Winfred, going on in her letter shared how her afternoon at the event had unfolded and that due to her fame in Gravesend she had been stopped several times throughout her visit to briefly visit with her admirers and to autograph a copy of her latest mystery story.
Which was a novel had just been published and conveniently happened to make the trip along with its owner to the fete. Except for brief periods of recognition for most of the day Winifred was able to enjoy the outdoor event in relative anonymity.
However, there were two individuals unknown to Winifred she was to briefly encounter. Both of whom had been (again anonymously) instructed to board the train from London to Gravesend to retrieve a list that the mystery writer should never have come into possession of. Ashley Laurinda Taggart and Andrew Foster Perry both appearing very much as brother and sister sat together in silence on the train each going over the task they had been set upon their arrival.
“Andrew, you and Ashley are to travel to Gravesend by rail together then make your way from the train station to the Gordon Memorial Gardens. You are both to seek out a women (here the instructions gave a fairly accurate description of Winfred) once you have located her, you Andrew, are to engage her in order to act as a distraction while Ashley reaches (unobtrusively) into her hand bag and removes the Survivors list. Ashley, while Andrew is asking a question to distract the owner of the hand bag you will employ your expert skills and remove the list that does not belong to her from her hand bag and forward it on as per previous instructions.”
Winifred in her letter continues...”it was about 4:00 p.m. and I was making my way to exit of the memorial grounds when I saw a young gentle man and a young lady (who could have been taken for brother and sister) approach me with some obvious purpose. As you know Mary, I am not taken to giving into premonitions but as the distance between us lessened I suddenly wanted to draw the strings of my hand bag a little tighter.”
“Not wishing to appear aloof when the young gentle man caught my attention by asking if I was the mystery writer I continued to let them approach. When they were within a handshakes distance I took my gaze off the gentleman and looked at the young lady, in that simple act it felt as if an icicle had been run up and down my spine.”
“I can’t recall much of what passed during the brief conversation between the three of us but it did seem rather banal, pointless and obviously distracting. While I was trying to think of an appropriate reply to a bland question suddenly and most unexpectedly the young lady seemed to temporarily lose her balance and I found myself catching her and helping her to regain her footing. The oddest part of this was that she gazed into my eyes when she was sure of her ground then almost looking like the cat that had caught the canary she innocently and sweetly said to me “pardon me miss.”
When we parted company and left in our separate directions I put both of them plus the whole trivial matter out of my mind. Upon returning home I placed my hand bag on the table and opened it to remove and put away the food items (some preserves, jams and jellies) I had purchased that day. To my considerable shock I found that while all of the contents of my hand bag were intact the extra hand bills advertising the fete I had forgotten about had been removed.
Chapter 11
The Doncaster railway station did not experience a flurry of travellers during the off peak hours from 11:00 a.m. until 3:00 p.m. in terms of the multitude of passengers arriving to purchase train tickets and check luggage before boarding an out bound train or the equal number of passengers disembarking from an arriving train then making their collective way through the station, with luggage in hand out into the city streets.
The sound of a large wall mounted ticking clock and the gentle rustling of news papers were a part of the background as an unknown, tall, formally attired man wearing a top hat entered the foyer, just after 11:00 a.m. He was witnessed making his way to the ticket wicket with some interest by the few news readers in attendance who had momentarily looked over the tops of their broadsheets. After he crossed the distance and arrived in front of the ticket booth and requested in a low, and almost imperceptible voice to the ticket agent “a one way ticket to London please.”
The seated uniformed rail road employee deeply engrossed with counting ticket stubs while comparing the results to a ledger on his right did not immediately hear the request. The request was repeated again this time with the presentation of a large bank note and in a voice that caught every one in the stations attention.
Startled from his task the employee looked up and witnessed a person and a face not seen for a very long time, and then, only in the pages of the Times in relationship to some great crime that had been solved. Taking the money offered and producing the requested railway ticket and change the agent apologetically replied in the way of a question “Mr. Holmes...Mr. Sherlock Holmes?”
While on board the Great Northern train speeding its way down the tracks to London and anonymously sharing a compartment with other passengers a still somewhat fragile Sherlock, was very much in his own world, while trying to adjust from the solitary world he had known only a short time ago to the one he was about to face.
He found himself wondering about the state of his brother still possibly recovering in hospital. He reflected on the letter that had been sent to him and its contents. His second thought did for a brief moment, cast his mind back to the last time he had made this same journey (possibly on the same train) and the close friend who had accompanied him on the journey from Doncaster to London. Going over his reply to me in his mind, Sherlock was beginning to revive long dormant skills and abilities, as well as, setting out a course of action.
Dear Mary:
Let me begin by admitting that I was shocked about the news concerning Mycroft. While I am sure that in his field he has attracted more than his share of detractors and maybe some genuine enemies, I would not think that any of the decisions he has made or acts of legislation he may have brought about, would be any cause for an unknown assassin to make an attempt on my brother’s life.
As to your letter:
Yes, too much time has passed between us, but in my present occupation time passes much differently and it seems like only yesterday since I saw your last letter in the post. There is much I want to say and share with you, but in order for this note to arrive in time I will be as brief as possible. When I arrive in Gravesend after my time in London we shall as the colloquial term is used these days “catch up.”
As to your first request, having left my bees in good hands I intend to make my way to London and visit Mycroft; although the visit will be short as you say. I am sure that he will welcome the company. I will share your letter with him relying on his vast memory for relevant data. It may be possible he already has some knowledge of this Survivors list and can cast more light on the person or persons responsible.
This list you have mentioned certainly bears some consideration and once I have consulted with my brother I intend to give it my full focus and attention to decipher its full meaning and intent. Be assured I will share all that I have learned from Mycroft with both you and Miss Jeffery upon my arrival.
For my piece of mind, and no doubt also for my brother’s piece of mind I must ask as to the number of people who at the present time have knowledge that Miss Jeffrey has temporary ownership of this list. In conclusion I would ask that you and Miss Jeffery keep this affair to yourselves and not share what has happened to date.
As to your second kind request, I will come to you primarily as a very long lost friend who wishes to rebuild a dear and valuable friendship and is very much in need of a change of scenery. I look forward to seeing you again Mary when my train arrives at Gravesend. Despite my personal opinion of mystery writers in general, because Miss Jeffery is a close friend of yours it will be my pleasure to meet her. As always you are a most considerate friend.
Yours
Sherlock
&nb
sp; Chapter 12
“My name is Sherlock Holmes and I am here to see my brother Mycroft Holmes...could you direct me to the correct floor and room?” stated the tall impeccably dressed visitor in an assured voice to the main desk attendant. The attendant surmising that he was dealing with some one important silently examined in large patient log book in front of him his right fore finger tracing fast down the page until he reached the “H’s” as the speed of the digit slowed the attendant started to quietly recite the names in front of him in alphabetical order “Hacker Hadley Halden - Hernshaw Hewer Higgins - Hollenbeck Holmen ah here we are sir Holmes Mycroft.”
Following the directions given Sherlock made his way quickly up the broad marble stone stairs to the second floor while passing other people and staff that were busily ascending and descending either side of him. Arriving on the second floor he proceeded down the wide well lit corridor smelling of hospital disinfectant and of the just served breakfast while scanning to his left and right until he found the room where Mycroft was recovering.
As he stood in the entrance to his brother’s ward he noticed in front of him that the large pale green painted room contained six regulation hospital beds, three to his left and three to his right. Five were made up and unoccupied except for the sixth bed on the right nearest the large window.
There situated was his brother with his left arm bound in a sling seated in bed surrounded by a large collection of papers and folders some bound in red ribbon others stamped in red with the words top secret.
Sherlock watched his brother attend to what he assumed was his government task for a few minutes, and then gently cleared his throat to attract Mycroft’s attention. A bit startled Mycroft looked up from the surrounding documents and in the direction of the sound then saw his brother standing in the entrance. “Sherlock, what an unexpected surprise, how did you know I was here and what ever took you away from your bees?”
“To answer both questions I received a letter from Mary Watson who has urged me to first come to London to visit with you then continue on to Gravesend to assist her and a friend with a matter that to them is of some urgency.” As Sherlock made his way towards his brothers bed Mycroft could see his brothers concern.
In a some what mock gruff voice he assured him “My injury is not as serious as it appears however the attending surgeon has informed me that if the targeting sites on the assassins weapon had been a bit more accurate and if the discharged projectile had pierced an aorta (as it was obviously intended to do) we would not be having this particular conversation. Instead you would now be present in the basement of the hospital where the morgue is no doubt located to identify a cold body lying on the examination table as that of your brother.”
“The oddest thing about this assault”...as Mycroft continued while raising the wounded limb slightly...”was the there was no sound of a fire arm being discharged...one minute I was raising my arm to hail a passing motor taxi...the next thing I knew I had been struck and I was lying on my back in the middle of the street with a searing pain in my left shoulder and according to the witnesses leaving the Diogenes club presumed as dead.”
Mycroft switched thoughts and continued...”But I know how your mind works and you did not travel all this distance merely to look into the state of my well being...that you could easily find out about through any of your usual sources. There is something in Mrs. Watson’s letter you wish to inquire about.” Acknowledging his brothers deduction Sherlock took my letter from an inside pocket...unfolded it and handed it to Mycroft. The brother first casually scanned the letter to find anything that might have been of any immediate significance to him or to his field of interest.
He put the letter down...closed his eyes...massaged the bridge of his nose for a few seconds then picked it up and reread my correspondence to Sherlock giving more attention to the contents. When Mycroft had read and mentally digested the words on the page...he folded the letter and gave it back to Sherlock. Saying as much to himself as to his brother “It is true then ...they want to erase all of the evidence of their foolish action at any cost.
Looking directly at Sherlock he asked with some concern “Besides you and Mrs. Watson how many other people know about the facts I have just read? “Sherlock answered “There is a Miss Jeffrey who originally found the list and brought it to Mary’s and my attention.”
“Where did she locate it?” was Mycroft’s return. “In the sacristy of the St. Peter and St. Paul church just after the churches demolition” Sherlock answered. “No doubt this place of worship was one of the locations on the list” commented Mycroft as he started to neaten the haphazard collection of papers and files in front of him. Finishing his task Mycroft turned and asked “When are you leaving for Gravesend?” “Tomorrow morning...I’m taking the 10:00 a.m. train from St. Pancreas station.”
“If memory serves me correct Sherlock I believe that the North Kent Line has a train leaving for Gravesend at 8:00 p.m. I suggest you return to your hotel...check out...attend to what ever business you have here in London then make all possible effort to be aboard the Gravesend train when it leaves the station tonight. From what I have just finished reading and what I already know of this matter I believe that Miss Jeffery is in great danger for having discovered the list in the first place. Mrs. Watson may also be in some danger for perhaps only knowing of the existence of the list. Let us hope that she has not unfortunately seen it much less read the contents.
As he was preparing to leave his brothers side...out of genuine concern for my and Winifred’s well being Sherlock stopped turned and asked what the great danger was. Realizing that he would have to eventually share this information...Mycroft pointed to the chair at the end of his bed. When Sherlock had brought the chair to the bedside and had seated himself Mycroft ominously started
“The information I am about to reveal to you is known only to the Prime minister, a few select senior ministers in the government and to myself and must there for be kept in the strictest of confidence.“ When the weight of this opening statement had sunk in he began with a question to the consulting detective...”What do you believe was the reason that the United States of America entered the war as late as it did and what do you know about the events that lead to sinking of the Lusitania ?”
Chapter 13
It was a cold drizzly, grey overcast day and just before noon as my train made its way into the busy Gravesend train station...as Winifred had stated in her letter she was standing on the platform with others waiting for my arrival. While the train was gradually slowing down to a complete stop...I looked to my left out through the carriage window and noticed that her confident appearance and impeccable wardrobe was as I had come to remember...however the look on her face told me that this was for public appearance only.
As I was being helped down the last step of the carriage and onto the station platform by the conductor I saw at some distance Winifred making her way towards me through the others moving on the platform. “Mary” I heard her say as she folded me in warm friendly embrace...while I reciprocated the embrace...she continued “I’m so glad you have finally come ... then she moved slightly back to look into my face and queried “but Mr. Holmes didn’t travel with you?”
Hearing the panic starting to register in her voice and on her face I assured her that everything would be sorted out when Sherlock arrived and that he would be joining us as soon as he could. When I felt that some of the panic had left her...and to distract her further worry I made her turn and both of us started walking together towards the baggage car near the front of the train to retrieve my luggage
Later that day after I had comfortably settled into Winifred’s small but inviting guest room and we were now enjoying each others company in her cozy parlour to eat an early supper I shared with her what I had learned about Mycroft, the list and the steps I knew that Sherlock would had taken to date.
Setting my tea cup down on i
ts matching saucer I started with “Sherlock has no doubt spoken to his brother in hospital by this time”...Winifred looked puzzled then asked “did his brother suffer some sort of accident?”...”no” I answered realizing what I said next could cause Winfred to panic but I continued...” his misfortune is linked to the Survivors list. You do remember seeing his name? ...that was one of the reasons why you wrote to me.”
“But” I interjected before Winifred could start...”I have heard that Mycroft Holmes holds an important position in the government and has access to privileged information. No doubt when Sherlock joins us later with what he has learned ...between the three us of we may be able at the very least get to why the church was damaged and what that young lady you met the spring fete was seeking and why so oddly had only removed the hand bills and nothing more from your hand bag.”
Chapter 14
Once again a young street urchin arrived on Margate Road in the late afternoon. He knocked again with confidence on the front door of the Prescott’s family lodgings. After the door had been opened and making sure again it was “the badger” who answered held out another unaddressed envelop and stated “another message for you sir.”
It had been a relatively good week and much progress had been made in the building renovations of Saint Peter and Saint Paul for Charles Slade and the other workers with the exception of minor interruptions in the delivery of essential construction supplies. In addition to the deliveries, a tall and lean slight statured young man and a beautiful but obviously dangerous young lady had stopped by the site far too often for his liking.
“Holding up the works” Charles thought to himself. Always enquiring as to whether he or of the other workers had seen a large manila envelope anywhere in the church. Charles, not having any knowledge of Winfred’s last minute actions during the initial damage assessment that had taken place just after the explosion always answered “no I haven’t seen anything like it.”
Sherlock Holmes and the Mystery Writer Page 4