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pay attention to the issue at hand.”
    Stokes ceased wiping his shoes and looked immediately flustered. He stammered something incoherent, which Newbury decided to take as an apology. Foulkes tried to cover his laughter at the man’s expression with a loud cough.
    Newbury met Foulkes’s eyes. “I think the next logical step is for me to examine the wreckage.”
    “I’m sure that will be acceptable to Mr. Stokes.” The Inspector shot the lawyer a sideways glance. “But I will warn you, Sir Maurice, it is a disturbing experience. I toured the remains of the vessel as soon as it was cool enough to go aboard, and I assure you, it’s no place for a lady.” He made a point of stressing these last few words.
    Newbury was unperturbed. “I appreciate your candour, Inspector Foulkes. Of course, it’s up to the lady to decide for herself. Allow me to consult with Miss Hobbes in private for a short while.” With that he turned his back on the two men and drew Veronica to one side, under the shadow of the bandstand.
    “Miss Hobbes. Veronica. I would not presume to ask you to follow me into the horror of this wreck. I did, after all, hire you to assist me in my academic pursuits, and not to risk life and limb clambering after me into the still smouldering carcass of a downed airship.” He paused, giving his words time to sink in. “I’d be very happy if you preferred to wait for me here instead.”
    Veronica crossed her arms. “That’s all very well, Sir Maurice, but what if you miss something fundamental? Surely a second pair of eyes would prove useful, especially when one considers the sheer size of the wreckage?”
    Newbury smiled, trying to conceal his pleasure at her response. “Very good. Well, better pucker up that resolve, my dear. It’s going to be dangerous, dirty and pretty horrific in there.” He was about to move off when another thought occurred to him. “Oh, and hang on to that handkerchief too. I suspect the smell will be unbearable as we get closer.”
    Newbury returned to stand beside Inspector Foulkes. “Miss Hobbes intends to attend the scene alongside me.”
    Foulkes looked ready to object, before Newbury caught his eye. “I assure you I’ll look after the lady’s well being. Now, what’s the best way into the wreck from here?”
    Stokes answered. “The ship came down nose first, so the rear of the ship retains the bulk of its shape whilst the sub-frame at the front of the vessel has compacted, making it difficult to enter. I’d suggest you find your way around the left hand side,” he indicated with a wave of his hand, “and enter through the main cabin door on the side of the gondola. I’m not sure what it is you’re hoping to find in there, though, Sir Maurice. In truth it’s nothing but a burnt-out husk.”
    Newbury shrugged. “I’ll know it when I see it, no doubt. Thank you for your assistance, gentlemen. We shall return presently, before the light begins to wane.” He turned and offered Veronica his arm.
    Foulkes watched as the two Crown investigators, entirely incongruous in their formal attire, began making their way towards the huge, shattered structure on the park green, cautiously stepping around the still-smouldering piles of debris as they walked.
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
    The wreck of The Lady Armitage was like the carcass of some ancient, primordial beast; the skein of rubber-coated fabric that served as the outer skin of the vessel now burnt and torn like peeling flesh. The sub-structure of iron girders jutted into the sky like broken ribs, blackened by the soot and heat and buckled from the impact. The engine housing, at the rear of the wreckage, looked relatively intact, although in truth it was hard to tell, as much of it was buried in the earth where the impact had driven it into the ground. The passenger gondola, usually situated underneath the belly of the ship, had been forced upwards and backwards, puncturing the underside of the vessel and