multiple times, thereby prolonging their lives indefinitely."
"I'd say it would be a world full of disappointed people who are waiting for their rich relatives to die."
"Ah, Mr. Gordon, always the one to see the humor in any situation," sighed Faustina. "And yet, I am certain such a day is very close at hand. In fact, you will witness the birth of such a world this very night."
"Well, since you're opening the door to immortality to the rich and powerful," said Artie, "I think it's only fair to ask what happens to the consciousness of the poor person who once occupied that younger, healthier body?"
Faustina smiled, coldly. "But that is the genius of it, Mr. Gordon. Don't you see? What one leaves behind the other enters."
Artie's blood froze as the fate that awaited Lily hit home. "But you can't be serious," he gasped, "transferring the consciousness of a beautiful young woman into . . ."
"The body of a fading, middle-aged woman would be a terrible shock, of course," retorted Faustina, "but I shall see to it she will never know. After all, I am not a monster."
"No!"
Artemus fought furiously against his restraints as Faustina calmly replaced Lily's headgear; then reattaching the wires, placed the second headband on her own head.
Miklos assisted his mistress onto the gurney beside Lily's
"You may make the necessary preparations to begin the procedure now, Miklos," Faustina ordered. "Please make sure Mr. Gordon is outfitted with the new, experimental headband as well."
Artie glared as Faustina's henchman fitted a third headband around his head. "What's this?" he asked. "Am I going to exchange consciousness with your trained gorilla here?"
With a snarl, Miklos jerked the straps securing Artie's headpiece painfully tight.
"Now, now Mr. Gordon, there is no need to be insulting," said Faustina reclining on her gurney. "You should be honored to be the first to experience my latest consciousness altering device."
"Oh, I'm thrilled," replied Artie wincing as Miklos yanked his restraints tighter.
"As you can see, it has no wires," Faustina continued. "This new technology enables the device to use electronic currents in the air to send consciousness altering signals directly to the brain. It destroys all barriers of conscious resistance and turns the brain into a receiver for electronic thought impulses . . .
". . . Thus rendering the subject incapable of resisting any suggestion you care to make," Artie finished as the full horror of the idea sank in.
Faustina applauded. "Correct! As a man of science I knew you would understand. I was going to use it on Count Dragos, but I needed a test subject first and you are just perfect, Mr. Gordon."
Artie sighed. "You will never make him love you, Faustina."
"Perhaps I couldn't as Faustina von Orlov, but once I become Lily Fortune I think he will be much easier to persuade. In any case, he won't realize what's happened until it is too late."
For a split second, Artie thought he saw a shadow of jealousy cross Miklos' usually stoic features. Unfortunately, he couldn't be sure, because Faustina's loyal assistant was already flicking switches and turning dials, gearing the machinery up for the doctor's horrendous mind swap.
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Chapter 10
Outside the laboratory the wind howled like a demon. Thunder rolled around the tower as a portion of the ceiling above them moved aside and a long, thin lightening rod rose into the tempest tossed sky.
As the equipment crackled and hummed to life, Artemus gritted his teeth in frustration. He was helpless to stop this crazy mind swap that would effectively murder the woman he loved, leaving her body to house the twisted genius of Dr. Faustina von Orlov.
"Perfect, perfect!" the doctor laughed manically as flashes of lightening illuminated the small lab. "The air is full of electrically charged particles that will assist us in the transfer."
The machines surrounding Lily and Faustina began to whirr and spark.
"Don't forget, Miklos," cried Faustina, "once the transfer is complete, you must inject my old body with the solution in the syringe on the tray. This must be done without fail. Do you understand me?"
Miklos nodded unhappily.
If there had been any doubt in Artie's mind the giant was not in favor of the transference, the look on Miklos face erased it. "Miklos stop," he shouted. "You don't have to do this!"
But it was already too late.
A tremendous bolt of lightning hit the rod above and snaked down into the lab. Sparks flew everywhere. The machinery began to smoke and whine as the circuits started to overload. Faustina and Lily's bodies went rigid then began to twitch, vibrating violently as the tremendous surge of power passed through them.
The massive jolt of electrical energy hit Artie like a tidal wave. His brain was exploding! He strained to break free of his bonds as Miklos rushed to trip the emergency overload switch.
The last thing Artemus heard before his consciousness was consumed in a blaze of blinding heat was the sound of machines powering down and gears grinding to a halt.
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Artie opened his eyes to darkness. The storm outside had subsided and except for an occasional rumble of distant thunder, the lab was deathly quiet.
Lily!
He tried to sit up but his restraints still held him fast. Nausea caused by his sudden movement rolled over him in waves, but the dizziness passed as he slowly became aware of a dark shape bending over him.
The sharp tang of sulfur stung his nostrils. A sudden flare of light from a match illuminated her face as she lit a candle and leaned over him to brush a lock of hair off his damp forehead.
"Lil!" Artie sighed with relief. "Thank god. You're okay!"
Then she laughed.
"Welcome back, Mr. Gordon," purred Faustina. "I hope you slept well."
Artemus groaned.
"As you can see the transfer was a complete success." Faustina set the candle down on the lab table and twirled around for his approval. The doctor had changed into a cadet's uniform and Artie could not help but notice how the outfit hugged Lily's shapely body in all the right places.
But what's happened to Lil?
He cast a fearful glance across the lab, his heart sinking at the sight of a sheet-draped body lying motionless on a gurney.
Dear god . . . Lily . . . no.
There was no sign of Miklos anywhere.
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From the quadrangle below, Artie could hear the familiar sounds of a military unit saddling up and preparing to move out. Dragos and the cadets were making their final preparations to leave. A march into Washington hauling the school's small cannon could take several hours. In bad weather, it would take even longer. The cadets would have to leave soon to arrive in time for the inaugural parade.
"I'm afraid the time has come to say goodbye, Mr. Gordon," said Faustina, with a triumphant smile. "It has taken years of patience, but finally I will have my revenge on Grant and everyone who laughed at my work. Even you and Mr. West will at last be punished for destroying my laboratory."
Artie shook his head. "You may have had your revenge on me, Doctor," he replied, "but James West is still free. He will hunt you down for what you've done, make no mistake about it."
"By tomorrow, he won't be able to touch me. Remember, I am in complete control of the minds of the daughters of some of the most powerful men in the country. He would not dare cross me."
Artie glared at Faustina as she summoned the elevator and stepped inside. "Goodbye, Mr. Gordon," she smirked. "Do give my regards to Mr. West when you see him."
Then the elevator doors closed and she was gone.
Artie slumped back in the chair, his head pounding.
And God only knows what you've programmed me to do to Jim when he finds me.
The clock in the tower was striking twelve. Midnight… He'd been unconscious for hours, more than enough time for Faustina to implant any suggestion she wished into his open, unresisting mind.
And he had no clue what on earth it could be.
Artie jerked against his restraints in frustration. Not only had the vengeful doctor succeeded in stealing Lily's body, but she had turned him into a ticking time bomb.
There was still one ray of hope, however.
Jim and Nellie should have made it back to Paris Junction by now and James would have telegraphed Col. Richmond. With any luck, Dragos and Faustina were riding toward a much warmer reception than they were expecting in Washington.
Still, none of that was going to help Lily.
Artie closed his eyes and sighed. Oh, god, Lil, I'm so sorry . . .
Artemus?
Artie's eyes snapped open, his head swiveling wildly as he looked around the lab. What was that? It sounded like Lily's voice… but that was impossible.
Artemus, what's going on? Where am I?
"Lily? Oh, my god! Is that you?"
Yes, of course it's me. Why are you shouting?
"I'm not shouting," replied Artie, suddenly realizing that he was.
Well, whatever you're doing, stop it. I have a horrendous headache.
"Lil . . . That's wonderful!" he whispered.
I see nothing wonderful about having a headache, replied Lily irritably.
"No… but you're alive!"
Well, of course I'm alive. What are you talking about? And why is it impossible for you to be hearing my voice?
"Because you… Wait a minute, Lily. I didn't say that."
Yes you did. I heard it just as plain as day. You said-"
Artie frowned as he tried to puzzle out the situation. "Lily, do me a favor. Wiggle your fingers."
Wiggle my what?
"Your fingers, sweetheart," repeated Artie, patiently. "Wiggle them for me, please."
Oh, alright, but this is so silly.
Artemus nearly shouted, but caught himself just in time. "Oh, my God," he whispered, hoarsely.
What is it? I did what you told me to do, Artemus. I wiggled my fingers. Now what's wrong?
Artie could feel Lily's rising anxiety, but he had to know if his theory was correct. "Lily, don't panic, but… those were my fingers."
No! That's not possible, replied Lily. Artie, you're starting to frighten me. Please, tell me what's happening!
The pain in his temples increased as Artemus tried to pull his thoughts together. Although incredible, if what he suspected was correct, it really was the only logical explanation for what was happening.
"Lily," he asked gently, "how much do you remember about . . . what just happened?"
If you mean about the consciousness transfer, I don't remember anything. And yet, somehow, I can see it in vivid detail, as if I was a spectator watching it from outside of my body. But how can that be?
"Because I watched it, that's how," replied Artie, reasoning the situation through. "You were unconscious at the time. Lily, listen to me, I have a theory-"
Dear Lord, Artemus, do you mean to say that Dr. Faustina meant to transfer my consciousness into her body, but somehow, I went to you instead?
"Yes, that's exactly what I was . . . thinking."
Then that means-
"We are co-inhabiting within my body!" Artemus exclaimed flushing hot with embarrassment as the intensely personal ramifications of the situation hit home. "Er… I mean, that is . . . I think . . . um. ."
Lily's silvery laughter rang in his mind. Artemus Gordon, I believe this is the first time I have ever known you to be at a loss for words.
"What words?" he groused. "You're reading my mind."
And that makes you uncomfortable? She replied sweetly.
Artie squirmed and gave the straps holding him down a futile tug. "What makes me uncomfortable is being held back by these restraints. I need to get us out of here and I'm trussed up like a Christmas goose."
Artemus, darling, aren't you forgetting something?
"What?"
My body, that's what! I'd very much like to get it back from that nasty harridan."
"Of course, Lil," sighed Artie, "I just have to figure out a way to get us out of here and then -"
No, Artemus, you will not.
Stunned, Artie shook his head. "I don't understand, Lily. I thought you just said you wanted to find your body?"
Oh, I do, replied Lily, but don't you see, Artemus? You and I are in the absolutely unique position of finally determining the truth of the old saying: 'Two heads are better than one'. So, it will be the two of us who will figure this out . . . together.
Artie shook his head and smiled.
WWW
Chapter 11
The trap door in the floor opened with a creak.
In the flickering candlelight, Artie watched in dismay as James West climbed into the lab. Jim turned and offered a hand to Nellie, who tossed a bundle she was carrying into the room then followed him up, brushing the dust and cobwebs from her skirt.
"Jim!" Artie exclaimed, "I thought you and Nellie were still in town. Did you get a chance to telegraph Col. Richmond?"
Jim moved quickly to his partner's chair and began unfastening the straps holding Artie down. "We never made it into town," he replied.
Artie winced as Jim removed the headgear encircling his brow.
"A cadet patrol found Ace and Chief tied in the cottonwoods and set up an ambush," James continued. The only reason they didn't shoot us on the spot was because Dragos had taken a fancy to Ace, and I was the only one who could get close to him without getting my head kicked in. Nell and I got an armed escort back to the school where we were marched back down into the tunnels and thrown into another holding cell.
"That is until somebody released us," said Nellie.
"Who?"
"We don't know," she shrugged. "But whoever it was wanted us to find you," she pointed to the bundle that lay on the floor beside the trap door. "Your hat, coat and weapons were scattered all along the tunnels. We followed the trail to the stairs leading up to the tower. That's how we knew you had to be here."
"Or it could have been a trap," muttered Artie, chafing his wrists to encourage circulation.
"I don't think we had much choice, Artie," Jim grinned, slapping his partner on the shoulder. "The important thing is we found you. Now we need to get out of here, pronto. There's a railway station about a half mile or so from here. We can send a telegram to the Colonel without having to go all the way into town. Where's Lily?"
"She's with them."
Jim stared at Artie in amazement. "You mean she's a part of this?"
"No. Not exactly," Artie sighed. "Look, Jim, it's hard to explain, but we have to go after them."
"Artemus, they're well mounted with thirty rifles, and there are only three of us. Besides, technically, those girls are innocent civilians who have been hypnotized into following a pair of dangerous criminals. We can't really use any kind of deadly force against them."
"Which is why if you give me just a few minutes in the lab here, I'll concoct something that will help us even up the odds a bit," said Artie.
The lab took on an eerie glow as he struck a match, and lit the Bunsen burners on the lab table.
A stifled shriek came from the shadows in the corner of the lab.
Jim grabbed the candle beside Artie's chair and rushed over to Nellie, who stood frozen, one end of the sheet in her hand, staring down at the draped figure lying on the gurney. James leaned over to get a better look at the body.
"It's Dr. Faustina," he muttered. Handing the candle to Nellie, he checked for vitals. "She's still alive. What's going on here, Artie?"
But Artie didn't answer. He was already engrossed in mixing chemicals together in a vial.
"Stop him, James!" A strange voice rang out in the lab.
James West frowned. The words had come from the mouth of Artemus Gordon, but his partner seemed oddly disconnected from what he was saying. Artie's eyes looked glassy and unfocused as he continued to plead in the odd, high-pitched voice.
"James, listen to me! You have to stop him. Please! Listen to me. It's Lily!"
Jim stared at his partner, trying to understand. "Stop who, Artie? What about Lily?"
Artie's face showed no emotion, but the words tumbling from his lips became even more agitated.
"Nellie, please, listen carefully! It's me, Lily! Remember what I always tell you, Nell? In the last act … don't forget the red cloak. Do you understand? Don't forget the red cloak!"
Nellie grabbed Jim's arm. "Sweet merciful heavens, Mr. West, it is Miss Lily! I don't know how or why, but you better do what she says and quickly, too."
The vial in Artie's hand began to smoke.
"Nellie! Get down!" shouted Jim, springing into action.
Wrestling with Artie for the vial of chemicals, James decked his partner with a roundhouse punch and the vial smashed into the lab table. Fortunately, the resulting explosion produced mostly smoke. When it cleared, Jim helped Nellie to her feet then rushed over to check on Artie.
"Sorry pal," he apologized extending a hand to help his friend stand up. "You okay?"
"Yeah," replied Artie rubbing his jaw. "If ringing in the ears and a crushing headache qualifies as 'okay', I'm fine. What just happened?"
"You were mixing up a batch of explosive chemicals," Jim explained. "I had to do something before you blew us all sky high."
"Good Lord, that must have been the hypnotic suggestion Faustina implanted in my mind," murmured Artie. "She knew you would come to spring me and when you did, she programmed me to blow the lab to smithereens. What a perfect way to get rid of the evidence of her 'experiment' and have her revenge on us at the same time."
"I guess that explains who let us out of the cell and led us here," said Nellie.
Jim nodded. "Maybe, but it still doesn't explain how Lily warned us. Her words came from your lips, Artie. How do you explain that?"
Artemus sighed. "It's a long story, but all you really need to know is that Faustina has perfected a way to transfer the consciousness of one individual into the body of another. She used Lil as a subject in her experiment. The end result is the consciousness that is Dr. Faustina von Orlov now resides in the body of Lily Fortune, and Lil's consciousness-"
"Is in her body?" Nellie stared down in horror at Faustina's unconscious form.
Artie shook his head. "Not exactly . . ."
Jim looked sharply at his partner. "No. That headgear you were wearing when we came in… somehow Lily's consciousness got transferred to you. That's how she was able to warn us."
"Exactly."
Nellie's eyes widened. "Then that must mean the two of you-"
"Are co-existing in my body," finished Artie.
Jim raised an eyebrow and let out a low whistle. "Wow." Then, he leaned down and tossed Artie his gun belt and pistols from the pile lying on the floor.
"Time to get moving, Artemus," he said. "If we're going to stop Dragos and Faustina, it would be better to do it before they make it to Washington."
Artie nodded. "I agree…fewer opportunities for innocent civilians to get hurt. The last thing we want is a confrontation between the cadets and Federal troops."
"Alright, then," said Jim. "We'll grab a couple of horses from what's left in the stable. We can make better time if we stick to the high ground on the ridge. I'll ride ahead to the railway station and telegraph Col. Richmond to warn the President just in case. Still, I doubt the cadets could have gotten very far after the storm last night." Then Jim smiled. "Besides, I'll wager a month's pay Dragos is trying to ride Ace, and we both know how much that horse hates mud."
Artie strapped his gun belt across his hips then returned his monogrammed pistols to their holsters. He shrugged into his fringed, buffalo hide jacket and picked up his hat. After dusting it off, he put it on and adjusted it to a rakish angle.
"James, my boy," he grinned, "I think we just may have a chance of stopping them after all."
Chapter 12
"Whoa, damn you! Whoa!" Dragos hauled back on the reins, but the black horse only shook his head and snorted.
Even though the road was a sea of mud, Ace pranced along, refusing to alter his kidney shattering gait. The ache in Dragos' lower back grew with every step. It was still a long way to Washington, and he was tired of the battle of wills he was waging with the stubborn stallion.
Why had he had ever given in to the impulse to ride this black devil? In all his life, he had never encountered such a hard-headed beast.
Swearing under his breath, he gave the reins another sharp, angry tug.
With a squeal of outrage, Ace reared up and struck out with his forelegs, coming down with a splash in the middle of a deep puddle. Gobs of thick, gooey mud sprayed in every direction.
Dragos stared down at his once immaculate dress uniform, now peppered with brown spatters and slimy goo. "Damn you, you brute!" he shrieked, "You've ruined my uniform!"
Faustina frowned as she watched the antics of horse and rider.
Was there no limit to the man's vanity? Only an idiot would have chosen to ride an untried mount on such a vital mission. Their plan should have been moving forward with split second timing, but now Dragos had allowed a horse to make a fool of him.
Faustina pulled her watch from the pocket of her over coat. The first rays of morning sunlight creeping over the eastern ridge illuminated the watch face . . . six o'clock. . . The inaugural parade was scheduled to begin at ten.
They were going to be late.
Closing her eyes, Faustina tried to ignore the painful pounding in her temples. Why was everything conspiring against her? First the rain had delayed their departure, then the wheels of their small but vital cannon had sunk axle deep in the mud, slowing their progress even further. Now the wind had shifted to the north, dropping the temperature to nearly freezing.
And if that wasn't bad enough, the transference procedure was beginning to have some unexpected side effects.
How could she have failed to anticipate how disorienting it would be to suddenly find her consciousness thrust inside Lily's body? Her balance was off, causing bouts of dizziness and nausea. Even the cold seemed to affect her more acutely than usual. Faustina pushed the discomfort from her mind. Now was not the time to give in to doubts. She had to remain focused and positive.
At least one part of her plan was progressing perfectly.
As she had hoped, Stefan had been delighted to learn of Lily's unexpected "conversion" to their enterprise. When "Lily" told him of her decision to join him on the march to Washington he hadn't even questioned why Faustina herself would not be accompanying them. A fact Faustina found more than a little depressing. She was even convinced Stefan's decision to ride the high-spirited black stallion had been a move designed exclusively to impress Lily.
The conceited fool!
The sound of Dragos swearing at Ace brought her back to the present.
This was not how she had envisioned riding to their triumph. Still, everything depended upon the successful completion of their plan. Soon she would show Grant and the fools who made up his government just how powerless they were against her. In just a few, short hours she would hold the government of the United States of America in the palm of her hand. Then there would be nothing to stop her from acquiring everything she had dreamed of for the last two years, the love of the man she desired, power, unlimited riches . . . but most of all, revenge . . . sweet, sweet revenge.
For the first time that morning, Faustina smiled.
WWW
A dense patch of fog obscured the roadway ahead.
Dragos clenched his jaw in frustration. What else could crop up to impede their progress? Conditions were always ideal for fog along the Potomac River, but today the dense mist represented just one more delay Dragos could not afford.
Ordering the cadets to halt, he rode up beside Faustina.
"Damned weather," he grumbled. "Lily, my dear, I'm afraid I must ask you to wait here with the cadets while I make sure the road ahead is safe. We don't need a horse stumbling into a hole and breaking a leg this close to our objective."
"Be careful, Stefan," replied Faustina, staring up at him with Lily's, soft brown eyes.
The count grinned, "Always my love." He leaned forward in the saddle to kiss her, but Ace chose that moment to flatten his ears and bolt forward.
With a sigh, Faustina watched Dragos and the black horse disappear into the thick blanket of fog.
Minutes passed as the sun rose over the top of the eastern ridge.
The wind rattled through the frozen tree branches, and Faustina was suddenly aware of how quiet it was. Halted in their trance-like state, the cadets waited, motionless for the order to move out. Except for the snorting and impatient stamping of their horses, nothing moved in the freezing cold.
A prickle of apprehension ran down her spine. Something was wrong. She could feel it . . .
Suddenly, a series of sharp whistles pierced the air, followed by a horse's high-pitched whinny. An instant later Ace galloped out of the fog, saddle empty, stirrups flying.
With a thoroughly unladylike explicative, Faustina spurred her horse forward, plunging recklessly into the swirling mist. By the time she smelled the fog's distinctive chemical odor it was too late to turn back.
She had ridden into a trap.
Artemus Gordon stepped from the trees bordering the roadway. "Hold it right there, Doctor," he said, drawing his pistol.
Faustina wheeled her mount around but the sight of Stefan Dragos leaning against a tree, bound and gagged, pulled her up short. Blood oozed from a sizeable lump on his forehead.
"Stefan!" She leapt from her horse and rushed to his side. Falling to her knees beside him, she tried to ignore the look of shock in Dragos' eyes as he realized the woman kneeling beside him was not his beloved Lily.
"Faustina?" he murmured in disbelief.
His accusing stare followed her as she rose slowly to her feet and turned to face Artemus. "I don't know how you escaped, Mr. Gordon," she said glaring defiance, "but I do know you won't shoot me. You would never willingly risk harming the body of woman you love."
Artie swallowed hard. His finger froze on the trigger. Slowly, he lowered the pistol to his side.
Brushing the mud and leaves from the pants of her soiled uniform, Faustina remounted her horse. "You see, Mr. Gordon," she said, gazing down on him with a cold smile, "that's the difference between us. I would never let love stand in the way of getting what I want." With a final, disdainful glance at Dragos, she reined her horse around. "Goodbye, Stefan," she said, then dug her heels into her mount's side.
Suddenly, a rope snaked out of the trees. The loop circled the doctor's body then dropped down. With a quick pull, it cinched tight, yanking her from her saddle.
Faustina tumbled into the mud, cursing a blue streak.
Nellie stepped from the trees, keeping her rope tight on their prisoner while Artemus secured the doctor's hands and feet.
"Sorry, Lil," Artie apologized, stuffing a gag into the furious doctor's mouth.
Don't worry, Artemus, Lily replied inside his head. You're treating her gently compared to what I'd like to do to her.
The sound of hoof beats galloping toward them through the chemically induced fog brought Artie to his feet. He whirled, pistol in hand. The mist parted, and the early morning sunlight gleamed on the coat of the coal black stallion galloping toward them.
Artemus breathed a sigh of relief. "Jim!"
James West slid Ace to a halt. "Put that pistol up, Artie. I think we got 'em." Running his hand along Ace's neck, he grinned. "Didn't we boy?"
The stallion snorted and tossed his head.
Epilogue
The champagne was uncorked with a resounding pop, and laughter filled the parlor car of the Wanderer.
Jim West expertly evaded the cascade of froth, capturing the perfectly chilled champagne in fluted crystal glasses. Always the perfect host, Artemus passed the first two glasses to Nellie and Lily, who relaxed in front of the crackling fire glowing in the fireplace.
When everyone had been served, Artie stood and cleared his throat.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I would like to propose a toast." He raised his glass. "To Ulysses S. Grant, 18th President of the United States, may his second term in office be filled with peace and prosperity… and may God bless America."
"God bless America!" the others echoed and emptied their glasses. Following Artie's lead they smashed them in the hearth.
"Great toast, Artie," said James, "but we still have a lot of champagne left. I'm sure we can think of some other things to drink to," he winked at Nellie. "Am I right, ladies?"
Nellie laughed. "As far as I'm concerned, I'd like to toast this nice cozy fire. It was freezing at the inaugural ball tonight. I felt so sorry for the President and Mrs. Grant shivering through that endless receiving line while everyone else was dancing."
"Still, it was lovely," sighed Lily, leaning back on the sofa as Artie handed her a second glass of champagne. "All the women in their gorgeous gowns, and the men looked so handsome." She glanced at Artemus who sat down beside her. Dressed in a form fitting black tailcoat and trousers, his handsome dark features were set off to perfection by a snowy, white cravat.
Artie smiled into her eyes. "Here's to loveliness," he murmured, touching his champagne flute to hers.
"Well," said James, refilling Nellie's empty glass, "I'd like to propose a toast of my own. . . To friends reunited."
"And to a couple of ladies whose cool heads under fire helped to save the day," added Artie. Everyone lifted their glasses and toasted each other.
"Which leads me to a question that's been bothering me," Jim's eyes narrowed, turning the full force of his crystalline stare on Nellie.
The petite brunette took a sip of champagne. "And what is that, James?" she asked.
"Artie tells me you stopped Faustina with some pretty fancy roping last night," he said. "I was just curious where you learned to handle a rope like that."
Nellie blushed. "I used to work in the costume department of a Wild West show," she explained. "When I wasn't working I watched the cowboys practicing their rope tricks. One of them volunteered to show me how to work a rope. By the time I left the show, I was pretty good."
"Hey, hold it right there," Artie exclaimed, his face creasing into a puzzled frown, "when we were in the cell in the underground laboratory, you told me you learned all about ropes from your father who was a sailor."
Nellie bit her lip and shrugged. Exchanging a glance with Lily, they both collapsed into a fit of giggles.
"Oh, Artemus," said Lily, "you've been around show people long enough to know they rarely tell all of their secrets. Nellie's a trooper. She's got performing in her blood. Rope tricks are only one of her many talents. Isn't that so, Nell?"
"Really?" replied Jim, arching a dark brow at Nellie who turned three shades of pink. "But I'm still puzzled by how she was so certain it was Lily speaking through Artemus when he was mixing up those explosive chemicals in the lab. And what was all that business about a 'red cloak'?"
Lily laughed. "Oh, I can explain that," she said. "When Nell first came to work for me she was always forgetting to 'set' a red cloak I needed on stage for the final act. It got to be a joke between us, so now before every performance, I tell her 'Nellie, don't forget the red cloak'."
"And that's how I knew it was Lily," replied Nellie. "It's kind of our private good luck charm."
"Well, it certainly was lucky for us," said Artie. "If Miklos hadn't kidnapped Nellie by mistake Lily would have never asked us to go looking for her, and James wouldn't have uncovered the plot to take the President and Congress hostage. Because of you, ladies, two very dangerous criminals are in custody tonight, and the country will never know how close the President's inaugural came to being turned into a nightmare."
"But, what about all those poor girls," asked Lily, "are they going to be alright? After what Faustina did to me, I can only imagine what it must have been like for them. They were completely robbed of their free will."
Artie took Lily's hand in his. "Don't worry, Lil," he said. "All the girls have all been returned to their families and are making full recoveries. The effect of the conditioning appears to have been only temporary."
Jim nodded. "But attempting to blackmail the United States government should land Faustina and Dragos behind bars for a very long time."
"Especially now that Miklos has turned himself in and is cooperating with the authorities," said Artemus. "After disobeying Faustina's orders to destroy her body and helping us to reverse the mind transfer, he's hoping to get a lighter sentence in exchange for helping build a case against his former co-conspirators."
Lilly shuddered and Artie put his arm around her. "You should be grateful to him Lil," he said. "Without Miklos, you might have been stuck living inside my head."
Smiling, Lily gazed up at him, her eyes shining with emotion. "I can think of a lot worse fates than living with you, Artemus," she replied.
Jim cleared his throat. "Nellie, my dear," he murmured, leaning down so that his lips nearly brushed her ear, "considering your interest in all things theatrical, how would you like to have a tour of the costume car? Artemus has quite a large and interesting collection of… costumes."
"Why, of course, James," replied Nellie, her laughter low and seductive, "I've been hoping you'd show me all evening."
Circling her waist with his arm, Jim led Nellie through the connecting doors into the adjoining compartment.
As the firelight danced in the deserted parlor car, Artie drew Lily into his arms. "I thought they'd never leave," she sighed, tipping her face up to his.
Artemus smiled. Lowering his lips to hers he claimed them in a tender, passionate kiss.
The End
