A Strange Discovery Indeed

by "Her Much Learning Hath Made Her Mad"

Prologue

Once, while Diogenes was sunning himself, Alexander came up to him and offered to grant Diogenes any request. "Stand out of my light," he replied.

Why do people give to beggars, Diogenes was asked, but not to philosophers? "Because they think they may one day be lame or blind, but never expect that they will turn to philosophy." To a young man who complained that he was ill suited to study philosophy, Diogenes said "Why then do you live, if you do not care to live well?"

Holmes thought--not for the first time--that my preferred choice of reading material was misdirected if not down right lacking. Consequently, we had proceeded to the attic to find some old books he wished me to look through. In the corner of the attic was a stack of portfolios, common place books, and a red leather box that looked suspiciously like one of the boxes the Members of Parliament carry.

"Holmes?" I asked as I picked it up.

"Yes, Russell, it is was you think it is, but it was no longer in use when given to me."

"What's in it?" I asked shaking it and peering intently at the lock.

"If you can pick the lock without leaving too many telltale signs you may see for yourself," he challenged.

I searched the attic for something suitable with which to pick the lock while he continued to search for the books in question. I ignored his "tsk-ing" no doubt because I did not have a picklock hidden somewhere on my person and ripped a piece of wire from an old frame. Sitting on a well-traveled steamer trunk, I tried my hand at opening the lock. It was surprisingly easy. "Holmes, if all such boxes are so easy to open the nation's security is truly at risk."

"Which is," he responded over his shoulder, "one of the reasons that particular configuration is no longer in use."

In the box were letters addressed to Holmes, in a precise and feminine hand I noted curiously, and several pictures. I began to shuffle through them. I had seen the portraits in Holmes' study on many occasions, but even if I had not the family resemblance would be very clear. There was no mistaking those keen eyes. I had stumbled onto pictures of Holmes' elder brother Mycroft. I knew of Mycroft originally from Uncle John's stories and from Holmes' endearing, though infrequent, references to his brother. I had only in the last year had the opportunity meet the redoubtable gentleman. There was one photo which appeared to be taken during the elder's university years and one of the brothers during what I assumed was Holmes' university years. There were also intricately detailed hand sketches of a country home signed with the initials MRH. "MRH"?

"Mycroft Robert " Holmes responded absently.

"You never mentioned his artistic talent; does he play a musical instrument as well?"

"He learned to play the piano as a child, but I do not think he has touched one in forty years. He probably has his oboe stored somewhere."

"Oboe?" I had quite an amusing picture in my mind of this large man with this thin instrument.

"Oboe." This was confirmed with a tone that suggested the younger brother was not amused.

"These sketches are quite good."

"They were made during the time father was encouraging him to be an architect. Of course, it was that encouragement that caused him to abandon the pursuit of his talent."

There was no malice in that remark, rather a resignation of sorts. The last photo took me completely unawares. A man I recognized and a younger woman I did not in costume. "Holmes, why is Mycroft dressed as Caesar in this picture and who is the woman next to him?"

"Hmmm ...?" Holmes was preoccupied in a book and so I had to take the picture to him. "Look again, Russell, the toga is Greek not Roman. Laetisha's costume is a that worn by a Korean ceremonial fan dancer, I believe."

"I stand corrected. Why is Mycroft wearing a Greek toga and who is Laetisha?"

"In reverse order, Laetisha is my sister-in-law and Mycroft is wearing a Greek toga because he was portraying Zeus."

"You have another brother?"

"No, just Mycroft."

"Laetisha is his wife?"

"Very good Russell, that is typically to what 'sister-in-law' refers."

I just stared at him incredulously.

"Oh very well, if you must know that happens to be their wedding portrait." With that, he turned and headed back down the stairs. "Do shut the door when you leave, Russ, and do not be long Mrs. Hudson will have our supper soon."

The back of the photo read "Inverness, July, 1893," during Holmes' absence from London. I shoved everything back into the red box, put it under my arm, and headed after Holmes determined to hear the story, the whole story of my strange discovery.

Knowing that if I appeared too interested I might not get all of the information I wanted I waited until we were seated at dinner to return the conversation to the picture. "Holmes, I am curious. Why a wedding in costume?"

He looked at me and his expression took on a wry grin. "I was not there, myself, as you have no doubt surmised, but according to the letter which accompanied the picture the wedding was somewhat spontaneous."

"Mycroft? Spontaneous? Though you have not divulged his life history, I never got the impression from you that he was the spontaneous sort."

He shook his head, "No, he is not. He is orderly, methodical, painstakingly routine."

"And yet he marries a woman dressed as a Korean fan dancer while he is dressed as Zeus and at Inverness no less?"

"Believe me, Russ, no one was more surprised than I was. About a month after the picture was taken I received a wire which read: S [stop]. Have wired funds to agreed location [stop] Married last fortnight [stop]. I spent three days trying to decipher the thing assuming it was some code." He shook his head in disbelief, but I did not know if it was at his brother or himself. "No other correspondence between us mentioned a wife, and I did not really know for sure until I saw him at the Diogenes Club about a week after my return. I did come around to asking him about being married. His answer was that they were 'quite compatible and easily content.'"

Holmes stopped and waited until Mrs. Hudson had refilled our coffee and left the room before he continued. "I did not get the picture or the story behind it for sometime. My communication with Mycroft had been sporadic during my absence and he maintained the charade of my death until after I returned to London. Laetisha and I have maintained an infrequent correspondence since that time. She sent the picture around the time of their fifth anniversary, if I recall. Apparently, Mycroft had gone to Scotland at the request of the PM to visit a vacationing French emissary and his family. Laetisha went along because, as it turned out, she had gone to school in Switzerland--she is American--with the emissary's wife. It was all rather complicated. Apparently the emissary hosted a party and insisted everyone come in costume. I have no doubt that both Mycroft and Laetisha attempted to get out of going to Scotland, especially as Mycroft hates being out of London anyway, let alone get out of the party. According to Mycroft, he was on one side of the room, she was on the other, and he took one look at her and decided they should marry."

"How romantic!" I teased.

Holmes snorted in mild disgust.

"Had they known each other long?"

"They met just before I left London. I gather from some conversations with my brother that he and Laetisha ... had grown quite close around the beginning of that year. He proceeded to walk over to her and offer his proposal."

"Clearly she said yes."

"Actually, she said, 'Do not ask, sir, unless you mean it. I do not believe in long engagements.' So, they married that evening."

I looked at him in disbelief. "How could they manage such a thing?"

"Mycroft is capable of much that is mundane and even more that is mysterious. A Buddhist priest who also happened to be in attendance at the party married them in the courtyard. He, I understand, was in his robes not in costume, but everyone except the host, PM, and one or two others, assumed he was in costume and that the whole thing was some elaborate party entertainment."

"I cannot fathom your brother entertaining party-goers in such a fashion."

"Nor would he. But the diversion served its purpose--political and personal--for all concerned."

"Is the marriage legal?"

"I asked the same question: Is a wedding performed by a Buddhist priest between an English Anglican and an American Methodist in Inverness legal?"

"And is it?" I wondered.

"They seem to think so; it has proven binding in any respect."

"A marriage of convenience for political and personal gain? How extraordinary."

"Hardly. Marriages have been based on political alliances for centuries, you know that. But I agree that the thought of my brother entering into such an arrangement brought me more moments of discomfort than my original thoughts of his marrying for love."

"Then the marriage is just one of convenience?"

"The marriage is genuine and based on their regard for one another; it just took place under unusual circumstances. And Russ ..."

"Yes, Holmes?"

"You are only one of about a dozen people who know Mycroft is married. I doubt he would object to you knowing, but he would object to you discussing it. It is not common knowledge and they wish it to remain as such. They have kept their secret for many years and intend to keep it for many more."

"Government security?" I remarked more sarcastically than I intended.

"Yes," came a stern reply, "as well as personal security. I'm sure you can understand that, more so now than before perhaps." He softened his tone and it took on almost an amused quality. "They are also just highly private people. Each has a public persona and knowledge of their long marriage jeopardizes that."

"Where was she when we stayed at Mycroft's (before we left for Jerusalem)?"

"On an 'errand' for Mycroft. She takes on tasks from time to time at Mycroft's request, especially if they involve her country as well." He paused as if trying to determine just how much he should tell me. And I suddenly wondered if he was making the whole thing up for some sort of perverse amusement or if some tragedy had be struck her. "She did come down with him when you were hospitalized, but she had to leave for the continent before you regained consciousness."

"I know I was tired and that the period before we left was chaotic, but I saw no sign of a woman living in that flat."

"For the most part, they maintain separate quarters; she lives next door. Mycroft has said that that is the secret of their association--each is permitted his and her own habits. Do you recall the tapestry hanging on the west wall of the sitting room?"

"Yes, oriental I'd say; fifteenth century?

"You say correctly. The tapestry hides an adjoining door between his flat and hers. A quilt made in Pennsylvania, Amish according to Mycroft, hides her side of the door. I stayed in Mycroft's room while you were in the guestroom; he stayed on her side. The robe and slippers were hers as well."

My curiosity was definitely getting the better of me. "What is she like?"

"You're welcome to the letters, Russ. You have some knowledge of her already, in fact, as she is the proprietor of one of your favorite book shoppes in London. If you have other questions I'll try to fill in as I can based on what my brother has told me and what I know from our few meetings."

"I just cannot imagine Mycroft being married."

Holmes paused for long moment, and I sensed he was trying to determine how much to tell me. "Neither could I. I once asked him what made him cross that room to ask for her hand. 'Diogenes walked the streets with a lantern looking for an honest man,' he said, 'but I found the most honesty in the light in her eyes.'"

With that astonishing remark, he went to tend his bees and I was left with more questions about the woman, dear Brother Mycroft, and Holmes himself. But then again, being left with questions was something about Holmes with which I had grown quite accustomed.