by David Marcum
The princess directed her flashing dark eyes at the young Frenchman. “It was you,” she spat. “You sent those letters! You killed my people!”
Monsieur Olivier winced. “Non, ma mie, non,” he pleaded. “I merely attempted to warn you. There is a great conspiracy afoot. You are in grave danger, ma mie.”
Ada glared.
“He was with M,” Holmes said gently.
Ada turned her furious gaze back to the boy. “How do you know M?” she demanded.
“That ought to be a story for another time,” Holmes interrupted impatiently. “We have more pressing concerns.”
Ada stepped back, gathered herself and reclaimed her seat. “You are right, of course, Mr. Holmes. My apologies.”
Holmes gestured for the young man to take a seat as well. He lit his pipe and I offered cigarettes to the boy.
“Cremation and transit of the ashes have been arranged,” Holmes said, his voice quiet and soft. “Notice of your safety is also en route to your family.”
“Thank you,” Ada whispered. Her eyes shone with grateful tears.
“The additional victim appears to be Jane Miller, your laundry girl,” Holmes continued. “She is the only person unaccounted for. Requisite funeral arrangements have been made.”
Ada nodded.
“News of your survival has been contained so far. I would like to keep it thus until we are able to locate the perpetrator.” Holmes blew out a long spiral of smoke. “Monsieur Olivier has been trying to warn you of imminent danger for the last two weeks. M and I agree with him.”
“But why would anyone want to kill me? No one stands to gain anything from my death. Once I am married, my death would undoubtedly benefit my husband, but till then, I am pretty useless.” Ada frowned and glared at her young friend. “How do you know?”
Kaarle winced. “After we parted in Geneva, I went to meet my father. I accidentally stumbled upon a conspiracy involving Terai. Your father is not on his deathbed. Each of your suitors is a political plant. The British, Dutch and Indian represent their own, and the African is a French agent.”
“But Terai is neutral!” Ada exclaimed. “We have always been peaceful.”
Kaarle shook his head. “Terai is rich, independent, and possesses a powerful military force. It is strategically located and impossible to avoid for any trade route through Asia. You are surrounded by British, French and Dutch colonies, as well as rebellious Indian states. It is no secret that you are the favourite daughter of your father, and unlike most kingdoms where the crown automatically passes down to the eldest son, your family has been known to be eccentric enough to choose a successor deemed worthy. Your father himself was the fourth son, was he not? And your grandfather the second son-in-law?”
Ada nodded, her eyes wide.
“Your husband would be in the race for the crown of Terai, a most desirable object for each of your neighbours. The French and the Dutch would gain a strong foothold in the east, and will be able to wrest control of several states from the British. The British would become invincible if they won Terai. Any Indian state that has your unconditional support would gain not only a great army, but also a political advantage against European intruders. Also, even though your father is non-aligned, some of your siblings are very involved in the Indian independence movement. You have been known to sympathise.”
The Princess lifted her chin defiantly. “I advocate peace, like my father before me. However, if you saw the brutalities heaped upon my countrymen, you would feel the need to rebel, too. Terai is only safe because we are powerful enough.”
“Nonetheless,” I interjected. “This does not explain why anyone would wish to harm Ada. Surely it is in the interest of these men to keep her alive and happy with them, so they could win her hand?”
Holmes smiled. “You have cut straight to the heart of the matter, my dear doctor,” he said. “While the British, French, Dutch and Indians stand to win, others stand to lose. As such, eliminating the princess is a good way of reducing the risk. One less contender to the throne.”
Ada sprang from her seat. “Are you implying my relatives are involved, Mr. Holmes?”
“I do not theorise without adequate data,” Holmes replied calmly.
“But you suspect?”
“It is only logical.”
“No,” Ada declared. “Please cease your investigations. I shall return to my homeland immediately.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Kaarle cried. “You will be killed on the way!”
The princess remained stubbornly silent.
Holmes turned his raptor gaze upon the young woman. “There is no dignity in death by betrayal,” he said quietly. “If a member of your family is indeed responsible for this assault, would their next move not be to eliminate your father and other dissenting members of your family?”
She staggered. Holmes caught her gently and led her back to her chair. I had always known Holmes to be chivalrous, but he usually disliked women. In this instance, however, I could see genuine concern for the girl in his eyes. Was it because she was barely more than a child, or could it be that Holmes’s projection of machine-like imperturbability was false?
“Do not exert yourself, Ada,” Holmes said softly. “You have been poisoned, abducted and shot at; you require rest.”
Kaarle’s eyes widened in shock. “But I warned you! Did you not heed my words?”
“I did,” Ada said softly. “I was prepared for the wormwood in the wine and hemlock in the quail.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, your Highness, but were you with one of your suitors each time you were attacked?” Holmes asked.
She nodded. “I had wine with the African prince; it was one of his special vintages from his vineyard in Bordeaux. Quail was served for dinner with your British peer. I was taken from the street right outside the Indian prince’s hotel, and the attack last night happened just after I returned from dinner with the Dutch gentleman.”
“What happens to your dowry if you die?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I suppose it reverts to my father’s treasury.” She looked straight at Holmes. “My relatives would not care about that. It is not a significant sum of money for my family.”
Holmes nodded.
I turned to the boy and asked, “Who is beast devil?”
“I am unsure,” Kaarle replied. “As I said, I overheard two men talking of Terai. I sent out whatever information I had through mail to warn Ada - in parts, so that they would not be intercepted, and prima facie nonsensical, so that they would be dismissed as innocuous. I had the two agents arrested and made my way to London immediately. I arrived at Charing Cross last evening.”
The bell rang.
Holmes quickly sent our young guests to his bedroom with strict instructions to stay out of sight.
“I have been expecting you, Lestrade,” Holmes said, greeting our visitor.
Inspector Lestrade shook his head sombrely. “It’s an unholy mess, I tell you, Mr. Holmes. Some foreign princess got herself killed, and the Prime Minister descended upon us.” He smiled. “We know who did it, but we need your help to find the fellow.”
Holmes arched an eyebrow.
“The princess left everything in her will to a Kaarle Olivier; she was sweet on him in Switzerland, her friends say. We know Olivier arrived in London yesterday. Probably wanted to marry the girl, but she was to wed someone of her own class - must have killed her in a jealous fit.”
“And her entourage?” Holmes asked.
“Died protecting her, didn’t they?”
“Do you honestly think one man could have killed thirteen people single-handed?” I interjected hotly.
“Accomplices.”
“Tell me, Inspector, are you familiar with the brothers Zvíře and Ďábel?” Holmes enquired.
/> “Beast and devil!” Lestrade exclaimed. “Are they involved?”
“It is likely.” Holmes took in my befuddled expression. “Mercenaries, my dear doctor, named for their looks. These two make a most vicious pair of criminals. Their origins are unknown, and they are fluent enough in at least six languages to disguise themselves as natives. I believe they are wanted by several nations.”
Lestrade groaned.
“I believe we may be able to capture them,” Holmes told the policeman. “However, I shall need full cooperation of Scotland Yard.”
“By all means, Mr. Holmes.” Lestrade’s beady eyes glinted with excitement. “What do you need?”
A devious smile appeared on Holmes’s thin face, and, for a moment, I was reminded of a bloodhound catching a scent. “We shall lay a trap, my dear Inspector, and I need bait.”
“What bait?”
“I believe you are aware of the shooting here last night?”
Lestrade nodded.
“I would like Scotland Yard to publicly state that valuable information on the perpetrators has been found at Baker Street, and an eye-witness has survived. The police have a solid lead and shall arrest the culprits soon.”
“Now, look here, Mr. Holmes, I can’t put out false information.”
“It is true.”
“What?”
Holmes smiled. “We have an eye-witness who was shot by Zvíře last night, presently under the care of Dr. Watson.”
“I need to see him,” Lestrade said stubbornly.
Holmes glanced at me.
“I’m afraid my patient is not in a state for visitors at the moment, Inspector,” I replied. “However, we may be able to set up a meeting later today.”
“Rest assured, Inspector, once we have the thugs, your eye-witness will testify if required. Also, as always, I would like you to keep my name out of it.” Holmes’s demeanour was sombre. Even at that young age, he was quite masterful. Lestrade agreed reluctantly and departed.
“Now we wait, Watson,” Holmes sighed.
Lestrade kept his word. The evening papers carried the bait.
Barely an hour later, Sir Norbert, Ada’s British suitor, appeared at our doorstep. He looked much younger than his forty-seven years, and was unusually handsome. His long fingers clutched the evening Times.
“Mr. Holmes,” he said softly. “You must find my Ada; I know in my heart that she is alive.”
“What makes you so sure?” Holmes asked sharply.
“This.” The nobleman held up the newspaper. “I knew each man and woman that looked after Ada, Mr. Holmes. If only one person survived, it is she. These Indians - Rajput, they are called - would protect their charge at any cost. If Ada perished, the rest would commit suicide.”
“Interesting,” Holmes remarked.
Sir Norbert’s response was cut off by the entry of a rather large elderly gentleman.
“Where is het meisje?” he demanded.
“Interesting,” Holmes repeated. “Dokter Diederik, I assume?”
“Ja. Where is she? We will go to Maastricht and be safe.”
“Why do you assume she is alive?” I asked.
“I believe it is more surprise than assumption, my dear Watson,” Holmes drawled. “After all, our guest here is an excellent shot.”
Instantly, in a coordinated move, Diederik grabbed me and held a gun to my head, while Sir Norbert drew a sword from his cane and rested the tip on Holmes’s throat.
Holmes appeared indifferent. “It is a .476 calibre Enfield Mk I. I was right after all, Watson. I can confess to a monograph on the subject.”
“Clever, aren’t you, Holmes?” the Englishman spat. “Now, where is the girl?”
Holmes shrugged nonchalantly. “How would I know?”
The sword pressed in. I could see droplets of blood beading on Holmes’s pale neck.
“Would you like me to shoot your friend?” Diederik growled.
Holmes’s eyes flashed silver with contained rage. “If you harm Watson, Zvíře, I promise you and Ďábel shall not leave this room alive.”
I finally understood. Zvíře and Ďábel had been posing as Ada’s suitors!
Ďábel laughed. “You are hardly in a position to threaten,” he mocked. “Now tell me where she is and I might let you live.” He jabbed the blade further.
Holmes ignored him.
A door opened. “Stop,” Ada commanded. “Let them go.”
“Do not come out!” Holmes shouted.
The princess stepped out of Holmes’s bedroom. Her hand was steady as she aimed her pistol at the scoundrels.
“Now, Watson!” Holmes cried.
Pandemonium ensued. Two shots rang out, followed by a cry of pain and the sound of shattering glass. Holmes knocked the sword off Ďábel and delivered a swift left hook. Simultaneously, I brought up my good leg in a brutal kick and Zvíře staggered, giving me ample time to pistol-whip him. Kaarle dived at Ada and both hit the floor. Kaarle moved quickly to shield her. Lestrade and a dozen policemen burst in.
Holmes and I stepped back, allowing the policemen to handcuff the two rogues. Zvíře was hit in the arm by Ada’s shot and his bullet had shattered the framed painting behind her head. Kaarle had saved her life.
“Now, gentlemen, would you care to enlighten us regarding the identity of your employer?” Holmes asked cheerfully, holding his handkerchief to the cut on his neck.
“Go to hell,” Zvíře growled.
“What are you willing to offer us in return?” Ďábel asked at the same time.
“That would depend on how valuable your information is,” Holmes replied. “If it is good enough, we may forget that you assaulted and attempted to murder the princess.”
Lestrade protested, but Holmes held up a hand to silence him.
“The money came from India. We heard references to a Ranjit Singh.”
Ada paled. “The royal counsel. We must inform my father.”
Holmes nodded. “And who is your British contact?”
“We do not know the principal. He is simply referred to as the professor. We only met with one of his agents, a university student named Horace Bloomington.”
Holmes turned to Ada. “Your abductor?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Very well,” Holmes said. “Assault and attempted murder charges will be dropped.”
The criminals smirked.
“However,” Holmes continued, “You will be charged with the murders of the real Sir Norbert and Dokter Diederik as well as thirteen innocent men and women.”
“You cheat!” Ďábel cried, lunging at Holmes. He was restrained by two able-bodied policemen.
“Congratulations, Lestrade, on a case well-solved,” Holmes told the shocked policeman. “You will find the murder weapons on your prisoners, and bodies of the two gentlemen at the Highgate cemetery, close to a birch tree, judging from the mud on their shoes. Also, the charred end of Zvíře’s sleeve and the soot on Ďábel’s trousers betray their presence at the crime scene last evening. I have no doubt that you will be able to extract the names of their accomplices hired for the act.”
Lestrade thanked Holmes effusively and departed.
“Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” Ada whispered. “You have brought peace to the souls of my fallen compatriots.”
“How did you know?” Kaarle enquired.
“It was elementary,” Holmes replied. “Zvíře and Ďábel had to be in close proximity to the princess, which indicated the suitors. Fortunately, I recognised them from their pictures. They may not remember, but we have crossed paths before.” He looked up at our curious faces. “It had best be discussed over dinner.”
After Holmes regaled us with his tales over a lavish dinner at Simpson’s, I aske
d Ada about her future.
“I suppose I shall have to marry either Vikram or Pierre,” she said sadly.
I noticed the stricken expression on Kaarle’s face. Before I could say anything, though, Holmes announced that he had an errand to run and requested Kaarle to accompany him. Ada and I returned to Baker Street.
Unable to bear the aura of misery surrounding my companion, I finally asked her the question which had been plaguing me. “Is there no way you could escape this unwanted marriage? Your father is not ill, you may be able to buy some time.”
“It does not matter, Dr. Watson,” she wept. “I would never be permitted to marry Kaarle, even if I renounced my husband’s claim to contend for the throne of Terai. We need the political support. If I did not have a duty to my kingdom, I would have happily taken this chance to be presumed dead.”
I could only offer her a warm beverage in consolation. Exhaustion crept in upon her, and I sent her to bed. I waited up for Holmes, but at the stroke of midnight, I found myself too drowsy to sit and retired to my chambers.
Holmes and Kaarle finally appeared at breakfast. It was obvious that they had been up all night. Kaarle’s cerulean eyes were red-rimmed, as were Ada’s. A wave of sympathy coursed through me at the plight of the young couple.
Holmes rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Ada,” he called gently. “Kaarle would like to have a few words.”
Ada looked up apprehensively.
Kaarle winced. “I may not have been entirely truthful about my origins in the past,” he began, eyes downcast. “I am not French, though my mother was. I am the crown prince of a small island nation off the coast of Nice. I have been in exile for several years, but I have now been reinstated - and finally in a position to ask for your hand in marriage.” He knelt before her and held out a solitaire ring. “Advyaitavadini,” he pronounced carefully. “Ma belle, ma petite, ma bichette, ma mie - je t’aime, veux-tu m’epouser? Would you do me the honour of being my wife? Kya aap hamari ardhangini banengi?”