“I AM SORRY, my dear Guthrie,” said Mycroft Holmes the next morning as he arrived at the chamber of Solicitor James about twenty minutes after I had sent word through James that it was urgent I see him. “I would have been here earlier, but I did not want to attract any undue attention to our meeting here. And I was inconvenienced when I found my flat had been thoroughly and messily searched when I returned from my club last night. Tyers was visiting his mother at the time, and that left the culprits free to cast about like wild men.”
“Good God,” I said in dismay. “Was anything of value taken?”
“Not that I have been able to determine after a cursory examination. Tyers is setting the place to rights now, and I will learn more later.” He took my note from his pocket. “So Vickers wants to send you to Germany today. He is not taking any chances that you might change your mind, or have the opportunity to learn too much to his disadvantage.”
“So it seemed to me,” I agreed, trying to put as good a face upon matters as I could. “He has already done all that he can to ensure that I will be beholden to him.”
“And he will try to do more,” said Mycroft Holmes. “It has long been his pattern to bind his servants to him with fear and indebtedness of all kinds. You will have to make it seem you are willing to be one of his creatures.” He paced down the room, hands clasped behind his back. “I can only think it is indeed the Freising Treaty he is seeking to obtain, and that is not welcome intelligence.”
“What is it about this treaty that troubles you so much in this regard?” I asked.
Mycroft Holmes halted and gave me a long, direct stare. “This treaty may not be particularly significant in and of itself, but there are ramifications to it that cause me the gravest concern. This treaty may be the last chance to prevent a destructive war that could tear apart half of Europe. I dare say it may drag us into another calamity like the Crimea. And it is all the result of folly.” He took a cigar from his case and returned the case to the inside pocket of his coat. “Nations, very much like people, need to grow.”
I watched Holmes, wondering if he intended this last reflection to apply to my youth and inexperience. But he was snipping off the end of the cigar, apparently unaware of my presence. As he lit the cigar, he gave a quick glance in my direction, and then stared up at the ceiling.
“There are so many young nations today,” he explained, luxuriating in the first puff of rum-flavored smoke. “Some are not much more than children in the scheme of things. In the past such new nations looked to older, wiser states for direction, and to curb their impetuousness. But not now, not with the powerful German states uniting under the Prussian banner and the hand of Otto von Bismarck. This rapid emergence has been at the expense of the Hapsburgs. Austria as we knew it is fading rapidly, and it is being supplanted by a nation with no tradition of responsible government, much less any diplomatic sagacity.” He studied the graceful arabesques from the glowing tip of his cigar as if a code were hidden there that he might break.
Although I had not yet fully grasped the extent to which my employer was involved in foreign affairs, I sensed that he had more than an academic interest in European developments. When he ventured nothing more, I asked, “Is there to be a treaty between Germany and Austria?”
“Actually, no. Their problems cannot yet be addressed. There are other, more pressing matters to be settled before those questions may be answered.” He flicked the ash off his cigar. “This treaty was negotiated by England as a neutral party in order to prevent a particularly disruptive war from erupting in the Balkans. A most unsatisfactory region, the Balkans: everyone is eager to rule himself for the specific purpose of being free to slaughter his neighbor.”
“If the region is as volatile as you say, why should we bother with such pugnacious peoples?” I asked. It hardly seemed worth the effort to me.
Mister Holmes sighed and commenced to twirl his watch fob. “Yes. Ordinarily it would be a useless venture. But their interminable struggles do not involve only themselves. Every nation in the area, including Italy, feels the need to demonstrate its influence in the disputes. More than that, they all fear loss of importance should they fail to take action. The great powers are trapped by their sense of national honor as well as their fear of appearing weak or indecisive. Thus they mobilize their armies over questions of endless dilemmas of regional borders and the duty charged on fox pelts.”
“But surely,” I began, hoping to glean some reason from what he had said, “this need not result in war?”
“Need not, but very nearly did.” Mycroft Holmes stopped twirling his watch fob and spoke more thoughtfully. “Two nations, neither as populous nor as advanced as England, were just on the brink of coming to battle. Unfortunately every major nation except England has agreements that would require them to intervene in this conflict. None of them felt secure enough to turn away from the impending crisis.”
I took up his tone with more indignation. “And because a handful of hill-people cannot agree on their—”
“This was not simply a matter of a few peasants potting away at one another. We could have had all Europe and Russia joining in the argument. We came very close to Armageddon last month.”
“Then what does Vickers want with the treaty? Your book said the Brotherhood seeks the downfall of European states; why not let well enough alone, and let the war come?” I could see where those in high governmental positions might oppose this treaty, but I could not guess what a man of Vickers’ interests would gain from compromising it.
“Ah, that may be the heart of the issue,” said Mycroft Holmes. “He is indeed part of the occult Brotherhood—as you say, you read something of their history the other day—which seeks to bring about the downfall of all royal houses in Europe and Asia. Its goal is the complete destruction of all nations and empires so that they may assume total power in place of the legitimate rulers.” He shook his head. “They must not prevail.”
“No, certainly not,” I said at once, finding the whole notion dreadful.
“And you will have the task of preventing their interference with this treaty. For if it fails, there will be more and greater difficulties because of it.” He drew on his cigar and blew out the smoke. “For now the Balkan crisis has been diffused. The treaty we are concerned with gives guarantees by England to one of those countries involved—enough so that they have prevailed upon their smaller ally in the Balkans to give ground. The treaty has been most aptly named the Treaty of Reassurance.”
I shared his ironic smile. “An interesting touch.”
“Isn’t it,” he said, and went on, “Our problem now is that there are nations, some who are numbered among England’s friends, who would not entirely approve certain secret clauses in the treaty.” He set the cigar aside. His voice was now more solemn than I had ever heard it before. “The matter is too grave for rumor and suspicion to prevail. The exposure of those secret clauses as we have signed and sealed them would bring about the very war it is supposed to prevent. I have striven too long to permit peace to elude us now. Only two copies of the entire treaty exist. One is safely under the domes of the other signatory’s capital. The other, due to the peculiarities of the messenger entrusted with its safe escort to London, is at risk.”
“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.