THE NEXT MORNING, true to my assignment, I left the Cap and Balls with my head ringing from gin and lack of sleep. I could feel welts on my body where it had been nibbled by the permanent denizens of the inn; I contrived to keep the itching from annoying me by recalling all the details I had offered to the three associates of Mister Vickers. They had been very interested in my supposed wife and children, as well as the nature of my fictitious father’s death. As I made my way toward the law courts, I realized a puny man with a beak of a nose was keeping pace with me, roughly twenty feet back. So Mister Holmes had been right in warning me against being followed. I did my best to ignore that unwelcome companion and to keep on my way.
As I neared the law courts, I made a point of stopping men in legal robes, making it appear I was searching for a man to take my case. I was not given a very encouraging reception by those I accosted, which was my intention; I continued my efforts in as surly a manner as I could summon up. Finally I saw Pierson James, Mister Holmes’ current personal courier, coming toward me, clutching a large leather portfolio, his solicitor’s robe so frayed and threadbare at the collar that I could not help but wonder if he had got the garment from Edmund Sutton. He very nearly stumbled against me, and began to apologize.
“I never intended... your pardon, sir.” He held me by the arm to get my attention. Though not much older than I, James had the air of a man in his middle years, and he carried himself with a formality that went well with his lawyer’s garb. Spectacles dangled from a dark ribbon around his neck.
I recognized the sharpness of his eyes in no need of lenses. “It is no matter,” I said, and launched into a request for representation, for I could see that the beak-nosed man had edged nearer.
“A will is in question, then?” said Pierson James eagerly. “Why, yes, I might be able to advise you. If you will do yourself the trouble to come with me.”
“Certainly,” I said, making a show of cordiality that rang false to me, and I trusted appeared the same to the man with the beaky nose. “I am grateful to you, sir, for being willing to consider my case.”
“A man in your position must find it hard to come by representation,” said James as he led the way down a narrow street toward a number of buildings housing chambers. “I will hear you out, without charge to you, and then decide if your case merits my attention.” He turned into one of these and led the way to the end of a dark, narrow hall. “I suspect that whoever is watching you will now find a place to observe the front of this place,” James remarked to me over his shoulder as he opened the door to reveal a fine suite of rooms; in the second of these Mycroft Holmes was sitting, appearing to take his ease in a high-backed, overstuffed leather chair.
“How do you do, Guthrie,” said my employer, regarding me carefully. “What luck have you had thus far?”
“I think I may have been more fortunate than we anticipated.”
I looked toward Pierson James. “Is it all right—?”
Mycroft Holmes motioned his courier away, calling after him, “Do not leave the building. I will need you to escort Guthrie back to the street when we have done here.”
“As you wish, sir,” said James, and left us alone.
“Now then, tell me of what you suspect may be good fortune?” He leaned forward and braced his elbow on the arm of the chair. “Someone approached you at the Cap and Balls?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, and quickly summarized my meeting with Mister Vickers, and described his three lieutenants, in particular the older man with the Devonshire accent, who I was certain could be identified. I finished with my impression of Vickers himself. “He has awakened the gravest misgivings in me. I cannot tell you precisely why, but I suspect he has within him the capacity for great evil.”
“There you have the right of it, for I have known Vickers of old, and have every reason to suppose he has not redeemed his character.” Holmes stared up at the ceiling. “If Vickers has been bold enough to approach you now, it must be because he is seeking some dupe, as I suspected he was.” He regarded me closely. “Do you anticipate his return this evening?”
“I don’t know,” I said as candidly as I could. “I do have the impression he wants something from me, which accounts for the notice he has paid to me.” I put my hands into my waistcoat pocket. “I have done as you suggested, and made it clear that I seek legal advice in order to deal with gaining the money I, as Jeffries, believe I am entitled to have.”
“Very good. I think it will be as well that you continue this ruse, my lad. Let them know you have happened upon a solicitor who is willing to undertake acting on your behalf, but in order to accomplish this, you will have to give him thirty pounds.”
“Is that a large sum for such services?” I asked, uncertain of the amount. “If the charge is too high, Vickers may wonder.”
“It is not as great as many would charge, but it is well beyond August Jeffries’ means, and that is all that need concern us at this juncture.”
I hesitated. “You intend that I will have to avail myself of Mister Vickers’ offer for help?”
“Certainly, my dear Guthrie. You will have to be caught up in his plots if we are to learn anything of his intentions, as distasteful as that may be to you.” Holmes rubbed the bridge of his long nose. “I can understand why you do not welcome such a predicament. It is never pleasant to place oneself in the way of harm, or to be required to deal with individuals of such reprehensible conduct. And I sympathize, Guthrie, I truly do sympathize. But it is necessary that we penetrate to the heart of the maze.”
I stared at him. “But these are dangerous men. They were prepared to put a ... a red-hot poker on my wrist, where you made that infernal tattoo.”
“You have my gratitude,” said Mycroft Holmes with such sincerity that I was momentarily taken aback. “They will say nothing about the tattoo again unless you yourself bring it up.”
“How odd,” I said, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice.
“You have been established as one of a most secret society. They would be risking more than hot pokers if they questioned you again.” Holmes achieved a grim smile. “You are right. The man is dangerous. I have been aware of his nefarious activities these twenty years and more, and there are few men I would consider more formidably evil than Mister Justin Oliver Beauchamp Vickers.” He got to his feet and took a turn about the room. “Odd as it may seem, I am pleased that you are aware of what risk you are running with Vickers. Do not forget the peril he represents, I beg you.”
There was a history here, and one I sensed was particularly bitter for Mycroft Holmes; I sought to learn the whole. “He has done damage before?”
“A great deal of it, I regret to admit,” said Mycroft Holmes grimly. “I cannot be more specific than that now. In time I will tell you the entire sorry tale.” He reached for a bell to summon James. “Go back to the Cap and Balls, and let it be known that you need money to pay your solicitor. Do not be apologetic about it. And be firm in your choice, so that Vickers cannot foist another man upon you in James’ place, though I doubt they would try, now that they are convinced of your associates.” He made a gesture to encompass the suite where we sat. “I will be here tomorrow in the morning, and if you have word for me, come here yourself. Vickers will know this is where your solicitor keeps his chambers; any inquiry will reveal that P. N. James practices law here.”
“I will, and I must,” I said, wanting no part of any more dealings with Mister Vickers.
“As soon as you have some sense of what this fellow is up to, let me know of it.” He looked at me directly once more. “I am sorry that I must require so much of you, Guthrie, but I have no other I can trust in this instance, and no one who is able to gain such direct access to Vickers without attracting unwanted suspicion.” He came and put his hand on my shoulder. “I wish I could remove you from this role you have assumed at once, but, alas, that cannot be, not if I am to fulfill my sworn duty to England and the Crown.”
“Is the matter of that magnitude?” I asked, feeling a shock that was also a thrill. “Am I in immediate danger?”
“Not immediate, but the situation is precarious. There are certain delicate negotiations that might be irreparably damaged if Vickers and his lot could have their way in the matter. We must have some knowledge of their intentions if England is not to be badly compromised in this matter.” My employer looked across the room. “I did not think the case was so desperate yesterday, but word has come to my hand that makes it imperative we know what Vickers and his Brotherhood are doing, or risk having crucial diplomacy come to nothing.”
“Of course,” I said, ashamed that I should have allowed my fright to overcome my obligations.
“I am grateful to you,” said Mycroft Holmes, moving away from me once again. “It is a thankless task I have set for you, and doubtless, inexcusable in me to require so much of you. But I fear I must.”
I nodded, hoping to find words to express my respect for his judgment. All I was able to say was, “I will do as you ask.”
Mycroft Holmes rounded on me with purpose. “Then give me your close attention, Guthrie, and prepare yourself to enter the very gates of hell. “ For the next ten minutes he reiterated my instructions, and provided additional information which served to convince me that I would have to persevere in this venture. “It is fitting that you ask questions of Vickers. The character of August Jeffries, being no honest man himself, will question the acts and requests of others, and assume the worst of them. Use this to your advantage, and impart to him the full catalogue of your misfortunes, with as much self-serving remarks as you can summon up. If, for example, you are asked to travel, complain of the scale of accommodations you expect to be given or the time of the travel as inconvenient, to say nothing of the cost you will not wish to bear, and demand time to pursue your own interests while abroad.”
“Abroad?” I echoed, much struck by this new development. “Sir, I surmise you expect that such an offer will be made.”
“Why, yes,” said Mycroft Holmes blandly. “I expect you will be asked to venture as far as Bavaria, or possibly even to Vienna.”
“Can you tell me why?” I did not want to require him to reveal more than was prudent.
“Let us see if the offer is made first,” he suggested. “I would not like you to have a greater burden to carry than is yours already.”
I inclined my head to acknowledge the difficulty of the situation. “And you do not want it to seem to Vickers that I know more than I ought.”
“Precisely.” He was relieved. “That would increase your hazard, not lessen it.”
This time I recognized the wisdom of his reservations. “One thing, then, if you will, sir?”
“What is it?” He had heard the supplication in my words.
“Will you have a note delivered to my fiancée for me? I have not been able to show her the attention I had thought I would. I know it would disappoint both our families if I were to fail her now.” I had not thought I would be so long absent, and knew Elizabeth would expect an explanation. “Miss Roedale is unaware that I am not available to her at present. She is disinclined to tolerate slights.”
“Dear me,” said Holmes. “Is she such a stickler?”
“I begin to think she is,” I admitted, feeling disloyal for saying it. “If I continue to disappoint her, I will be worse than a cad to her. You may have noticed that she has a strong sense of what is due her. She has informed me that she expects us to choose our wedding day within two months.”
“That may not be possible,” said Holmes, carefully continuing, “How profound is your attachment?”
I felt my face redden. “I cannot answer that, Mister Holmes, not as a gentleman. I will confess I have never given the matter much thought. We have been promised to each other for all our lives. Our families have long anticipated our union.”
Holmes waved this remark away. “Yes. I understand.” He frowned, and then told me, “You may write to her if the note is brief and reveals nothing of the nature of your mission. I will most certainly arrange for it to be delivered. You may be satisfied that she will hold the missive in her hands by tomorrow morning.” He pointed to a box of stationery on the writing table. “Write now, if it suits you.”
Doing my best to order my thoughts, I sat down and reached for the inkwell and pen.
My dearest Elizabeth,
I write to inform you that my employer has instructed me that in the execution of my duties I must be absent from London for a period of time, which length cannot at this instant be accurately determined. Therefore I ask that you make allowances for this and hold me in your thoughts and your prayers while I discharge the obligations my employer has lain upon me. I will certainly keep you in my thoughts and prayers while I am gone.
I realize my travels may inconvenience you, and I ask your pardon for the same. I have no reason to suppose this will prove to be an isolated event, and I apologize for the awkwardness imposed upon us.
I will send you word as soon as I know the hour of my return, so that I may once again have the honor of visiting you and your parents at Twyford. Rest assured that I will inform you at once as soon as I have returned You have my word that I will do nothing that will betray your trust in me.
With my most profound affection and esteem,
Paterson Erskine Guthrie
It was not as elegant a letter as I wanted to write, but under the circumstances, I felt it conveyed my most pressing concerns in a way that would not displease Mycroft Holmes or Elizabeth Roedale. I gave it to Mister Holmes to peruse.
“Very good, Guthrie,” he approved as he handed it back to me. “Tyers will carry it to Twyford when he has completed his daily visit to his mother.”
“How is she?” I asked, recalling how dire her case was. I folded the letter, put it in an envelope, and sealed it, writing Elizabeth’s full name and direction on it.
“Failing,” said Holmes. “Tyers expects to be summoned for the end at any moment. It is very sad.”
“Will you extend my sympathies to Tyers,” I requested as I handed the letter to Mister Holmes once more.
“I will,” said Mycroft Holmes. “And now, I think it would be best for you to leave with James. You have been in here long enough to convince those watching that you have caught the interest of a solicitor. Make sure you do your parting from him abruptly, so that your watcher will know that all did not go to your satisfaction.” He gestured to the door before handing me ten shillings. “Carry on. I will expect to see you tomorrow.”
“God willing,” I replied, and went to the door. “How do I account for this money?”
“Any way you like. Theft would be one explanation, and not an unexpected one,” Mycroft Holmes suggested with a wicked twist of his lips.
“Theft,” I repeated as I left him alone.
James was sitting behind the desk in the outer room, bent over a stack of papers. He looked up as I came up to him. “You are done?”
“For today. I will come again tomorrow, if there is anything to report.” I noticed that James was preparing a brief, and this startled me.
“I must convince the world at large that I am a solicitor,” he pointed out to me. “Or this deception becomes more dangerous to all of us.”
“And are you a solicitor?” I asked, thinking that it was possible.
“I am a barrister, in fact,” said James with pride. “I am on the Prime Minister’s staff.” He raised his head as he reached for his well-worn robes. “He assigned me to work with Mycroft Holmes when the matter of the Freising Treaty began.”
“That was last year, was it not?” I asked, mentally reviewing the many notes I had transcribed in the last few months. “Some dealings with Germany.”
“It was; Bavaria, actually. The matter was assumed settled, but it now appears there may be some difficulty. A few of the less public provisions... you understand.” James clearly disliked difficulty. He gathered up his papers and consigned them to his portfolio once again. “This way, if you please.”
I followed him down the hall, doing my best to resume the manner of August Jeffries as I went, so that by the time we stepped onto the narrow street, my expression was truculent. “I’ll get your damned money, then,” I said, loudly enough to attract the attention of several persons passing by.
“I will wait for your call, Mister... Jeffries, is it?” James was able to make himself subservient and arrogant at once, and I admired this talent even as I prepared—in Jeffries’ character—to despise it.
“And right well you know it is Jeffries. August Jeffries; you will hear my name again, I give you my word, sir,” I snarled, and turned away toward the Cap and Balls, letting my shoulders hunch as with anger and despair. I noticed that the beaked man was twenty yards or so behind me, ambling along as if distracted by the activity in the street around him.
Mister Holt was in the taproom by the time I got back, and he poured out a serving of gin as I came through the door. “You look like you could use it.”
I took the drink and threw twice the cost of it on the bar. “Make sure I have a second,” I snapped, and made my way to the inglenook. The odor of junipers was so strong that I nearly gagged as I brought the glass to my lips. Belatedly I thought I should have asked for a slice of beef and some cheese while I was with Mister Holmes. I decided I would not be so foolish in future. Realizing I should make some display of the few coins in my possession, I drew two of them out of my pocket and held them up. “Tonight I’d like a bit of supper, Mister Holt.”
“Oho, so you made a few pence today,” the landlord declared. “Well, what would you like?”
“You might say that I made them,” I answered, being deliberately evasive. “And it’s shillings, not pence.”
Holt shrugged. “It’s all one to me how you came by it, so long as you meet the price here.”
“Well, this should get me enough to fill my belly.” I put my hand squarely on the small tabletop. “And none of those portions that are all fat and gristle, if you please. Let me have the best meat here.”
“It’s a mutton stew today,” Holt informed me. “A bowl is ten pence, bread and cheese with it, fourteen pence ha’penny.”
“I’ll have the lot,” I said, tossing him one of the shillings. “And a pot of mustard for sauce.”
He caught it easily and tucked it away in his apron pocket. “I’ll be back with it fast as you can say knife.”
I hunched over the gin as I waited; I saw the beak-nosed man come into the taproom and settle himself near the door where a pair of draymen were muttering over their beer. He made no sign of seeing me, and showed no interest in anyone in the taproom, but I knew that if I rose to visit the necessary house, he would not be far behind me. As Holt brought the bowl of stew I had ordered with a plate of bread and cheese, I noticed my observer look surprised.
“There you are, Mister Jeffries, and may you enjoy your supper,” said the landlord as he put it before me. “Food and drink enough for any man.”
“True enough,” I said, and sniffed at the stew, which seemed flavored only with pepper. I would need the mustard to make it edible.
“You’ll have another glass when that one is empty,” Holt reminded me before he went back to his station behind the bar.
I was hungry enough to enjoy this unpromising fare; it would absorb the worst of the gin, or so I hoped, for tonight I reckoned I would need my wits about me if Vickers returned.
FROM THE PERSONAL JOURNAL OF PHILIP TYERS:
Today Mother was much worse, sunk into a dreamy state that does not bode well for her life.
M.H. has been about errands for the Bavarian treaty; he returned here in a country squire’s riding gear and the look of a man who had taken a nasty fall riding to hounds. Upon my examination of him, I discovered he was bleeding in the shoulder, whereupon he produced the weapon which had inflicted the injury—a small skinning knife with a thin, wicked blade. “Much more of this,” he told me, “and I’ll have to send for Sutton ahead of schedule.” During his absence from this flat, he has learned that there is likely to be an attempt to steal the treaty before it can be signed. No amount of coaxing on my part would persuade him to tell me more than this concerning his escapades. He hopes that G. will provide the information necessary to prevent such a theft, for it would be a disaster.