Some five hours later, Irene was climbing out of a taxi a couple of blocks away from the Majestic Theatre’s entrance. Dressed in a pair of slacks and sweater, comfortable coat and hood, and shod of warm boots, she walked down the side street and alleyway in search of the “stage door” or any loading dock that would give her discreet and unnoticed access to the inside of the building. Fortunately, there were lots of people around, all going about their business and unconcerned with Irene’s movements. When she found the loading dock in question, she went past it and continued down the alley until she found herself in a parallel street to Broadway. On the opposite corner she saw a coffee shop that seemed friendly enough from the outside, and decided it was high time to have a cup of tea and assess the situation from that vantage point – the coffee shop’s window affording her a clear view of the alley and the loading dock a ways down.
While she sipped on her tea and ate some pastries that tasted like sugary cardboard, Irene had plenty of time to notice the two men that walked the length of the alley at regular intervals. These two are watching the place, she concluded. She needed a diversion – something that would direct their attention somewhere else while she would make her way to the loading dock (or the stage door) and enter the theatre unnoticed. Once she decided on the best plan of action, Irene exited the coffee shop, crossed the busy street and planted herself at the corner of the alley. She only had to wait for a couple of minutes until the next lorry turned into the lane way. Knowing that her two observers were busy talking at the other end of the alley, she ran behind the lorry until it reached the loading dock, where Irene veered right and ducked behind a large crate she had noticed on her first walk through. She stooped down for a few minutes and waited for the next truck to come along to run to the sliding door and behind another crate next to it. She crouched behind the box for another ten minutes until she heard another lorry make its way down the alley. As soon as the truck’s nose was in line with her crate she lunged against the sliding door, opened it a crack and rolled under it. She didn’t have time to slide it down, and waited to catch her breath. She then slithered behind the adjacent wall. She hoped the surveillance agents hadn’t seen the opening at the bottom of the sliding door – one false move now and it would be all over for her and Sherlock.
Once inside the theatre proper, while noticing that some of the dimmer lights were still on, Irene made her way to the stage, and stood in the middle of it. “All right, Sherlock Holmes,” she said in a voice that would have been heard from the rafters, “I am here, and I want to talk to you!” Being used to the theatre stages of Europe, Irene knew Sherlock would have heard her even if he were hiding in the farthest recess of the basement.
When she heard no reply, she decided to sing Sherlock’s favourite aria, knowing that he would have no doubt as to whom she was. As she was singing the last few bars, she saw the door of the lodge nearest to the stage open and Sherlock take a seat.
She finished singing, bowed to his applause and lifted her head to him. “And now that I am here, would you be so kind to explain to me why you would want to confront Mr. Adnan on your own.”
Sherlock exploded in a roar of laughter. “Bravo! Bravo, my dear! You are “the woman” for whom I have but admiration. You have deduced correctly that the only way for me to stop this terrorist is to confront him – again, bravo, my dear!”
“I am sorry to disappoint you, Holmes, but you should give credit where credit is due. Mycroft and the FBI are the ones who deduced what you were intending to do.”
“If that is true, how is it that you are the one here, right now?”
“Why don’t you come down from your perch, Holmes, so that we could talk sensibly without using the top range of our vocal chords?”
“As you wish, milady, I will be down in a moment,” Sherlock replied, already out the lodge’s door.
Meeting Sherlock behind the stage-left curtains, Irene extended her right hand for him to kiss. As he did so and bowed slightly, she said, “You are an utter fool, Holmes!”
He raised his gaze and locked eyes with her. “Why would you say such a thing, milady?”
“Come and let’s find one of the actors’ dressing rooms to talk,” Irene replied. “This way… .” She preceded him down the steps behind the stage.
Soon she found a dressing room, walked in, turned on the glaring lights around the make-up table, looked around it and decided it was adequate for the privacy she wanted. After closing the door, they both sat down face to face on two rickety chairs standing about the room.
“All right, Holmes, just explain to me why you would want to confront a man the likes of this Adnan fellow alone, when you could have the whole of the FBI at your disposal to do the job for you?”
“Because, these idiots don’t have the faintest idea who they’re up against, and mind you, I don’t blame them; I have no proof of what I am advancing and they have found no evidence to support any of my claims. So, it is down to me to prove what I have been deducing since I arrived in August.”
“But, Holmes, don’t you see how foolish it is for you to stay here and lie in wait for someone who will not show up?”
“Why would you think that? Please tell me.”
“I don’t know if your journey through time has dulled your senses, but it is quite simple really.” Irene tittered.
Sherlock didn’t like to be mocked and it showed on his face. “Alright, I’ll allow you the amusement, but only because it’s you… .”
“Just listen to me and open your mind.” Sherlock nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “When no one saw you come out of this theatre last night, everyone concerned knew of your decision to confront this man, Adnan. At this very minute he’s probably observing the agents posted outside every door, such as I did before finding a way to come in here.”
“And if you were successful in avoiding scrutiny, he will, too – and that’s precisely what I wanted, my dear Miss Adler!”
At these words, the silence outside the dressing room was broken by the thunderous clapping of a set of hands. Not waiting to ascertain where the unexpected applause came from, Sherlock jumped off his chair, shot out of the room and hurried up the stairs and onto the stage. He came to a dead stop when he was suddenly blinded by the flood light in front of, and surrounding him. He put his arm across his brow to protect his eyes from the powerful glare.
Irene, realizing the clapping had come from the man they had been expecting, and suspecting what Adnan would probably do – such as focusing the white spot light onto Sherlock as soon as he showed on stage – she stayed out of sight behind the stage-left curtains.
“No need to hide, Madame, I know you’re in here,” Adnan said from his seat at the back of the floor seating. “And although I have not had the pleasure to make your acquaintance, I should thank you for showing me the easiest way to come in this theatre… , and for your interpretation of one of Verdi’s most famous arias.”
Irene stayed motionless and did not respond.
“Alright then, I’ll leave you in peace for now, but as for you, Mr. Holmes, you’ve been a thorn in my side since you arrived in the US in August.”
“Such as I hoped I would,” Sherlock retorted, while trying to walk away from under the light beam. He didn’t know that the light would follow him anywhere he went on stage – being electronically controlled at every step he took.
“Yes, I thought that’s why you stayed in this theatre last night.”
“Why don’t you show yourself, Mr. Adnan, so we could have a civilized conversation before you’re arrested and tried for your crimes.”
“And what crimes would those be, Mr. Holmes – those you invented based on information you gleaned through the internet? Do you really think that if I was to plant a bomb anywhere in New York, I would advertise my presence to all and sundry beforehand?”
“Yes, you would,” Sherlock shouted, “because you are a “two-step” thinker, Adnan – you always attempt to pre-empt the action
of your opponent by thinking the way he does, and then do the exact opposite.”
“Ah-ah, I see you must be a chess player, and believe me I respect anyone who is an adept of the game.” It sounded as if the man got up from his seat. “And it’s unfortunate that we don’t have enough time at the moment to sit down for a game, but I have other appointments this morning that will no longer keep. So if you’ll excuse me, I shall take my leave now.”
The light suddenly went out, plunging the theatre in complete darkness.
All the while this was happening, Irene had taken Mycroft’s phone out of the inside pocket of her coat, had dialled the minister’s number and had pressed the “send” button. Then placing the phone on the floor just under the curtains’ border, she had made her way to the back of the floor seating and had posted herself near the dimmer switch closest to the door. She had known what Adman had planned and as soon as the stage lights were turned off, she hit the switch.
She then ran down the centre aisle, rounded the orchestra section and climbed the few steps separating the audience floor from the stage.
“Did you see his face?” were Holmes’s first words to her.
“Only a glimpse, Holmes,” she replied, going to retrieve Mycroft’s phone from under the curtains. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to recognize him if I ever saw him again, though,” she added, putting the phone to her ear. “Did you hear that?” she asked Mycroft who had been listening to the whole exchange between Holmes and Adnan.
Holmes was staring at her. She seemed to have had a far better and more immediate grasp of the situation than he had had.
“All right… yes… I will expect your call then,” she said before closing the phone and replacing it inside her pocket.
She lifted her gaze to Holmes. “Mycroft heard everything and he’ll be at the Hilton Hotel tonight. He’s expecting us for dinner.”
Baffled beyond words, Holmes looked at the diva standing before him.
She smiled and then said, “You need to open your eyes to what’s happening around you, Holmes. You might be the greatest detective that ever walked this Earth, but you are not giving the modern man his dues. If technology has evolved at such an incredible pace over the past 120 years, it’s only thanks to men and women’s evolving brains. You’re no longer talking to ignoramuses, Holmes, the people of this age can now match if not surpass your brain powers instantly.”
“A depressing thought indeed,” Sherlock said quietly.
“No, Holmes, not depressing at all. I would rather think it be challenging for a man the likes of you. You have now equal opponents and thousands of people who could be at your disposal to develop your intellect or make it accessible to all that would come after you.”
Chapter Two
An unexpected hand in
marriage
Knowing that Adnan would probably never be back at the Majestic, Sherlock and Irene exited the theatre only to be grabbed by two FBI agents that had been waiting for them by the front entrance. Not appreciating being manhandled in such a fashion, Irene dislodged her arm from the man’s grip and promptly slapped him across the face.
“Hey, lady, what did you do that for?” the agent yelled, while putting a hand to his cheek.
“If you were not so rude as to grab my arm for no reason whatsoever, sir, I would not have slapped you,” Irene replied under Holmes’s amused gaze. “I’m not some sort of criminal – and if you wish to talk to me then the least you could do is introduce yourself before you put your paws on me!”
Meanwhile, the other agent, who had stopped beside Holmes, was now observing the exchange with astonished hilarity. “Come on, Spanker,” he cut in, “we’ve got no time to waste on the woman”—he turned to Irene—“Sorry, ma’am, but my partner is a bit rough around the edges when it comes to meeting ladies…”
“I’ll say he is!” Irene retorted. “Why don’t you keep him on a leash and put a muzzle on him before he bites someone?”
To that, Holmes erupted in laughter. Obviously, Irene’s Bohemian blood was steaming to a boil and these men had no idea who they were dealing with. “Gentlemen, if I may,” Holmes said, still chuckling, “why don’t we go in the lobby or somewhere more comfortable than the middle of the footpath to discuss what ever you have in mind?”
“Okay, Mr. Holmes, have it your way… ,” the agent who seemed to be in charge replied, pushing the entrance door open and letting Irene through. “I’m Special Agent Lancaster,” he added, taking a seat beside his partner. “And this is Special Agent Spanker.” He turned his head to him. Holmes and Irene took a seat on the sofa, facing the two agents. “We’ve been asked to advise you, Mr. Holmes, to leave New York as soon as possible and…”
“And why would that be?” Holmes asked.
“Because, as I’m sure you’ve gathered by now, our suspect is well aware of your meddling in his business and you’ve become a liability – along with your lady here.”
“This ‘lady here’,” Irene interjected, “has a name and would very much like to be addressed with it, if you wouldn’t mind, Agent Lancaster.”
“Well… , yes, of course, ma’am, and what would that name be?”
“This is Miss Irene Adler,” Holmes put in.
“And what were you doing in these premises, Miss Adler?” Spanker asked. He was dying to know what this elegant-looking woman was doing at the Majestic at that hour and how she went in the theatre without any of his colleagues being the wiser.
“I don’t know that it would be any of your business, Agent Spanker, but I will satisfy your curiosity: I was looking for something I had misplaced during the Preview a couple of nights ago…”
“And how did you get in here? Every door has been under surveillance since early this morning – I don’t see how you could have passed unnoticed.”
“I guess your colleagues were not at their posts when I entered the loading dock…”
“Why did you go through there and not the main entrance?” Spanker asked, more than annoyed now.
Irene was about to answer, when Holmes interrupted this impromptu interrogation saying, “Let me… , Miss Adler… .” Irene nodded. “Miss Adler is a friend of mine, Agent Spanker. She came to my rescue, as it were, when she learned that I was attempting to spend the night in company of our fugitive, Mr. Adnan, in this theatre.” Holmes looked at Spanker and Lancaster in turn. “Will that satisfy either of your misplaced curiosity, gentlemen?”
“I supposed it will have to do for now,” Spanker replied, looking more dissatisfied than ever.
“Thank you, Mr. Holmes.” Lancaster paused and shot a disapproving glance at his partner. “Well then… , as I was saying, you and Miss Adler here are in danger. Our man, Adnan, knows that you’ve been meddling in his affairs and although we doubt very much that he’d be staying around to plant any bomb anywhere on Broadway anytime soon, Agent Denver of our office in Washington would prefer if you didn’t stick around New York for now.”
“I can certainly understand his concern,” Holmes said, “but I wouldn’t be too sure that the man has left the city for good. In fact, I would suggest that he’s counting on you and every other agent on the case being gone by tonight…”
“That may be so, Mr. Holmes,” Spanker piped-up, “but we need to appear to have left the premises for him to feel free to act again.”
“You are planning to leave some agents to survey the place then?” Irene asked.
“Yes, ma’am, that’s the plan,” Lancaster said. “How much good will that do, we’re not sure, but it’s better to cover all angles, wouldn’t you say?”
“Alright then,” Holmes said, getting to his feet, “we’ll be on our way back to Washington tonight as you wish.”
“But, Mr. Holmes… ,” Lancaster hesitated, “we’ve been ordered to accompany you to the train station and see you safely on board the Acela Express…”
“NO!” Irene exclaimed, rising from her seat, “we’re not going anywhere under escort, Agent Lanc
aster. If you want to be discreet about this – to save us from Mr. Adnan’s possible reprisal as you described – I suggest you don’t make a show of where we’re heading tonight. Letting Mr. Holmes and I decide the best course of action from now on, would be better for all concerned.”
“Okay, yes, I can see your point – let me call Agent Denver to let him know… ,” Lancaster concluded, taking his cell phone out of his pocket.
An hour later, Holmes and Irene were checking in at the Hilton Hotel. They needed to wait for Mycroft’s arrival later that afternoon and then make their way back to Washington the next day. Since neither of them had brought a change of clothes and since Irene had noticed that Holmes was in desperate need of a coat – the weather in late November on the Eastern Border was far from pleasant – she decided to take him shopping a few blocks away from the hotel. Apparently reluctant, Holmes nevertheless agreed that he wouldn’t last too long outside in the current weather conditions. He already regretted having left his coat and cap in the cab that morning. For the next two hours, Irene led him through a couple of men’s wear stores and bought a few items for herself along the way.
While resting for the afternoon, Irene decided she had better take stock of the situation. Since her arrival, she had been involved in a whirlwind of circumstances that brought her very much closer to Holmes and his tireless desire to chase the criminal elements everywhere he went. She also noticed that he had not allowed himself a day’s rest since he arrived and had put himself in harm’s way because of his lack of knowledge or understanding that this century was much more evolved than anyone could have foreseen. Holmes was acting – mostly reacting – as if he were still living in the 19th century and that, Irene concluded, could ultimately cost him his life.
As soon as Mycroft landed, he called Irene from the taxi to let her know that he was on his way to the hotel and to ask her how her investigation of the Majestic stint had gone.
“To tell you the truth, Mycroft, I don’t think Sherlock is going to survive too long if he continues to chase criminals and terrorists the way he’s going about it at the moment.”
Sherlock Holmes in 2012: LORD OF DARKNESS RISING Page 3