The Female Charm (6 page)

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Authors: Amelia Price

Tags: #romance, #detective, #modern, #sherlock holmes, #international mystery, #amelia price, #amelia jones, #mycrfot holmes

BOOK: The Female Charm
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“Let me call up
and see if we can find him,” she said once she'd gathered
herself.

“Thank you,” he
replied and tucked the ID away. It had at least done its job.

He listened to the
woman's end of a telephone conversation for several minutes as she
tried to track down his reporter. Then she dialled another number
and put her hand over the receiver.

“He's definitely
not in the building, but I'm trying his mobile to see if I can get
him to come back.”

Mycroft frowned.
He'd assumed the reporter was just avoiding him, not actually away
from the building. It was the most likely probability by far, but
even the smallest odds could result in a surprise.

After several more
attempts at dialling, the receptionist left a message on the mobile
phone of the reporter asking him to urgently contact her and then
gave Mycroft an apologetic look.

He pulled out a
business card from his trouser pocket and handed it to her.

“Have him call me
as soon as he gets back in touch.” Without waiting for a response,
Mycroft left the building and hurried through the rain back to his
car.

“Where are we
going next, sir?” Daniels asked, once he was back in the driver's
seat.

“I think there's a
café in the town here. Take us there, please, Daniels.”

“It's where I set
up the meeting for you at three,” he replied.

“He wasn't there?”
Amelia asked a moment later.

“No. We'll have to
wait, but I can still teach you a thing or two before you have to
go back to Bath.”

 

 

Chapter 6

Amelia tried not
to show her surprise as she stepped into café 91 in Lockerbie's
small town centre. Myron was taking time out of his schedule to
directly teach her once more. She knew this was exactly what she'd
asked for, but it hadn't felt like her lessons were going well
enough to merit this much effort on his part.

He ordered them
both tea, paying for it then and there, and then they found a small
table tucked at the back of the building, from where they could
both see the rest of the customers without much effort. As she sat
down she noticed the receipt he placed on the table. For some
bizarre reason, it said 'café 17' on it instead of the '91' on the
outside of the building.

She blinked back
her shock as her mind finally caught up. For some reason Myron
wanted her to notice the number, but before she could mention it he
whisked up the receipt, tucked it into his pocket and gave her his
usual fake smile.

“Why don't you
tell me what you've seen in here?” he said, not giving her the time
to say anything else. She went to look at the people nearby, but he
stopped her. “No, Amelia. Look at me and tell me what you've
already
seen.”

She gulped as she
tried to remember everything she'd observed in the last few
minutes, but under his intense gaze she felt too unravelled to
process the information. Trying to calm herself, she looked down at
the table.

The waitress
rescued her mind from its turmoil by bringing over a tray and
placing a large pot of tea and two cups on the table.

“Come on, Amelia.
It shouldn't take this long,” he said as soon as they were alone
again. Knowing she just had to take the plunge and suffer any
admonishment, she took a deep breath and opened her mouth.

“By the door,
there's a couple of teenagers. On their first date... Or perhaps
their second,” she said as her mind began to re-imagine what she'd
seen only moments before. “I don't think he's as interested in her
as she'd like. Either that or something has him distracted.”

“The latter,”
Myron said. “Did you see what?”

“No. I was
distracted by the toddler, getting angry over their chip having too
much ketchup on it.” She bit down on her lip and glanced at his
face but he didn't look too angry at her admission. He sighed and
gave her a disapproving look, so she tried to look apologetic.

“You should learn
to take in more at once and not let one sound distract you from
focusing on everything until you have all the information you
need.”

She nodded and
took another deep breath. Myron was nothing if not intimidating,
and it still seemed a little unreal that she was taking lessons
from him.

Over the next
twenty minutes she described everything she'd noticed and what it
told her about the people. It wasn't as much as her second attempt
at the hotel in London but it was better than her first. Each time
she missed something, Myron filled her in on the details, also not
looking to verify anything. By the end, Amelia sat back with her
mind blown.

“I can't believe
you learnt all that from that short space of time and while you
were ordering the tea,” she said. “You're amazing.”

Myron blinked a
couple of times and then finally stopped looking at her to stare at
his teacup. It didn't take her more than a few seconds to realise
her praise of him had made him uncomfortable.

“What made you say
yes to me?” she asked to make sure no awkward silence developed. He
didn't answer right away, evidently taking a moment to think about
it.

“Curiosity,” he
said, eventually. “Even I can learn new things. I wanted to know
what it felt like to have someone to teach.”

“Surely people
have wanted to learn from you before?”

“Some have, yes.
My brother has taught another, but I've never done so.”

“I figured
Sebastian had. He occasionally mentions that he had someone who
used to help him with the odd case.”

“Most people are
far too annoying or stupid to be in a room with for more than a few
minutes. I've never found anyone I can tolerate long enough to
instruct.”

“Then I'm honoured
that you're teaching me. I really do hope you'll keep doing
it.”

“Yes, well, you've
learnt enough for today. It's time you went home.”

She sighed, not
wanting to leave now she was comfortable with Myron but she knew
there would be no arguing, and there was only one more train that
would leave in time to get her all the way back to Bath. She'd come
a long way and knew when she set out that it would only give her a
few hours with the eldest Holmes.

Obeying his
command, she stood and gathered her things. When he made no move
himself, she paused.

“Daniels will take
you to the train station. I'll stay here. I don't want to miss the
opportunity to meet this reporter. Go on, be off with you.”

She smiled. It was
just like him to be brusque with her now that her latest lesson was
over.

“Until next time,
Mr Holmes.” She gave him a slight curtsey and noticed it brought a
slight twinkle to his eyes to see it. Not wanting to spoil the last
moment, she hastily left the café and went back out into the rain.
Immediately Daniels was there with an umbrella.

“He's told me to
go the train station,” she explained, but it seemed Daniels already
knew. He nodded, escorted her to the back of the car, keeping her
dry every step of the way, and got in himself. She marvelled at how
efficient Myron's chauffeur was before letting herself become lost
in her thoughts.

Dumfries was the
nearest train station, and the car only pulled up outside with just
enough time for Amelia to dash inside. She glanced back to see if
Daniels was still there, but he'd already got into the car and was
pulling away. A taxi had come up behind, and a tall man wearing a
dark fur hat got out. Their eyes met for just a moment and then he
was focusing on his own direction.

As Amelia went
through the ticket barriers she wondered if Myron had encouraged
someone to follow her, but then pushed it from her mind. If he had,
she would see the man again.

The train arrived
at the platform just as she did, and she wondered if Myron had
timed her leaving so she would get there just as the train arrived.
Sebastian had a similar ability of knowing exactly when the trains
would be where they were meant to be, and it would probably run in
the family. She made a mental note to ask one of them how they did
it at some point.

It wouldn't be
long until Myron had his meeting with the reporter, if they weren't
already talking, so she knew better than to ask right away. He
wouldn't want the interruption and had already stated that her
lessons were over for the day.

She also made a
mental note to thank Sebastian for his interference. Most women
wouldn't find getting up before dawn to spend almost six hours
travelling for less than three hours with the person they liked a
good Valentine's Day, but she'd enjoyed every minute with Myron and
couldn't think of a better way to have spent the time. She had even
realised the rose must actually be from him.

Four times since
she'd woken up the number seventeen had crept up where it
shouldn't, and one of those was the man giving her the rose. He'd
said he had seventeen of them going unwanted. It was typical to
give twelve roses, not seventeen. It could only mean that it was
part of her current lesson and related to the clue she'd found in
the geocache the day before.

The other three
had all been unexpected accounts of the number, the first at the
train station. One sign had shown the departure time of her train
wrong. Then Daniels had said something about seventeen when he
wouldn't normally have been so specific and Myron wouldn't have
asked for the information, and finally the receipt at the café.
Although she had no idea how he'd managed two of those, she was
convinced it was a message from him. At the very least, she was
sure it was meant for her to notice.

Once she was
settled in her seat, she reached into her handbag and pulled out
the little notebook she'd been using to write down his lessons. It
contained all the translations of the coded messages he'd given
her, as well as her thoughts after any conversations they'd had. As
she opened it up to the first empty page, a small letter with the
usual red seal fell out. She stifled a small laugh as she realised
Myron had slipped another message into it at some point during the
day.

A grin flashed
across her face as she opened up the small envelope and pulled out
the piece of paper inside.

 

C: 111=>13
159=>105 132=>26 341=>18 872=>37 117=>?

 

Amelia exhaled at
the numbers before her. No immediate pattern jumped out at her and
she instinctively knew this wasn't going to be a quick puzzle to
solve.

The most important
thing she noticed right away was the first letter. The clue she'd
received the day before began with A and this began with C. That
meant there was a B missing, and she suspected it was seventeen.
She'd seen that number or heard it in between the two letters so it
would make at least some sense.

She added all this
information to her notebook, and then sat back to try and work out
what this clue might mean, but no matter how she looked at it, she
couldn't see the pattern.

After several
minutes of staring blankly at the numbers she decided to take a
break. She wasn't far from Carlisle and would need to change trains
there, and again at Birmingham, before she arrived back in Bath
late that evening.

While she let her
subconscious mull over the numbers, she decided to let Myron know
she had worked out the rose was from him. She pulled out her phone
and took her time composing a message.

 

Thank you for
the rose. It took me a while to realise it was from you, but now I
know B is 17; it's obvious. Your comment when you first saw it was
a good diversion. Looking forward to what's next.

 

Amelia sighed and
pressed the send button. It was never quite the same writing
something instead of saying it, and she knew she'd like to imply
more, but Myron was always brief with her in text format. She could
only hope she saw him again soon.

As she was
standing on the platform at Carlisle, she received a reply.

 

Good.

 

She chuckled as
she got on the new train. Myron was very brief.

Wanting a table
seat to be able to attempt to crack the latest code from Myron,
Amelia moved through the first carriage, past the already occupied
seats. When she reached the door at the end, she caught a glimpse
of the people behind her and noticed the same dark fur hat poking
above one of the seats. Myron evidently still had more in store for
her if this man was following her.

 

 

Chapter 7

Mycroft sipped at
his third cup of tea and waited at the café. The reporter still
hadn't responded, and he was already growing angry. If they only
knew how much power he wielded they would have replied instantly.
He could have mentioned it, but he knew people rarely believed the
depths of a threat. Human nature seemed to see a threat as a
challenge, and Mycroft had soon learnt that there were better ways
to get someone to understand they had no choice but to cooperate.
It didn't help that with this task he couldn't allow the reporter
to test him. The information needed to be stopped or the Scottish
Referendum would swing the wrong way.

While he waited,
he responded to the many emails and messages his secretary had
forwarded on to him. He gave his input and opinion on every area of
UK government, from the appointment of staff to new laws and even
things like road closures in London. Sometimes he wasn't listened
to, but he couldn't make every imbecile with some power see sense.
He didn't have the time or the inclination. As long as the usual
area of London was kept sane and safe, and the country continued in
roughly the right direction, he didn't interfere too much.

He also sent
messages to all the people who'd been involved in part B of
Amelia's latest task. She'd thanked him for the rose, and as far as
he was aware he hadn't sent her one, and would never have chosen to
do so had he been in control of every little detail, but he'd
trusted the task to others, as well. It was possible it had
indirectly come from him.

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