The Devil's Grin: Illustrated Edition (An Anna Kronberg Thriller Book 1) (27 page)

And, without thinking, I closed my eyes and pressed my face into his palm. He froze, as did time and our surroundings. All that was audible was the rumbling of my heart and the slow hiss of breaths being taken. He moved closer then. For a moment, I believed he would pull me into an embrace. His hands went behind my back, the manacles clicked and fell to the floor.

He cleared his throat. ‘You broke Nicholson’s nose.’

‘I identified his footprint.’

He straightened up then, about to speak, when someone knocked and called, ‘The brougham is ready, Mr Holmes.’

‘Come,’ he said, picking up the manacles again. ‘I’ll have to put them back on for the time being. I’m to transfer you to London, Yard’s main quarters.’

I nodded and placed my hands behind my back.

— twenty-three —

T
he horses kicked the ground impatiently when Sherlock walked me over to the carriage and shoved me in. The driver flicked the whip; the brougham made a lurch and smashed my back and cuffed wrists against the wall behind me.
 

A short moment later, my tingling hands were freed and Sherlock sat down opposite from me.
 

‘Officially, I’m on my way to the Metropolitan Police headquarters to turn you in,’ he began. ‘Unofficially, I, Lestrade and another twenty men will take down the other members of the Club. The ones residing at Cambridge will be arrested by the local police force there.’

‘Hmm… I figured that much,’ I mumbled, rubbing my red-rimmed wrists. ‘But how the deuce did you plan to escape? My presence was more or less coincidental. They could have done without me today.’

He waved his hand and snorted. ‘There were so many holes in their security system that I must wonder why they chose Broadmoor as a location. After all, several breakouts have been reported in the past years. It’s common knowledge that the mortar in the brick walls is soft, that bars can be dismounted. And even without all these possibilities,’ here he threw up his hands, ‘the guards, for Christ’s sake! They carry revolvers so carelessly, I could have snatched them almost every time these mindless men passed by!’

Obviously, he hadn’t waited for my arrival or my help. Although I felt somewhat useless, I smiled down at my hands, happy and relieved that all was over. Well, almost.

‘What about the man at the Dundee School of Medicine?’ I asked.

‘Him, I could not find,’ he answered. ‘But it appears that this case is much more complex than we had believed. I wondered for a while now about a possible involvement of the government. You remember that Standrincks is paid through governmental sources?’

I raised my eyebrows.

‘Of course you do. So I went to visit my brother—’

‘You have a brother?’ I interrupted, and he answered with a shrug.

‘Mycroft told me—’

‘Mycroft? By Jove! Sherlock, Mycroft — what were your parents thinking?’
 

He stared at me, wide-eyed.

‘My apologies. Pray proceed.’ I felt rather hot in my face all of a sudden.

After an indignant harrumph, he said, ‘My dear brother is working for the government, but likes to believe he
is
the government. Sometimes I do
think there is a grain of truth in that. Regardless, Mycroft didn’t know of any such activities.’

‘You believe him?’

‘Yes. He is, I fancy, my most trustworthy source when it comes to such things.’

‘Any clue on how the Club’s research was financed?’

‘But of course!’ said he, his eyes lighting up and energy crackling in his voice. ‘What do you think was I doing these long weeks? Sitting on my hindquarters, eating porridge and picking oakum? The Club’s
supporters were lawyers, bankers, and even men working for the government, but apparently without their superiors’ knowledge. Your Superintendent Rowlands helped paying their bills, too. It’s a rather long list of names.’

‘How many?’ I asked cautiously.

‘Fifty-four.’

My hand involuntarily clapped over my mouth, my mind began racing and putting my own small puzzle pieces next to the ones he had provided. The picture grew darker…

Sherlock interrupted my thoughts. ‘I do believe, though, that the Club
reached even further than that. Unfortunately, we have no information whatsoever on the Dundee part. The question remains how far their net extended.’

‘But the most important question is
why
,’ I answered.

‘I thought that was clear from the beginning?’

Slowly, I shook my head. ‘I believe the vaccine tests were either pretence or only part of their goal. I dare say the latter.’

‘What goal, precisely?’ He leaned forward.

‘You asked me how I got Bowden to trust me.’

He nodded. I dropped my gaze to the muddy tips of my shoes; images of the dying woman and my hand holding the ether-soaked cloth invaded my mind.

‘I had this…insane idea,’ I said quietly, ‘about using deadly germs for warfare.’

Sherlock sat erect like a stick, all tension and awareness.
 

‘Bowden’s eyes lit up. But not in surprise. He knew.’

‘He was already working on it?’ His voice was brisk with shock.

‘I cannot tell. But the plan existed, I am absolutely certain.’

We stared at each other and, after a while, I added softly, ‘The crime is not solved.’

‘No,’ he said, slamming his back against the brougham’s wall and closing his eyes. Then his throat produced a deep growl. ‘Someone is at the centre of all this. We will find him in due course.’

I noticed the
we.
Some other day, it would have possibly made me proud. ‘I will leave London,’ I answered quietly.

His eyes opened and he pulled himself up again. After some consideration, he said, ‘Yes, it’s sensible. It might be the only reasonable thing for you to do. Otherwise, you would be bait.’

I gazed out of the window, feeling empty.

‘That is not the reason for you to leave?’ he asked doubtfully.

I shook my head.

‘You sent me a letter the day before you fell ill with cholera.’

I nodded.

‘You euthanised her?’

I nodded again.

‘I will not arrest you for that!’ he cried out, throwing his hands up as though I had said something utterly ridiculous.

‘It doesn’t matter. Prison or no prison, it doesn’t change what I feel. I killed the woman. I should have tried to help her.’

‘Hmm.’ He narrowed his eyes in consideration. ‘If carrying a weakened or even unconscious woman out of a room and past several guards would not have raised suspicion and would not have resulted in her
and
you being killed, then I guess your thinking isn’t as illogical as it appears.’ His gaze softened. ‘I don’t believe you could have saved her. Even if you had, they would have found another cholera victim.’

‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘They would have found another one for
me
. She was delivered to me, and no one else.’

‘It is ridiculous to blame yourself!’

‘What is it to you?’ I snarled.

‘So you decide to run away from yourself,’ he declared with spite.

‘Yes I do. And from a corrupt medical establishment that abandons an entire sex. I run away from the man at the centre of the Club, from the police, and…’ I forced my throat to unfold again, ‘…and from you.’

His eyes flickered. He looked surprised and hurt. I held on to my hands so as not to grab his to comfort him.
 

‘I run away from you because I cannot live next to you while not living
with
you. Whenever I stoke your emotional side, I seem to hurt and weaken you, and I am very sorry for that.’

‘You must understand that I have no tendencies to romanticism.’ His voice sounded as though he had swallowed glue.

‘I know who you are,’ I whispered.

Now it was he who stared out of the window. He seemed to argue with himself. After a while, he asked, ‘How have you planned your escape?’

‘Well, quite simply, I will overpower you.’ I smirked and saw the corners of his mouth twitch in response.

‘Do you plan to hide in St Giles? I don’t believe it’s—’

‘No, you are right, it’s not safe. I have a place far away from London.’

‘Where?’

‘I will not tell you.’

He waved his hand impatiently. ‘You know my abilities!’

‘Don’t waste your time. You won’t find me.’

I had bought the cottage using a different name. Nothing would link my old identity to my new home.

‘That is ridiculous!’

‘No, it isn’t. As long as the greatest detective cannot find me, no one will.’ I didn’t mention that, if I did tell him where I lived, I would wait for him to walk through my cottage door — every single day. My brain knew he wouldn’t, but my heart disagreed.

Silence fell again and, after a long while, I added, ‘Promise me that you’ll place an advertisement into
The Times
, asking for Caitrin Mae, when this case is either solved or your life is in danger. I’ll find you then.’

I noticed his smirk and added, ‘No, that is not the name I used to buy the place, nor the one I’ll use in hiding. I just made it up.’

His eyes turned dark again; he gave me a single nod and then turned to observe the countryside. His jaws were working.
 

Suddenly, with quite a lot of energy that only a good plan can bring, he faced me again and stated merrily, ‘I think it is time for violence.’

‘What?’

‘It is not
what —
it is
excuse me!
’ He rose from his seat.
 

I could not place the playful look he had in his eyes.

‘Your escape has to appear authentic,’ he explained before grabbing both my shoulders, lifting me up, and slamming me against the cab’s window. I cried out in surprise.

‘My apologies,’ he whispered as he lunged to the door and bolted it. Then he threw himself against it and onto the floor, bellowing like a plumber on too much gin. Finally, my brain clicked and I dropped down next to him, grinning and cursing. We rolled around, kicking and hitting the walls and seats like two kids playing war. The hansom made a lurch as the horses reared and changed their slow gait into a gallop.

‘What the devil?’ the cabby shouted, while trying to get the animals back under his control. Sherlock, who had tried to stand up, lost balance and fell onto his back with one arm pinned awkwardly underneath him. I pounced and clamped him down with my knees on either side of his ribcage.
 

‘To hell with the police!’ I screamed at the top of my lungs while maintaining a firm grip on his trapped arm. His eyes flared open in surprise.

‘Give up, Mr Holmes!’ I bellowed.

‘Never!’ he barked and grabbed a fistful of my waistcoat. One button popped.

‘For your own sake!’ I screamed, slamming my other hand down next to his face. That seemed to cause amusement. He probably thought I did indeed try to overpower him. Well, maybe I did.

‘You, villain, shall not escape justice!’ he roared and shook me by the collar.

‘I like you this way,’ I said softly and bent down.
 

His body went limp, the fist holding my waistcoat offered no resistance, and his pupils widened in shock. I held his gaze as my lips touched the corner of his mouth, asking for permission. He gave me a feeble shove as his eyes lost focus, his head tilted a little, and his warm breath caressed my face. Eyelids fluttered shut, as softly as a bird’s wings. Only then did I kiss him. His lips felt like silk.
 

All of a sudden, my silly heart left my chest to live in his from this day forward. I wondered whether he noticed the additional weight.

Two metallic clicks pulled my mouth away from his and I spotted the guard’s revolver in his hand. Aghast, I gazed into his face. His eyes were on fire, but I didn’t retreat. I bent down again and touched his lips a last time as he raised his free arm to fire four shots through the cab’s roof.
 

The horses bolted, the cabby shouted, and we were joggled about like chocolate candy in a box. Soon, the vehicle came to a halt; the driver jumped off and ran away, screaming for help.

Sherlock unfolded his protective embrace, shoved me up onto the seat, and rose to his feet in one fluid move.

‘Out,’ he snarled, holding the door open for me.

‘Very well. I drive.’ I climbed onto the driver’s seat and cracked the whip when he slammed the door shut.

I couldn’t help but smile, despite the bitter aftertaste of our kiss. How formidable the spectrum of emotions that can unfold in one single moment! Utter bliss to tearful downpour upon the gain and loss of someone precious.

I rubbed my eyes and gave the horses yet another good flick. I needed wind in my face.

After we had gone far out of the cabby’s vision, Sherlock climbed up and sat down next to me.

‘Where did you learn to drive a horse carriage?’ he demanded, wearing a gruff expression.

‘We had two horses at home. Besides, it’s not that complicated, really,’ I answered with a thin voice, not at all eager to engage in distractive small talk.

‘That was far from appropriate for a woman of your social standing.’
 

‘Beg your pardon? You are the last person I would expect to care for social standards. Besides, I never pretended to be a woman of the higher classes, and you seem to ignore the fact that, as a woman who looks like a man, I have no social standing whatsoever. By kissing you, all I may have rattled is your composure. But you already seem to be getting yourself back together without much effort. In but one day you’ll be your old self,
Mr Holmes!
’