8/?

"Yes, I understand. Thank you, Lord Wallace, for the information…and, do extend my invitation to your wife for tea sometime next week. It has been too long since we last spoke." With a resigned sigh, the dowager Lady Roxton rang off. The last of her calls made and favors requested and still she had been unable to help her new daughter-in-law's case. Every MP she had spoken with had vehemently denied any foreknowledge of Marguerite's arrest and was unable to offer any aid for her defense. The only news that she obtained was the punishment should the young woman be found guilty: death by hanging.

Unwilling to cause her son further pain, and yet, knowing that she had to share the information with him, she pursed her lips, determining the best method would be tell him outright. He had never wanted bad news sugar-coated, even as a child, and she was not about to begin to do so now. At this moment, he was more than likely on his way home from the Yard. She would know immediately if he had been allowed to see his wife just by looking in his eyes.

She had always loved those murky greenish-brown depths, filled with mirth for most of his childhood and teenage years; they had only hardened after William's death. When she had met him at the port, the hardness was gone, replaced by the love he obviously felt for the woman beside him. Yesterday, as his wife was taken away in handcuffs, the love was tempered by the hardness. This time, however, she knew that if Marguerite was not acquitted, the harsh gleam would return in totality likely never to be erased again.

A murmur of voices from the hall stilled her thoughts. John was home, and by the tone of the conversation, was mildly unhappy. Certainly not the rage she had expected so she gathered the inspector had allowed some type of visit. Without ceremony, he pushed open the doors to her solarium and entered. She gestured for him to join her at the table and, with little introduction, related what she had discovered.

"She's been my wife for little more than two weeks and she's facing a death sentence?" he shouted, shoving his chair back and rising to stalk toward the window.

His mother winced at the impotent violence of his actions, but offered no comment. Now was not the time for decorum. "John, if its one thing about you that I know, you're very resourceful when it comes to the people you love. You'll figure out something."

"And we'll be here to help you," interjected Malone from the doorway. Challenger stood just behind him. Both were men a welcome sight; just as they could be trusted to do on the plateau, reinforcements had arrived. Roxton glanced from his friends back to his mother.

"You didn't think we would abandon you when we heard the news, did you?" Challenger asked as they entered the room.

Roxton shook his head, still unable to believe their unexpected appearance. "You two have your own lives to return to. Malone, what about your promise to Veronica? This trial is certain to drag out past the date you gave her."

Malone offered him a reassuring smile. "Veronica will understand. She may not be too happy with me for a while, but she will understand. Besides, I've found something that's worth the wait."

Challenger agreed. "We're a family, John, and families don't disappear when difficult situations occur."

Accepting the men at their word, John nodded and indicated both should sit. "Well, then, since we've settled the particulars," Lady Roxton said as she handed the professor a cup of tea, "do either of you know anything about Marguerite's history?"

Challenger shook his head and grinned wryly. "That woman keeps her secrets closer than her jewels."

Roxton smiled in spite of the circumstances. "In four years, I know little more about her past than when we were first lost."

"There was one time, though…" Malone began, his brow furrowed with thought. "Early on, a German pilot from the War got caught in the updrafts and crash landed."

"I remember Summerlee mentioning that a German biplane appeared one day. And you remember those visions we saw," Challenger agreed.

"Based on Marguerite's reaction and later conversations between the two of them," Malone leaned forward in the wingback, warming to the tale, "they obviously knew each other. I never did figure out how, but his parting remark always made me wonder."

Roxton, not having heard this story before, asked, "What did he say?"

"Something about us not knowing the kind of woman she really was," the reporter
answered, shrugging at the lord's obvious curiosity.

"Well, what the devil was that supposed to mean?"

"At the time, I didn't have a clue. Now, I wonder if he knew something about her history as a spy. She later thanked us for protecting her from him, but never said a word more on the subject." He gestured helplessly uncertain if the information hurt more than aided the situation.

Challenger swallowed the last of his tea and set the cup aside. "Do you remember the pilot's name? We might be able to contact him."

Startled by the proposition, Lady Roxton said, "Won't that help the prosecution's case? After all, you haven't any idea as to what the man was referring when he mentioned Marguerite's past."

The trio turned to Roxton who had been silent for several minutes. "John?" his mother prompted.

The lord pursed his lips, carefully weighing all the options. After a moment, he spoke. "According to Wilkite, the evidence against her is almost insurmountable. I don't believe we truly have a choice in the matter. If he has information that could clear her, we need to find him."

Challenger offered him a supportive smile and nodded. "Then we'd best begin. Malone, you still have contacts from the War, correct?"

"Yeah," he replied rising from the chair, "I'll give them a call now and see if we can track him down." As he left the room, he paused and squeezed the hunter's shoulder. "We'll bring her home, Roxton," he murmured.

***

The next morning, promptly at eight o'clock, the Queen's Court, the highest office of the British judicial system, was called to order. Marguerite and Wilkite stood respectively behind the defense table, their actions mirrored by the prosecutor, a highly capable barrister by the name of Reginald Merriweather. Both counsels wore the crimson robes and white wigs that were required of their positions.

The Lord Chief Justice of England, head of the Queen's Bench and the most senior judge in England and Wales, sat behind the bench, an imposing figure of a man whose ruddy complexion spoke of a quick temper and an impatience for courtroom shenanigans.

"Due to the seriousness of the charges against your client, Mr. Wilkite, I have ordered that the trial proceed post-haste. With jury selection complete, I expect we will begin immediately unless there is any issue?" The judge's dark look quelled any objections the defense counsel might have made and Marguerite felt her heart sink.

By all appearances, she would be unable to use any of her usual tactics to free herself from the situation. Not that she truly wanted to resort to such measures, but old habits did not disappear easily. Sparing a glance for John, who sat in the front row of the gallery immediately behind her, she steeled herself to stay the course she had already resolved to follow. Honor, as her husband had shown on multiple occasions, dictated nothing less.

Accepting the silence, the chief justice nodded and instructed, "Mr. Merriweather, you may open."

The prosecutor returned the nod with grave assent and rose to approach the panel. "My lord, gentlemen of the jury, I wish to thank you for your presence today in a matter of utmost importance to the continued safety of our country. Before you is Marguerite Krux, a woman of independent means and multiple talents. She, who was born a British citizen and raised in our boarding schools, has showed no loyalty to her birth country. She, in fact, is accused of spying for Germany during the Great War.

"The Crown will prove this accusation brought forth by none other than a German citizen through the presentation of testimony and evidence that will illustrate the depth of this woman's guilt. Throughout this trial, I ask that you ponder how many of our men died because of her actions. The defense will try to sway you stating that she spied for the love of her country. But how, in any imagining, could such actions equate to love, I ask you? She is a traitor of the first order. I know it, she knows it, and, by the end of the trial, you, too, shall know it and justice shall be served." The attorney offered a slight bow to the lord chief justice indicating his finish to which the judge waved a hand.

"Call your first witness."

"My lord, please the court, I call Herr Wilhelm von Gutenburg."

Marguerite moved slightly in her seat. This was to be the first time since her husband's funeral that she had seen her step-son. If one could even call him that. Having never known the boy while she was married to his father, she was shocked at the funeral to find him almost a copy of her dead husband. Now as the young man walked into the gallery, she caught herself again at the startling comparison to Freiderich.

Freiderich von Gutenburg, at one time, held the third most powerful position in the Kaiser's government, that of the head of the Intelligence Department. She had been directed by Trader that Gutenburg was to be her target throughout her assignment and was authorized to use any available tactic to get close to him. It just so happened that marriage had been paramount on the man's mind at the time.

Her second husband under her cover name and in her real life, Marguerite had walked down the aisle to him with more than a little reluctance, but had also known her directives had been clear. If the Allies wanted to win, then every measure was to be taken regardless of how unappealing to the agent.

Shaking the memory away, she watched as her accuser was sworn in and the Queen's
Counsel stood to begin the examination. "Herr von Gutenburg, will you please relate to the court your relationship to the defendant."

The young German grimaced. "She *was* my step-mother."

"And how did she come about marrying your father?"

"At the time, I was with my attachment in Egypt so I'm not fully certain how they met. All that I do know is that I received a letter from my father in July 1916 stating that he had married and hoped to introduce us when I was next on leave."

"And, did you meet her on your next leave?"

"After a fashion. I met her at my father's funeral. He was supposedly killed by a stray bullet in a crowd." He shot Marguerite a dark, telling look.

"At the time, did you know she was a spy?"

The young man shook his head. "Not until much later after she'd returned to wherever she'd come from. I was reviewing several of my father's personal belongings in storage when I discovered several papers that were not written in his hand."

"And what did these papers reference?"

"Several suspected British camps in and around Syria."

"My lord, I present Prosecution's exhibits A through C," Merriweather stated as handed a sheaf of papers to the bailiff, who, in turn presented them to the judge. "These are official, unclassified intelligence documents from the German government. At the bottom, you will see the name Bettina Haasdorf penned in what is assuredly Marguerite Krux's handwriting. Thank you, Herr von Gutenburg. No further questions, my lord."

"Mr. Wilkite? Cross?"

"Yes, your lordship." Wilkite rose and walked toward the witness. "Herr von Gutenburg, did you see my client complete these documents or sign them?"

"That is impossible. As I stated previously, I was stationed in Egypt during the time of their marriage."

"So, 'no' would be your answer then? I thought as much. Is it possible that these documents are forgeries?"

"Objection, my lord, the witness is not trained to determine authenticity."

"Noted and sustained."

"Herr von Gutenburg, it is obvious that you hold some sort of malice towards Miss Krux. Why is that?"

"I believe she is responsible for my father's death. She was among those in the crowd that day according to reports. It would have been easy for her to hide a gun."

"But what motivation could she possibly have? If she was indeed spying for the
Germans, as you claim, why kill her husband, who as the head of the intelligence
division, was perhaps her greatest protector?"

"Women do strange things."

"Was there any reason to suspect that she might have been spying for more than just the Germans?"

"As I said, I was not there at the time. I only know what I have pieced together from my father's personal belongings."

Knowing he was stymied but hopeful that he had at least placed a grain of doubt into the jurors' minds, Wilkite indicated he was finished with the witness.

"Mr. Merriweather, call your next witness."

"The prosecution calls Herr Rudolf Himmler."

The man was duly sworn in and the prosecutor began his examination. "Herr Himmler, what was your position during the war?"

"I was attached to the German Intelligence Agency and served as a code-breaker for much of my time there."

"At any time were you given orders regarding the attainment of intelligence from the field?"

"The German Intelligence Agency was given direction by the head of the department that we should expect to receive information from a new source regarding British activities. I assumed at the time that our previous contact had been killed."

"Did you ever meet this new contact?"

"Yes, on multiple occasions. She always forwarded the news in person, in her own *special* way."

Marguerite stifled an outraged shout at the man's subtle inference which allowed the jury members' minds to surmise what they would. Behind her, she could feel Roxton bristle at the insinuation. She leaned toward Wilkite and whispered, "He's lying. I *never* slept with him!" The barrister nodded, but was unable to object to the witness' testimony since the comment had been so vague.

"And do you see that person in the courtroom?"

"Yes, it is the defendant, Marguerite Krux."

***

9/?

After several more prosecution witnesses, each, it seemed, more damaging than the previous, the trial had been halted for the night. Wilkite was scheduled to begin his defense in the morning and had left the interrogation room a few minutes earlier after a brief review of the evidence with his client. They had agreed that she would not take the stand in her defense since no hard evidence had been located to corroborate her story.

Wilkite had determined there was no need to risk undermining an already shaky case and make her an easy target of the Queen's Counsel, who was by all accounts a man who enjoyed tearing down defendants. Marguerite leaned back against the cold stone wall and wondered for the hundredth time how she had reached this point. Then she remembered: the explorers had found a way off the plateau.

A knock interrupted the woman's turbulent thoughts. "Lady Roxton," greeted a startled Marguerite as the older woman was escorted into the interview room. Expecting the family barrister, the brunette ran her hand through the masses of tangles trying to straighten them only to give up the effort when the dowager smiled and placed a staying hand on her arm.

"It's quite alright, my dear. I wouldn't imagine you to look your best under these conditions."

Marguerite offered a wan smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Please, um, sit down," she invited gesturing to the rickety wooden chair in the corner.

Lady Roxton gracefully lowered herself as if she were about to sit on a Louis XIV chair paying little attention to the humbleness of her surroundings. Marguerite admired the woman's aplomb, knowing that she probably had never been near Newgate prison much less visited a prisoner. Uncertain why the dowager was here, Marguerite cleared her throat.

Taking pity on her son's wife, Lady Roxton flashed a benevolent smile. "Since my son has requested that I not appear in the courtroom, I feel somewhat cut off. Besides, we haven't yet had a chance to visit. John is very forthcoming about your attributes, but he has hardly mentioned your past. What prompted you to fund the expedition?"

Marguerite stifled a surprised cough and answered with artful finesse, "Well, I had some extra cash lying around and wanted a vacation."

The dowager cocked an unamused eyebrow to which the heiress rolled her eyes and
added, "It is partially true. I did have the funds, but the vacation was taken more by force than free will. I had amassed...a debt...if you will and the claimant was insistent upon…repayment...at a time when it was not possible."

Though it was obvious the older woman was not convinced by Marguerite's explanation, she made no comment otherwise and instead asked, "Had you not met John prior to the expedition? I realize he isn't often in town, but you would travel in the same social circles."

The younger woman shook her head. "No, we hadn't met at the time; I was busy settling a family estate after the death of my husband."

"You were married?"

"Yes, he was, um, killed during the war."

"Oh, my dear, I am sorry. Then I am doubly glad that you've found happiness again."

Marguerite smiled warmly, though she didn't elaborate on the circumstances of her husband's death. She could never admit to the truth that Wilhelm only surmised, namely that she herself had pulled the trigger when it became obvious Freidrich suspected her of being more than she claimed.

Wary of further pursuance of the topic at hand, the heiress sighed and changed the subject. "As much as I hated being stranded there, I must admit, the plateau was the best thing that could have happened to me. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to come home more than anyone else, but my idea of home was the place I had left, not this one where I'm public enemy number one."

"My dear, I do understand the luxury of being able to begin life as another person. When I married John's father, I wasn't from a noble birth. I came from an upper class family, but my father was a heavy gambler and squandered most of my inheritance at the track or at the gaming halls. When he died, we were nearly penniless.

"Edward and I had been neighbors and friends as children, but family duty took him away and we hadn't seen each other since that time. I was surprised that he remembered me, when we met up in town, but he did. Later, he said that he had loved me for a long time. He had just been too scared to go against his father's wishes at the time and ask to court me. When I told him about my father and that I had no dowry to offer, a shocked look appeared on his face and he took my hand in his and he said, 'I only want you. That's dowry enough.'"

Marguerite chuckled. "So that's where John's silver tongue comes from. There are times when I could kill him and then a moment later, he says something so totally unexpectedly sweet that it throws me off guard."

"Yes, he's always had a way with the ladies, though I don't believe he has much experience with love itself. I must say, I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. And he does love *you*, my girl, never doubt that for a minute."

The younger Lady Roxton nodded thoughtfully. "I know. I think I've known all along."

***

When court reconvened the next morning, Marguerite found herself bolstered by the surprising support of John's mother who had braved her son's anger and now sat beside him in the gallery. The dowager smiled reassuringly at her daughter-in-law as the guard released her to her seat behind the defense table. Marguerite returned the smile with slight hesitation though she warmed noticeably when her gaze moved to Roxton.

As soon as the Lord Chief Justice entered and took his seat at the bench, he nodded to Wilkite and the defense's portion of the trial commenced. "My lord, gentlemen of the jury," began the Roxton family barrister, "my client, Marguerite Krux, has done many things in the past that she is not proud of. As, I am certain, have several of you. But one her mistakes was not spying for the Germans during the War. She, in fact, was under direct orders from the Crown and any undertaking she took part in was in the hope of a betterment of the Allied position.

"You cannot convict my client on what will appear to be fact, but, in actuality, is merely coincidence. We will not present a lengthy case before you because I believe that you, the jury, are able to ascertain what is the truth from what is obviously fiction. Marguerite Krux is an upstanding citizen of Great Britain who has proven her loyalty to her friends and her country on multiple occasions and, thus, is wrongly accused of the charges."

"Call your first witness," the Lord Chief Justice ordered.

"Please the court, I request the appearance of Professor George Challenger."

Challenger walked through the gates and tossed a reassuring smile toward Marguerite. Having been called as a character witness, he was certain his testimony would only aid in her defense. After being duly sworn in, the professor turned to Wilkite.

"Professor Challenger, what circumstances brought about your introduction to my
client?"

"Four years ago, I was presenting evidence of a lost world at the monthly Zoological Society meeting. She offered to fund the expedition when it was clear the Society had neither the desire nor the funds to do so."

"And was her funding contingent upon anything?"

"Only that she be allowed to join the expedition."

"Once you had compiled the team and all the necessary items had been obtained, were you able to get to know her any better? That is to say, did you ever discover the reasons behind her monetary donation?"

"She only stated that she had recently come into a measure of wealth due the passing of a relative. I honestly didn't question her motives."

"While you were on the plateau, in this Lost World of yours, did she ever give you reason to suspect she was more than she seemed?"

"Marguerite is very secretive, and at first, self-preservation was her ultimate goal, but after a few months, she began to change and over time looked at our group as somewhat a surrogate family."

"Do you trust her?"

"Implicitly. She's saved every member of the group's lives multiple times."

"So, is she, in your opinion, capable of severing all ties with her birth country and betraying it so heinously as the prosecution infers?"

"Marguerite Krux is capable of many things. She's a learned scholar who graduated from Oxford, is an exceptional linguist and possesses an amazing talent with gemstones. However, when she gives a person or thing her loyalty, though hard-won, it is there's forever. So, no, sir, I do not believe her capable of spying for the enemy."

"Nothing further, my lord."

"Mr. Merriweather?"

"Yes, my lord, I do wish to cross. Professor Challenger, you stated that you never pressed the defendant for further information as to how she obtained this fortune other than she had inherited it, correct?"

"That is correct."

"Would it surprise you to note that while a large sum of money was deposited into a Swiss bank account in her name, it wasn't on or around the time of your presentation nor subsequent departure for this so-called Lost World?"

"People die every day, counselor, that doesn't mean their estates are settled as easily."

"Quite so. But if you will refer to Prosecution's exhibits D and E, will you read the date of the largest transaction?"

"November 18, 1916."

"Are you familiar with the finer points of the Great War?"

"I am."

"And what significance does that date possess?"

Challenger looked from the document to Marguerite, stunned by the possibility. "Its two days after General Haig declared defeat at the Battle of the Somme."

"That is correct; a four month battle during which Great Britain lost roughly 400,000 men and also in which, Sir Henry Rawlinson had received assurances by intelligence that there would be no German resistance."

"Coincidence. It must be."

"Do you think so? Please reference Prosecution exhibit E. What is the date of the largest deposit?"

"May 31, 1917, the day Haig's forces withdrew from the offensive at Arras."

"Is that, too, a coincidence?"

"Objection, your lordship, the professor is not a military figure nor was he involved in the intelligence portion of the War."

"Objection noted and sustained. Mr. Merriweather, please refrain from asking for opinions from the witness when he is not in possession of sufficient knowledge to give credible testimony."

"Yes, my lord. Given the evidence that I've presented to you, Professor Challenger, do you still believe that Miss Krux happened to inherit such a substantial amount of money based on the death of a relative?"

The question was greeted by silence.

"No further questions, your lordship."

"The witness is excused."

Challenger stepped down from the witness box and glanced at Marguerite with new eyes. He hadn't thought it possible that she would betray the world to the Germans, but remembering her behavior prior to being lost on the plateau and the subsequent months, he began to doubt his convictions. Marguerite smiled wanly at him, reading the disappointment and reservation in his gaze. As a man of science, he would, first and foremost, place his belief in fact and she knew that the incontrovertible proof had already been laid at his feet.

"Mr. Wilkite, call your next witness."

"If it pleases your lordship and the court, the defense requests the appearance of Herr Hans Dieter," Wilkite requested. The rear doors opened and the former World War I flying ace waltzed nonchalantly into the courtroom.

He tossed a sardonic smile toward Marguerite and a whispered, "Liebschen, just where I always knew you would end up. Do you feel the noose slowly tightening about your neck?"

The woman swallowed the urge to return the insult knowing it would not help her case. Instead, she turned away and faced the judge, completely ignoring the pilot. A dark chuckle answered her as he continued through the low gates that separated the barristers from the gallery. He ascended the steps to the witness box and patiently waited for the questions to begin.

"How do you know the defendant?"

"I met Frauline Krux at a party given by the German military officials in celebration of our victory at Jutland in May, 1916. She was introduced to me by the German head of Intelligence as Frau Bettina Haasdorf, a recently widowed Belgian citizen. Apparently, she had been in German society for some time prior to that."

"And what is your association with her?"

Dieter smiled coldly. "We were lovers for a short time. She liked men in uniform. German uniforms to be exact."

"Did you on any occasion witness Miss Krux divulging British military secrets?"

"I did. Once, right before the attack at Sinai. I saw her with the secretary to the Intelligence Division."

"You did say she liked German officers, could they have been discussing other things besides the War effort?"

"No, I overheard her mention the railhead specifically and that British troops were stationed there. As you know General von Kressenstein was dispatched to the area not long after to engage the enemy."

"Now, correct me if I'm in error, but wasn't that skirmish easily won by the British troops?"

"No, you are correct, approximately 5,000 Turkish men under the general's command were killed that day while the British only lost 1,100."

"I wonder, given the supposed advanced knowledge that the German forces had, that the British were still able to defeat them?"

"I believe the saying goes, 'Ours is not to wonder why, ours is but to fight and die.'"

"If it please the court, I would like to return to this subject at a later time. Were you ever, at any time, given cause to speculate as to Miss Krux's loyalty to the German state?"

"I'm not certain that I understand your question."

"Did you ever suspect that she might be leaking German intelligence to the Allies?"

"No, never."

"Not at any time?"

"That is what I said."

"Asked and answered, my lord," interjected the prosecutor.

"Quite right," agreed the Lord Chief Justice. "Move along, Mr. Wilkite."

"I have no further questions at this time, your Grace."

"Very well, if the Crown does not wish to cross-examine, the witness is excused. We will break for lunch and return at two o'clock when we will hear closing arguments."

Outside the courtroom, Roxton grabbed Dieter by the shirt collar and shoved him up against the wall. "You lied!"

"Of course I did. After all, why should *we* try your wife for aiding the enemy when *your* own people are so eager to hang her for treason?"

"Roxton," cautioned Malone who glanced surreptitiously from the lord to the police officer just down the hall, "now is not the time." He shook his head at the quelling look John shot him and placed a restraining hand on his arm. "Later, most definitely, I'll even hold him down for you. But right now, Marguerite needs you. If you get thrown out of the courtroom..."

Cursing silently, Roxton shoved the pilot once more against the wall then released him.

"So once again, you make the wrong choice and protect a woman such as that. I do truly pity you, especially you, Lord Roxton, for marrying her." Dieter flashed them an insincere smile before turning and walking down the hall.

"There may be another way, Roxton," Malone soothed as the older man gave his jacket a sharp tug, pulling it back into place.

"I'm listening."

Malone shook his head. "Look I don't want to get your hopes up…it may be nothing."

"Fine, fine. Just whatever you do, do it fast," Roxton bit out in a brusque tone. Stifling the urge to ram his fist through the mahogany paneled wall, he continued, "This trial is little more than a sham as it is; regardless of how many witnesses Wilkite is planning on presenting, judging by the jurors' faces, Marguerite will be convicted today and hang tomorrow."

***


...to be continued...

Author's note: All the German officers and WWI battles are historically accurate (although embellished slightly -- creative license! :-)) with the exception of the von Gutenburgs, Himmler, and Dieter.