The Science of Submission Read online

  “It has perfectly matched large star sapphires, surrounded by diamonds around the perimeter with the largest stone set in the center as a dropping,” Mrs. Darling said

  “Oh my goodness,” Marjorie exclaimed. “That sounds similar to a necklace I have.”

  “Perhaps it is a reproduction, it probably is,” the elderly matron assured the young Duchess. “In fact, I’m sure of it, my dear. Fashions do seem to come back around if one waits long enough, do they not?” the matron added, all three of her chins wobbling in agreement. “You’ll have to wear it to the reception and compare it to the original. I’m sure that would be most entertaining. Do you have it with you?”

  “I will have to go through my jewels and see if I brought it. I never know for certain what the servants have packed. That would be jolly fun to wear it to the reception, wouldn’t it?” she said, turning to Stefan. He smiled at her with encouragement. Now it would not be at all strange to anyone for her to wear the necklace that night. Marjorie was turning out to be an invaluable asset.

  Unfortunately, the topic of conversation turned to current fashions and Stefan was never able to bring it back to the necklace, but that was all right. He did not wish to overplay his hand by showing too much interest in the jewels. He had all the information he needed. He sifted through the rest of the invitations that their guests had been kind enough to bring and chose two more events occurring that week, both held before the reception. That way the high society of Boston would be used to the two of them and not pay them undue attention at the reception.

  The key to the success of the heist would be a weapon Archibald had given him that had come about due to his study of time travel. After their guests had departed, Stefan brought the weapon out from its hiding place, a secret compartment in his valise. He showed it to Marjorie, it was made of metal, wood and glass. The steam pistol’s handle fit perfectly in the palm of his hand but the bronze barrel was quite plump, much bigger around than a pistol. It had a long narrow nozzle that telescoped out into a wider circle at the end.

  He explained to Marjorie that Archibald had called it a ray gun. It was designed to stop time in its tracks if only for a very few seconds. Only the person wielding the weapon would be able to move about during that time. Stefan needed every moment the ray gun would give him to swap the necklaces. And it was imperative that the weapon be easy to produce and equally easy to hide back away. He wasn’t comfortable abandoning it somewhere afterwards. Unfortunately, he did not know how long time would be frozen. Archibald had warned him that it would only work once, so he had not had the opportunity to test it. He frowned at that, he did not like dealing with the unknown during a heist in which every detail had to be perfect.

  The week flew by and soon it was the night of the reception. With her hair done up, wearing the new ballgown and necklace, Marjorie was a revelation. The ‘Duchess of Hampfordshire,’ would one day soon make a brilliant Countess of Whitehall, he knew without a doubt. He took her in his arms, being careful not to muss her hair.

  “You are beautiful beyond words, my dear, both in your little dresses and a gown of this nature. I shall be ever so proud to have you on my arm this night.”

  Marjorie blinded him with a dazzling smile. “Hopefully we won’t attract too much attention.”

  “Attraction and distraction are two very different things my dear, hopefully we can use both to our advantage,” Stefan replied.

  They entered the museum walking up a red carpet. There were people standing on the sidewalk oohing and aahing as the various people walked in, resplendent in their formal apparel. There were even photographers snapping pictures as the upper crust strolled by. Stefan was uncomfortable about having their picture taken but there seemed no way to avoid it and so they posed good-naturedly. After they entered the museum, they stood to the side, sipping champagne and eating refreshments that came their way. Stefan scoped out the room, there seemed to be even less security than during their daytime visit. Well why would they increase security? Only the best people had been invited to this event, so they probably felt that the necklace and other valuables were safer than usual.

  Stefan had the exact moment in mind when he planned to make his move. If this event went the way that most did, first there would be speeches given, a history of the piece, the American’s congratulating themselves on having such a fine piece, the matrons expressing dismay at the loss of the necklace and then the honorary presentation of the piece to the Director of the San Francisco museum.

  As visiting British nobility, he had been asked to say a few words. Afterwards, at just the right moment, with just the right distraction, he would make his move, exchanging the fake necklace for the real one right before the case was closed for shipping.

  He and Marjorie had rehearsed their roles in the necklace swap until they could have done it in their sleep. Stefan’s only concern was that, to his eye, the fake did not look nearly as glorious as the original. He could tell at a glance which necklace was the real one and which the reproduction, therefore the museum people would be able to tell as well. It was important to make the swap right before the necklace was being locked away for transportation.

  Stefan and Marjorie watched as the various guests mingled about the room, the upper echelon of society preening for one another. They were greeted warmly by several and introduced to several more.

  “Your necklace is lovely my dear,” Mrs. Darling announced while peering at the necklace through her lorgnette. “It however, pales by comparison to the Jewel of the Mediterranean. I don’t think anyone would mistake one for the other, even without the use of a magnifying monocle.”

  The program began and soon Stefan was introduced and began his speech. “I am extremely honored to be a part of this event. Our Queen Charlotte’s gracious gesture of presenting the necklace to your great first lady, Martha Washington, was a proud moment for both of our countries. It served as a gesture of good will towards your budding new nation and it gives me the greatest of pleasure to be here tonight. My duchess and I are grateful that we were here in time to view the necklace with our own eyes before it is to be transported to its new destination. Just as it gave heart to the new country of those United States, it will bring encouragement to the establishment of the western United States.” His speech was met with enthusiastic applause and then it was the turn of the mayor to speak.

  As the local dignitaries droned on, Marjorie made it to his side. He had stepped off the dais and planted himself before the necklace, blocking it’s view from the audience. As Marjorie came up beside him, he put his arm around her. With the hand she had behind his back, she inserted the hardened piece of resin into the glass case. She waited until applause erupted for the mayor’s speech and clicked the case open. Stefan slid his hand up her back to the base of her neck. He had practiced unfastening the necklace repeatedly until he could do it without looking. Marjorie nestled more closely in to him, the signal that she had the original in her hands. He unfastened the necklace around her neck and whisked it off with a slight of hand that he hoped no one had detected. Marjorie stood away from him and gasped as if she was feeling the clasp on her necklace break, holding the real necklace up to her neck. Stefan reached behind his back and jostled the replication into place in the glass case, then reached over as if to help his wife with her falling necklace. While doing so, he dropped the resin key and crushed it under his heel and then reached up to affix the real necklace around Marjorie’s neck. To casual observers it would look as if her necklace had come undone and her husband was helping her reattach it.

  Just as he had the pistol in his hands to freeze time, to complete the exchange, there was a blinding light, a flash of yellow and Stefan recoiled. He felt the ray gun wrenched out of his hands. He looked around, shocked and realized that he was no longer holding the pistol and the lid of the box holding the “Jewel of the Mediterranean” was wide open. The reproduction was not where it was supposed to be though. He looked at Marjorie, “Did your necklace
fall my dear?” he asked, as he realized that she did not have the original around her neck after all, wondering if it had fallen down the bodice of her dress.

  “No, it was wrenched from my hands … “ she looked up at Stefan, ashen at the realization that the Jewel of the Mediterranean had disappeared. They both turned and looked at the glass case in time to realize that the reproduction was not in its proper place. It had slid down off of the velvet it was supposed to lie on and half of it was sticking out of the glass case, the lid ajar!

  “The necklace! Where is the necklace!” Mrs. Darling cried.

  “This is not the Jewel of the Mediterranean,” the Museum Director announced, grabbing the fake. “This is a reproduction.”

  Suddenly angry faces were turned in their direction. They had been the closest to the missing necklace.

  “What have you done with the necklace?” The Museum Director was asking, staring at Marjorie’s bare neck. “How did you make the swap? Turn it over at once!”

  The U.S. Marshall sprang into action, taking Marjorie into his custody. Stefan’s hands were wrenched behind him and he was handcuffed. He bristled at watching the U.S. Marshall handling Marjorie. The fellow’s hands were all over her in a most disrespectful fashion. He struggled as he was led out of the museum, losing sight of the U.S. Marshall and his wife. His “wife”, he would think later, as he sat bereft and alone in his cell in the Boston jail house. At that moment, he had thought of Marjorie as his wife. That was their alias, of course, but the emotion had come from a much deeper place.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Stefan sat in his cell, his head in his hands, in despair at the mission’s failure. Now acquiring the necklace would be twice as difficult and another would have to be sent to retrieve it. He could never be seen near it again. This would be the first time he had failed the Council of the Dragon. And he had let down Marjorie, as well. His beloved fiancée, an innocent flower, was now locked away from his sight in another cell. Stefan could not bear the thought that harm might come to her due to his own carelessness.

  He rang his fingers through his hair and then stood up and began to pace. How had it all gone so very wrong? That flash of light, what was that? It had caused him to recoil, to pause at a pivotal moment and that led to their discovery. The looks upon the Bostonians faces as he and Marjorie had been led out in handcuffs, the memory was unbearable. But now that he thought about it, he realized that it had begun to go wrong even before the flash of yellow that had nearly blinded him. Marjorie said the necklace had mysteriously been wrenched out of her grasp and then disappeared into thin air, as the ray gun had been taken from him. The ray gun—it could be anywhere, in anyone’s unsuspecting possession. Whoever had it would be unaware of its powers.

  He had been thoroughly searched as soon as they’d reached his cell, his clothing gone over carefully. He was certain that Marjorie had endured the same treatment. When the necklace had not turned up, he had been interrogated for hours. He could tell them nothing because he had no idea what had happened to it. He told them honestly that it had disappeared in a yellow blur. Without the necklace, they could not be charged with its theft. However, they were still prime suspects because they had been caught making the exchange. By rights they should have been released by now, but until the necklace was located he suspected they would remain incarcerated.

  The next day they were taken to the courthouse before a judge who set their bail at $1,000 each—a tremendous amount. At least Stefan was able to stand next to Marjorie and ascertain that she was well and unharmed. He was unable to reassure her however, knowing that the Gatekeepers would not take action to secure their release. They would not risk linking themselves to the botched burglary. The captain and Professor Pretzer had been instructed to remain on the yacht. They undoubtedly were unaware of their fate. There seemed to be no hope.

  He was startled out of his revery by one of Boston’s finest rapping on the bars of his cell with his stick. “Wake up, your bail has been posted!” the warden said. Stefan looked up at him, was this some kind of a joke? He was given his belongings back and reunited with Marjorie. He looked her over carefully, she seemed none the worse for wear. The gate was opened and they were ejected out on to the sidewalk after being warned not to attempt to leave town.

  As he and Marjorie emerged into the sun, they shielded their eyes from the blinding light. Jail had not suited Stefan, he looked rather the worse for wear. He had not had the services of a manservant, nor the means by which to attend to his usual extensive toilette. Marjorie, however, looked as fresh as a daisy, beautiful as ever.

  “Who posted our bail?” Marjorie asked, bewildered, blinking in the sun.

  “I did.” A voice behind them said.

  They turned to see an elderly man, his long white hair pulled back in a band. He was dressed in a yellow slicker that fell to his boot tops. He also sported a black top hat that had a pair of familiar looking goggles around the brim. Stefan and Marjorie both stared at him, puzzled. There was something about him vaguely familiar.

  “The two of you look like you could use a bite to eat. There’s a café just down the street, come with me.”

  They looked at each other and shrugged and followed after him. Soon they found themselves seated at an outdoor café in the sunshine with their rescuer. Marjorie stared at him, unable to look away. His eyes…those goggles…he smiled at her, waiting patiently to be recognized.

  “Sir, you remind me of someone from my past.”

  “Is that all your former fiancé means to you? Just ‘someone from your past’?” he asked, slightly hurt.

  Stefan and Marjorie looked at each other, puzzled expressions on their faces. All at once, in unison they turned and shouted, “ARCHIBALD?” Dear lord, was it possible?

  “Archie dear, is that really you? It cannot be, my eyes are deceiving me.” Marjorie said, looking as if she might swoon dead away.

  “Surely you must be a relative of his, perhaps a great uncle?” Stefan suggested, unwilling to believe the evidence in front of his eyes.

  “I can assure you that I am the Archibald Westerly of your acquaintance. When last you saw me, I was twenty-four, I am now sixty-four.”

  “Your time machine—it works!” Stefan shouted, then looked around and furtively lowered his voice. “You are here from the future.”

  Archibald smiled. ”Yes, indeed, my good fellow. I have worked hard over the years perfecting my inventions, including The Time Trekker, my ‘tour de force’ if you will. I have lived a good life, a full life and have become exceedingly wealthy. But the one thing that always bothered me was the fate of Marjorie. Even though Mrs. Marsh repeatedly pointed out to me that you and Professor Pretzer and Marjorie had all disappeared at the same time, it was years before I could accept the notion that you had spirited her away.

  Stefan had the decency to look ashamed of himself. “I wholeheartedly apologize, Archibald. What can I say? I am a selfish beast, never considering the pain her disappearance would cause her loved ones.

  “Eventually word of your marriage reached my ears.” Archibald continued. “At first I was angry, but mostly relieved. I had begun to fear for both of your fates. What I have come to ask is are you truly happy, dear Marjorie?” he said looking deeply into her eyes.

  “I am completely fulfilled, Archie dear. With Stefan I have found a happiness I never dreamt of. But, I want you to know that I truly cared about you. And you, Archie dear, have you had a happy life?”

  “Indeed I have, I am blessed with a most loving wife, six grown children, and seven grandchildren. A healthy, happy, lively bunch.”

  “Why, Archibald, whom did you marry?” Lord Stefan asked, surprised.

  “A young lady by the name of Hilary Hamilton,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye.

  “My-my sister?” Marjorie, asked, blinking at him. She could not take in what she was hearing. “It did not bother you that she is…rather…plain?”

  “Not when she smiles,” Archie replie
d. “Your sister was very kind to me in the aftermath of your disappearance. At one point the body of a blond young woman was found and we went together to identify it. We bonded deeply that night in our shared relief that it was not you. I became very close to your little family and wished that they would become mine. Eventually Hilary and I wed.”

  “That’s extraordinary!” Stefan interjected.

  “I believe it all worked out for the best. I suspect that Hilary was much more suited than her glamorous sister to life with an absent-minded scientist like me. I would say that life as an adventuress seems to suit you well, my dear,” he said looking Marjorie over. Even after a stint in prison, she looked as beautiful as he remembered. “That is a good thing, as you two have many exciting adventures to come,” he hinted with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Then I’m happy for both of you and glad you had someone to turn to for comfort.” Marjorie said, giving her blessing. It gave her great peace of mind to know that her family had been safe with Archie and had not unduly struggled after her disappearance.

  “So tell me, my good fellow. How did you find us?” Stefan asked.

  “When I became wealthy, I hired a private investigator to track your whereabouts through the years. It was very hard to do because you traveled under several different identities and most of your movements were furtive. The one time that we were able to pinpoint your exact location was when you were arrested in Boston on April 11, 1877. And so, here I am.”

  Stefan ran his fingers through his hair, the three-day growth of beard on his face made him look very rakish indeed. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Archibald, again I apologize for putting you and Marjorie’s mother and sister through such a nightmare. I will strive to be more thoughtful in the future and not so self-centered.”