The Night of the Geographical Error

Chapter One

The President of California

"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."

Edgar Allan Poe - American writer, editor, and literary critic (1809-1849)

As soon as Artemus Gordon woke up he knew that something was wrong. He was absolutely certain that he had left his pocket watch on the table next to his bed but, when he reached for it, to find out the time, it wasn't there. In its place was a travel clock, decorated with four diamonds at the quarter hours, and he was pretty sure he didn't own such an item.

Gordon recalled imbibing alcohol quite freely the night before, at a reception for a visiting Middle Eastern Potentate, whose name escaped him for the moment. But, although that accounted for the pounding in his head, it didn't explain the loss of his watch and the acquisition of an obviously valuable clock. Unless, of course, he had been gambling, which he couldn't remember and thought highly unlikely. Realising that this amount of thinking, after the night he had enjoyed, was causing the thumping in his head to worsen, he decided that a nice cup of hot coffee would be very welcome.

He eased himself carefully off the bed, put on his dressing-gown, and made his way to the galley. There, he found that the coffee pot was missing, meaning that his friend and partner, James West, had woken up before him and already made the coffee.

Gordon came across his partner, relaxing on a couch in the varnish carriage, coffee cup in hand, reading a newspaper. He looked up as Gordon came in.

"Morning, Artie," he said. "Coffee's fresh. I guess you'll be needing some after last night."

The first thing Gordon noticed was that West was looking at him over the top of a pair of demi lune glasses.

"What's with the glasses, Jim?" Gordon couldn't help asking.

"You must have drunk more than I realised last night," West responded, "You know I've had to wear these since that fire flash, caused by Captain Coffin, affected my eyes. It's only for reading small print."

Gordon was sure there must be something wrong with his brain and shook his head to try and clear it. No, Jim was still wearing the glasses and now he was giving him a puzzled look.

"I'm sorry, Jim, I just can't take all of this in, first I find my pocket watch has turned into a travelling clock and now this." He waved his hand in his partner's direction.

"Artemus, are you all right?" West asked. "You can't have forgotten that the clock was a present, and a very generous one at that. As for your pocket watch, it's over on the table there, where you always leave it."

Gordon gave in. "I think I'll have that cup of coffee now," he said.

"Good idea, here, let me pour it for you."

Gordon received the cup of hot liquid from him and took a reviving sip. "Aah! That's better. So who was the clock a present from?"

"Don't you remember?"

"Humour me!"

West smiled, "the president of California, himself," he said.

Gordon choked on his coffee. "The what?" he said, between fits of coughing.

"What's wrong with you this morning, Artie? We spent last night attending a reception being held by him. You said you were glad it was taking place in the Californian Embassy because, if it were hosted at the White House, there'd be no chance of a drink."

"I said that? Why would I say that?" Gordon asked, allowing himself to be side-tracked from his original question.

"Because President Hayes doesn't allow alcohol at the White House; well the First Lady doesn't anyway, which amounts to the same thing."

"President Hayes?" Gordon exploded, glad that he didn't have a mouth full of coffee when West had dropped that bombshell.

"Have you lost your memory or something?" West asked, getting up and going over to look at him more closely.

"No, but I'm starting to think I've lost my mind, or you have. When I went to bed last night, I'm pretty sure Ulysses S. Grant was President of the United States."

West's expression became grim. "I think I see what's happened," he said. "The guilt you felt over the president's death has played on your mind and you've wiped out anything bad that's happened; the accident to my eyes, the President's death and goodness knows what else."

That brought Gordon up short. "Is that possible?" he questioned, half to himself.

West rested his hands on his friend's shoulders. "I don't know but it's the only explanation I can come up with" he said. "Maybe you ought to go back to bed and rest for a while. If things don't get back to normal we'd better consult a doctor: this might be the start of a complete mental breakdown."

With those words echoing in his brain, Gordon went back to his room and climbed onto the bed, wrapping his dressing-gown tightly around him. Despite the coffee, he felt sleep wasn't too far away. He prayed that, when he woke up, things would be back to how they had been. The last thing he saw as he rolled over was the travelling clock.

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Back in the varnish car, James West had removed his glasses and was wracking his brains to come up with an answer to his partner's strange behaviour. He didn't want to consider that Artemus was having a nervous breakdown. Sure, he'd been under some strain after Grant's death because, not only had they failed to prevent it but, the perpetrator had worn Gordon's face, thanks to Dr Faustina and her henchman Miklos. He knew too, from something Artemus said afterward, that he had intended to propose marriage to Lily Fortune but he'd had second thoughts, not just because it seemed inappropriate when the whole country was in mourning for President Grant, but also when he realised what danger she'd been in. His doppelganger had actually spoken to her and, with his immense strength, could have easily killed her, had he thought she would delay his mission. He had decided she would be safer without him. If he couldn't protect the president then how could he protect her?

Next, West wondered if the alcohol had been to blame but dismissed that idea. Although he had drunk a large amount, Artemus had been nowhere near inebriated enough for it to have had that sort of effect on his faculties.

He had already dismissed out of hand the notion that Artemus was playing some sort of elaborate joke on him. It just wasn't his style and he hadn't seemed to have been acting. That left hypnotism but he couldn't recall a time when Artemus had left the reception for long enough for that to have occurred. Besides, he had been fine in the cab home. What if it had happened in the night? Surely he would have heard the alarm if anyone had entered the train.

West realised he would just have to cool his heels until Artemus woke up. He had said he would call a doctor, if his friend's apparent loss of memory didn't improve, and he meant it.

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Gordon opened his eyes, first of all wondering what he was doing, lying on his bed when the morning was obviously well-advanced. Then the early part of the morning came back to him. His headache was practically gone but he still had a problem with his memory. He lay there for a long while, thinking things through and one thing kept coming into his mind which would not be denied. Every night, for roughly twenty-five years he had placed his watch beside him when he went to sleep at night. He frankly could not believe that he would have changed that habit. I'm going to get to the bottom of this, he thought.

Having got up, Gordon decided to look his best, if he were going to have to stand his ground. He washed and shaved and dressed in a brown suit and a chocolate-coloured, embroidered waistcoat. He pulled on a pair of gleaming boots and brushed his hair. The last thing he did was put his watch in his pocket and to take a deep breath before he made his way to the varnish car to confront James West.

James West wasn't in the varnish car so, after a moment's thought, Gordon went through to where the horses were stabled. There he found West giving his horse a thorough grooming. Its coat gleamed like jet.

"Hi, Artie!" West greeted him. "You're up late this morning. Drank a bit too much last night, huh?"

"We've already had this conversation," Gordon said, puzzled.

For the first time West took in his partner's clothes. "What are you all dressed up for?" he asked.

"James, will you stop brushing that horse and pay attention to me: this is a very serious matter."

"Of course, Artemus," West said, putting down the brush and looking at him with concern, "what's bothering you?"

"What's bothering me? A few hours ago you were dead set on calling a doctor, or are you forgetting things now?"

"Forgetting things? Look, why don't we make ourselves comfortable and continue this discussion over a cup of coffee?"

"All right," Gordon said, more confused than ever and not happy with the delay in sorting things out.

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Seated opposite each other, in comfort, Gordon continued the conversation that had been started that morning, the first time he got out of bed.

"Jim, I don't think I have blanked out any memories. There must be another explanation because I am perfectly in my right mind when I say that Ulysses S. Grant is the President of the US and we did not go to a reception held by the President of California last night."

"That's good, Artie, because that's exactly what I think, though, strictly speaking, I suppose his title would be El Presidente of California. But that's just nit-picking on my part. Now do you want to tell me what this is all about?"

"Oh I see," he said, his features breaking into a smile, "so it was just some sort of elaborate joke you were playing on me. You had me completely fooled, Jim, especially with those glasses you were wearing."

"Artie, you're not making any sense. When was I wearing glasses?"

"You don't need to keep this up any longer, Jim; you had me fair and square. The expensive-looking travel clock was a nice touch."

"Artemus, I have not been playing a joke on you, elaborate or otherwise, and I haven't seen any travel clock."

"Then I'll show you," Gordon said, marching off to find the clock. But it wasn't there and, now he thought about it, his pocket watch had been in that particular place on the table, when he'd picked it up, before leaving the room earlier. He was in a very thoughtful mood when he returned to the varnish car.

Scratching his head, Gordon admitted, "I'm starting to think I dreamed the whole thing up."

"I hope so," said West, "you were starting to worry me. Now, how about you change your clothes and we take that ride into town we planned."

The day passed quickly: they visited a sports club where West got in a few rounds, in the boxing ring, with one of the members, and Gordon did some work with weights, and then they enjoyed lunch at a steak house. After they'd digested their meal, the two men took in the town, enjoying various amusements and shopping for small items they needed. Eventually, they met up with two ladies of their acquaintance and treated them to some refreshments. Having arranged to squire them to some sort of evening's entertainment and agreed a meeting time and place, the two agents returned to the Wanderer.

"I see a very enjoyable evening ahead," Gordon said, pouring himself a glass of sherry. He waved the decanter in West's direction but his partner shook his head, leaving to change into evening clothes. When he had finished his drink, Gordon followed him.

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The next morning, Gordon awoke with a smile on his face, remembering how well the previous evening had gone. He yawned and stretched and, without stopping for anything else, made his way to the galley. Once again the coffee pot was missing, so he went to the varnish lounge to find James West, sitting as before, cup in one hand and newspaper in the other. As soon as he saw the demi lune glasses, Gordon turned on his heel and went back to his room. He could hear West calling his name as he walked through the door and stared, white-faced, at the travel clock sitting on the table by his bed.

Rejoining his partner, Gordon gratefully accepted the cup of coffee he was offered.

"Why did you rush out like that?" West wanted to know.

"I'll explain but first I want you to answer some questions."

"Alright, fire away."

"What did we do yesterday?"

"Rode into town, visited the sports club, had lunch, spent the evening with Lucy and Emma..."

"Stop there; that's exactly what I remember except the ladies were called Millie and Francine."

"Are you mad?"

"No, I think I've finally worked it out. That travelling clock is the key to the whole thing. Every time I go to sleep with it by my bed I seem to end up in some sort of alternative reality."

"I knew I should have called the doctor yesterday but you seemed so much better after you had that few hours' extra sleep."

"Because that wasn't me, don't you see? Your Artemus Gordon came back after I fell asleep next to the clock."

"I'm finding this very hard to believe but I have to admit that, over the years we have encountered some incredible things."

"I know. Tell me some more about this President of California, the man who gave me the clock."

"Well, strictly speaking, he didn't give you the clock, he gave it to me, but you know how I hate the sound of ticking when I'm trying to sleep."

"So this was aimed at you, not me. Now we're getting somewhere. What's his name?"

"Miguelito Loveless," West said, and was immediately aware of the shock he had given his friend.

"Miguelito Loveless is the President of California? How did that happen?"

"Well, he had a legitimate claim to the land; it had belonged to his mother's family. She was Spanish. He granted certain rights to both the Mexicans and the US and the country's doing pretty well under his rule. He's also a nice guy."

"But why would they just give him all that land?"

"A geologist named Professor Orkney Cadwallader made a report for the government, showing that part of that coastline is unstable and could fall into the sea at any time, so the land is practically valueless."

"I've met that gentleman before; he was using explosives to cause earthquakes. I guess you never had that little adventure."

"No, but I'm guessing from the shock on your face that you've come across President Loveless before."

"Yes, only he isn't president of anywhere, he is an evil, bitter, twisted man whose aims fluctuate between ruling the country and destroying it. Part of the bitterness is because his claim to California was denied. Oh and he's also very keen to dispose of you, because you're the only man to have ever put him in prison."

"But my Miguelito Loveless isn't evil, and I've never done him any harm, so why would he give me the clock?"

"My guess is that my Loveless has used the clock to change places with your Loveless. He's probably having so much fun ruling California that he doesn't want to go back, so he decided to bring my James West here to him but, he miscalculated and, he got me instead."

"I wonder what he'll try and do next," West said.

"I don't know but, whatever it is, it won't be good."

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