'Industrial Revolution'

Morning - Mon. 10th Sept 1888.

n infuriating day at work. Difficult to concentrate on the mundane affairs of treaties with the Americans, trade with Germany and access to the Suez Canal. They were nothing compared to the mystery he was involved with now.

Well at least he'd put enquiries down the pipeline about the Russians. Hopefully something would come from that. Now what's the time. Ten O'clock. Three hours before lunch. Ah !

Lunchtime, when it finally arrived, saw Bing scurrying across London to the Science Museum. Two shillings for the cab. Professor Maxwell was in and Bing was shown in immediately to the man's cluttered study.

"Good afternoon Mr Richardson. Have you eaten yet ? No well lets go. I know a little place just down the road. Sells the most delightful steak and kidney. Here take my arm, we'll talk as we walk. This way." Said the professor as he dragged Bing from the room.

"A pretty pickle you set us Bing. I hope you don't mind me calling you Bing. No, good. I prefer informal chats anyway. Well I showed those photographs of yours to a few of my friends. Confused them no end. I wasn't able to show them to Sir Aubrey Basildon Smythe unfortunately. He seems to have disappeared somewhere. Down to Brighton I wouldn't be surprised ! Well I did show them to Dr Cheval over at the Institute and he was the only one that came up with any sort of theory. The automata was no problem, clearly recognisable as Dower's work. The helmet contraption with these miniature hydraulic pistons, the good Doctor thought was something to relieve the pressure on the brain pans of registered schizophrenics. As a cure that is, not a torture. We're not quacks in the nineteenth century you know.

The lunch which followed would have been very pleasant, but for the Professors incessant chatter over every course. A relief to get away.

"Mr Richardson ?" A grossly fat man came into Bing's office, without knocking.

"Yes." Bing replies coldly. Pointedly staring at the door.

"I'm Chief Inspector Brownlow. Special Branch. I'd like to ask you a few questions concerning your activities of last night."

"Go ahead."

Brownlow eases his bulk into a chair, which creaks with the effort and mops his face with a spotted handkerchief.

"I understand you were in Chigwell last night, visiting Miss Dower when an incident occurred ?"

Bing inclined his head in assent.

"Could you tell me again what happened ?"

Bing told him plainly what he'd told the inspector last night. Brownlow didn't refer to a notebook at all.

"Thank you Mr Richardson, now can you tell me why you're so interested in this incident as to make enquiries about the office of the Russians ?"

"When you are involved in a 'shoot-out' with Russians, my curiosity is piqued. Perhaps you could tell me about them ?"

"mm Why not. We've had a man following them for the past couple of days; so we know a bit about them. They're led by a ruthless chap called Ignatichev. Anyway, we had a tip off that they had a secret device which they could use to interrogate people. Naturally we wanted to know, can't have a bunch of Ruskies running around torturing our scientists, politicians and soldiers to get information out of them. I've no idea what they were doing in Chigwell last night or why they were fighting the anarchists. Perhaps they had a falling out."

"The anarchists ?"

"Yes the masked men. Well I've stopped long enough. Let me know if you find anything out !"

"Good bye."