Free The Affinity Bridge by George Mann Page B

business with The Lady Armitage} 99 He looked suddenly serious. “A truly lamentable affair.”
    Newbury nodded. “Yes. Have you visited the site of the wreckage yourself, Mr. Chapman?”
    “No.” He paused to take another draw on his cigarette. “Unfortunately, I was previously engaged—a small matter to resolve with my banker—so I took the liberty of relying on my legal representative, Mr. Stokes.”
    Newbury stiffened. “Yes, I spoke with Mr. Stokes for a brief while yesterday.”
    Chapman smiled knowingly. “Terrible bore, isn’t he? Seems to be the way with these legal chaps. Dependable, though. I trust he gave you everything you required?”
    It was Newbury’s turn to smile. “In a manner of speaking. Nevertheless, I thought it wise to pay you a visit this afternoon, in an effort to get a better understanding of your operation, and to see for myself these automatons that Stokes mentioned.”
    Chapman’s eyes seemed to light up. “Ah, the automatons. Villiers’s prized creations. They are impressive machines, Sir Maurice, if you have not yet seen one?”
    Newbury glanced at Veronica. “Indeed not. I would certainly welcome a demonstration.”
    “I’m sure that can be arranged.” He reached over and crumpled his cigarette in the ashtray. “And you, Miss Hobbes. I’m sure you’d find the machines equally as impressive.”
“I’m sure I would, Mr. Chapman.”
    Newbury looked up at the sound of rapping on the door, and then Soames entered, bearing their tea on a large platter. He crossed the room and placed it on the table before them. Chapman watched him turn and leave, waiting until the last moment to call after him. “Thank you, Soames.”
    Newbury scratched his chin absently. “So, Mr. Chapman, Mr. Stokes mentioned yesterday that one of these remarkable new automatons was behind the controls of The Lady Armitage when she went down?” Veronica studied the other man’s face, watching for a reaction.
    He remained impassive. “Quite possible. I believe around half of the fleet is now piloted by the machines. We even have a Royal charter. Remarkable, really, when you come to think of it.”
    “Quite.” Newbury paused. “Mr. Chapman, I’m not sure if you’re aware of all of the circumstances surrounding the disaster yesterday morning?”
    Chapman looked puzzled. “Mr. Stokes provided me with a thorough report of his findings. I also spoke with Inspector Foulkes of Scotland Yard. I’d imagine myself to be in full possession of the facts.”
    “Did Mr. Stokes’s report make reference to the fact that the pilot of the vessel appeared to be missing from the wreckage?”
    Chapman fished around in his waistcoat pocket, searching out his silver cigarette case. He flicked it open and withdrew one of the small white sticks, then offered the case around to the others. When they didn’t accept he slipped it back into his pocket and struck a match with a loud rasp. Smoke billowed around his face as he regarded Newbury. “He made mention of the fact that the unit in question had been destroyed in the impact.”
    Newbury met his gaze. “I find that very difficult to believe, Mr. Chapman. I understand the skeletal frames of these automatons are constructed out of brass?”
“Correct.”
    “Then why were their no remnants of the unit in evidence anywhere onboard the ship? Both Miss Hobbes and I toured the wreckage and I can assure you, there was nothing to be found.”
    Chapman poured the tea, his face thoughtful. “Well, if Mr. Stokes’s assertions are correct, the unit may have burnt up in the fires that followed the crash.”
    Newbury sipped from his teacup. “Come now, Mr. Chapman. We both know that the heat in that wreckage would never have reached a temperature enough to incinerate brass. There has to be another explanation.”
    Chapman shrugged apologetically. “Perhaps it survived the incident and clambered out of the wreckage, wandering away into the park?”
    “The police are certainly