Will Thomas - Fatal Enquiry

“What will you do with the young Dalai Lama?”

“Hold him for ransom, of course. We’ll see how much gold and precious stones the country is hoarding.”

“Would you kill him?” I asked.

“If it suits my plans,” he said, as if we were discussing something as innocuous as betting on a horse. “Five Dalai Lamas have died in the past several years, mostly by poisoning. Dalai Lamas rarely reach maturity these days. They’ll simply send monks out to locate another one among the native population, like pigs hunting truffles.”

“We discussed this plan years ago, didn’t we, before India became part of the Empire?” Barker asked. “If Tibet falls, Nepal would be sandwiched between British colonies and could be easily taken. The other countries in the region would fall like dominoes. It is a sound plan, I must admit. It’s dangerous, certainly, but then you always did enjoy a little risk in your endeavors.”

Nightwine flicked the ash from his cigarette into a glass tray. “It’s nice to know there is someone who understands me as well as you.”

“I understand you perfectly. Of course, you are not going to succeed. I intend to stop you.”

Nightwine considered this. “You’re welcome to try, but I warn you, it shan’t be as easy as your little trick at the dock. For one thing, you’ve acquired a lot of human baggage about you.” So saying, he trained the pistol on me. “You know, you really need to do something about this assistant of yours. He’s far too pretty. He just doesn’t lend that level of gravitas a private enquiry agency requires. You should leave him with me sometime. I’ll plane off some of his more delicate features.”

“Thank you, Sebastian, but I believe we shall keep Mr. Llewelyn as he is,” Barker murmured.

“Suit yourself,” he said, curling his lip in a sneer.

“This scheme of yours is vast and complicated,” the Guv continued. “The odds against your success are astronomical. You are far more likely to take an arrow to the chest or fall down a crevasse in the attempt.”

“Spare me the false concern for my welfare, Cyrus. Don’t you ever grow tired of trying to spoil people’s plans? Are you too unimaginative to think up any of your own?”

“As I recall,” Barker countered, “I did make plans. I came to London and opened a respectable agency. I bought a house and an office, I hired an assistant. I put away schemes. This plan of yours, brilliant as it is, is merely a pipe dream.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. It is my pension. I’ve proven to Her Majesty’s government that I’m an officer in whom it can give its trust.”

“I rather think you will disappoint them, Sebastian. It’s always been part of your character to deal from the bottom of the deck. As I recall, when you told me the first version of this master plan of yours years ago, you intended to sell Tibet to the highest bidder.”

“Do you doubt my patriotism?” he asked mockingly. “Britain, my home country, will be given first choice. Surely you don’t intend for me to be more generous than that.”

“And if China or Russia offers more?” I asked.

“Then Britain will simply have to make a higher offer. It is the way of the marketplace. There is nothing wrong with trying to get the most for one’s assets.”

“It’s not going to work,” Cyrus Barker said.

“That’s right. You’re going to stop me. In case you haven’t noticed, you are incapable of stopping so much as a nosebleed. Your accounts are blocked, this morning I doubled the price on your head, and there is no man willing to call you friend.”

“I have more friends than you think, Sebastian.”

“Then you should warn them to avoid you during the present crisis. This is not a safe time to have Cyrus Barker for a friend.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on the warning.”

“I hope you enjoy being chased out of churches and off barges, not knowing where your next meal is coming from. That packet of money you made in China has not insulated you from the hard times in life. It has been a fine recompense for the public humiliation you afforded me at St. Katharine Docks by the moneylenders.”

“If I had not humiliated you, would you have still laid this false trail and put a price on my head?” Barker asked.

“You left your dagger behind before. It seemed a shame not to use it. Let me ask you this in return. If I had not put Scotland Yard on your tail, would you have allowed me to transact business with the Foreign Office free from interference?”

“Not a chance.”

There was a sudden knock at the door. I hazarded a guess that it was the detective who had realized he’d been duped.

“There you are, then. It appears this meeting is at an end.”

Barker stood and I followed his lead, wondering if we were just going to stroll out the door like club members.

Nightwine put out his cigarette. “I’m not sorry I had him killed, you know.”

Cautiously, I turned to my employer. He suddenly had the admission of guilt he had waited for. I studied his face in that moment, wondering what his reaction would be. Barker was coiled, ready to snap.

“My brother, or Andrew McClain?”

“Finally hit a nerve, have I?” Nightwine said.

The knocking increased in volume until it was pounding. If I knew Scotland Yard bureaucracy, the detective would have to get permission before breaking down the door.

It was a fine door, white, with various panels. It seemed a shame to damage it.

“I believe that is our cue to leave, lad,” Barker said.

He crossed to a window and lifted the sash. It had begun raining and wind and rain came spattering in, lifting Nightwine’s maps momentarily, so he was forced to hold them down. By the time I reached the window Barker had already jumped out. I saw him land on the street below. Looking down at the ten-foot drop, I wondered if I would break my leg.

The door burst open behind me and I jumped. Barker steadied me as I landed on the hard and uneven cobblestones. My feet hurt like the devil, but I didn’t injure myself permanently. While the detective yelled overhead, the two of us sprinted down Pall Mall Street. When we finally stopped, we raised our collars and thrust our hands into our pockets, headed toward Waterloo Bridge and the relative safety of the Surrey side.

“I thought you were going to explode in there.”

“I very nearly did.”

“That man wants your guts for garters,” I remarked, as we trotted along in the rain. “What did we accomplish by going there? We came within a hairsbreadth of being arrested.”

Barker stopped and shook his head like a dog, sending droplets everywhere. “I went because I wanted to prove to him that I was not afraid of him and he was still vulnerable.

“We both know that this is the time and place we shall end our twenty-five-year feud.”

“Is there any chance of getting some food today? My stomach’s wrapped around my backbone.”

“You worry too much about the condition of your stomach.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s been my loyal friend these many years.”

“When we get back, perhaps you can sell my old suit for enough to fill your belly tonight.”

“What about you? You’ve got to keep up your strength, you know.”

We marched in a steady downpour, the rain drizzling down the backs of our necks. I’m not a hardship sort of fellow. If I had known I would become a private enquiry agent, instead of the poet or university don I’d set my cap to, I would have better prepared myself.

“What provoked this sudden return to the West on Nightwine’s part?”

“I would say he received a positive response to his query regarding an expedition to Lhasa. I do not believe it is the idea that was so new. Rather, it is the maps he had gathered. No European has successfully cartographed the Himalayas before. It is a blank on the map.”