Round Robin Pastiche

a collective effort by the members of RUSS-L

Chapter 4

by "What a Noble Mind is Here O'erthrown!"

Holmes dragged the trunk over to a bench and dropped himself down upon the seat. Carefully, he removed his set of picklocks from an internal pocket. Glancing around to be sure that no-one was watching, he had the trunk open in a matter of minutes. Carefully lifting the lid, he observed objects wrapped in canvas: his probing hand felt metal, a candelabrum shape, then a box, then what felt like chalices made of metal. He closed and locked the trunk once more.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the telegrapher's boy approaching him. "Here's an answer to your telegraph, sir." He thanked the boy, gave him a couple of coins, and opened the yellow envelope.

I AM COMING TO LONDON STOP ARRIVING ON FIRST MORNING TRAIN TO CHARING CROSS STOP ARRANGEMENTS ARE MADE STOP MRH

Holmes sighed. He had trusted Russell to make her decision; she had done so, and now she was on her way. He looked at the station clock: it was almost one in the morning. The first train would arrive at eight. Holmes hailed a cab and gave instructions for the driver to take him and his trunk to a nearby inn, where he ate a meager and unsavoury supper and went to bed only to rise almost immediately and sit in the window-seat, smoking his pipe, staring at nothing.

At quarter to eight, Holmes returned to the station, and took up a position near the ticket-seller's kiosk. He bought a newspaper, folded it up and appeared to be deeply engrossed in the morning's news; he noted every person who bought tickets. The train puffed and grumbled to itself on the track; no Russell. The conductor shouted, "All aboard!"

It was unlike Russell to change her mind. Holmes was ready to board the train when he noticed a shabby figure approaching the platform. Stooped, wearing a tattered cloak and an unspeakable hat and carrying a disreputable portmanteau, a scarf wrapped around head and face so as to make him indistinguishable from a number of others, the figure limped towards the steps. Holmes courteously held out his hand: "May I help you, sir?" A mutter, and the cripple managed to climb the steps, puffing but unaided.

Holmes sat down across from the person; they were the only two in the car. "Very clever," he observed. "It was that old portmanteau of mine that gave you away; I thought I had thrown it out years ago." Mary Russell unwound the scarf from her head. "You know I never allow you to throw away anything that might be useful in the future," she remarked. "Now tell me everything."

"First, what of Judith?"

"Mrs Hudson is caring for her. She told me that if we came across any corpses, we must tell her all about them."

Holmes chuckled. "Bloodthirsty, isn't she? I imagine she will want to become a forensic physician."

"Or a writer."

On the way to Dover, Holmes explained to Russell the import of the meeting at Mycroft's rooms, the theft of the sacred objects, the murders and the disappearance of Elisheba Spinosa. She sat quietly, listening, now and then looking past Holmes' shoulder at the landscape unrolling as the train moved.

"I have heard of Mrs Spinosa," she said. "She was one of the first code-breakers to work on the side of the Allies, although she was very young. She also devised a code that is for all intents and purposes unbreakable; it has been used many times for diplomatic purposes. She is thought to have disappeared, although she was "seen" in France for a brief time. No-one knows where she is today. But she is a survivor. I believe she has concealed herself for the time being."

Holmes filled his pipe, struck a vesta. "The question foremost in my mind is, 'why steal sacred objects?' They are not worth much in the open market. Stealing the money meant for the hospital; well, that is another thing."

"That is the same as murdering innocent people," said Russell. "Anyone who holds life so cheaply is indeed a murderer." She looked down at her hands, then into Holmes' grey eyes. "I have never been the target of prejudice, but I understand it."

"It is a demented concept, that one so-called 'race' should be pre-eminent over others," Holmes answered. "And yet, it has happened before. When the Christians first began to be visible as a group in ancient Rome, they were brutally murdered, made to face the lions in the arena. In the past two hundred years, fear of the Albigensian heresy caused the death of thousands in France. If you look back far enough, there are the Crusades, a useless, wasteful and virulent war against a peaceful sect of Mohammedans."

Russell nodded. "I fear that it is happening again, and perhaps for other reasons. Jews have grown wealthy through trade and commerce. I've read the rantings of Hitler, and it seems clear that he wishes to prevent Jews from participating in the German economy."