The Scottish Ploy

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

  “And they shall have one, but not tonight,” said Holmes. “Can you make us some sandwiches and soup? We will need something to keep us going through the night, but I don’t want to stop work for a proper meal.”

  “Of course, sir,” said Tyers, and prepared to withdraw.

  “Oh, and Tyers?” Holmes stopped him.

  “Yes, sir?” Tyers paused in the doorway, ready for instructions.

  “If you will send word to the Admiralty that I have contracted a febrile cold and am laid up in my bed, I would appreciate it. Also inform the club that I may be missing for a day or two, for the same reason.” Holmes had opened the notes and held them up to the lamplight.

  “Very good, sir. I shall attend to the latter this evening, and the former first thing in the morning.” He left the three of us alone together.

  “Chief Inspector Alexander says he has not found any record of Mister Kerem’s departure, but that a Greek man, Hilarios Kosmos, left for Cyprus on Monday.” He nodded. “H and K. It is likely that this is Halil Kerem, or that we are meant to think it is. Alexander says that the man traveled with a number of large crates, two of which were found to contain upright pianos.” He put the note down, musing, “I suppose there are less elegant coffins than a piano-case.”

  “Do you think he had the body with him?” I asked.

  “I think it is what we are intended to believe. But if this Greek is our Turk, and if he concealed a body in a piano-case to take it with him, it must mean that it was gone from the morgue far longer than we reckoned. Not that it is impossible, though it is improbable,” he added as he looked over the second note. “Inspector Featherstone is worried,” he said at last. “I think he has extended himself too far.” He did not explain this any further; he put the note in his jacket pocket and pointed to Miss Gatspy. “You are, perforce, part of our efforts. I trust you will not put yourself in jeopardy because of it.”

  “If you mean my superiors at the Golden Lodge might object, they have said I am to aid you in any way I can, at least until the matter of Vickers and Braaten is resolved.” She smiled winningly at him. “So, for the time being, I am yours to command—on their behalf.”

  “I must remember to thank them, in future,” said Holmes drily. “Guthrie, go into the study and fetch the memoranda and other papers you sorted for me. We have a great deal of reading to do.”

  I hastened to obey, moving as quickly as I could. I noticed a light was on in Mycroft Holmes’ bedroom, and I realized that Tyers had begun to shore up the fiction of Holmes’ illness. In the study I found the papers in question, gathered them up, along with a number of pencils from the French secretary, then hurried back to the library, trying to prepare myself for a long night.

  Holmes had moved two end-tables together in front of the fire, and he motioned to me to put down all that I carried on this surface. “You’ve done an excellent job so far. I think we must look for anything having to do with the incidents of the last five days. Guthrie has already winnowed out those bits of information that have no bearing on ... our developments.” He cleared his throat as he sat down. “I am almost certain that Vickers and Braaten are in England, and may have been for more than a week. I know we have intelligence to the contrary, but I am beginning to think that this is another example of misdirection. This whole venture is a triumph of sleight-of-hand.” He made a pass with his hands as if to perform a magic trick.

  “Including the abduction,” I said. “To make it appear that nothing actually happened.”

  “Yes, Guthrie. You’re right,” said Holmes. “The device of drawing the attention to a minor collision was most effective. One of the vehicles might have been used to carry Sutton off. We won’t know that until we find him.” His voice tightened again. “All the more reason to act swiftly.”

  Miss Gatspy nodded her agreement. “I believe you are right about Vickers and Braaten. They were at pains to make it appear they were trying to get to England, and that kept all of us from looking to see if they were already arrived.”

  “I haven’t been caught napping like that for many years,” Mycroft Holmes said, embarrassed by this admission. “How very lacking in me.”

  “Had you not been kept busy with other matters, no doubt you should have discovered it sooner,” I reminded him. “These last few days have been much occupied, as you have, yourself, remarked. You have been caught up in so many pressing incidents that you haven’t had the opportunity to review the whole.” I patted the papers before me. “Now that you are supposedly missing, you have that opportunity. It is the one signal failure the Brotherhood have made.”

  “So long as they do not find it is a failure,” said Holmes warily. “And being preoccupied is no excuse.”

  “Then we must be sure they don’t learn of their blunder. We will not allow anyone to speak with you or to see you. This will persuade the Brotherhood that you are missing, and will convince others that you are truly ill,” said Miss Gatspy, reaching out to the stacks of notes. “For now, I will take these—having to do with the Baron and Herr Kriede. That leaves the attempts on Sir Cameron’s life and his presence in London for Guthrie, and all the rest for you: the courier, the police, the disappearing body, and anything else.” She was so wonderfully determined that I felt compelled to follow her example.

  I gathered up the stack of papers. “I should think that it would be best to stop at one-hour intervals for the purpose of reviewing what has been found thus far. Unless we discover a crucial point, and then we should discuss it immediately.”

  “Yes. That will enable us to compare what we may discover before we lose sight of it again,” said Miss Gatspy. “You may hold all such details in your mind, Mister Holmes; I doubt Guthrie and I are as accomplished. And this way we will know what all of us have learned. It may trigger off a thought or two when we share our gleanings.”

  “I agree,” said Holmes with much more humility than I would have expected. He rose and went to the door. “Tyers. Make that tea very strong.”

  “That I will, sir. And I will stand by to do whatever you may require,” came his answer.

  “The club?” Holmes asked.

  “When I have brought you tea and sandwiches, I will cross the road. There is still a fair amount of time to deliver the news that you are ill.” Tyers kept his voice low enough to be heard only in this flat, in case anyone might be listening outside.

  “Very good. I suppose I should withdraw to my bedchamber some time tonight,” he said to us. “It would be prudent.”

  “But it isn’t necessary yet,” I said. “The only persons who might want to call would be those associated with the kidnapping, to see what we are doing to account for your absence.”

  “I take your point, Guthrie. Arriving too soon after the incident would only create suspicion.” Holmes sat forward. “What if a ransom is demanded?”

  “What if one isn’t?” Miss Gatspy countered. “Deal with that when it happens,” she recommended, and turned her full attention to the material in her hand. “You have an elegant fist, Guthrie,” she added. “It will make my reading easier.”

  “Most kind,” I said, feeling heat in my face.

  “And mine is abominable,” Holmes said, making my discomfiture complete. I was glad to begin to read, looking for anything that might reveal useful tidbits of information.

  Tyers came with a tray of tea and sandwiches, and the promise of soup in an hour, then he left to cross the street to the club, returning some ten minutes later with a note from one of the senior members offering to send his physician to consult on Holmes’ case. “I told him if you were not improved in a day or two, you might agree to it.”

  “Sensible as always,” Mycroft Holmes said, looking up from the pages he perused. “Thank you, Tyers.”

  “I should add, I think, that Sir Marmion Hazeltine was there, and sent his hopes for a quick
recovery,” Tyers remarked. “He was with Marlborough.”

  “Um,” Holmes said, to indicate he was listening. As soon as Tyers went away to the kitchen to work on his soup, he said, “Something more has occurred to me: I think we should make pages where we enter the events since Thursday evening, the time when they happened, and who participated. That way, we may discover a pattern.”

  “I’ll set up a chart,” I said, and went to fetch large sheets of graph paper from the study. When I returned, I spent ten minutes or so preparing the pages. “There,” I told them when I was finished.

  “Yes. Very good, Guthrie,” said Mycroft Holmes. “If you, Miss Gatspy, would be willing to make note of who among your guards was on duty, and at what position, during these times, it would be helpful.”

  “I doubt the Golden Lodge would object to that,” she said, and took the Thursday sheet and began writing down the watch-schedule and the names of those who kept it.

  “When it’s finished, I’ll tack it to the bookshelves, so we may refer to it while we read,” I volunteered.

  “Do that. And when this is all over, we must burn the pages. They will have too much information on them that could be used by our enemies.” Mycroft Holmes took his pencil and began to write on the Friday sheet. I did the same with Saturday. By eleven the chart was complete and we were back at our reading.

  FROM THE PERSONAL JOURNAL OF PHILIP TYERS

  They are still at work, and it is after midnight. I will shortly take soup into the library, to help them labor on.

  Hastings has brought G’s valise, and a note from his landlady asking that he inform her when he plans to return to his rooms. Hastings has agreed to be here at half-eight tomorrow and to remain at our service for as long as he is needed.

  I have made up MH’s bedroom to make it seem it is occupied, but not so occupied that the Brotherhood will not suppose that this is a clever deception on our part. In the morning, I will send for Watson, just to make it appear that the illness is being treated by a medical man.

  I shall bring up another load of logs for the fires, and when I do, I will strive to look about me, to see if there is undue attention being paid to this flat. It is of the utmost importance that we maintain their conviction that they have MH for as long as possible, for if they realize their error, Sutton’s life will not be worth a groat.

  To that end, I will carry a note to CI Alexander about ships sailing from seven-forty on last night, and what might sail today. I fear the Brotherhood will want to spirit MH—that is Sutton—out of the country as quickly as may be. I must also carry a note to I Strange, so that we may be more alert to the reliable men among the police ...

  The rain has lessened, but it has not yet stopped, nor do I expect it to do so before the end of the week.

  BY FOUR in the morning, we had reached a point of exhaustion where our thinking was sluggish, and no amount of tea would change it for the sharper. I had caught myself yawning several times, as had Miss Gatspy. Even Mycroft Holmes, for all his energy and tenacity, was feeling the effects of our demanding studies. It was he who rose and said, “If we rest until eight, we should be able to come back to our work with keener eyes.”

  “I will keep on longer, if you want,” I said, and felt my bones protest.

  “What I want, Guthrie, is a sharp pair of eyes and a fully alert mind. At the moment, I have neither from you, or from Miss Gatspy. Or myself, for that matter.” This final concession was a telling one. “Guthrie, you take the settee in the sitting room, and Miss Gatspy may have the day-bed in the withdrawing room. I will remain here, on the couch.”

  I looked at him, somewhat startled. “Your room is more than ready, sir.”

  “All the more reason for me not to go there, as I am missing,” he said. “No, I shall remain here, with the shutters closed. That way I will be as invisible as I can be.” He paused a moment. “I must make some provision with Tyers to serve for what looks like two, not three. I’ll let him sort it out.” He stretched. “Well, go on, you two. Morning is coming.”

  I was more glad of this opportunity than I cared to admit. “Would you like me up at seven?”

  “Yes, but I prefer you rested enough to work for the whole day and well into the evening,” said Mycroft Holmes. “So I will encourage you to sleep well; perhaps you will find something we have missed thus far while you sleep.”

  Miss Gatspy managed to look fairly fresh as she rose. “I think this is a wise plan. I know I will not be much good to you without rest.” She put her hand to her head. “I can’t hold two thoughts together for more than a heartbeat.”

  “Then off you go, Miss Gatspy. Tyers will call you at eight,” said Holmes with as much gallantry as I have ever known him to display. “You, too, Guthrie. Yvgeny Tschersky told me a Russian proverb: Morning is wiser than evening. Let us hope it may be so.” He wandered over to the leather couch and dropped down upon it.

  I noticed he was a foot taller than the couch was long. “Would you prefer the settee in the sitting room, sir?” I suggested. “I can’t imagine you’ll be comfortable on that.”

  “I probably won’t be, but I’ll be safe,” said he. “You should be in the sitting room, for any watchers will make it a point to know that you are here. If they see you have slept on the settee, it will further persuade them that you are making every effort to keep the illusion of my presence.” He waved me away. “I’ll draw one of the chairs up to the couch, and contrive something. I have slept on far worse.”

  “No doubt,” I said, and made for the door. Miss Gatspy was there ahead of me, and I held it for her. “I am sorry you have been put into such an awkward situation.”

  “How is it awkward? You mean the lack of chaperone?” She shrugged. “Tyers is here. And if my superiors are not bothered by our sleeping under the same roof—but hardly more than that—why should I feel it is inappropriate?”

  I did not know how to answer her. “If you prefer, I can make—”

  “If you are proposing to absent yourself from this flat for the sake of my reputation, I thank you, but I see no necessity.” She shook her head. “I am not here on a lark, Guthrie, nor are you. You may want to keep that uppermost in your mind.”

  I felt her rebuke most stringently. “You are right, of course. But I cannot help but be concerned on your behalf.”

  “I know,” she said. “And it is most ... most dear of you. But there are more immediate demands on us both than the dictates of good society.” She had reached the withdrawing room door, which she slid open. “Sleep well, Guthrie, and quickly.” With that, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

  I turned and went to the sitting room, just opposite the withdrawing room, where I found Tyers had left a duvet across the settee. I took off my boots, my coat, my collar, cuffs and tie, and stretched out, making the duvet into a cocoon. I doubted I would be able to fall asleep any time soon, so active was my mind; I anticipated tossing and turning from now until dawn. And then Tyers shook me awake, a fresh cup of tea in his hand. The room was filled with milky light of a rainy morning; Tyers built up the fire a little. “Thank you,” I said, scratching my hair and increasing its disarray.

  “There is a razor set out for you in the bathroom, and I have taken the liberty of supplying you with clean collar and cuffs.”

  “Very good of you, Tyers.” I sat up. “Did you sleep?”

  “Yes, and sooner than you did. I took a nap from one until three, and slept from just after four until half-six.” He paused in the doorway. “You may want to go along to the bathroom now. I am about to wake Miss Gatspy.”

  “Oh, yes,” I said, taking the cup-and-saucer with me. “I shan’t be long. Do tell her I will not remain in the bathroom over-long.”

  Tyers nodded, faint amusement in his eyes. “I am going to send a note round to the Admiralty as soon as Hastings arrives, informin
g them of Mister Holmes’ illness; breakfast will be served before I leave,” he said as I went by him and down the hall.

  I nodded my endorsement of this plan, then hurried along to shave and tend to other demands of nature as quickly as possible. I was determined to be ready to work in twenty minutes, and not to keep Miss Gatspy waiting. As soon as I was through, I went into the library and found Mycroft Holmes already up and in a change of clothes. I greeted him at once, saying, “I haven’t any new insights to offer, that I am aware of, at least.”

  “Hardly surprising. I would like to think you would subject all such revelations to intellectual scrutiny before presenting them. If they are nothing more than impressions, we will waste valuable time trying to shape them to our needs.” Mycroft Holmes was more brusque than usual, but I took no umbrage.

  “I agree, and I hope that this morning we’ll be able to review all we put forth last night.” I had more faith in such reconsideration than I did in inspiration, in any case.

  “Exactly my plan,” said Holmes. “I have been looking over our time-charts, by the way, and I keep thinking I am missing something, something obvious.” He went and stared at the Saturday page. “We have certainly been busy.”

  “That we have,” I said. “And the end is not in sight.” I was about to sit down when I heard the sound of the doorbell being wound.

  Mycroft Holmes turned to me urgently. “Out. Go out. Use the study. You know what to say: I am ill and cannot be disturbed.” He all but thrust me from the room.

  I went at once to the study and sat down at the table where I usually work of a morning, and waited for Tyers to bring the new arrival to see me. I hoped that Miss Gatspy would remain out of sight, for her presence would be hard to explain. I was beginning to fret when the door opened and Chief Inspector Pryce came in, very dapper for a policeman, and frowning. “Good morning, Chief Inspector,” I said, rising to meet him.