Commissioner Henderson arrived at the India Office just in time for the meeting. He was a man who prided himself on being punctual. In fact, he was a man who prided himself on being many things: punctual, intelligent, steadfast, resolute… In many ways, Commissioner Henderson saw himself as a great man among the likes of Warren Hastings and Robert Clive. After all, he didn’t reach his current station without being anything other than beyond exemplary.
Taking a moment to neaten his appearance and clear his throat, Commissioner Henderson confidently entered the opulent Council Chamber, where fellow accomplished men sat in hushed whispers.
“Good morning, Commissioner,” greeted the Duke of Argyll, “please take a seat.”
As instructed, Commissioner Henderson took the remaining seat by the elaborate fireplace depicting Britannia receiving the riches of the East Indies. He greeted his fellow attendees with a polite nod. Some new, some old, but all important to the continued prosperity of Her Majesty’s Empire. The fact Commissioner Henderson sat among them was proof of his eminence.
“Thank you all for making it on such short notice,” began the Duke, “rest assured, I have good news as to the progress of our scheme to elevate our great empire to new heights.”
“Enough with the pleasantries, Mr Secretary,” interrupted one of the attendees, a balding man with wispy whites Commissioner Henderson recognised as Sir Frederick Currie, the Chairman of the Company, “tell us, has our investment proven successful?”
“Indeed, it has, my honourable friend,” a smug grin stretched across the Duke’s face, “allow me to demonstrate.”
The room fell into complete silence as the Duke retrieved an ornamental lamp from his portmanteau. Commissioner Henderson quickly recognised it as the same emerald-inscribed lamp from the Duke’s office. Why he saw it fit to bring a glorified mantelpiece to a serious meeting such as this? Commission Henderson had no idea.
Quite bizarrely, the Duke carefully rubbed the ornamental lamp, the entire room fixed on him with curious anticipation. A few moments passed in this manner as Commissioner Henderson fought the urge to burst into uncontrollable laughter when suddenly an explosion of purple smoke filled the room, sending the men into a surprised frenzy.
“Goodness me!” exclaimed one of the attendees, his monocle falling from his eye socket.
Only the Duke remained unphased.
As the smoke cleared and attendees settled, Commissioner Henderson was stunned to see Mr Daim standing in the centre of the room. Only now, the once infuriatingly cheerful Mr Daim was beset with a melancholy expression, his eyes downcast as though his mind was entirely elsewhere.
“The gentleman you see standing before you is none other than Mr Dame. The genie we’ve been surveilling for the past year,” explained the Duke, “and this…”
The Duke placed the ornamental lamp onto the large conference table encircling his subject.
“This is the key to untold power.”
“We’re well aware genies are more than mere children’s tales, Mr Secretary,” interjected the Chairman, sceptical as always, “now tell us how we stand to earn profit.”
“Very well,” acquiesced the Duke before directing his attention to Mr Daim, “genie, light the fireplace.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Mr Daim clicked his fingers, causing the elaborate fireplace to suddenly alight with an intense fury. Commissioner Henderson instinctively jumped back, almost toppling out of his chair.
“Genie, levitate,” continued the Duke.
Like a puppet on a string, Mr Daim began to levitate.
“Genie, open the windows.”
Mr Daim opened the windows, allowing a cool breeze to enter the astounded Council Chamber. Whatever the Duke’s will, Mr Daim diligently performed without question in expressionless obedience.
“Allow me,” entreated an overenthusiastic aristocrat on the far side of the room, “genie, uh… Oh! Lift this table!”
Mr Daim refused to budge.
“The genie only responds to the one who summons it,” elucidated the Duke, “but rest assured, in time, we will have an entire army to command at will. Hundreds of lamps just like this are due to be shipped to our colonies in the coming months. The first of which set sail tomorrow night. Soon, we will capture genies like Mr Dame across the empire.”
“I see…” contemplated the Chairman, “and what of Prime Minister Gladstone? Has he anything to say on the matter?”
“Prime Minister Gladstone is yet to be informed. I believe it best to let things get well underway before bringing him in lest his liberal morals get in the way.”
“Are you not a member of the Liberal Party yourself, Mr Secretary?”
“Yes, I am. Only I mean to say that Prime Minister Gladstone’s evangelicalism may lead him to mistakenly believe genies are worthy of our sympathy,” clarified the Duke, “gentlemen, do not be fooled by Mr Dame’s appearance. Though they may appear to us as human, genies are anything but. Rather, their existence presents us with an opportunity to free humanity from the toil of labour and propel our civilisation to new heights. Think of the industrial progress and scientific advancements we’ll be able to make should we seize the advantage and bring them under our heel. Not to mention the financial gain that stands to be had.”
And with that, the entire room erupted into thunderous applause. Commissioner Henderson couldn’t help but join in. He was witnessing history. Humanity was about to enter a new age, and he was among those leading the charge.
The Chairman raised his hand, the attendees descending into silence as they awaited his words.
“I must say, Mr Secretary, you have outdone yourself. But I must also ask: what of the one they call ‘Spring-Heeled Jack’? I trust you remember how he’s been a thorn in our side for quite some time now. You promised you’d bring him in, yet he still remains at large.”
“Indeed, I did, my honourable friend, and trust I have not forgotten. While I did face considerable setbacks at first – on account of Commissioner Henderson’s incompetence – I now believe I have Spring-Heeled Jack exactly where I want him.”
All eyes turned to Commissioner Henderson as he sank into his chair with that last remark. It wasn’t easy trying to catch a jinni. Especially one as wily as Spring-Heeled Jack. He’d love to see any one of those men try their hand at it.
“Very well, Mr Secretary. I trust you to get the job done,” assented the Chairman, “you have the full resources of the honourable Company at your disposal. Is that all?”
“Yes, you may all return to your duties. I shall call on you again when I have news worthy of your attention,” concluded the Duke.
The attendees bid their farewells, gleefully leaving the Council Chamber one by one, pleased with the prospect of future prosperity, a stark contrast to Mr Daim’s abject despondency.
Commissioner Henderson was just about to leave when the Duke politely beckoned him to stay. He wasn’t too keen on doing so but remained hopeful the Duke would apologise for embarrassing him in front of the assembly.
“Would you please close the door for a moment, Commissioner?”
Commissioner Henderson obliged.
“Thank you,” responded the Duke before turning to Mr Daim, “genie, close the windows.”
As commanded, Mr Daim closed the windows.
“Before you begin, Mr Secretary. I would just like to say you are forgiven,” blurted Commissioner Henderson, “I understand you were merely frustrated with my lack of results – for which I sincerely apologise – and therefore did not truly mean what you said about my ‘incompetence’. I promise to have Spring-Heeled Jack in your custody as soon as fate deems it appropriate.”
“Right…. Except I no longer require your assistance.”
Commissioner Henderson was confused.
“I don’t understand.”
“You have failed me far too often, Commissioner,” rebuked the Duke, “and frankly, I’m certain Captain Robertson will do a much better job of capturing Spring-Heeled Jack.”
“And how do you suppose he’ll do that?”
A sly smile crept across Commissioner Henderson’s face; he finally had the upper hand on the Duke.
“Especially considering Spring-Heeled Jack has been taken care of as far as he’s concerned. It was your idea to lie to him, after all.”
“Yes, it was,” assented the Duke, “but, you see, that’s the difference between you and him. He is not a fool.”
Commissioner Henderson’s sly smile quickly disappeared.
“Captain Robertson figured out you lied to him and has already concocted a scheme to deliver Spring-Heeled Jack right to me. Far more than you’ve ever done.”
“And what of Mr Dame?” questioned Commissioner Henderson, “Captain Robertson has grown fond of him. He won’t take kindly to knowing you’ve bound his friend to perpetual servitude.”
“How very attentive of you, Commissioner. Indeed, you are right,” sighed the Duke, “what a shame you failed to demonstrate such attentiveness before.”
The Duke paused to stare at the ornamental lamp in quiet contemplation. Commissioner Henderson couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
What is he going to do?
“And that is why I cannot risk him finding out,” answered the Duke, “genie, silence the Commissioner.”
Mr Daim turned to face Commissioner Henderson, the jinni’s cold expression sending a chill up his spine. Terror froze Commissioner Henderson to the spot as the jinni moved to fulfil his master’s bidding. The only sound was muffled screams failing to penetrate the walls of the Council Chamber.
To be continued…
This is part of a larger series called Midnights in London