Mycroft Holmes and the Edinburgh Affair

by Janina Woods

  There was a knock on the door then. Hawkins opened it before I could turn. He ordered some light breakfast and tea for both of us and the maid disappeared with a murmured confirmation. The rule of silence, which was established in the club rooms on the ground floor didn’t extend to the corridors of the agency above, but the servants kept it quiet regardless. I very much appreciated the calm atmosphere of the whole building.

  “So what was the point?”

  Hawkins had taken his place in the armchair, whereas I opted for the divan this time. The urge to smoke was rising again, but I refrained. One was enough for today - it wouldn’t do for me to get addicted. The problem ran in the family.

  Interestingly I didn’t feel uneasy or threatened, despite the bloody note. I was simply buzzing with energy... that wonderful feeling that spread through my body when there was a challenge before me. I supposed that also ran in the family.

  “I believe that the point was to make me aware of the threat. I am now aware.”

  Hawkins hummed and crossed his legs.

  “I don’t think you’re taking the whole thing seriously enough. You should lay low where no one can get to you and let the other agents handle the situation.”

  “You sound like Challenger.”

  “Alright. Let’s just assume you’re not in danger right now, which, for the record, I don’t believe for a second. What’s our next step?”

  “Breakfast.”

  “You’re a bloody buffoon, Mycroft Holmes.”

  Despite my chuckle and Hawkins’ exasperated sigh, the atmosphere didn’t turn any lighter. I resigned myself and sunk back into the divan, arms spread on both sides over the backrest.

  “There was a flower. A white anemone. In the language of flowers, it symbolises a broken bond, a forsaken love. While I can’t think of any person, who’d associate me with such feelings, it’s entirely possible that I’ve been responsible for breaking such a bond, and that one of the broken people is now out for... something. Revenge, maybe. Who can tell?”

  “That’s a lot more than we knew yesterday.”

  “Yes. That’s why I said the whole thing is something for me personally to decode. I have a hunch, and to investigate it, I need to have a look into some old reports.”

  “You think Challenger will let you?”

  “He told me to wrap this up. I see no reason why he shouldn’t let me use all the resources at my disposal.”

  Hawkins shook his head. “You know that’s not the issue here.”

  “You don’t have to accompany me, you know. There’s no need to extend Challenger’s wrath to you too. I don’t think he’ll be very happy to see me after today’s headlines.”

  “I’m here to assist you,” Hawkins stated, his disappointment over not having been called to accompany me to the murder investigation still more than visible on his face. “And assist I shall.”

  We ate our breakfast in peace, talking about what had happened in Dover while I was away. Hawkins had a talent for storytelling, and could easily amuse. Yes, he was still obnoxious and loud, had planted himself squarely in my office without invitation, and had the annoying habit of touching my arm in a familiar gesture while he was talking, but somehow I was glad for his company. Without him, I would’ve gone straight to Challenger, without considering even of a cup of tea. He was a distraction, yes, but a welcome one.

  Challenger greeted us disgruntled, showing obvious signs of sleep deprivation. There were copies of various London newspapers, which had reported about the ‘Mycroft Incident’ on his desk, and he didn’t even have to mention them. Still, he greeted Hawkins warmly and gave us permission to use his study desk in a corner of the office to peruse the old reports.

  The emotions behind the foul deeds felt raw and urgent, like a recent event, but I made sure to go through all my personal records. Even if I were quite sure that whatever I had done, must’ve happened shortly before my journey to Egypt, I had to take all possibilities into account... and I had to look into my Songbird too. Part of me sincerely hoped I wouldn’t find any mention of his name here, but on the other hand I longed to know, even though I had promised the opposite.

  “And that’s why I think I’ve come into contact with the culprit through work,” I concluded my explanation to Hawkins, when we had settled in.

  “That’s a sound assumption, Mycroft. Still, I thought you could remember the details of your missions much better than any report can?”

  I wanted to feel flattered, but is it flattering if one states the truth? “While that’s true, I can’t recall any situation that would lend itself to the theme of forsaken love. There’s much more in these reports than just my statements, and I hope the additional detail will help me draw the right connections.”

  “Well, then give me some of those.”

  I handed Hawkins several paper folders and got to work.

  “Remember this one?” Hawkins laughed in his peculiar way and turned a piece of paper, so I could see the title. “By Jove, that’s hilarious. I’ve heard about it, but it’s the first time I’m reading the actual report!”

  Yes, I did remember it. Very well.

  “Don’t tell Ignatius that his deeds on Christmas, 1893, are actually recorded. He’ll haunt me.”

  “You’re telling me he doesn’t know?”

  I shook my head.

  “And I’d like to keep it this way to have one more bargaining chip. I could use it against that man.”

  Hawkins nodded his agreement and turned his attention back to the paper, but not before yet another chuckle escaped him.

  “Really Ignatius? A bear?”

  “Three bears, actually,” I added. “I didn’t want to let him look too bad in the report.”

  “That aside, Mycroft. I’m all but done with this part. I made a note of everything that could’ve potentially set someone on a path of revenge, but...”

  “...the list is too long?”

  “Extraordinarily so.”

  I browsed it quickly. At least Songbird‘s name wasn‘t on it. And not yet on mine, either.

  “That’s why I have my brother.”

  Hawkins frowned.

  “You aren’t engaging any agents in the effort? We have skilled people too, you know.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just... it feels so personal. It would be wrong to trouble anyone else with this.”

  “You can shove your false modesty up your stuck-up arse, Holmes! Give me that list.”

  We turned to find Challenger slowly picking his way through the labyrinth of paper to join us at the study desk. Instinctively, I grabbed the paper from Hawkins’ hands and together with my own notes, hid them under a folder.

  “What are you playing at? You’re not keeping any information from your superior! If your real identity is revealed publicly, the whole Service will be in a world of trouble, so I will have my agents on this, whether you agree or not. And believe me, it’s only a matter of time before something goes wrong. Your precious brother’s fame will be your downfall.”

  I narrowed my eyes and rose to my feet as Challenger had reached my position. I stared him down from above, but if my glare impressed him, I never saw any indication.

  “You will hand over the notes.”

  Still I hesitated. But why? It was pointless to deny him, when the agency could help me so much in the pursuit of the truth. Yes, there was still the matter of the timing of the first incident. The fact that the information about my return had had to come from within the Secret Service. I would’ve never accused Challenger out loud, but...

  “I will need to make a copy first. I need some notes of my own...”

  “Fine. But make it quick. I have to attend a function in an hour.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied through my teeth. Challenger glared a
t me for good measure, then retreated to his desk. Hawkins simply shook his head.

  “Not everyone holds me in such high regard as you, Leonard.”

  “He’s never been out in the field with you,” Hawkins rebutted. “He wasn’t even head of the Service when we were in Edinburgh together. If he could see you work in your element, he’d think differently.”

  “His mind has been shaped by the people that have been in the field with me. I don’t know why you can’t see it.”

  “See what?” Hawkins’ eyes narrowed curiously.

  “Forget it.” I turned my attention back to the page.

  I would not go out of my way to talk badly about my own decisions, when deep down I knew my approach to be the right one. The efficient one. The one that had saved Leonard’s life and finished the mission. The one that would get me out of this mess, whatever it was.

  It took me only a short while to copy the list, and we approached Challenger again to hand it to him. I hesitated for just a fraction as the paper was about to leave my hand, and of course he noticed my moment of doubt.

  “Whatever you’re thinking: You’re in so much trouble already, you might as well tell me,” my superior said as he snatched the information from me.

  “I’m sorry, Leonard,” I said before turning back to Challenger. “You know about the murder south of London Bridge?”

  “I have been made aware of the fact, but I don’t know the details yet.”

  “They will be in the papers before long, but I’ve already been there, so I can tell you. A woman was murdered, beaten to death with a wooden baton, which was found next to her, throat cut to make sure she would never rise again. There was also a note with my name.” The other two looked at me as if I had planted the paper myself.

  “The evidence is with the Yard now. So is the murder weapon.”

  “Surely you know more than that, Mycroft,” Challenger added.

  “I know that the weapon is one of ours. I inspected it myself,” I admitted quietly.

  “How can you be sure?” Challenger asked.

  “For one, I know the make, because I carried one myself for a few years, though that was a while ago. And then there are the initials carved into the bottom: LH. I know for a fact that Leonard compulsively marks all his belongings like this.”

  “That can’t be. I haven’t carried a baton like this since... since Edinburgh. After that incident, I had them transfer me to the post in Dover, and since then I only carry a single gun.”

  I remembered the day Hawkins had begged to be removed from field work. Of course I did. It was after he had woken up, battered and bruised, his left arm in shambles. He had been exceptional at his work. It had taken just one misstep and... the fact that I had almost found him too late. Challenger had joined us long after that day, but of course he knew about it.

  “Yes. That makes it even more curious. I couldn’t commandeer the weapon earlier... it would’ve been too suspicious around the Yarders to mention your connection. My brother recognised it, but didn’t draw any undue attention to it either. I suggest obtaining it through our usual channels, so we can see where it came from.”

  “I must once again protest your continued involvement,” Challenger said, a steely gaze directed at me. “If only so I can say I’ve warned you. You’re jeopardising the agency, the life of innocents and most of all your own. This is too close to you and those around you.”

  “You gave me a deadline.”

  “I’m a man of my word, Holmes. You shall have your time, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make my displeasure known. Thank you for the list and the additional information. The weapon will be retrieved. Hawkins, I will call upon you as soon as that happens. I know I can count on you not to run, but don’t stray too far, either. You’re officially relieved from your duties in Dover until this is over.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Hawkins did look very uneasy. I couldn’t blame him. We left Challenger’s office in silence, and even on the way back to my office, my fellow agent didn’t utter a word. Deep in thought, he excused himself quickly to look into some things himself. Something in me twisted itself as I tried to push the doubt about Hawkins’ involvement out of my head.

  It was his back, as he left in quiet, anxious contemplation that made me feel more afraid than anything else that had happened during the last days.

  It had turned afternoon and the sky was already darkening. As I observed the scenery I could see the snow falling still. If the weather of recent days were any indication, we would be treated to another layer of ice overnight. Oh, how I longed for those warm and sweet days in Milan right now - in more ways than one.

  Locked away in my office, I turned on only a single gas lamp on my desk and perused the list we had uncovered once more. The list of suspects was long, because we hadn’t discriminated against any doubting factor. Even remote possibilities were included. They would be easy to discard after a proper examination, but I wasn’t so careless to dismiss any of the people outright. If my own actions had led to the current situation, the solution had to be on the list. After all, how else would they have crossed my path in a way that led them to... this?

  I had absolutely no social life outside the club, because I lead no regular life at all and had no friends that didn’t belong to the Service. Frankly, there was only one person I’d call a true friend, and she knocked at the door in that very moment.

  “You wanted to see me?” she asked.

  “I didn’t know that you’d still be in, but I’m glad you are.”

  Lou closed the door behind her. “What do you need?”

  I shrugged. “Can’t I simply call upon a friend?”

  “Of course. You should try that sometimes.”

  “Touché.”

  Lou dragged a chair closer to my desk and took a seat, then crossed both her arms and legs.

  “I take it you’ve gathered some more intelligence.”

  “There was another note for me, left on the body of a murdered woman, written in blood.”

  “You’re popular.”

  I released a sound both affirmative and dismissive. “There was also a hint: a white anemone.”

  “A jilted lover, then?”

  “Dr. Watson could learn a thing or two from you. Yes, it would seem that way. Only I don’t have anyone like that. A jilted almost lover in Italy, perhaps, but she can be safely excluded.”

  “Oh?”

  How Lou managed to imbue a single sound with so much meaning was astounding.

  “A story for another time.”

  I didn’t know why I had even mentioned Victoria then. Maybe to distract my own thoughts from Songbird. After spending a few longs weeks with her in spring, it was hard to push her out of my thoughts entirely. The current threat made it easy to keep my mind occupied, but her appearance had made a bigger impression on me than I expected. Apparently I was more sentimental than I gave myself credit for.

  Lou raised an eyebrow.

  “Another time,” I repeated.

  “Fine, fine,” she answered and shook her head.

  “The messages are clearly addressed,” I brought the conversation back on track. “We can assume the perpetrator holds a grudge because of something I’ve done for the agency. The incidents feel raw. They’re very emotional, so I’m thinking that whatever happened can’t be very old. In fact the retribution could’ve happened earlier, but I was out of the country for a year, so they had to wait for the proper impact.”

  “That does make sense. So what now? Are you actually in danger?”

  “I don’t think so. At least not for now,” I answered, more to assure myself than her. “Hawkins helped me to compile a list of people I encountered during the last years, that could seek revenge over any kind of broken bond.”

  I pushed
the piece of paper across the desk.

  “Challenger has the names too. He’ll probably investigate on his own, but that doesn’t mean I can’t apply myself as well.”

  “You’ve asked him to help?”

  “I couldn’t very well keep important information from my superior,” I huffed, even though that wasn’t exactly the way it had happened.

  “Oh, Mycroft. If it helps you achieve your goal, you’d keep your own mother in the dark.” Lou shook her head.

  “Then it’s a good thing she isn’t around anymore, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t play offended. You and your brother are very much alike in that regard. As long as you can execute a plan on your own, you don’t tell anyone what’s actually happening. One could almost think you like to show off your skills more than achieving a positive result.”

  I crossed my arms.

  “There’s usually no one to show off to, when I do my work. Also my skills assure results. Your point is moot.”

  “Ah, but you do get to report a successful mission to headquarters in the end, so there’s that.”

  I reached for the carafe on my desk and let the water spill into my glass more forcefully than I intended. Lou could barely fight a smile and finally reached for the paper.

  “That’s... a long list.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Some would call it busy, others would call it reckless.”

  “Please, just have a look at the names. I’m not in the mood for this,” I said wearily.

  Lou nodded and reached for her pocket. Immediately I pushed the ashtray to her side of the desk. While she was absentmindedly smoking her cigarette, engrossed in the names, I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes so I could concentrate. I was prone to wallow in self-pity and that wasn’t at all conducive to a proper investigation.

  “I assume the circled names are prime targets?”

  I opened my eyes to see that Lou had leaned on my desk with one elbow and was playing with her hair, like she always did when she was thinking. The remnants of the cigarette lay crushed amidst the ashes, but the smoke hadn’t dissipated yet, which made me crave some poison of my own.