Against the Brotherhood (13 page)

“I’ll look forward to that,” I said, doing my best to seem interested and greedy enough to convince them I was the sort of man they were searching for.

“Do not think you will deceive him. He is very powerful. Very,” said Dortmunder; I thought I detected a trace of fear in him, and the manner of one who is cowed by his superior.

I did my best to look interested but slightly skeptical, as I was aware a man of Jeffries’ stamp must, but inwardly I was beginning to feel much distressed.

The man who came into the room was not a large fellow; of moderate height, fair hair running to white, and eyes of so pale a blue that they seemed made of ice; unlike ice, their gaze was hot. He had on a leather hacking jacket with suede collar. I came to my feet again but could not bring myself to approach him, for there was a palpable air of evil around him.

“This is Herr von Metz,” said Herr Dortmunder, with the look of one who is presenting a ruler with a capricious temperament.

“Thank you, Herr Dortmunder,” he said in excellent English, undoubtedly for my benefit. “Our truant has arrived. A fortunate thing for you, young man. I do not often tolerate any departure from my plans. Had you delayed reporting to my men another day, we would have been forced to look for you. And kill you once we found you.” He strolled in my direction, and held out his hand as he looked me over, though not in greeting; I felt rather like a prize piece of stock about to be bred or slaughtered, at von Metz’s fancy.

“I had to come a different way,” I said, feeling like a child reporting to a teacher in class.

“We knew about the delayed trains; we were prepared to accommodate the change of times. We are not entirely isolated here,” said von Metz. “Some of us travel, as well. I have been kept informed of your movements since you left Vickers, with the exception of the time you spent in Luxembourg; my man there was, most unfortunately, called away, and I could not act quickly enough to fill the gap he left. Had he been there you would not have taken off on that ill-considered detour. An oversight he will answer for to me.” His glance flicked over my face; it was as if he had struck me. I began to suspect that what I had been told of this man’s power was not overstated. “It appears that you have had some ... adventure getting here.”

“Adventure,” I said with a sudden, hard laugh. “I have been nearly killed twice.”

“That should not have happened. If anyone is to kill you, we will do it,” said von Metz in such a tone as I never want to hear spoken by a human being again in my life. “Tell me what befell you, from the time you left London until now. And keep in mind there are marksmen in the gallery above. They will shoot at my signal or at any intemperate act on your part.”

FROM THE PERSONAL JOURNAL OF PHILIP TYERS:

They have pulled a body from the Thames, one of a young woman who was done most horribly to death. Her name is not known, but she had put a note in her mouth before she was tortured, and since it appears she was gagged, the note was not discovered by those who killed her. It was written in the same hand as the anonymous note M.H. received just before
G.
undertook the mission, and although somewhat damaged, it is nonetheless readable. In this note, which is addressed to M.H., the writer states that she is aware that she has been found, and she has secured an egg of opium, and will take it in order to keep from satisfying her attackers.

This has distressed M.H. very much, and he has informed Scotland Yard that the woman had stumbled upon some secret which she felt was too dangerous to impart, and who had feared for her life, with excellent cause. He has made a copy of her note and passed it on to Scotland Yard with misgivings.

When he confronted the two men from the Admiralty, he was in no mood for nonsense. His one piece of welcome news was confirmation that the Mercury train would be at his disposal from midnight tonight. M.H. will leave for the coast and the Channel as soon as this matter of the A. is resolved.

The first man, a confidential records clerk for the A., is Harold Worthing, a young follow with better family connections than personal resources, which is to say he is a spendthrift and a fool, at least according to M.H. The young man has been much in the company of the young widowed Hungarian Countess Erezebet Nagy, and is clearly infatuated with her. The connection is not a wise one. She is known to work for those who pay the best and is currently accepting fees from the Russians.

The second man, also a records clerk, though of somewhat lesser station, is Arthur Upton, who has been at his post for six years without any trace of misbehavior. Yet it was upon this second man that M.H. bent his attention.

After assuring these two men that everything discussed would be confidential, M.H. announced that he had determined that one of the two of them, or possibly the two working together, were responsible for the purloining of his Admiralty packet and the wrecking of his flat. He said to them both that the amount filched from the Admiralty over the last twenty months was staggering—more than seven thousand pounds. “But done in shillings and pence, so that it was not very noticeable. And on the return invoices. I suppose you thought they would be less noticeable, and for a time, you were right. The device is so uncomplicated. It was simply a matter of rounding off the figures and pocketing the difference, wasn’t it?” This he addressed to Mister Upton.

The fellow blustered in protest, claiming he had no knowledge of such things.

“It was your entries that were the ones I noticed. You were not so obvious at first; a few rounded figures in a list of twenty attract no attention. But success led you to greed and in the last several months, there are more and more rounded figures. I supposed the money must be going somewhere, and a word to your banker revealed that you had opened a second bank account, supposedly for a small trust, but, in fact, to hide your pilfering.
“
M.H. glared at Worthing. “You, sir, accepted a bribe from this man—which is preferable to accepting one from the Russians or the Turks, but still enough to dismiss you from your post—to inform him of your schedule of invoices received.”

Poor Worthing was already quite shaken, and now could not wait to confess his guilt.

“You may do that later,
”
said M.H., his expression still grave. He once again turned to Upton. “What was it? A mistress or the horses? Or gambling?” He said the last with a pounce. “Did you make the classic mistake of all men who game—that having lost, you must risk more in the hope of restoring your losses?” He pulled a notebook from his jacket. “I have here the records, supplied to me not an hour ago, from Remy des Langres, in Curzon Street. He, it seems, holds your vowels. They add up to quite a formidable figure.”

“The devil’s been in the games. I know I shall come about,”
he said, putting a bold face on his error. “I intend to repay all the debts. Truly I do.”

M.H. sighed, his voice dropping to a deep whisper. “And for this petty gaming mania of yours, I have had to let a good, loyal, and brave man go into mortal danger. Your little flirtation with corruption has placed an honorable civil servant at hazards compared to which your financial embarrassments are as nothing.”
He fixed Upton with a hard stare. “Guthrie is a far better man than you, deserving of all the help I can provide him. He has undertaken his mission on behalf of the safety of this country—a mission you were willing to imperil for the turn of a card or the roll of the dice. You are contemptible. If he loses his life, be it on your head, sir.”

Upton was quite pale now, and Worthing was trembling. “I .
..
I never thought that it would come to this,”
he said in a strange, fawning manner.

“More fool you,”
said M.H. without pity.

Worthing was on his feet. “I had no notion of his reasons for wanting to know my schedule.”

“But there are others who would offer you more attractive items for your help,” said M.H. heavily. “Your friendship with Countess Nagy is unwise, and could easily lead you into a far more devastating error than you have made. She is not the victim of fate you think her, and once in her toils, you could do inestimable harm. Your position is what makes you attractive to her, not your breeding or your probably genuine affection. Your resignation will be accepted today.” He paused, then added, “Had you been the one taking money, you would be clapped in as a traitor. As it is, you have shown yourself to be too imprudent for the trust reposed in you.” Then he rounded on Upton once more. “You, sir, will find that there are officers below waiting for you. Go along with them. Let me advise you to give them no trouble, for you have enough on your plate already.”

Upton shot M.H. a look of such loathing as I hope never to see again. “You think you’re above it all, don’t you? You think that you can never succumb. You believe you are immune to the lures of the world, and can look with contempt on those who are suffering. You sit here in your flat and the spiders spin their webs around you, for your uses. Well, I hope your schemes foil and you come to disgrace.” He put on his hat and started toward the door.

M.H.
said to his back, “For what satisfaction it may give you, Mister Upton, I very much fear that may already have happened.”

IT WOULD HAVE
taken a far stauncher man than I am to refuse the order von Metz gave me. Trying not to look upward for the marksmen, I took a deep breath, and began, “When I had purchased new shirts for this journey, I caught the train for Dover where a man who looked like a professor boarded the same compartment and gave me new instructions and tickets for my travels, saying that Mister Vickers, in effect, did not trust me.” I managed to appear ill-used as I reported this. I continued on to the attempt to drown me as it happened in Calais.

“Who was this man, do you know?” von Metz asked me. Until then I had never truly known what it was to actually shiver in my boots. Yet if pressed, I could not have described what it was that so frightened me about von Metz, for superficially he looked like nothing more than a prosperous, somewhat arrogant man who might have been a judge or perhaps a fellow in the world of business, like Krupp or one of those.

“I had no chance to ask him anything; I was drugged. He was trying to drown me.” It was no effort to sound ill-used at this moment. “I do not like to think what would have happened to me if he had not liked the answers I gave him.”

“How came he to know where you were?” Von Metz made this question an accusation, one that I flinched to hear.

“How should I know?” I answered with more sharpness of tone than was prudent. “He came into the bath and shoved me under the water, didn’t he?”

“You say he did.” Von Metz was not convinced of my blamelessness at this moment.

“And someone searched my room and my bag while all that was going on. Vickers didn’t say anything about this kind of ... trouble.” That was the least I could call it. “I would have asked for better wages if I had known there would be men like that after me.”

“All right,” said von Metz. “Continue.”

I explained about how I had searched for any losses in my things and had only been able to complain of the loss of a razor. I made my complaint to this man as well, claiming I had purchased it, nearly new and toffy, and resented its loss. I then described my journey to Paris, remarking that I had a pretty traveling companion for that leg of the trip, but volunteered no additional information about Miss Penelope Gatspy. I thought that it might be dangerous for her if these men knew of her, and she was already at great risk, if her tale was true; if it was not, then I needed to be more circumspect than ever, for there was no telling what her mission might be, or how the Brotherhood would answer her for it. Next I accounted for my night in Paris, and then described the events after my arrival in Luxembourg, including the remark I overheard on the cliff when I was attacked, calling von Metz a devil. The memory of those two men dying jolted me.

“How pleasant to be understood by one’s enemies, so much more so than the approbation of one’s friends,” said von Metz with a degree of inner satisfaction any cat might envy. “I am gratified those hypocrites have not forgotten me entirely.”

I did not like to think what such remarks might portend. “The host there at the inn let me take a new coat, seeing as mine was ruined; there were plenty in storage, and the host said he could spare one,” I went on, doing my best to maintain my composure. “It was a nice one,” I went on, rubbing the lapel in approval.

“A pity that Sanglot wasn’t there,” said Herr Dortmunder to von Metz.

“Yes. He should have refused his sister’s importunities until this matter was taken care of.” Von Metz came up and looked at my face again. “How badly were you injured?”

“Took a couple nasty cuts and got knocked about,” I said, offering my hand and wrist as proof; for some reason I did not want to have to tell him about the more serious wound. “Worst was the tears in my clothes.”

“It must have been quite a battle, if you were able to defeat two such clever assassins,” said von Metz with a bit too much speculation for my satisfaction.

“A man lives by his wits long enough, he learns a thing or two,” I said with all the bravado I supposed this von Metz would expect from one such as Jeffries. I did my best to put a good face on it, hoping that my queasiness did not show. “Not that it wasn’t a near thing, because it was. They knew what they were doing, those two. If I hadn’t had some luck going for me, I should have been put paid to, and no one the wiser.”

“It does seem that you have had to endure a great deal on our account,” said von Metz with the kind of sympathy that made me squirm. “We will have to remedy that in some manner.”

I have rarely encountered so soulless a smile as his. I could say nothing.

Herr Dortmunder folded his arms to let me know he did not believe me. “A shame about the coat,” he allowed.

“That it is,” I agreed promptly, and continued my explanation of my changing trains.

“You have been asking for telegrams everywhere you stop,” said von Metz in a speculative manner. “Why is that? You’ve sent some, as well.”

“To my solicitor, feckless lot that he is, wanting money before raising a finger to pen a writ,” I told him, appearing to sulk. “He’s supposed to be looking into the trust I was left. It’s got conditions in it that are ... a hardship on me and my family.” I nodded, confirming Jeffries’ own low opinion of the legal profession. “I have a wife and children, but I can’t afford to bring them to England until my father’s trust is wound up so I have my hands on the ready.” I had repeated this story often enough that it was beginning to seem real to me, in an absurd way. I did my best to look stricken without intending that either man be convinced.

“No wonder you are willing to do these things,” said von Metz, as if this were the first he had heard of it, though I was reasonably certain it was not. “How inconvenient this arrangement must be for you, given what you seek to accomplish.” His crocodile smile was intended to show sympathy—without success.

“I have to get that money, and that lawyer won’t act if I don’t keep at him. He’s like all that breed,” I temporized. “Too ready to take your money, and too slow to get the work done right.”

“Alas, it was ever thus,” said von Metz with a look in his icy eyes that made me sorry for any man having to represent him in court. “Well, when this is over, you should be able to pay the whole of it.”

“How do you mean?” I asked.

“Considering what you have endured thus far, it is appropriate that the sum Vickers promised you be increased. You may telegraph your solicitor that his payment is assured, and inform him that you will contact him again once you return to England.” His smile made the absolute order more horrible, for it implied the gratification the man would have in making me pay for disobedience. I looked at him and felt my viscera go cold.

“If I do that, how am I to know he’s doing his job, then?” I demanded, and heard my voice three notes higher than usual.

“You will find a way, good fellow,” said von Metz. “If ten pounds are sent to him as an installment on his eventual fee, he will no doubt be pressed into action on your behalf.” He came toward me; I took an involuntary step back. “I do not want your attention diverted from your work for us, Herr Jeffries. Given what you have said today, it is apparent to me that we have cause to be concerned, and I must be certain you will not allow yourself any distractions from what Mister Vickers has demanded you do.”

I did not like that word
demanded,
but I made myself shrug. “If that’s what you want and you’re willing to pay more for it, then I’ll manage. I’ll notify him of the money coming, as you said, and then mum’s the word until the work is done.” I found it difficult to breathe.

“Very good.” Von Metz took a turn about the room. “I don’t know if Mister Vickers made it clear to you why your work is so important. This Scotsman you are to become acquainted with holds the key to some negotiations that are most important to me and my organization. For some years my Brotherhood and I have watched while fools determined the fate of our country. Yes, fools! And what better example of it than King Ludwig, who seeks to build nothing but fantastic palaces; and his ministers permit it. Such men have failed to see my value and foresight. I have plans for a brilliant future for Europe, grander than Napoleon ever conceived. I am an incisive leader who is not limited by ordinary conventions.”

I had expected much ambition from the head of the Brotherhood, but I had not supposed the man would be completely self-aggrandizing as von Metz was. I lowered my head and muttered something to the effect that the times were uncertain in so many places. I wanted to appear impressed, for less than that might cause the man to turn on me. I had a moment when I had to suppress an urge to laugh at his vainglorious ravings. But I knew from what Mycroft Holmes had told me and what I had now observed for myself: von Metz was in deadly earnest, no matter how mad his vision.

He continued on with little regard to my emotions. “The Brotherhood knows that it will take very little before the entire ridiculous cobbling called ‘peace’ collapses. The buffoons attempting to hold all together are desperate. War between Serbia and Bulgaria, so recently freed from the bondage of the Turks, and so naive, can be the spark that puts all Europe to flame. Then I, who have been ready for this, will make myself an alternative to chaos.
I
,
and my Brotherhood, will ascend the heights by the acclaim of the people.”

“But the Brotherhood is ... secret,” I said, wanting to show I was paying attention to him.

“It was factored into my plans. Certain of the mad Ludwig’s ministers have been brought into our ranks, so that I am sure of their support. We might have struck within the month had it not been for the intervention of England.” He spoke the name of my country as if it were despicable. “But the Brotherhood is not daunted by the activities of busy little men. There are those who can be made to dance to our tune. To that end, we seek what the Scotsman has.” His smile reminded me of nothing so much as the gaping maw of a deadly serpent. So you see, I must have your full cooperation if I am to succeed in my aims. The King is tolerant of us for the moment, but he cannot be depended upon for anything but building palaces and castles. If he should take a notion that he is more in tune with the Golden Lodge, we could be exposed. Which I would not like, as I am sure you must appreciate.”

I appreciated more than that: I realized that he would not let me live with the information he had given me. I also realized that he would have me killed when I ceased to be necessary to him.

Herr Dortmunder heard this out with a faint sign of approval. He was determined to impress me with his knowledge and close ties to von Metz, for reasons that troubled me greatly.

“There is a difficulty,” said von Metz. “There are those in the British government who would like to stop me. They have much riding on this foolish treaty. And there is the Golden Lodge, as well.” He said this casually, but I knew he was weighing my reactions. Any slip now would be very dangerous.

I stared at him. “The Golden Lodge?” I repeated, hoping I sounded as foolish as I felt.

“Yes. They used to be part of the Brotherhood, but in the last decade they have split off from us, going on their own for reasons that are as reprehensible as they are dangerous. They have declared themselves the enemies of the Brotherhood, pledged to bring all our efforts to ruin. Those men in Luxembourg were certainly with the Golden Lodge. None of the spymasters in Europe are aware of me, let alone of the Golden Lodge.” He scowled and made a gesture with his hands that suggested he wanted to strangle the life out of all of them.

“Whoa there; this is getting too deep for me,” I protested. “Brotherhoods and Golden Lodges. What next?”

“Very little. The two are ample,” said von Metz.

“That cove in Calais—was he one of them Golden Lodgers?” I hated the question as much as I needed the answer.

“He might have been,” said von Metz. “He may also have been sent by the British government, or—”

I dared to interrupt him. “Not that one. He had a strong German accent. Like Herr Dortmunder.”

“Ah,” said von Metz as if he had gained understanding from my words. He paced a few steps away, and then turned back, as if those few steps had given him wisdom. “Then he may well be of the Golden Lodge.” He paused. “Or it may be that there are men in Bavaria who have learned more than they should have and are trying to keep this treaty protected. I would anticipate such actions from them, given their determination to keep the treaty a secret.”

I heard him out without satisfaction. “And what am I going to do about it?” I asked sharply. “It’s my neck that’s on the line. How am I going to watch out for these Golden Lodgers and half the civil servants in Germany? And deal with a King who’s dicked in the nob?”

“You will not concern yourself with these issues, Mister Jeffries,” said von Metz, menace infusing his simple order.

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered.

Von Metz shot an angry glance in my direction. “I did not think we had employed such a coward,” he said casually.

“Not a coward,” I corrected him. “A cove what’s careful of his skin.” And given all that had happened in the last three days, I had more than sufficient reason to be.