Paul Gilbert - The Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes

‘Leaving so soon, Dr Watson?’ he asked of me, evidently surprised at my hasty departure. ‘However, with two Holmes brothers in attendance, I am certain of obtaining all the clarification I should require.’ The redoubtable representative of Scotland Yard spat out these words with heavy irony and a malicious grin played on his weaselly features.

‘No doubt, Inspector. So, if you will excuse me …’ With a brief touch on the brim of my hat I continued my hurried departure. My journey to and from our rooms at Baker Street was as expeditious as it was uneventful, save for a chance encounter with Mrs Hudson, the brevity of which clearly left her somewhat put out. I arrived back at Mycroft’s office within the hour, duly laden with Holmes’s accoutrements of disguise.

‘Hah, Watson!’ Before I had even closed the door behind me Holmes had bounded across the room to ensure that nothing had been left behind. ‘Excellent. You know, Watson, you have been as reliable as always. Now, whilst I ready my brother for his incognito journey to Baker Street – I decided it would be safest if he returns with us for the time being – I should be grateful if you would try to occupy the ever industrious Lestrade for the next fifteen minutes or so. Oh, Watson, it has indeed been a most splendid treat. Once he received the merest hint of a significant case coming his way he has been darting frenetically around like a blindfolded whirling dervish!’

‘Surely, Holmes, you might spare a moment or two to relate to me the outcome of his interview with you both?’ I half-heartedly requested.

‘There will be time enough for that later.’ Holmes replied brusquely. ‘For now, however, our priority must be to spirit Mycroft away from the building with all due haste.’

Reluctantly I retired from the room once more, and went off to find the Inspector. He spared me the effort, however, by calling out to me upon his leaving the security office.

‘Well, Doctor,’ he began, ‘I am glad to have run into you. This really is a most puzzling affair, would you not say? I mean, garrotting, well that is a most strange way of committing a murder for a start! As for your friend and his brother, they must be two of the most inscrutable gentlemen I have ever encountered. I am certain that they are withholding important information, although what that might be I really would not care to say. Perhaps you could enlighten me, Doctor?’

‘I doubt that I could add very much to what they have already told you. I am as much in the dark as they surely are. However, perhaps we could take a turn outside,’ I suggested, gesturing towards the main entrance whilst offering Lestrade a cigarette. This he duly accepted and while we strolled slowly around the building’s extensive perimeter, he clumsily attempted to extricate any clue that I might have been able to furnish him with. In this he was wholly unsuccessful. I was certain that Holmes and Mycroft would have been equally reticent in revealing the nature of Naismith’s recent work, and I could not be certain as to how much of Moriarty’s involvement in it Holmes would have divulged at this time. Therefore, I decided to lament upon my being treated by both Mr Holmes and his brother as a hapless bystander and expressed my concern at the continued threat to Mycroft’s life. This much, I was certain, had already been divulged to Lestrade, for without his cooperation the ruse of feigning Mycroft’s death would have been all but impossible.

By the time we had returned to Mycroft’s office his transformation had been completed. Standing there before us was a somewhat enlarged, duplication of George Naismith himself, with Mycroft Holmes nowhere to be seen. Holmes had eased Mycroft’s facial ageing with some greasepaint, covered his thinning hair with a subtle grey wig, and affixed a small, neatly clipped beard to his chin. Last of all, and to Mycroft’s obvious chagrin, Holmes had thinned down somewhat his brother’s esteemed and well cultivated ‘mutton-chops’.

‘Good gracious, Holmes! I would almost swear to Naismith’s having been raised from the dead!’ I exclaimed, barely able to contain my excitement.

‘The thing is quite remarkable, Mr Holmes,’ said Lestrade, more soberly. ‘Once again you have displayed a further reason for us at the Yard, to be grateful that you are working on the side of justice. By the way, I have followed your instructions to the letter and to avoid attracting attention to the building, all my officers have now stood down. It is not quite our way of doing things, but past experience has shown to me the benefit in trusting to your instincts. Apprehending Parker would certainly be a feather in my cap,’ Lestrade concluded wistfully.

‘First things first, Lestrade. Is the carriage awaiting us immediately outside?’ Holmes asked anxiously. ‘Despite our theatrics I wish to expose my brother to public gaze only for as brief a time as is necessary.’

‘Indeed it is, Mr Holmes, but I assure you the success of your masquerade has eliminated any risk to your brother. Any lingering observer, even Parker himself, would assume that we were apprehending Naismith, under suspicion of having murdered his superior.’

Holmes clapped his hands in a self-congratulatory manner. ‘Excellent! Lestrade, I expect you can make your own way to Scotland Yard from Baker Street, for I do not wish to interrupt our journey.’ Thereupon Mycroft draped Naismith’s coat about his shoulders and the four of us made our way to the awaiting brougham outside.

The journey to Baker Street was, mercifully, uneventful and within a short while Mrs Hudson was furnishing us all with a large pot of hot strong tea and kindling a cheery fire.

Once we were all seated Holmes took up his old clay pipe and filled it from the Persian slipper, full of strong tobacco, that he kept on the mantelpiece. I knew at once, from his choice of pipe, that he was troubled by the recent course of events and that some serious analysis was called for. To my surprise he decided to outline for both Mycroft and Lestrade the thought processes and deductions that had led to his conclusion that Moriarty was, indeed, still alive. [See the Dying Gaul from Book 1; the statue alluded to at the beginning of this story]. Despite the instinctively cynical nature of both of his listeners, his analysis was too sharp and precise for either of them to question a single word or explanation.

‘My goodness, Sherlock, that is a most amazing conclusion you have reached, yet I can find no flaw in your reasoning. From what you have explained, Professor Moriarty is undoubtedly the instigator of this fellow Parker’s attempt on my life,’ Mycroft commented.

‘No doubt bent on revenge for your having slain his brother, the colonel, at the Reichenbach Falls,’ Lestrade chipped in.

‘No doubt, no doubt … however …’ Holmes took his pipe to his chair, where he sat, legs crossed, drawing long and hard, and deep in thought. We three stared at him in silent expectation, for a moment or two, until I decided to air a thought of my own.

‘Holmes, can we now assume that having contented himself with the supposed death of Mycroft, Moriarty will now consider the matter as concluded? Or will he seek for his final vengeance upon you?’

‘When you consider the lengthy and meticulous planning that usually precedes the execution of Moriarty’s schemes I should presume that the murder of Mycroft was merely another step along the pathway to my ultimate destruction. I should say that my life is in graver danger now than it has ever been,’ Holmes replied. ‘However, there is still the question of the “master swindler”, Baron Maupertuis,’ he concluded thoughtfully.

‘Honourable though this sentiment surely is, does not defrauding Lady Beasant of her not inconsiderable fortune pale into insignificance when compared to your own life-threatening, predicament?’ I ventured.