The Scottish Ploy Read online

  “A penny for your thoughts, Guthrie,” said Mycroft Holmes as he roamed around the room.

  I shook my head. “It is just that I am troubled by the way in which the Brotherhood appear to have used your strengths against you, as you remarked earlier. I am also curious why they should chose to focus their attention on you: why not the Prime Minister, or some other, more visible, member of the government? I mean you no disrespect, sir,” I added hastily. “But if their intention is to render Britain impotent in European affairs, there must be more obvious ways to do it, one that would cause wide-spread embarrassment and bring about more upheaval than your compromise would. This whole venture is aimed at you, to lessen your authority and to cause the Admiralty to doubt you.”

  “That was obvious once their ruse was recognized,” said Holmes with a nod. “Revenge is a factor, of course. I have been a thorn in their sides for many years now. It is also possible that they do not want their activities to be obvious enough to throw the government into chaos, at least not right now. They may prefer to drain away British influence and then pull down the country when it has lost the confidence of Europe. In which case, they would have to fix their efforts on me, or someone like me. I suspect that Vickers played no small part in developing this device.”

  “It does not trouble you that they set out to destroy your credibility?” I was appalled at his self-possession. “Do you not feel smirched?”

  “On the contrary, Guthrie. For the first time since this began, I feel my strength returning. I think that the Brotherhood may have overstepped themselves. They have undertaken to work against me so particularly that they have given themselves away.” He clapped his hands together. “The dispatches are in the cases under the window, are they not?”

  “I believe so,” I said. “It is where I put them.”

  “Excellent,” he said, going to lift the lid of the long case. He rummaged about in the long stacks of folders—for all the world like a hog after truffles—and pulled out two of the folders. “Here they are,” he exclaimed, and pulled them out in triumph. “Guthrie, you take the Constantinople dispatches and I will take the European ones.”

  “What precisely am I looking for?” I asked, thinking my headache would not soon be gone.

  “I am not certain. But you will know it when you see it. Your recent ten days in Asia Minor should serve you well.” His enthusiasm was increasing. “You and I will find the key. I am convinced of it. Persevere, my boy, persevere.”

  I opened the folder and looked at the collection of reports, telegrams, bulletins, and other such material that made up the contents. Just looking at the names brought back the whole of the experience to me, and I had to swallow hard against the many impressions that welled up in me. This was no time for maundering, I told myself, and I set myself to the methodical perusal of all the various collection of facts, rumors, and conjectures that had come to the Admiralty from Turkish territory in the last two months.

  An hour later, when I had sorted nine of the dispatches into three stacks, Mycroft Holmes interrupted my concentration. “Your note has been delivered.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” I looked about me, noticing how dark the day had become, with the storm continuing and the muted shadows of afternoon closing in. As I pinched the bridge of my nose, a snout of flame winked a few feet away: Mycroft Holmes had lit the nearest gaslight. A moment later, a second lamp flared, and soon the study was bright and cheery.

  “Have you discovered anything thus far, Guthrie?” Holmes inquired as he came back to the table to sit down.

  “Not a great deal,” I had to say. “This stack contains information that would appear to have nothing to do with our current situation. This stack might have some bearing on current developments. And this stack has information dealing directly or indirectly with the Brotherhood. The second dispatch is the most telling of the four in the pile.”

  “Good work, Guthrie,” said Mycroft Holmes. ‘This is what I have come to expect of you.”

  I saw that he had reviewed nearly twice as much as I had, and I took the praise as being as much for my efforts as my results. “You have not been behind the times in your work.”

  “Ah, but European dispatches are much more readily evaluated regarding the Brotherhood than are those from the East,” said Holmes. “I rely upon you, because of your recent activities, to comprehend the contexts of the dispatches better than I would be able to do without extensive cross-referencing.” He regarded his own work. “On the other hand, I see European dispatches almost daily.”

  “But you are persuaded the two are connected?” I knew it was tempting to see activities of the Brotherhood everywhere, and to attribute all our difficulties to their nefarious intervention, but it was also oversimplifying a very complex world.

  “Beyond doubt,” said Mycroft Holmes. “And I should think you would agree, seeing that you and Sutton discerned it.” He stretched and yawned. “And speaking of Sutton, as he is not here, I must soon ready myself to cross the street to the club.”

  “In this storm?” I asked.

  “In any weather,” said Holmes. “Besides, we English must honor our storms: as winter is the guardian of Russia, so storms are the guardians of England.” He cocked a brow at me. “I should think a Scot could agree on that point.”

  “I’ll concede you have a point, sir,” I said with a hesitant smile.

  “I’ll accept that,” said Holmes. “When I come back from the club, you and I will dine, and then we’ll see how much more there is to do.”

  “How late do you think we will have to work?” I could imagine the work going on long into the night, but I didn’t want to say as much.

  “It will depend on how quickly we find what we are looking for,” said Mycroft Holmes merrily. “If we do not come upon the information we seek, we’ll put a stop to this at ten, if that will suit you?”

  “That is a good hour,” I said, not looking forward to the task of getting home. I realized some of my reluctance was linked to my mishap in the Green Park; I solaced myself with the realization that no assassin would want to be out on such as night as this one, and that the very tempest that distressed me also protected me.

  “My dear Guthrie, I know I demand a great deal of you. You have dedication and loyalty that cannot be found everywhere; you have a first-rate mind and you can think for yourself, which is a rarer combination than you might suppose. If we were not in such a muddle, I would gladly send you home as soon as we have eaten, but we cannot do that, not with Braaten and Vickers prowling like wolves at our door.” Mycroft Holmes began to pace again, this time twiddling his watch-fob, a sign of his dismay. “We were very nearly trapped this time, and that concerns me. It also alerts me, for which I am grateful, for it means that we have a narrow opportunity in which to prepare to deal with whatever it is that the Brotherhood is planning: we may be certain that their return to England is but the first step in a much larger plan, and one which will be increasingly difficult to stop, like an avalanche in the Alps, that can bring down tons of snow once it begins to move. This is just another such avalanche, and we have a small snippet of time in which to halt its progress, or lessen its severity. It behooves us to do all in our power to end their intrigue before it is fully in motion. We must not flag now that we have the chance to stop the damage.” He picked up a few of the dispatches, frowning down at them. “I cannot help but wonder why they should link the crumbling Ottoman Empire with Britain, and how they seek to manipulate the two to their advantage. When I have found the answer to that, we will be on the way to ending this gambit.”

  “Could that link be another attempt to mislead us?” I suggested.

  “It is possible, but it seems unlikely, at least at this stage of our discoveries. I am concerned about Eastern Europe in all this. There are ancient animosities in that part of the world that might be used to topple governments or brin
g about endless, small wars that would leach the countries of resources as well as disrupt the commerce and industry of the entire region; any country so vitiated would be a prize for the Brotherhood to pluck.” He took a deep breath. “Remember that Lady MacMillian’s estates are in the eastern part of Germany, in the Czech region.”

  “Yes, so they are. And they have had difficulties in that region, if my memory serves,” I said; I had not thought of that until Holmes mentioned it. Now it seemed as obvious as a guinea in a coal scuttle. “The Czechs have not had an easy time of it of late.”

  “No, they have not,” said Holmes. “Nor have the Slovaks, or the Poles, or Austro-Hungarians, particularly on their eastern and southern borders.” He came up to me. “It would take so little to ignite that region, from Greece to Latvia.”

  “But the danger would not—” I stopped. “Oh,” I said. “The treaties.”

  “Exactly: the treaties,” said Mycroft Holmes grimly. “The Brotherhood could embroil all Europe in war if they could drag the larger powers into the regional fighting because of the treaties. So far the major powers have struggled to maintain the stability of all Europe. Even Nicholas wants stability for Russia—you will recall he sponsored those talks on arms limitation?—so that there may be real reforms in his vast country. But if Eastern Europe erupts, who shall be safe? Britain has been able to use her influence to keep the Continent fairly peaceful.”

  “And should continue to be able to do so for a good many more years,” I said, knowing this was among Mycroft Holmes’ highest goals.

  “Yes. So long as England is stable. But if the Brotherhood gets into the government, then who is to say how long that stability can survive? We might be pulled into any number of conflicts from which we would be unable to extricate ourselves, no matter how urgently we might wish to. This gambit with Lady MacMillian is just a rehearsal, and in miniature, at that, for how it might play out.” He came to a halt near the fireplace. “We must make them see that England will not be party to any such petty disputes as they may try to create.”

  “A pity that Sir Cameron is being played for a fool,” I said, not without irony.

  “That it is, Guthrie,” said Mycroft Holmes with a sigh. “But what are we to do? I do not think he would heed any warning we offered him.”

  “Is there someone he might listen to?” I asked, unable to think of anyone myself.

  “I doubt it,” said Holmes. “He is not inclined to listen to any counsel but his own.”

  I took this in, and then said, “Do you think Lady MacMillian is part of this? Is she acting for the Brotherhood knowingly?”

  “I have no notion,” said Holmes. “And that worries me, I must tell you.” He stared down into the fire. “If she is only a tool, then we need not worry about what she says to Sir Cameron. But if she is part of their association, then she becomes much more dangerous and problematic.”

  “Do you plan to speak with her yourself?” I did not think he would wish to make such a direct approach, but he had used such disarming methods in the past.

  “Not unless all else fails,” said Mycroft Holmes.

  “Why would it? We have discovered their ruse and they do not know it,” I said, with more confidence than I felt. “Does not that give us the advantage?”

  “Briefly, perhaps,” Holmes allowed. “But they will have more than one means of achieving their goals, or I am mistaken in my understanding of the Brotherhood.” He touched the place on his wrist where there was a darkened scar—the same place Brotherhood initiates had their tattoos. I wondered again how he came to have it.

  “If the answers lie in the pages, we shall find them. And if we should be fined for working on the Sabbath, I’ll pay my portion gladly.” I meant every syllable, though I knew my good, religious mother would be shocked to hear me utter such sentiments.

  “I don’t imagine we will have reason to worry,” said Mycroft Holmes. “Who is to report us: Tyers?”

  I dutifully laughed at his remark, but I thought again of the men who opposed us, and what they would do if ever they managed to remove Mycroft Holmes from his post. They were not inclined to honor the Sabbath and keep it holy; in fact, they held all such exercises in contempt. They would be stopped by nothing short of arrest or death, and death was surer than imprisoning such dire men. I realized I was more than prepared to kill them in cold blood, and that caused me a pang of anguish. What was I becoming? Standing against them was shaping me to their demands as surely as if I had joined their numbers. Flustered, I picked up the dispatches before me and forced myself to read.

  “Guthrie,” said Holmes, his voice a quiet rumble, “I do realize how much you do for me. I have complete confidence in you.”

  “You are good to say so, sir,” I managed to reply.

  “Actually, I am not,” he countered drily. “It causes me to impose upon you most shamefully. I do want you to know that I am aware of what I do.”

  “You needn’t apologize,” I said, feeling color mounting in my face.

  “I am not apologizing,” said Holmes, a bit more briskly. “I am preparing you for yet more work.”

  Relieved, I chuckled, and put the dispatches aside to listen.

  FROM THE PERSONAL JOURNAL OF PHILIP TYERS

  The storm continues unabated. I am sorry for anyone abroad on such an afternoon as this, for it is nearly dark, although it is only four-ten, and the wind is furious. There will be damage from it throughout the City; I would not be shocked to learn that trees are down and windows broken. In half an hour it will be full dark, and the streets will be treacherous for anyone seeking to travel I hope, for G’s sake, that the worst will have passed by the time he leaves for Curzon Street.

  I have provided the Golden Lodge guards with mugs of tea laced with rum, but it is hardly enough to keep out the cold and wet. This is most troubling to me, that they should keep at their posts in such vicious weather. If they are taken ill, I will be inclined to feel partially responsible, although they are acting at the behest of their masters in this duty. I may suggest that they keep watch in carriages rather than on horseback, if for no other reason than that a lone rider in such weather is conspicuous where a closed carriage—a Clarence or a milord—is hardly noticed by anyone ...

  Little as I want to admit it, I am bound to say that the flat seems emptier without Sutton here, rehearsing his parts and working on the clothes he provides for disguises. Even four years ago he seemed an intruder, and now he is all but part of the household. If he is cast as Mosca, he will have the advantage of knowing most of the play already. Still, it will be pleasant to have the entertainment of his rehearsing again. I am heartily tired of MacBeth and would enjoy a comedy ...

  I have a joint of beef to dress for this evening’s supper, and some turnips to butter. That, pea soup, and a wedge of Stilton will be the fore. Tomorrow the butcher will bring the pork and veal for our dinners that I have already ordered. That, and a trip to the baker and the greengrocer should put all to rights until Wednesday. I suppose I must soon put in my order for a Christmas goose ...

  IT WAS after ten when I finally took my leave of Mycroft Holmes and braced myself to go out into the storm. My hope of hailing a cab was not great, and as I looked at the empty, blowing length of Pall Mall, I supposed I had to resign myself to walking, and arriving at Missus Coopersmith’s house soaked to the skin; my shoes were past praying for. I began to trudge toward Saint James Street, feeling my legs grow wet and my trousers sodden as I went. I had almost reached the corner when a very stylish covered sylphide came round the corner from King Street; the horse between the shafts was buckled into one of those patented Albermarle coats, which gave him some protection from the rain. I watched the dashing equipage with more than a trace of envy until it came along beside me, and Miss Gatspy called out, “Guthrie. Get in.”

  I stopped still in surprise, and then I hesi
tated. “What do you want of me?”

  “To take you home.” She gestured impatiently. “Come on. I’m getting wet holding the screen open.” When I did not hasten to join her, she added, “I would have to follow you in any case, so why should you have to suffer unnecessarily.”

  I had no ready answer for this, and the prospect of a dry journey was too much to resist. I set my foot on the step and swung up into the carriage, pulling the screen closed behind me. “Thank you,” I said, aware of the closeness of the interior. “I’m afraid I’ll dampen your clothes.”

  “No doubt of it,” she rejoined almost merrily. “But you would not be any drier in a block or two.” She gave her horse the office and we went off at a jog-trot through the blustery night.

  “I’m sorry to be of trouble,” I said as we moved along.

  “No trouble that I had not planned for,” said Miss Gatspy, taking the turn onto Piccadilly with the ease of long practice.

  “You’re a first rate sawyer,” I remarked, knowing that such a turn in a wind was not easily executed.

  “I’m a crack shot, too,” she said, letting her horse set the pace toward our next turn. “Are you and Mister Holmes making progress?”

  “I should think so,” I said, not wanting to give too much away.

  “If there is anything I, or the Golden Lodge, may contribute to your efforts, you have only to ask.” She was all but invisible in the dark interior of the sylphide, but I was keenly aware of her in spite of that. “I have offered before, I know, but I want you to know that it was not an idle gesture. The Golden Lodge is most concerned about the most recent activities of the Brotherhood.”

  I knew she was attempting to draw me out, and at another time I might have resented it, but after such a long, demanding day of research and speculation, I could not help but ask, “Does the Golden Lodge think it possible that Vickers and Braaten may already be in England?”