“I will,” said Tyers. “And will take the opportunity to bring you brandy. Then we will see about removing your shoe. From the look of it, your ankle is quite swollen.”
Had I not been so concerned for Holmes, this assurance would have filled me with more foreboding than it did. I only nodded and tried as best I could to settle back in the chair. Now that I had the opportunity, I tried to piece together the events of the evening that led to the attack, but try as I might, I could find no commonality to link the Japanese with those who set upon us. But if there was no connection, then what was the reason for the attack, and who had done it? Was the person or persons watching this flat part of the attackers, and if he were, why bother to watch the flat at all, for surely he must know of Sutton’s impersonation, and would have no reason to watch the flat if Holmes was his target. I was caught in a tangle and my mind was not calm enough to enable me to find my way out of this labyrinth of my own creation. Who knows how long I might have wrestled futilely with the question? But Tyers came back with a brandy and a report.
“Mister Holmes has received a scrape to his ribs, sir. It is not a dangerous wound, but it has bled and is in need of attention. Sutton is seeing to it now. He is capable and will do as well as anyone to clean and staunch the wound.” He watched as I took the snifter he offered. “Mister Holmes asked me to look after you, sir, and make certain you are well enough to get yourself home tonight. If you are not, I am bidden to make a bed for you on the parlor sofa.”
“Thank you, Tyers,” I said, tasting the brandy. “Let’s get to this ankle business.” I said this with more certainty than I truly had, for I was well-aware that in removing the shoe, the swelling would be more painful.
“I will get a basin of mustard water, sir, and return.” Tyers excused himself again, and I was once more in the feverish throes of speculation, as useless now as it had been a few minutes before. I had been assuming that the attack had been deliberately aimed at Holmes. But what if I was wrong? What if it had been nothing more than an unlucky circumstance, that any cab passing that wreck at that time might have been set upon by these ruffians? But I doubted that the street gangs were as well organized as these men appeared to be, or so set in their purpose. I had the unhappy notion that it had all been part of the plan—the collision of the van and omnibus—for the purpose of making the attack appear to be accidental. But that would imply that there was money and organization at work to arrange such an opportunity. Which once again returned me to who knew of our negotiations with the Japanese, and who would want to put an end to them? To what ends? And who knew enough to realize that Mycroft Holmes was not, in fact, where he was known to be, but out on the London streets—
“Mister Guthrie,” said Tyers, cutting into my thoughts. He held a basin and a towel as well as a long-bladed knife. “Shall we get to it?”
I made myself nod, and got a good hold on the arms of the chair.
FROM THE PERSONAL JOURNAL OF PHILIP TYERS
G’s ankle was mottled with bruises and much swollen. He soaked it for half an hour in mustard water, and then I bandaged it tightly for him. He is laid down to sleep on the sofa and will return to his rooms in the morning to change and to prepare for the day ahead. I have also applied a medicinal plaster to his hand, though the damage there is less serious.
M H has refused all medication for his scrape but the topical lotion of iodine. Sutton has declared his intention to keep at his side all night in case he should become worse. While I am prepared to fulfill that office, I can see that Sutton is all but distraught, and this will serve to give him the satisfaction of rendering aid, as well as freeing my time in the morning for my regular tasks, which I believe may be crucial. Sutton has some experience in these matters and does not readily panic, for which I am grateful for I do not relish having to calm Sutton as well as nurse M H. But M H has accepted Sutton’s company and assistance willingly and has thanked him for all he has done on M H’s behalf. I can only think that the actor is showing a good deal more backbone than I have credited him with in the past.
After breakfast in the morning, I am to go to M H’s brother with a list of questions that may shed light on the events of this evening. While I do not have the unrelenting faith in the brother, I am aware his activities take him to places and in company that may have useful information to offer to M H in this coil.
BY MORNING I was both better and worse. Though my head ached, and my tongue felt like flannel, my funk of the previous night had passed. I discovered that my right hand was only slightly tender; I thanked God I did not need it to write. My leg was stiff and my ankle throbbed, but not so intensely as when Tyers had wrapped it up the night before, which encouraged me to hope that I would not be as lame as I had feared I would be. However, I had a number of bruises I had ignored before which were now making themselves noticed. When I removed the plaster from my palm, the scrape still looked raw. I sat up on the sofa and waited while the room stopped spinning. I had accepted Tyers’ offer of a composer last night, and this morning paid the price for having a good night’s sleep. At the time it had seemed an excellent notion; now I was not so sure; if it did not go off shortly, I would be concerned. I stared at the window, doing my best to assess the morning.
“I hope I see you well, sir?” said Tyers as he came into the parlor from the sitting room. Sutton’s efforts of the previous day had served to restore the pocket doors between the two chambers to full utility.
“As well as can be expected; I suppose,” I answered glumly as I did my best to marshal my resources for the day ahead. “But it is not the . . .” I lost track of my thought. “What time is it?”
“It lacks ten minutes of seven, sir,” said Tyers. “Mister Holmes woke half an hour ago and is bathing in preparation for having the dressing on his wound changed.” He paused, as if there was something more he wished to say, and then thought better of it. “Would you care to join him at breakfast? In the sitting room? You need not worry about clothes, Mister Guthrie. I am certain there is a dressing gown that will serve your purposes among the things on Sutton’s rack by the pantry.”
I sighed, the need to rise weighing on me. “Since all manner of disguises hang there, no doubt you are correct,” I said, trying to lighten my tone and my manner. I had no reason to be curt with Tyers, who had done so much to help me. “Certainly. Choose something for me that isn’t too outlandish, and inform Mister Holmes I will be entirely at his service in a matter of ten minutes.”
“As you wish,” said Tyers, bowing slightly before leaving me to get myself up.
I hobbled about the room, testing my ankle, and knew it could not be relied upon for much. Little as I liked it, I would have to depend on a cane or a pair of crutches for a day or so until the swelling subsided and my strength returned. Who would have thought so minor a hurt could have such a result? When Tyers brought me a dressing gown of a muted green velvet, I pulled it on and tied its sash, finding it a trifle over-long in the arms, but otherwise unobjectionable. I wondered where Sutton had got it, as I wondered where he had got most of the costumes he supplied to our mutual employer.
“Guthrie,” said Holmes as I presented myself to him a few minutes later, realizing how absurd I must seem, in a velvet dressing gown with a notebook and pencil at the ready. “How are you, dear boy? You look a trifle pulled.”
“I feel pulled,” I allowed. “But if I can procure a cane or crutches, I will do well enough. I am not quite laid up yet.”
“Part of being a sensible man,” said Holmes, who was looking a trifle pulled himself, what with the large, slate-and-purple bruise on the right side of his jaw, and the general pallor of his countenance, “is knowing one’s limitations. Perhaps not so graphically illustrated, but—” He moved stiffly as he sat down, taking care of his left side where the attacker’s steel had scraped him.
“Such as you do. Admit your limitations,” said Sutton from the other side of the room. He looked appallingly fresh and eager; his blue eyes sparked wi
th amusement. “For I will wager the lead in the Scottish Play that you will not send word to the Japanese that press of work will require you to postpone your meeting until tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is the formal reception,” Holmes growled, whether from the circumstances with the Japanese or for being so transparent in his determination to exceed his limitations, I could not guess. “We will have to make an appearance at the Swiss embassy today, if for no other reason to learn how the Japanese want to deal with our procedure for the reception, since, officially, I will not attend. Those who will be there officially will be grand company, indeed.” He indicated my notebook “However, Guthrie, I want you to draft a note to Ambassador Tochigi and tell him that we will be unable to arrive until two in the afternoon. Come up with any explanation that will be acceptable, but not the entire truth, if you please. You might incorporate your injury into what you say, so that there will be no necessity to account for your ankle when we arrive at the Swiss embassy.” He watched me write and added, “Then you must make a proper report about last night to be given to the Admiralty messenger this afternoon.”
“Are you certain you wish to do that?” Sutton asked him before I could.
“Yes. I am required to tell them of any and all attempts on my person. At such a juncture as we have now, this report becomes doubly important, as it may indicate an attempt to sabotage the whole negotiations, or compromise them at the least.” Holmes was looking puzzled. “Why do you question this?”
“Because,” said Sutton in his bantering way, “it strikes me you don’t yet know who was behind it. As long as you do not know, silence may be the wisest course, for you do not know who among the Japanese may have had a role in your misadventure, if any. That is a possibility. There are others, less pleasant to consider: There could be another reason for the attack altogether, from a group whose purpose and identity are as yet secret. There are men who are party to the negotiations whom you admit do not favor any ties to the Orient beyond what you have now. And there are groups sworn to embarrass England at any cost. You have dealt with such groups in the past, haven’t you? And little as you may want to consider it, there could be someone at the Admiralty who is—”
“Good God, man, you sound as if this were a West End melodrama. Are you suggesting there is a conspiracy within the government?” I burst out. “Against the Japanese? Favoring the Germans? The Russians? Or do you imply that there is an attempt to sabotage these negotiations?”
“Nothing so drastic, sir,” said Sutton without a sign of taking umbrage at my accusations. “I am only speculating that just as many of the Japanese are not easy in their minds about England, so there are those in England uneasy about Japan; it may be that they do not all see the advantages of the alliance that you do.” He cocked his head to the side, his attitude inquisitive, a visual echo of Holmes himself. “Well, if you will have me play you, you must expect me to try to learn your habits of thought. Those habits of thought are the heart of all acting.”
Holmes regarded him steadily for the greater part of a minute. Then he sighed and said, “It isn’t pleasant to consider what you say, but I agree it is necessary, given all that has transpired. It may sound theatrical, but it may be that this is an instance where life does imitate art.” He pulled at his lower lip. “All right.” He had made up his mind. “Guthrie, write your report properly, and leave it in my secretary. If there are any questions, say I will want to append my notes to it, and I will do that after the reception, when I have time to assess the situation properly.” He shifted in his chair. “Where’s Tyers?”
“In the kitchen,” said Sutton. “Putting breakfast together.”
“Ah, yes,” Holmes said. “Well, then, we must ready ourselves for what we must do today.” He regarded Sutton a moment. “I will need you to stay on here, for the time I am away from the flat this afternoon.” He hesitated, then went on. “Is there some way you could slip out this morning and observe the street for us? As the attack last night was not successful, if there is any connection to those watching this place, I want to know of it. From what Tyers reported to me this morning about that delivery man, I agree he was sent to watch this place, and me. But why? As you reminded me, Edmund, we are still in the dark about motives and identities.” The look of stark intensity in his eyes was unnerving. “Who did it? Why?” he repeated.
I had nothing to offer by way of an answer. Instead, I asked, “Would you like me to invent a plausible explanation for our conditions? Something in the order of a mishap, minor enough to be inconsequential, but sufficient to account for our various hurts? What if I should claim that I was hurt when the jarvey’s horse bolted last night? And that you ordered me to consult a physician to be certain no bones were broken?”
Holmes shrugged. “As you say, plausible enough. Such things do happen. It would not seem wrong to Ambassador Tochigi that I would give an order of that nature. He expects a man in my position to act responsibly toward my subordinates.” He must have read something in my face, for he went on soothingly, “Oh, don’t take offense at the word, Guthrie. I do not regard you in the same light as he regards Minato and Banadaichi. I use the term for convenience, not for accuracy.” He smiled at Tyers as he brought in the breakfast tray. Holmes’ customary sirloin of beef with baked eggs was center on the tray, along with a plate of grilled tomatoes, and a basket of muffins, as was a large pot of tea and a smaller one of coffee, and a jug of hot milk. There were three dishes and three cups-and-saucers for our use.
Ordinarily the sight of such welcome fare would have fired my hunger, but this morning, it had little appeal to me. I looked at the grilled tomatoes and decided I could manage one or two of them, and a plain muffin. I drew up a chair, handling it clumsily. “I will have coffee, Tyers,” I said.
“Yes,” Tyers said as he went about laying out breakfast.
Sutton pulled up a chair, straddled it and helped himself to the tea. He added sugar and milk, stirring thoughtfully. I watched him, trying to decide what bothered me the most—that he should be so energetically optimistic or that I should be so down-cast. He selected a muffin and broke it in half. “Holmes, if it is all the same to you,” he said, so casually that both Holmes and I gave him our full attention, “I think it would be wisest if we send word to Sid Hastings to meet you one or two streets away, say in Jermyn Street or Regent Street. It may be that those watching know his cab on sight.”
“It is like most cabs, and there is nothing remarkable about Jenny. The city is full of bay mares. Most people do not know one from another.” I knew I sounded too sharp, so I added, “Remember, Holmes cannot move as easily as usual, and I am all but useless. We would make ourselves obvious on the street.”
“Precisely,” said Sutton.
I stared at him. “You have said you are in agreement that this flat is being watched. What, then, can be the purpose of making ourselves—”
“Let him go on,” said Holmes quietly.
“It occurred to me,” said Sutton, glancing at me once, “that if you could contrive a suitable disguise to get away from Pall Mall, you could then meet Hastings at Guthrie’s rooms. There is less of a chance you would be recognized. It is probably known by the watchers that you have been hurt. Therefore it will be expected that you would make an effort to show extra care. They will expect you to be taken up at the door, not a short way along the street. It could make it possible for you to—get away from here without being noticed at all.” He gestured toward the window. “If you are certain the watchers are gone, then such precautions aren’t necessary, but—” He shrugged eloquently.
“They may not be, but let us observe them in any case.” Holmes spoke with more of his usual energy than he had displayed yet this morning. He began to cut himself a slice of the beef, winced once, and found a more comfortable posture to continue his meal. “Tyers, when you go to Baker Street, tell Sid Hastings to meet Guthrie and me at Guthrie’s rooms in Curzon Street, at half one. Tell him to come from South Audley Street. E
ven if Hastings is being followed, he will be coming from the wrong quarter of town to be working at my request.” He pressed the meat on his fork into the egg yolk. “We will arrange to have one of the delivery vans take us from here to Curzon Street.”
“Providing the watchers do not know where Guthrie’s rooms are, sir,” said Sutton, finishing his morning repast and setting his serviette beside his plate.
“We will chance it for now,” Holmes decided aloud. “You know what to do, Tyers.”
“As you wish,” said Tyers at his most neutral.
“It is prudent, Tyers,” said Sutton quietly. “If I had said nothing, you would have.”
At this, Tyers relented. “So I would have,” he agreed.
By the time we had finished breakfast, our plans for the morning were complete. Tyers went on his way to execute his errands as Holmes had asked.
“Guthrie, what did you observe last night as we came along Brompton Road, just before the attack took place?” Holmes asked me somewhat later. He had dressed in his diplomatic rig again, his coat another swallow-tail of near-black super-fine. The somber color of his clothing made his bruise appear darker than it was, and Holmes, by contrast, paler. “I have only two more of these. Nothing had better happen tonight.”
“I should say not,” I answered, and then said, “As we came along Brompton Road, I was thinking that we should have a quick ride down Piccadilly, what with it being so late and the traffic light. To tell you truly, sir, I paid little attention to the road. I was more intent on reviewing the events of your discussion with the Japanese than anything but the speed of the journey.”
“Did you not think it suspicious that a house remover should be in that neighborhood at that time of night? Most house removes are done during the day,” Holmes inquired. “I have been struck by that oddity, upon reflection.”
Embassy Row Page 8
