Holiday

"acquainted with Vitruvius"

Taking a deep breath of the salt-scented ocean air touched with exotic, tropical flora undertones, Mary stretched out her feet, digging her toes deeper into the sun warmed sugar-white sand on the shore of this uncharted desert isle. Under drowsy lids, she looked over at her true love who was also half-asleep next to her. Although this three hour boat excursion started out being quite taxing, the three weeks (at present) it had turned into was proving quite relaxing. One must ignore, of course, the tropical storm they sailed into right after they left Honolulu harbor, and the hours and hours of seasickness she endured. Granted, there were no phones, no lights, no motor cars - in fact, not a single luxury - but as they were not on a case and did not have to worry about someone bashing their heads in with a loose balcony, it was a peaceful change. Besides, this was far more luxurious than many of the other places she had been with her husband while on a case. Certainly it was warmer, and she could have a bath every night if she so desired - another treasured element frequently missing from their investigations.

An unusual chirping noise followed by a bizarre buzzing and then a noise that sound like an elephant with a tummy ache made her slightly turn her head to the left towards the five other guests - castaways, really - on the island. It was the Professor again with his adoring fan club - Mary Ann, the innocent farm girl, and Ginger, the cinema actress - and the two would-be apprentices - the ship's crew - creating... was that a gramophone? Hmmm, perhaps her thought about not having a single luxury was misplaced, as the Professor seemed to be able to create just about anything he desired. Quiet inexplicitly, she wondered why he had not been able to fix the boat, or build a new one, or even build a hot air balloon. She looked over at her spouse, now gently snoozing away. Her last thoughts as she drifted off into dreamland behind him were that she would have to ask him about that later...

Several weeks earlier...

Mycroft was worried, almost worried enough to make a grammatical error in the memo he was writing. He put down his pen, and walked over to the window, staring vacantly over the scene below. It was rainy for the fourth straight day - a cold damp mist that causes untreated head colds to become pneumonia - which was fairly common for London, but his mood seemed to make the day drearier, greyer in some metaphysical fashion. He saw a young couple with their heads close together, apparently in love, and sighed. Turning away from the window and the young lovers, he sat back down at his desk, utterly miserable.

It was so utterly silly, the disagreement he and Jane had two days ago. It started simple enough, as all of these sorts of disagreements start. He had found out that she was one of his "associates" soon after they met. Her role was relatively minor; she collected information from other associates, and, on occasion, gave out information to associates. An associate would enter the library, proceed to the reference desk where Jane's normal perch was, and request "Miss de Vine's" assistance to find a certain book. And since there was no "Miss de Vine" at the library, Jane would know that this was an associate of Mycroft's, and based on the title of the book, which folder to hand to the associate who would add or remove information from the folder before returning it to "Miss de Vine." At the end of the day, Jane would drop the folders in a special wooden case by her desk which would be removed after hours and replaced with an identical case containing new folders. Very simple and very safe for "Miss de Vine."

Mycroft, however, after receiving a ten-page memo about possible moles in the system, was concerned about her safety, a topic that he attempted to bring up when they had their daily stroll on Monday. In pervious days, they had met for tea, but Jane, concerned about Mycroft's roundness, had decided that he needed a bit of exercise. "Now Jane," he said, already in a slightly sour mood because of having to take walk in a horrible misty rain instead of reaching for a steaming cup of tea, "You really should retire and devote yourself to your librarian duties."

Startled, Jane responded with a flat, "No." Unlike Mycroft, she had always loved walking in the rain, provided she had her wellies on, and her hair sufficiently covered, although she usually preferred the warmer spring rains.

"But Jane, it could be -"

"Mycroft, I have been doing this role for a dozen years without incident. Why should there be one now?"

"Jane, there have been some indications - "

"Indications of what? Someone taking library books? Someone stalking librarians?" Jane asked, beginning to get exasperated at Mycroft's insinuations. She stopped, paused for a second while Mycroft stopped and turn to face her, then glared at him, daring him to contradict her.

"No, no - don't be silly, but some of my associates -"

"Mycroft! Most of your associates do not spend their afternoons sitting behind the reference desk! I am not in the 'field,' I do not spend my afternoons tailing people through dark, secret alleys, and I am not undercover in some foreign land. What could happen to me?" The exasperation was quickly becoming anger.

"Even so, Jane, I wish you would -" Mycroft, being less knowledgeable than many about the warning tones of women, continued on instead of letting the matter drop.

"NO!" Jane said, with more force than she realized, then turned and swiftly walked back towards the library, effectively ending the discussion as Mycroft was not much of a speed walker.

"Jane!" He called to her, hoping she would slow down, but also making a mental note to be wary of that look and tone again.

A knock at his office door brought Mycroft to the present. "Enter."

A polite looking clerk entered and handed Mycroft a folder very similar to one that Jane would handle. "Sir? There seems to be a break down in our information collection system."

Mycroft looked up from the folder he was about to open with a very puzzled look. "A break down?"

"Yes, sir. Several associates have reported being unable to locate 'Miss de Vine' at the reference desk."

"What? Since when?" Mycroft's already dismal state of mind got worse. Had Jane left because of their disagreement?

"Apparently since Tuesday morning, sir. Mr. Dupree reports making contact with her Monday evening after teatime. Miss Bond likewise did not report for work on Tuesday morning."

Mycroft knew that the next step would be to send someone to her flat if it had not already been so done; when he inquired and learned that this task was still uncompleted, he took it upon himself so to do. Within five minutes, he had collected his umbrella and was on his way.

As he walked out the door, the junior clerk turned to the senior clerk, handed him five bob, and asked, "So, how did you know he'd go check on the flat himself?"

Several weeks later...

A cool breeze filtered through the woven mats that served as the walls of their cottage. Mary was climbing into what currently functioned as the connubial couch, next to her husband. After listening to the sound of the crickets and other nocturnal creatures for a minute, she turned to him and asked him what she had been wondering about earlier.

"Why has the Professor not fixed the boat?" he began, whispering softly in her ear, as he gently stroked her soft, Pikake-scented hair. "I thought that would be rather obvious. He finally has the enviable position of being able to resolve the old 'Ginger or Mary Ann' debate. Not to mention, he is the most eligible bachelor for miles, an honour I doubt he has held before." He smiled suggestively at his wife, and then added, "I am sure once the ladies realize that he is able but not willing to fix the boat, they will persuade him that escaping from this island is his primary concern."

"That makes sense," Mary admitted. "We can always drop a word in one of their ears when we are ready to return to civilization." She smiled endearingly at her spouse, then said, "Now, about this 'Millionaire and his wife' title..."

She leaned over to her husband and gave him a soft, but promising kiss.

Several weeks earlier...

Mycroft arrived at Jane's flat and knocked on the door. He did not really expect her to answer, but he had to start his investigation at some place. He almost smiled at himself. Investigation! I am beginning to sound like my brother. But that though reminded him of something else that had been troubling him: his brother and sister-in-law were missing. He had received notice that the boat they had booked for a tour of the Hawaiian Islands had disappeared, and their last known location was not near any charted islands. He was certain they were safe, but there was little he could do to help find them, and they were together which was more than he could say about Jane and himself.

Mycroft was about to knock a second time when the door on the flat next to Jane opened, and the ultimate gentleman's gentleman appeared. After hearing Mycroft's request for information about Miss Bond, he indicated no, he had not seen her, but as he had a key to her flat (for those afternoons when she was late at the library and could not get home to fix dinner for Dorothy L), he would fetch it for Mycroft to check her flat to see if there was any trace of Miss Bond. Mycroft agreed this would be a reasonable course of action and, moments later, was standing just outside the door of her flat with key in hand.

A day earlier...

Jane had the most horrible headache. And she was cold and more than slightly frightened. She had been lying on a narrow metal cot for what seemed like hours, pretending still to be unconscious from whatever vile drug her captors had given her. From what she overheard as they discussed her fate while they thought she still slept, they were under the impression that she was someone else, a certain Chinese bookseller even though she was clearly of proper British decent. Further, they felt she knew signification information about an item of great value to them, a "Black Pearl." Jane was not sure if the "Black Pearl" was an object or a person, and while she could inquire about it, she felt sure she was better off living under some ignorance. Besides, she reasoned, she could always look it up in the library once she escaped.

And yes, Miss Jane S. Bond definitely planned to escape. Soon.

A day later...

Mycroft sat in a chair in Jane's small kitchen, absently stroking the black cat with a white nose, Agatha, sitting in his lap as he pondered the absence of Jane. He had searched her flat, finding no trace of her. She had returned home after work on Monday and spent the night here; he could see evidence of breakfast dishes being washed and left to dry on the rack next to the sink. Her bed had been made, indicating she had gone thought what appeared to be her normal morning routine. And there were no notes or other signs of where she might have gone.

Mycroft blenched as Dorothy L., the sleek pewter cat, suddenly peeked her dainty head around the door. Even though the kitchen was considered Agatha's territory, she was hungry, having not had a proper meal in several days, and was willing to brave the wrath of the bigger cat in search of substance. Mycroft dropped Agatha onto the floor, walked over to the cabinet where the cat food was stored, and selected a can of tuna for Agatha and a can of salmon for Dorothy L. He placed the tuna on a small dish marked "Agatha" on the floor in the corner, then followed a rather vocal Dorothy L. who sensed a touch of favouritism in this feeding of Agatha first into the sitting room where a similar dish was marked "Dorothy L." As he sat and watched the little cat consume her meal, he wondered where Jane had gone in such a hurry that she did not plan for her cats.

A day earlier...

Seconds after the heavy door slammed shut, Jane cautiously opened one eye, and peered about the room to see if she was finally alone. Seeing no one with her left eye, she slowly opened her right eye and sat up. She was in a chilly, small stone chamber, probably part of the cellar in an old building with heavy masonry walls and a ceiling of solid wooden timbers. Light was coming from a small square opening about five feet from the floor in a wooden door, presumably the door she just heard being slammed shut. From this dim light, it appeared that she and the cot were the only objects in the dismal little chamber. Jane placed her feet on the floor then silently, in an almost leisurely manner, walked across the room to the door. Carefully peeking out the door, she saw the hallway was clear, but when she tried to open the door, it was locked.

For those unacquainted with Jane, her next movements might have been very surprising. She began to pat her hair, mussing with it the way the wind might to a passenger in the rear seat of a convertible. She then pulled a small hair comb, surprisingly shaped like a spider, out of her hair. Rearranging the legs of the arachnid, she applied the newly formed picklock to the door and within moments heard a click as the cylinders in the lock turned. Pushing gently on the door, she opened it slightly, and carefully looked through the opening. Seeing no one, she opened it further, slipped out, and then quietly shut the door back. Jane crept down the hall as silently as she could, pausing twice when she thought she heard someone approaching. At the end of the hall, she climbed a short staircase of five steps to open a door in the butler's pantry. From there it was simple to sneak out of the house to freedom.

A day later...

Mycroft was feeding a third can to Dorothy L. and a fourth can to Agatha when he heard the door to Jane's flat being opened. He started towards the door to see whom it might be when Jane herself stepped into the room.

"Jane!"

"Mycroft! What are you doing here?"

"Jane, where have you been? We - I have been worried about you."

"That is sweet of you Mycroft, but how did you get into my residence?"

"Ah, the neighbor let me in to check on the cats."

"The poor dears! Thank you for checking on them."

By this point, Jane had entered into her flat, gone into the kitchen, and begun preparing herself (and likewise Mycroft) a cup of tea. She collapsed into the chair Mycroft had just recently vacated. After she had consumed a cup and a half of tea and three biscuits, she began to tell her story, much to the relief of Mycroft who was beginning to think Jane had just run off and was not going to reveal anything to him.

She had awoken early on Tuesday, deciding to visit Mycroft at his club where he often dined for breakfast to apologize for the way she had behaved and to bring him a slim volume of poetry written by a Mr. Alton Brown that she thought he might enjoy. It was most ungracious of her on Monday the way she had dashed off without so much as a good-bye or fare-ye-well. She had also run off with Mycroft's second best brollie, for which she was especially ashamed, hence the volume of poetry.

However, just a block from his club, she was accosted by three extraordinarily rude gentlemen (if one could be so generous to use that term for these three), who dragged her into an alley, and drugged her with chloroform. She assumed it was chloroform; it was sickly sweet like chloroform in any case.

"And when I awoke, I continued to appear asleep and learned that my captives thought that I was a bookseller - because of the poetry - with knowledge of something called the 'Black Pearl.' Do you know about what they were talking? No? I will see what I can find in the library. Once they left, I escaped with the lovely comb your sister-in-law had given me, and worked my way home riding in two donkey carts, a train boxcar, and walking a total of seventeen miles."

"I am glad you are safe, Jane. I was so worried!"

Jane smiled, getting ready to play her ace. "And Mycroft, you realized if I had gone straight to the library, I would have been perfectly fine."

Mycroft thought of debating this statement, but being a wiser man today than he was Monday, merely smiled back at her and gently patted her arm. "I probably should be getting back to the office," he said, standing up.

"Mycroft... "Jane began hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"Do you mind waiting a bit while I wash? I am a bit... wary right now."

"Of course! But what happened to your housekeeper? Miss Bunter, was it?"

"Bunting. Miss Bunting. Indigo has gotten married - to a Mr. Grosbeak - but she still comes by twice a week and on special occasions to help out." Jane smiled again, and started to head off towards her room.

"And Jane," Mycroft called after her.

She turned towards him with an inquisitive look. "Yes?"

"I have a case for you, something specific for your talents. I will tell you about it over dinner tonight."

Jane smiled again and disappeared down the hall.

Several weeks later...

Jane was almost beside herself with excitement. Mycroft had given her a case, her very own case, a case she felt certain she was about to complete. The captain of the vessel they were on had just called to her, letting her know they were at the coordinates she had specified (not on any of his charts, as he had already added multiple times), and had not found - wait! There was something! A small island! The captain's astonishment was evident even by just hearing his voice. As they entered the small cove, Jane began to pace around the deck, confident that she was correct, but still apprehensive.

The captain, listening to her nervous footsteps, stepped out from the bridge. "Here, Miss Bond." he said, handing her the scope. "There are people there. It looks like we have found them."

A few minutes later, Jane was standing on the beach. "Hallo, Mary!"

Mary, still in a half doze, sat up. "Jane? What are you doing here?" Mary's excitement grew as she realized what was happening. "Everyone - we have been rescued!"

Later that evening as they sat in an altogether too expensive hotel on Waikiki Beach, Mary returned to a variation on her first question. "Jane, how did you find us?"

Jane smiled, thought back to the simple case Mycroft had presented to her to find his missing brother at that quiet, intimate dinner, and replied, "Elementary my dear! I am a librarian! Nothing is uncharted for me!"