by J. R. Trtek
“I beg pardon?”
“You have blown away the fog, old fellow, as only you can. Find our coats and hats while I ring up Mycroft,” Holmes declared in an electric voice. “We meet with him and Bullivant presently!”
* * *
254 “Oxo” is a brand name and in this instance refers to broth made from what Americans call a bouillon cube.
255 This may be a fictionalized reference to the Shadwell Fish Market, whose location was in the area of the present-day King Edward VII Memorial Park, a site matching the rough description of the mooring point in Watson’s narrative. At that time, the area was informally used for sporting matches and as a playground for children. Plans for the park had already been made before the war, but they were not realized until 1922.
256 A cable length is equal to one-tenth of a nautical mile. That Watson would employ such terminology is perhaps yet another piece of evidence suggesting he had an intimate connection with the sea.
257 German aerial attacks by this time were staged at night, which gave greater cover for incoming bombers and reduced their losses, and the raids were conducted at or near the full moon to provide crews with a better opportunity to locate targets.
258 The gunwale is the upper edge of the side of a boat.
259 The First World War generated many stories of the paranormal from its very beginning. During the Battle of Mons in August 1914, for instance, many British soldiers claimed they had been guided to safety by the apparition of a medieval archer said to inhabit the area, where the Battle of Agincourt had been fought in 1415. As the conflict wore on and casualties mounted, bereaved relatives found in spiritualism a hope that contact could be reestablished with departed loved ones.
260 It is possible that this reference is to A. C. Doyle, who declared himself to be a spiritualist in 1887, the same year in which he arranged for Watson’s first Holmes reminiscence, A Study in Scarlet, to be reprinted in Beeton’s Christmas Annual. In 1918, Doyle’s son Kingsley and brother Innes would die in the Spanish Flu pandemic, causing him to more intensely embrace and promote the spiritualist cause.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: THE CALCULUS OF HELL
Mycroft Holmes once more occupied the sofa in the sitting room of Safety House, thoughtfully reading a war communique, while his brother sat in an armchair beside mine.
“You do not mind waiting for Sir Walter?” asked the elder Holmes, not looking up from his message. “I am all too familiar with your impatience, Sherlock.”
“I believe Watson and I know the principal answers already,” replied the detective. “Any desire for haste would stem from an anxious wish to forestall what Berlin appears to have planned for our metropolis.”
“I understand,” replied the elder Holmes, who pursed his lips as we heard the rear house door open and close quickly. “Time, I agree, is not to be wasted.”
Seconds later, Sir Walter Bullivant strode into the sitting room and sat down after tossing hat and coat onto an empty chair.
“And so I understand we may be facing an event in the manner of Peshtigo,” Bullivant said urgently to Mycroft, who looked up and nodded quickly with a pained expression.
“Might Watson and I know what that name signifies?” asked Sherlock Holmes with sudden curiosity.
“Of course,” Mycroft replied cautiously as he put the war communique aside. “Peshtigo is a town in the United States—”
“In their province of Wisconsin,” added Bullivant. “The village itself is near the shores of Lake Michigan, and a fire occurred there years ago. A rather terrible fire.”
“Rather more than just a fire,” corrected Mycroft Holmes. “It was a great storm of flame, nightmarish in power and terrifying in its consequences.”
“Blenkiron related the events to us some time ago,” revealed Bullivant, to Mycroft Holmes’s obvious displeasure.
“Using fire to clear vast areas of forest land is not uncommon in America,” the spymaster said. “One day over forty years ago, just such activity was in progress near the aforementioned town of Peshtigo. Strong winds arrived and fanned the fire, setting it out of control and magnifying its intensity many times over. A wall of flame arose, perhaps a mile high and five across, with temperatures that exceeded fifteen hundred degrees, we understand. It swept across the land at many tens of miles per hour, hot enough to turn sand into glass.”261
“Over a million acres were burned,” Mycroft said quickly. “At least a thousand people died, perhaps more than two thousand.”
“You may compare it to the Great Fire of London,” Bullivant said. “That event very likely possessed many of the same characteristics of the American conflagration.”262
“And now it appears that the Germans may be attempting to create another such inferno in the metropolis,” Mycroft declared. “One surpassing that of long ago, rivalling in intensity that which occurred in America.”
“I had no knowledge of the Peshtigo event,” said Sherlock Holmes, “but I admit that the fire here of two-hundred-fifty years ago crossed my mind once Watson had uttered the words that allowed me to intuit what our enemies wish to accomplish.”
Bullivant nodded, while Mycroft Holmes stared at the ceiling.
“Let us suppose that Von Bork arranges for a very few selected blocks of London to be targeted by German incendiary bombs,” Sherlock Holmes suggested.
“But how could the bombers know exactly where to aim? How could those blocks be precisely marked?” Bullivant asked knowingly.
“They would be lit,” replied my friend. “Lit by search lights on the tops of buildings, bright lights with filaments made of—”
“Wolfram,” interjected Mycroft. “Tungsten.”
“Yes,” said Holmes. “The German bombers would then know upon which blocks to train their bombs in order to ignite intense fires in those buildings.
“And at the same time, Von Bork would summon forth the London Transport League, not to make emergency transfers of supplies, but rather to unwittingly block the streets, making it impossible for fire-fighting equipment to reach the fires in time to quell them.”
“Those haulers arriving would be driving lorries pulled by horses,” said Mycroft, “animals that could be—”
“Put down by Von Bork’s henchman, who would be waiting with pistols, prepared to run off in the confusion after destroying the horses,” completed his brother.
“The streets would be clogged for some time, then,” declared Bullivant.
“Preventing the separate fires from being extinguished—allowing them to join to produce a storm of flame such as occurred in that American town,” Mycroft concluded. “Or here hundreds of years ago,” he added, nodding thoughtfully. “I believe we all can see the pieces fitting together in that manner.” He looked at his brother. “Do you believe the mustard gas was intended to be used in conjunction with this?”
“It would not surprise,” replied Sherlock Holmes. The detective smiled sardonically. “It is the type of flourish that Herr Von Bork might fancy. Fortunately, he will not be able to add that embellishment, but the plan of creating a great wall of flame—if that is the plan—provides sufficient horror in itself.”
“That is all very well,” said Mycroft Holmes quietly. “However, achieving the objective in question is not a simple matter. Absent the wind that precipitated the Peshtigo event, one must stoke the fire to sufficient size so that it generates its own upward draft, feeding and expanding itself.”
“Is that what John Blenkiron has told you?” asked my friend.
Mycroft Holmes studied his brother for a moment and then continued, oblivious to the questions.
“That, in turn, requires a mass of incendiary bombs beyond the capacity of an aeroplane fleet to carry,” he said,” though the Americans tell us the Germans are attempting to develop a fire bomb of very small weight; a feat they have not yet achieved. You see, Sherlock, creating such a storm of fire by bombing alone is not yet possible.”263
“But one could have the hearth
prepared in advance, so to speak,” answered his brother, “and then torch it from above after making certain no one can put out the flame quickly.”
“Yes, but how can Von Bork prime London’s hearth?”
“Mycroft raises a crucial a point,” said Bullivant. “Are the Germans storing countless reams of foolscap in the buildings of central London? What would create an even greater fire in the first place?”
Holmes smiled. “What if the German bombers did not have to drop all the bombs necessary to create such a conflagration?” he asked. “What if some incendiary bombs were already planted on the ground, ready to be ignited—”
“By a few more bombs dropped from above,” said Mycroft, completing the thought. “Gad, that would be a brilliant stroke! Horrifying, of course, but brilliant nonetheless. Simple but direct. How do you suppose they brought the incendiary bombs over here? Smuggled to the coast by means of U-boats, such as you suppose the mustard gas to have been?” he asked. “The effort would have to have been a grand one.”
“I believe they have been slowly assembled over the years, perhaps even in the period prior to the war,” said Sherlock Holmes. “German incendiary bombs are containers of kerosene and oil, are they not?”
“That is the current design, yes,” replied Mycroft Holmes. “The containers are then wrapped in tarred rope.”
“We recovered tar-stained knives at the warehouse near the gasworks, along with evidence of kerosene,” said his brother. “The man killed in Eversholt Road had a knife that was tarred.”
“The Gussiter firm had held a lease on that building for many years prior to the war,” interjected Bullivant. “Are you suggesting the Germans were constructing incendiary bombs even then?”
“That is a possibility my brother just raised,” Mycroft reminded Sir Walter. “And it is a notion I am quite prepared to accept as plausible.” He glanced at his sibling. “If those bombs are being secretly stored in buildings throughout the City, they must be in locations leased by the Germans.”
“Shall we begin searching for such properties?” asked Bullivant. “My man Macandrew can be put to that task.”
“We may not have the time to complete such a hunt,” replied Mycroft. “Recall that we were able to trace the Gussiter firm through many holding companies, but that process still took several weeks. For all we know, the buildings we wish to locate have been leased by the Germans under the names of entirely different enterprises.”
“Can we not then simply conduct a massive search of the City?” suggested Bullivant.
“We would alert Von Bork with that action and never have an opportunity to seize him,” said Sherlock Holmes.
“Failing to take your German spy bothers me less than the chance of creating hysteria among our general population,” asserted his brother. “We must operate with the precision of a surgeon.”
The elder Holmes paused to look across the room. “It is an immense project that the Germans have undertaken, one long in the planning,” he said. “One can appreciate the vastness of it all.”
“And is that in part because you had already contemplated unleashing a similar flaming terror upon the Germans?” asked his brother.
“What?” replied Mycroft, as Bullivant looked on with anxiety. “Why would—”
“Why would John Blenkiron have spoken to you of that episode in America some time ago?” Sherlock Holmes said accusingly. “Why would you and Sir Walter appear so knowledgeable of this insane possibility?”
“Sanity, of course, is by definition not an objective term, Sherlock.”
“Then ignore my characterisation,” replied the younger Holmes. “Has our government discussed with the Americans the possibility of launching such incendiary attacks against Germany?”
Mycroft and Sir Walter looked at one another cautiously, and then the former replied, “It would not surprise if the topic had failed to arise in the past, I suppose.”
“I doubt it would not surprise you, brother, for you were undoubtedly part of the discussion, were you not?”
Mycroft Holmes remained silent.
“And what has prevented implementation of such a satanic plan?” the detective asked.
“Our air forces at present cannot drop a sufficient number of incendiaries, just as the Germans are limited in their ability,” admitted the elder Holmes. “In any case, your adjectives are steadily escalating to the benefit of no one, dear brother. This aspect of the discussion is at an end.”
“Very well then—have you any knowledge of the next German raid from above?” Sherlock Holmes pointedly asked the two men.
Mycroft turned toward Sir Walter.
“Blenkiron’s American agents have not yet able to confirm a precise date for the next raid,” Bullivant said. “However, our man in Belgium believes that one is coming during the time of the next full moon—and that is mere days away.”
“Let us break out the maps,” suggested Mycroft. “We are back to the matter of trying to locate buildings in which incendiaries may be stored.”
“What maps do you wish, M?” asked Sir Walter. “Those of the City and immediate surroundings?”
“Yes,” said the elder Holmes. “That is the section of town that the Transport League is apparently to cordon off by blocking street intersections. No doubt, it is the heart of London that the Germans aim to incinerate first.”
“Hoping the flames then engulf the rest of the metropolis,” added his brother.
“I will fetch the charts,” said Bullivant, rising.
“And to consider for a moment another matter, is there word of Hannay?” Holmes asked Mycroft as Sir Walter left for the map storage room in Safety House.
“And of Miss Lamington?” I added.
“There is a good deal concerning both, actually,” replied the elder Holmes. “I have not had an opportunity to yet relate to you their activities, which have been rather dramatic in their way. First, however, I suppose I should give you the good news, as relayed to me from Blenkiron, that the pair of them—General Hannay and Miss Lamington—are now engaged to be wed.”
I gave a pleasant start and silently revelled in Mycroft’s joyous revelation.
“It was a troth not won without hardship,” the elder Holmes said. “Hannay had traced the plump man we know as Moxon Ivery to a chalet let under his alias of Bommaerts. Miss Lamington had, independently, linked him to the same location, for at the time neither she nor Hannay was yet aware of the other’s proximity or purpose. By chance, they each invaded the chalet on the same night and encountered one another.”
Mycroft Holmes paused, and his brother gave him an expectant look.
“Ivery or Bommaerts—or whoever he really is—arrived at the chalet the very same evening. Hannay confronted him, but Ivery was able to flee before he could be captured.”264
“And is Ivery’s present location known?” asked Sherlock Holmes as Sir Walter returned with a handful of maps. The detective made no mention of his belief that the German’s true name was Von Schwabing.
“Not with any certainty,” replied his brother, leaning back in the sofa as Sir Walter tossed the charts onto the large sitting room table. “However, I fancy that he has gone to Switzerland, seeking refuge.”
“The nation that is also home to the Gussiter Company,” said Bullivant as he dumped a collection of maps onto the dining table.
“Yes,” said Mycroft, who rose slowly from the sofa. “It is there that Hannay will continue the pursuit. Well, I believe we now have maps in abundance. Here, let us spread them out.”
The charts were rolled out across the wide surface of the table, with drinking glasses used to keep them flat. Mycroft Holmes bent down, as much as his portly frame would allow, and stared at the central portion of one.
“Here is the arc as defined by those destinations assigned to members of your London Transport League,” he said to his brother.
“It is the City that will be their target,” I said under my breath, immediately feeling embarrass
ed at having restated the obvious.
“Actually, Watson, it is several buildings that will serve as targets,” said Holmes. “We must speedily determine which ones those are.”
“I can contact Magillivray,” said Bullivant. “The police can scour the area, search every building for suspicious contents, as I suggested earlier.”
“And by so doing, create such a fuss that the Germans will know we are onto them,” repeated Holmes, still staring at the map. “And instilling panic in the heart of London in the bargain.”
“And I believe you have ruled out contacting land agents to obtain the identities of those leasing spaces in the area, Mycroft,” said the spymaster.
“That process could take far too long,” replied the elder Holmes.
“What does that leave us?”
Mycroft Holmes looked at his brother.
“Perhaps we should use the tools that our new century provides,” said Sherlock Holmes. “Aerial reconnaissance will be our method.”
“Ah,” said Bullivant. “Of course.”
“I believe that the buildings containing incendiary bombs will be marked by bright search lights on the night of the Germans’ raid,” declared Holmes. “Those must be placed upon the tops of the buildings in question. That in itself narrows our choices somewhat.
“We cannot be certain the presumed lights have yet been deployed atop the target buildings,” declared the detective, “but it is not inconceivable that they are already in place, though hidden, perhaps in crates. We will have aeroplanes fly over the City to take photographs, and then we will examine those images for signs of such containers, or the search lights themselves. There is no guarantee of success, but I think it our best initial course: it does not tip our hand to the Germans, and it does not alarm the general populace. And it is quick.”
“Then it will be the course we follow,” asserted Bullivant. “I take it you approve, Mycroft.”
“Of course,” said the elder Holmes brother, stepping away from the table. He strode to the telephone. “I have no idea how soon we can arrange something with the RFC boys. For all I know, all our aerial cameras may be in France.”