Against the Brotherhood Read online

  “You mean it would be possible for the Brotherhood to obtain it?” I asked, much shocked.

  Holmes waved his hand, and the cigar left traces of it in the air. “Diplomacy often goes down some very strange roads, Guthrie. In this case, the messenger was agreeable to both sides, peculiarities and all.”

  “But if the Brotherhood steals the treaty—” I exclaimed.

  “Exactly. Such a disaster is what the Brotherhood desires most, and what we, Guthrie, you and I, must prevent at all costs.” He repeated the last grimly. “All costs.”

  I had not reckoned on such high stakes in this venture, and was attempting to find a way to express my misgivings when it struck me that much of this conflict that so troubled Holmes must be ongoing. “When did all this begin?” I asked him, hoping to learn the source of the trouble.

  “It started long ago,” said Mycroft Holmes, “in Europe with a group of renegade Masons and a lodge of occultists, who decided they would have to band together if they were ever to achieve the downfall of the great houses of Europe. They combined the most radical of Masonic notions with the manipulative strength of the occultists into one, hidden, subversive movement that had support from many ambitious nobles, those who had sought advancement and had not achieved it. The alliance has continued to this day. It is often at the very heart of the most nefarious plots that strike at the seat of power. I am personally aware of six lodges of this Brotherhood currently active in England and Europe. And I know that Vickers is the leader of the lodge active in London.” He lowered his voice. “In addition, I am aware of more than a dozen murders committed by this one lodge in the last five years alone.”

  “Henry Gordon-Hughes,” I said.

  Mycroft Holmes regarded me steadily, saying in a low voice, “Why, yes, he was one. There have been others, I am saddened to tell you.” His frown deepened as he stubbed out the end of his cigar. “I am loath to send you on this mission, but there is no one else whom Vickers will accept at this point, and so, with notice much shorter than I anticipated a week ago, I am afraid it will have to be you, or we must face the possibility of failure with the treaty. Which I dare not contemplate.” He rocked back on his heels, which I had learned meant that he found the matter under discussion unacceptable.

  “I will go, of course,” I said, hoping I did not sound as frightened as I was. What had my employer put me into? “But I am a secretary, not a man of action, and I may not be able to—”

  “My dear Guthrie, you are young, you are intelligent, and you are resourceful. I have great confidence in your abilities.” Mycroft Holmes put his hand on my shoulder. “I can think of no one else in whom I could repose the confidence I have in you.”

  This encomium was much more than any I had expected. And if his motives for giving it were less than pristine, I could not make myself question them. Though were the mission not for the protection of my country, I might have felt I had been taken advantage of by both Vickers and Mycroft Holmes. The importance of the task overshadowed all other considerations. “I will do my utmost to discharge my duty to your satisfaction.”

  “Excellent. I was convinced I could not be mistaken in you.” He went to the desk and sat down, pulling a map from one of the pigeonholes and spreading it out. “As you see, your destination is very near Munich, in what was once the Bishopric of Freising in the Electorate of Bavaria, according to the terms of the Peace of Westphalia—”

  “That was 1648, as I recall,” I interjected, to show I was not wholly ignorant of the history of the region.

  Mycroft Holmes nodded once, his manner decisive. “You are correct. Being near Munich and controlled by the Church made this odd little sliver of land much more important than its acreage might appear to suggest. Even today there are crucial alliances in that region which are vital to English interests in Europe, as you have gathered from what I’ve told you.”

  I listened in growing apprehension, for it seemed to me that as determined as I was to succeed at my task, there were those opponents who were as determined as I to see it fail.

  “If you are not feeling the ill effects of that horrible inn, I hope you will permit me to provide you with a light meal before you leave.” He smiled at me pleasantly, and went on in response to my look of surprise. “Well, you are heavy-eyed, and your stomach has growled twice since you arrived.”

  “I hoped you had not noticed,” I said, feeling embarrassed.

  “With what you must have had for fare, I am astonished you are not quite green about the gills,” said my employer. “A mutton pie and some cheese will put you to rights again.”

  “Thank you, sir. It would be very welcome.” My mouth was watering.

  “There are just a few more matters to tend to, and then you may have your pie. Tell me, Guthrie, what do you think is the most important thing you can do at this time?” Mycroft Holmes regarded me with expectant cordiality, as if he were confident of my answer before I had even decided what it was.

  “Follow the instructions Vickers gives me?” I suggested.

  “I knew I was correct to employ you,” he approved. “Yes. Do nothing to alert him to your real purpose. Let him think he has suborned you—meaning August Jeffries—with the promise of money and an end to the restrictions of your father’s will. Make him think you are venal and greedy, so that he will not be inclined to know more of you. If he is persuaded you are his tool, you will be able to penetrate the maze of his lodge, and, perhaps, the Brotherhood as well. Which service would be of greatest importance to England and the Crown.”

  It was, I admit, thrilling to think my activities could have such overwhelming importance, and I was not immune to pride as I listened. I was also keenly aware that I could not accomplish this assignment without help, and I summoned my courage to say so. “I will need a way to contact you, for I will have to relay information and receive your instructions as I travel.”

  “You most certainly will,” said Mycroft Holmes, his manner at once approving and measuring. “To begin with, you will send a telegram to these chambers, to your solicitor, asking if he has had time to review the will yet. That will inform me that you have arrived in Europe. If your port of entry has been changed—and it would be like Vickers to do such a thing—add that you expect James to contact your stepbrother as soon as possible. You will telegraph your solicitor daily, asking for reports on his progress. If you have significant information to pass on to us, add your concern that the matter ought to be settled before the end of the year. If you perceive a greater risk than we have discussed, inform James that you are not satisfied with his efforts. If you are convinced you are in danger of being discovered, appeal to James on behalf of your wife and children. There will be telegrams sent to you as well, from James. If he says that press of work delays him, it will mean that we have more information for you. If he tells you that he is not pleased with the terms of the trust, you will have a packet waiting at the next stop along whatever line you travel. If he apologizes for failing to have your brief prepared, it will be a signal that you are in danger of exposure.” He studied the map. “As soon as you make contact with the Scotsman, send a telegram assuring James of payment.”

  “I hope I will be able to remember all of this,” I said.

  “You will be astonished the number of things you can remember during missions of this sort.” He took out his watch and studied it. “You will have to be away shortly. James will provide you with the key for the code we will use. It is a fairly simple one, but that can’t be helped with so little time.” He held out his hand. “Vickers is not the only one who has helpers in Europe. I will do what I can to provide you with trustworthy assistants. The recognition signal will be my brother’s address, but C instead of B. The countersign will be the Cap and Balls. Anyone offering you that address is someone you may rely upon, no matter how unlikely a person it may be.”

  “All right,” I said,
starting to feel a trifle giddy at the prospect of the undertaking before me.

  “You will find the Scotsman a challenge to your ingenuity, I think,” added Mycroft Holmes with a wry smile.

  “Why? Is he an ogre? Or is he part of the Brotherhood?” This last gave me a pang of anxiety.

  Mycroft Holmes was quick to banish my apprehensions on that head. “Nothing like that, no. But he is a good friend to those in high office; he is important in his own right. Cameron McMillian, while not The McMillian, is a most influential man. His position in his clan is unassailable and his wealth is immense. His father, who is still alive, controls most of the manufacture of engines for our country’s warships. He is the pride of the Scottish engineers, and his influence extends beyond the Admiralty to Number Ten.”

  I sighed once, thinking how position and worth did not often walk hand in hand.

  “As your expression reveals,” said Mycroft Holmes drily, “you understand how it comes about that this man was chosen as the messenger for the treaty. But you do not know what a reckless decision it was.”

  “Surely such a man is loyal beyond question,” I blurted out. There was a slight line between Holmes’ strong brows; it deepened to a furrow as he continued. “He is certainly loyal to his clan and King. His record as a Hussar officer is beyond question. It is not his loyalty but his judgment that concerns me.”

  “His judgment?” I echoed.

  “Yes. Some years ago Cameron McMillian married a lovely young woman—an American, as I recall—who died tragically while pregnant with their first child. McMillian did not behave well. He began to assuage his grief, which, in fairness, I know to have been considerable, with strong drink and the company of women of a certain station. He was careful at first, but grew careless with time, sometimes arriving in the company of obvious ladybirds and not in full control of his faculties. None of this embarrassed him in the slightest, for he was protected by his family name and his tremendous wealth. When intoxicated, he is not above baiting those he is certain will not strike back at a man of his position. Of course, in time he became unwelcome in polite society. He was not invited to court after one truly appalling breach of conduct. Bereft of the company of those of his own station, he plunged into debauch. Finally, when his father would permit no more, he was dispatched to the Continent to... em... manage certain family holdings there. It was hoped he might marry again for the family. That was three years ago. I gather there was some bitterness upon his departure, and he has, by all accounts, neither reformed nor voiced a desire to return.”

  I was more at sea than before. “If that is so, why should he be the one chosen for so delicate a task?”

  Holmes held up one long finger signaling me to hold my question. “The gentleman who headed the team that negotiated the Treaty of Reassurance was Sir John Drummond. You may recall the name?”

  “Yes,” I said, having seen it on a number of courier packets and telegrams.

  “Those communications came, as you may be aware, from St. Petersburg,” said Mycroft Holmes. “Fellow Scots Drummond and McMillian were at Balliol together, and you know what the Oxonian ties are. I was unable to dissuade Sir John of the lack of wisdom McMillian represented. Perhaps he thought he was doing McMillian a favor, providing him with a way to redeem himself. Sir John himself is still in the East, continuing his mission.”

  “Sir John chose McMillian as his personal messenger.” I said it as if hearing it aloud I might convince myself of it.

  “Yes. And though it may be that Cameron McMillian’s motives are of the highest order, it is difficult to conceive of a less appropriate courier for secret and sensitive papers.” He made a gesture to show the matter was beyond him.

  “I see what you mean; very high in the instep, and without cause,” I told him, and decided that I would need to keep a very civil tongue in my head if I were to be admitted to his staff.

  “At the least,” agreed Mycroft Holmes. “Now, I must be about my own arrangements.” He moved briskly, with more energy than one would suppose he possessed from his air of general, scholarly indolence.

  “What are your plans, sir? May I know if they impinge on mine?” I did not like the notion of not knowing where my employer was now that I was being sent on such duty at his behest.

  “I must spend a short while with Edmund Sutton this morning; I trust I shall find him awake, though the hour is early for him.” He snapped his fingers restlessly. “He will have to prepare for his standard assignment.” By which he meant the actor would impersonate him, keeping to Mycroft Holmes’ strict schedule and providing the illusion that Holmes was, in fact, in London. It was a device that had served him well in the past, and doubtless would serve him in the future. “I am also expecting word from my brother in regard to that fellow with the Devonshire accent. He knows such a catalogue of rogues, criminals, and ruffians that I do not doubt he will assist in identifying this individual.”

  “How will you get word of it to me, if I am expected to depart so soon?” I did not relish going into the hands of these men without knowing as much as possible about them, for though I realized they were indeed desperate, I was also aware that my only hope against them was information.

  “You will be delivered two new shirts at the Cap and Balls. They will come from a shop two blocks from here. Folded in the sleeves will be a report, as well as any necessary changes in our system of codes.” He indicated the door. “You must be off. For if you linger, the man assigned to watch you may become suspicious. James will tell you where to find the haberdashery I mentioned. You should stop in there on your return to the inn so that it will be understood that you have reason to accept the shirts.”

  “Of course,” I agreed, impressed at the quickness of Mycroft Holmes’ mind.

  “I will also alert you to any changes in our arrangements with the Scotsman, so that you will be prepared to deal with him when you meet him.” He looked at his watch again. “Well, off you go, Guthrie. Godspeed.” He made a gesture to dismiss me and then stopped as one more thought occurred to him. “Take no gift from Vickers or any of his men. They will probably offer you some minor token. Find a good excuse to refuse it. And avoid a high-born churl called von Metz.”

  “All right,” I said, curious as to why, and who was von Metz.

  Mycroft Holmes sensed my unspoken question. “You have read of some of the rituals of this Brotherhood. They will seek many ways to control you.”

  “And superstitious fools let themselves be persuaded by chicken-claws and rattles. You will find I have a sterner mind than that, sir,” I assured him. “I am a rational man, educated and well informed. Those—”

  “It is not only ignorant savages in Africa and India who resort to such devices. Vickers and his cohorts have skills enough to use these techniques with deadly purpose. Your doubts will not help you if they decide to turn their efforts against you.” Again he motioned me to the door. “Keep your wits about you, Guthrie, and do not relax your guard, for that way lays worse things than death.”

  My time in Mycroft Holmes’ employ had taught me that he was not one to engage in rodomontade, or similar hyperbole, and for that reason alone, his warning struck me to the heart. I bowed slightly and left him.

  FROM THE PERSONAL JOURNAL OF PHILIP TYERS:

  I have at last completed the restoration of M.H.’s flat. Whoever undertook to search the place must have done it with speed his most important concern, for everything he touched was in disarray. Papers and books flung everywhere, cushions pulled out and ripped open, drawers overturned and their contents strewn about. At M.H.’s instruction, I have completed a thorough search of all the rooms that were disturbed—though the kitchen and the pantry were left without any disruption, and the sitting room was only half searched. It is my belief that the miscreant was interrupted by my return, and was forced to flee with his purpose unfulfilled, as we can determine that
nothing is missing. Were it not for the reason for my absence, I would chastise myself for failing in my duty to M.H.

  Mother continues to fade. I have asked that the minister give her what comforts he can, as it is not likely that she will be truly conscious again before the end. M.H. was kind enough to permit me to visit her again this evening, for he became aware of my lack of concentration on my work here. I cannot express the depth of gratitude I feel toward him for his kindness in these dark hours.

  “SO YOU PURCHASED new shirts,” approved the other man sharing my compartment on the train for Dover. He was thin and professorial, about forty, a gray-faced academic sort in old tweeds, with a short beard and spectacles clipped to the bridge of his nose.

  “Two,” I said, glaring at him with a suspicion that was only partly feigned.

  “Good. If your collars and cuffs are freshly laundered and starched, it should be satisfactory. You will present a less unfortunate appearance.” He settled back against the squabs and regarded me speculatively. “Not that you are very prepossessing, as it is.”

  I was pleased I had not taken the two small notes I had found concealed in the sleeves of the second shirt out to read in this train compartment, for surely that would have caused suspicions in the mind of this fellow, suspicions I could not afford. “I do the best I can; and I will thank you not to question me too closely. I have said I will undertake this work, and you may be sure I will.” My umbrage was more genuine than I liked to admit.

  “What pride and delusion,” said the man, as if remarking on the clouds overhead. “You will have to curb those impulses when you reach Germany or there will be hell to pay.” He chuckled, his face as unchanged in expression as if it had been carved in stone.

  “I’ll thank you to keep your thoughts to yourself, sir,” I grumbled, and hitched my shoulders higher to do what I could to cut myself off from him. I moved my aged carpetbag—another of the inestimable Edmund Sutton’s contributions—nearer to me on the seat, as if I feared my traveling companion might attempt to snatch it or rifle its contents.