Embassy Row

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

  The blood-soaked padding in the kitchen now made sense to me, and I did not like what it revealed. I was not certain where Sutton had been struck, but there was blood enough that it had to be more than a crease, and high on the body.

  “Is he badly wounded?” Miss Gatspy asked before I did. “How serious is the injury?”

  “He was able to make his way halfway up the stairs to the door. I had reached him by then.” He looked away. “He has lost a great deal of blood, and he is suffering from the care of Doctor Watson, who may be relied upon to keep his knowledge of this attack to himself. Mister Holmes does not want his brother to learn of it, for he does not wish his brother to become actively embroiled in this matter.”

  “Do you think he might?” I asked, aware of the distance the two maintained between themselves.

  “If he thought Mycroft Holmes were being hunted by murderers, he might,” said Tyers with a shake of his head. “If only Sutton had not been about his impersonation. Still, thank God he was wearing the padding, or I am afraid he would be needing the services of a minister and not a physician now.”

  “Poor man,” said Miss Gatspy, then added sharply, “Who is Mister Sutton.”

  I sighed, realizing I could not dissemble now. “He is an actor.”

  “An actor?” said Miss Gatspy, and then recognition dawned. “So that’s how he does it!” she exclaimed, keeping her voice low with an effort. “I should have realized. He is Mister Holmes’ double. Oh, very clever.”

  “May we see him?” I asked, aware that we had disturbed the men in the study.

  “Go ahead. But do not excite him. Doctor Watson was most emphatic about that, and in his years in the army, he became expert on gunshot wounds. Any unnecessary distress will hamper Sutton’s recovery.” He added in an undertone, “Mister Holmes has provided a topical anesthetic from the plants he grows. He will not permit anyone to administer opiates to Sutton.”

  I nodded, not surprised at this restriction, for Mycroft Holmes’ condemnation of such drugs was nothing new. I tapped on the doorframe. “Mister Holmes, may we come in?”

  “Come ahead, Guthrie, Miss Gatspy,” he responded at once.

  All the tables in the study had been pushed back to the bookcases, save the longest, which had been swept clear of papers and books, and on which Edmund Sutton lay, his upper body naked but for a mass of bandages around his left shoulder and chest. His fair head lay cradled on Holmes’ rolled-up swallowtail coat. Under the smears of his makeup, he was pale, his color ashen, and he appeared to be half-asleep. His wig was on the floor, looking like a small badger about to dig its way through to the flat below. Mister Holmes, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, bent over him like a ponderous guardian angel, wiping Sutton’s brow and feeling his pulse from time to time.

  “He will live,” said Holmes, answering the question I could not bring myself to ask. “Though he may not enjoy it for the next several days.” He looked down at Sutton. “Had I realized his risk was so great, I would not have permitted him to—”

  Sutton’s words were slow and indistinct. “. . . my job . . . don’t blame . . . self.”

  “You may not blame me, my boy,” said Holmes with quiet conviction. “But I blame myself sufficiently for the both of us.”

  “No need,” said Sutton, making an effort to keep from slurring.

  “You may wish to think so,” said Holmes, “but I cannot. Now, Edmund, you must rest. Doctor Watson told you that this is the best thing for healing. I trust you will do as I ask and permit Tyers and me to do all that we can to assure your return to robust health.”

  Sutton muttered something, his eyes closing, fluttering, and dosing again. His breathing was slow and steady.

  “Tyers,” Holmes rapped out quickly, his tone low and precise, “I want his wound bathed and the dressing changed every two hours. If there is any trace of infection, you must tell me at once. The physicians may blather all they want about laudable pus, I do not think infection of any sort in the region of the lungs is desirable. There is iodine and carbolic to keep the wound clean. And use the powdered angelica root on the dressings—it has saved many a farmer from death. I have the greatest respect for modern medicine, but in this, I bow to tradition.” He folded his big arms and looked down contemplatively at Sutton. “I had rather be lying there than him.”

  “Your conscience would, certainly,” said Miss Gatspy. “But we must be grateful you are not, for as brave as your Mister Sutton may be, he is not capable of resolving the matter of Lord Brackenheath’s death.” She nodded once to me. “Your Mister Guthrie has said you need information from me, and he has convinced me it is necessary for me to impart all I know. You have every reason to be grateful to him. That I am willing to discuss what I have discovered does not mean that I support your aims in the Pacific, but that the danger I perceive in Europe is greater than the course of your naval agreement would suggest,” she continued in the same bracing manner as Holmes rolled down his shirtsleeves. “I am more concerned with what might happen if your agreement is compromised any further than it has been already, not with the benefits you will reap should it succeed.”

  “I understand the Golden Lodge has other priorities than mine,” said Holmes, cocking his head in the direction of the corridor and the sitting room beyond. “It will be easier for Sutton to rest if we repair to the—”

  “Certainly,” said Penelope Gatspy.

  Holmes turned to Tyers. “Call me if you have any need of me.”

  Tyers’ gesture shooed us out of the study.

  I was the last of the three of us out the door, and I very nearly did not hear Sutton speak my name.

  “Don’t let him . . . go across . . .” He was fighting exhaustion and pain, and his effort to be understood brought perspiration to his forehead.

  “To the club?” I responded, returning to his side. “Don’t worry about that, old fellow. No one will expect him to leave this flat for the greater part of a week. You have bought Holmes and yourself some time, for surely some member or members of the club saw you shot. If Tyers carries a message, they will know not to expect you for a few days, and by then, this trouble with the Japanese will be at an end.” As I spoke, I felt a quiver of doubt that we would be able to bring it off.

  “Protect . . .” Sutton insisted weakly.

  “That I will. Word of honor.” I saw that Tyers was frowning, and I said, “I’ve got to talk with Holmes and Miss Gatspy now. We will determine how best to go about things.” I was about to offer a platitude for recovery, but as I was about to speak I realized that Sutton was already drifting into sleep.

  “Off you go, Mister Guthrie,” Tyers whispered. “I’ll take care of him, don’t you fash yourself about him.”

  I saluted and went to the sitting room where I found Holmes tying the sash of his smoking jacket while Miss Gatspy had taken a seat, not by the large table, but by the Empire secretary against the wall.

  “He will be all right,” Holmes informed me in such a voice as I hope never to hear from him again. There was force in his statement, and with it a desperation that made me wonder if Holmes were more apprehensive than he had first revealed. “Watson was able to cut the ball out without any major vessels being damaged, and without sacrificing the nerves in his arm. He tells me that the organs are not touched so . . .” He steadied himself. “Had he not been wearing padding, I do not like to contemplate what could have resulted.”

  “Yes. Tyers intimated as much when we arrived,” said Miss Gatspy in that same self-possessed manner. “But—is his name Sutton?—yes, Sutton was aware of his risk, for I am certain you would not expose him to danger without telling him of it.”

  “Oh, I told him,” said Holmes. “I think he enjoyed it as a game, trying to elude them without being obvious about it. But I knew the flat was being watched and that it was no game. I still do not know by whom. I should have made certain he could not be—”

  “Mister Holmes, you know as well as I that anyone with a rifle wh
o is determined to kill another cannot adequately be stopped, not with the distance a rifle may be accurately fired in these days.” She paused, then said with deliberate lightness, “Even I would hesitate to try to shoot one man on a street as busy as Pall Mall; the chance of success is not high. Who is to say that a carriage or a crowd of people might impede one’s aim? And how is one to avoid the confusion which must necessarily follow? It is useless to think that such commotion aids flight, for it often has just the opposite result. Which is one of the reasons I must suppose you live here: You wish to minimize the opportunity for your enemies to do you harm. It is very likely that someone shooting at you would miss and fall into the hands of the law at the same time.”

  “Not this time.” In spite of his preoccupation with Sutton, Holmes was paying attention to Miss Gatspy. “I have not appreciated you until now, Miss Gatspy.” He favored her with a short bow that would earn even Ambassador Tochigi’s approval as a nice mix of deference and reservation.

  She paid little attention to this. “Guthrie tells me that you are finally looking beyond the English and the Japanese for the culprit in Lord Brackenheath’s murder.”

  “I am considering the possibilities,” Holmes corrected her.

  “Ah.” She offered him a winsome smile. “Meaning you are not convinced. Very well. I will tell you what I know, what I suspect, and what I speculate will come of those things.” She folded her black-gloved hands. “I know that the Captain of Grodno Hussars who attended the gala was not Russian. His accent was not right.”

  “A regional variation,” said Holmes. “A youth spent in different cities.”

  “I don’t think so, for the vowels were off, and no one escapes the vowels of his childhood, no matter where they may live afterward.” She did not see his nod of agreement to know he shared her observation. “And he swore in Hungarian. I told Guthrie about that, and he paid no heed.”

  “I am sorry to tell you that he was following my instructions in that regard,” said Holmes with a faint, self-deprecating smile.

  “Well, you have come to your senses quickly, and that is something worthwhile.” She looked at me. “I think perhaps Guthrie shared your reservations.”

  “Alas,” said Holmes with deliberate, sarcastic formality. “He has the disadvantage to be in my employ.”

  “To be sure. And you have had much to do in the last twenty-four hours,” Miss Gatspy said, as if accepting an apology. “And in all fairness, when you had the opportunity to review all the aspects of the case, you knew you had not grasped the whole, at least as we of the Golden Lodge understand it. You are alerted against Russia, for it is obvious what disputes Russia has with Japan in regard to naval ventures, but there are others with as great stakes in this game. You have only to look in the shadows to find them. The Hapsburgs are pressed on all sides. The Austrian Empire has never truly recovered from the depredations of Napoleon. They have maintained their uneasy alliances at great cost. Their neighbors are either traditionally hostile, or, worse, former members of their alliance. Now that Russia and Germany are actively vying for the opportunity of defending the Balkan States, Austro-Hungary is both outgunned and viewed as a villain, prepared to usurp the lands held by the Czar and bring about ruin in Germany.”

  Holmes signaled his agreement with his watchfob. “You have an excellent grasp of the situation. Austro-Hungary is barely able to keep the Serbs from out-and-out revolt, and the Albanians have reached the point where they rarely pay their taxes.” He rubbed at the slight stubble on his jaw. “In the rush to procure a few, last colonies, the Czar and Kaiser Wilhelm find themselves in a peculiar and very unofficial alliance. If Austro-Hungary can engender hostility between England and Japan, Russia will be free to move against Korea and Manchuria, both of which they covet. From that will come war, you may rely on it. With Russia grateful to Austro-Hungary and busy elsewhere, Vienna will still have the ability to block German advancement. And Germany will attempt to expand into those parts of China now protected by international agreement. This would make it possible for Austro-Hungary to reassimilate the Balkan States, and perhaps reclaim part of Greece. I suspect—indeed, I hope—such efforts are doomed. But this policy of distraction is almost as useful to them as a war between rivals. You no doubt recall the terms of the treaty we delivered just after you entered my employ. Through that treaty England would be compelled to enter such conflicts, and it would not be advantageous.”

  “I can see that,” I assured him.

  “Which is what makes this current agreement so very vulnerable. If the Hapsburgs could be seen to have brought about the failure of this agreement, it would provide them prestige they currently lack. If their ambitions are thwarted in this effort to restore their position, they will be open to conquest by Germany or Russia in the name of restoration of European balance, or some such twaddle. So the preservation of our agreement with Japan is essential to the stability of Europe, little as Austro-Hungary may believe it.”

  “That is why the Golden Lodge has taken so much interest in your dealings with the Japanese,” said Miss Gatspy. “We are convinced that matters are precarious and require careful monitoring, for without it, disputes might quickly become battles, and then we should be helpless to prevent the wholesale destruction of Europe. To permit the disintegration of any European state would lead to chaos.”

  Holmes heard her out without interruption. “You suppose your view is the correct one?”

  “Certainly. As you suppose yours is.” She made no offer of appeasement. “Mine has the advantage that it includes all the known factors without any coincidences, such as the deliberate attack on you and Guthrie.”

  “But my opinion is no longer fixed, not as it was,” said Holmes, looking in my direction. “And there is the matter of those watching me. That is where your argument is most powerful. The men who attacked the cab. The ones who shot Edmund.” He sat down away from the window. “Yes, I can see how they managed it, the Hungarians, determined to break their position through putting Russia on the attack against Japan in the Pacific so that they would be able to establish themselves through all of central Europe. Given historical precedence, it is not an entirely ridiculous notion. And the English would not be in a position to stop them because our holdings in Asia and the Pacific would demand our defenses to the exclusion of intervening in Austro-Hungarian expansion while we had our hands full of both Russia and Japan from the Gulf of Alaska to the southern tip of New Zealand.”

  “And the selection of Lord Brackenheath as the victim was mere coincidence?” I suggested, permitting my skepticism to be apparent in the tone of my voice.

  At that Holmes shook his long head. “I dislike the appearance of coincidence. You will notice I do not speak of coincidence itself, because I have found that few of them actually exist. Where there is the appearance of coincidence there is connection, no matter how hidden. The crucial issue is to discover where and how the connection may be made.” He pulled out a cigar, rolled it appreciatively between his thumb and fingers. “I think it may be that you have finally shown me the way.” He lit the cigar, letting the smoke rise around him. “If I had had the good sense to apply to you for information, Miss Gatspy, I might have spared Sutton the injury he has suffered for my sake.”

  “And you might not have,” said Miss Gatspy at her most practical. “You may have only put your enemies on the alert, and thereby increased your danger. I was not able to prevent the attempt being made on your—in the guise of Mister Sutton—life, because I was not aware that your participation in the negotiations was wholly unofficial. Had I been privy to your special arrangements, I might have come to a useful conclusion.”

  He made a strange motion with his hands. “My dear Miss Gatspy, I am not indulging in self-pity. My position in this, as in other governmental activities, demands certain things of me which I accept. I dislike it when those I employ are made to bear the burden for me. And thus far, they have. There have been attempts on Guthrie as well as myself, as i
s plain to the most ignorant. First a threat was delivered to him in the form of a cat covered in paint, and then, when that did not deter him, he was injured during his work for me. Sutton’s wound was not the only attempt made on my life, if I can have gall enough to describe it in such a way. These men are my greatest assets, and Guthrie is known to work for me. Therefore I cannot help but think that their misfortunes must be laid at my door.” He drew in more smoke and exhaled slowly, relishing it. “I do not generally confide in agents employed by such organizations as your Golden Lodge, and in this case, it is to my discredit. But in general, I would strive to keep my dealings as . . . unobvious as possible.”

  “Including deliberately leading your enemies to assume that you were not personally present for most of the negotiations,” said Miss Gatspy. “A clever and useful ploy in a number of ways, including reinforcing the myth that you are a wholly private man of sedentary habits, in your own way as cloistered as a monk. For the most part your ruse would seem to have been successful. Though you could not conceal your occasional departure for the Admiralty and government functions at all hours of the day and night.”

  “Hence the attack in Piccadilly, the other evening,” I said as the final pieces fell into place in my thoughts. “We were observed leaving, and that made it possible for our opponents to follow us and arrange an ambush.” I scowled as another supposed coincidence made itself apparent. “And the vandalism at the Brackenheaths’ town house?”

  Holmes stubbed out his cigar though he had only smoked half of it. “That is what we have yet to solve if we are to be able to salvage any of this imbroglio.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Miss Gatspy.

  “I mean,” said Holmes, turning so that he could look at her squarely, “I must determine where Lord Brackenheath’s recent money came from, and what it was intended to purchase. That will tell us where to look for the culprits who brought all this about.” He folded his arms. “Guthrie, you are the one best suited to this task. Lady Brackenheath has already confided in you. I cannot suppose she will refuse any reasonable request you may have on this head.” He regarded me steadily. “At last we have scented the quarry. And I do not relish the chase this time.”