PINNACLE BOOKS NEW YORK (35 page)

But
then, the memory of my old regiment came to me.
You're
spooked, Watson
, I thought,
and
mouthing ineffable twaddle to
yourself. Three men
died today.
More than three hundred spilled blood
in
the fatal battle of Maiwand, yours among it.
More
than three thousand went down in the second
Afghan
war.
The cup stopped shaking, and I
laced
my coffee with a spot of Irish to
mask its acrid
taste.

It
was then that I heard, in the complete silence, the downstairs door
open. My first thought was Lightfoot, the late Moriarty's number one
execu
tioner. My second was my
Smith-Webley upstairs.
But then only
Holmes and I, along with Mrs.
Hudson,
had keys to the street door; and the
cunning
dead-bolt lock had been set tonight, for I
did
it myself. But Holmes was asleep in his cham
ber,
or was he? I had not seen him go to bed.
Nonetheless,
my eyes went to the Colt pistol that I had acquired under such
strange circumstances on
this day; but
there was naught but spent cartridges
in
it.

I
quickly ignited the lamp beside me, raising the wick, and then
crossed to the fireplace to stand by the poker.

There
was no sound on the seventeen steps
leading
upward to our first floor chambers, but the
cat-footed
Holmes wouldn't make any. I spoke out,
and
my voice had a slight tremor to it.

"Holmes?"

There
was the sudden sound of key in lock and
the
door swept open to reveal my hawk-like friend,
who
was chuckling.

"The
lamplight put me on the alert, Watson, for I
noted
it under the crack of our door. I was standing
without,
pondering my next move, when I heard
the
welcome sound of your voice."

Suddenly
his expression changed, and he re
garded
me anxiously. "Is something amiss, for this
is
an unusual hour for you."

"I
could not sleep," I said, having no intention of
telling
Holmes of the defeatist tentacles that had
menaced
me with their debilitating embrace before
I
beat them back.

"Well
then, since you're awake and I have not
tried
to sleep, let us be off."

I
suppressed a groan at this, determined to be as
staunch
a companion as I had ever been.
"Where
were you, by the way?" I said, crossing
toward
the stairs.

"Anticipation,
Watson, for I'll not be caught short
again
as I was but recently in this very room. Look
for
a possible alternative and provide against it.
The
first rule of criminal investigation."

I'd
heard that before, and as before, it told me
nothing.
At the foot of the stairs leading to our bedchambers, I paused, then
retraced my steps to take the holstered gun from the bookshelf. There
were some boxer cartridges in my rolltop
above
that might be the right caliber.

We
caught an almost deserted train out of Paddington that Holmes
referred to as the "red-eye
special,"
and I slept most of the way to Gloucester.

When
we alighted at the Fenley station, dawn
had
not yet begun to stain the eastern horizon and there was a veritable
symphony of the bird sounds
that
presaged its coming.

Standing
on the dark station platform, immobile as a block of granite
and quite as solid-looking, was
the
figure of Wakefield Orloff.
So
,
I thought,
the
security
agent has preceded us.
No wonder
Holmes
seized the opportunity to leave
early. Had he been
conferring with his
brother, Mycroft, around the
witching
hour?

Orloff
greeted us and led the way through deserted streets of the
village to the inn. There were
no other
lights showing in Fenley, yet behind the
curtains
in the Red Grouse I detected illumination. A thought that I had
previously dismissed came to
mind again
and was reinforced when we entered
the
establishment. The front room was not only
illuminated
but populated as well. Five men, in addition to the innkeeper and his
wife, were in
evidence—sipping tea
and munching sandwiches
made available
by the lady. I had observed that the
inn
was very well managed, but this was ridicu
lous.
Unless my previous thought was well founded
and
the place served as a headquarters for
Mycroft's
people. It had to be such, for there was no
surprise
at our arrival. The five men, strangers all,
shared
a sameness that I recognized. Reasonably
young,
they had a fit look about them and were inconspicuously dressed. One
would have had to
guess as to their
business and been dissatisfied at
the
conclusion arrived at. Surely their coats were
reversible,
for I had seen Holmes use that trick.

I
accepted a spot of tea. Holmes surveyed the
scene
and nodded at Orloff, as though satisfied with
arrangements.

"How
do we do it?" asked the security agent.

"We'll
go now while it's still dark. You and your
men
take the main house and stables. Let's not
have
an alarm from some awakened groom."

"And
you?"

"There
is an annex to the main house where
wood
work and such might be done if one had a
need
for it. Watson and I will take a look there, then
join
you."

One
of the inconspicuous men, at a signal from
Orloff,
disappeared by the front door and I sus
pected
our transportation was being arranged.

When
we left the Red Grouse shortly afterward,
two
closed carriages were pulled up in front.
Good
heavens
,
I thought.
Orloff has brought an
army.
But
then
we didn't know how many we were going against.

Orloff
rode with Holmes and myself in the first
carriage
and the trip down the river road was not a
longish
one, as I had noted previously. When we all
disembarked
from the vehicles, I saw that Holmes
had
miscalculated slightly for there was a first light
that
revealed the substantial mansion we were
interested
in. Despite the predawn hour, there were
lights
and indications of activity within the build
ing.

Orloff
shot a glance at Holmes. "This tears it."

"Same
plan," replied Holmes crisply. "It's impor
tant
that no one slip away."

"A
bit like that trap we sprung on Baker Street,"
observed
the security agent. His men began to race
to
positions around the estate.

"And
for rather the same reasons." Holmes mo
tioned
to me and we started up the drive, quickly
moving
to the close-cropped lawn to take advan
tage
of the trees on the grounds. It was still
sufficiently
dark so that we could close in on the buildings without arousing the
attention of anyone
within. Close by the
main house, Holmes paused to
take stock.
There was no evidence of Orloff or his
men,
and I pictured them encircling the place and then closing in. What
they intended to do with any
gardeners
or servants they came across, I could not
imagine.

I
indicated the lights within. "What has them
stirring
so early?" I asked.

"Three
men went to Essex yesterday and there's
no
word from them. It may have shaken Hananish's
confidence
a bit. It's well that we are here when we
are."

The
sleuth indicated the annex he had men
tioned,
and I followed as he moved in a half trot
from
the front of the mansion to the side. The area
that
had caught his retentive eye was but one story,
abutting
the main building. Close on, I could hear
some
movement within; but there were no win
dows,
so we moved to the end of the building and
around
it. There was one window there, which
proved
unrevealing. The dark interior we made out
proved
to be a small storeroom with lumber
stacked
in it, along with gardening tools. The side away from the driveway
and well-tended grounds was the building's actual front. Now we saw
light from a window and crouched beside it, carefully peering in.
Over Holmes' shoulder I spotted one
man
seated under a wheel chandelier, its four lights
providing
bright illumination for the table he was
working
at. It looked like he was dismantling some
sort
of scales arrangement. There were saws and carpentry tools aplenty,
and the place had a well-
swept look.

Satisfied,
Holmes drew back and then hunched
over,
almost on hands and knees, to pass below the
window
frame toward the door in evidence beyond.
With
some difficulty, I patterned my movements
after
his. By the door, however, I advanced a
thought
with gestures. Extracting my Smith-
Webley
from my coat pocket, I transferred it to my
left
hand. The door was not a heavy one, and I
judged
it was not locked. Moving to its other side, I
indicated
to Holmes that I could smash it open
with
ease and we could enter together. He indi
cated
that this plan was as good as any. As I
stepped
forward with purpose, it occurred to me
that
the sleuth was not armed and our unified front
served
no purpose; but the plan was in action now
and
was, I recalled, favored by better constables everywhere. My heel
smashed at the door, which
sprang open
under the impact; and I was in the room with my gun pointed at the
man at the
workbench. Holmes was at my
right side. The man
under my sights was
completely surprised; and I was congratulating myself on a
workmanlike job when my left hand, with the extended and menacing
revolver, caught a terrible whack from a stout
piece
of wood in the hands of a pasty-looking fellow
who
had been in the vicinity of the door. The
Smith-Webley
dropped from my grasp, and my assailant kicked it toward the table,
shielding his
companion.

"Blimey,"
he said, "we's got visitors an' such an'
early
hour."

I
recognized the voice, for it was the man who had dragged me into the
carriage outside the Red
Grouse.

His
companion had whipped out a long-barreled
handgun,
with which he was covering Holmes. I
was
bent over, my left wrist pressed to my side in
anguish,
but my blood was boiling. Almost without
thought,
my right hand passed under my coat to
the
holster affixed to my belt; and then the Colt gun
was
in my hand. As I started to rise from my
crouch,
I began to press on the trigger gently in
preparation
for a shot, but, dear heaven, the
weapon
took charge. It had been altered by some
master
gunsmith, and its action was as sensitive
and
skittish as a village maiden receiving her first kiss. It roared
before I had a mind to fire, and
continued
to do so. The first shot smashed the
revolver
from the man's hand, and as I staggered
back,
the second shot separated the chandelier
from
the ceiling and it dropped, smashing him with
frightening
force. My pasty-faced friend made a lunge for the Smith-Webley on the
floor only to
have it jump from his
grasp, and there was the
eerie whine of
a ricochet. My fourth shot blew the
heel
off his shoe.