Mycroft’s once genial facial chubbiness was now degenerating into ungainly folds of ageing flesh and bore a decidedly unhealthy grey pallor. His hair had thinned considerably and he had acquired a stoop to his back that reduced his height by two or three inches. It was sad to see that the seven-year age gap between my friend and his brother now seemed considerably wider. Admirably, Holmes betrayed no traces of the dismay he must have felt at seeing his brother’s sorry transformation.
‘Ah, Sherlock and, of course, Doctor Watson!’ was his affable greeting, although there was a hoarseness to his voice that I had, hitherto, been unaware of. ‘Good of you both to have attended so promptly.’ Then, lowering his voice somewhat, ‘I understand you have agreed to look into Lady Beasant’s little problem, but between the three of us, I think you will find this matter a little weightier and of far greater priority. Do not look so surprised, Doctor, as my brother will confirm, there is very little that escapes me, especially in so far as the affairs of a former member of the Diogenes Club are concerned.’
‘The tone of your note was somewhat urgent,’ Holmes mentioned.
‘Indeed it was. The simple fact of the matter is that the idiot Lestrade has been put in charge of the investigation and I would prefer it if you could learn all you can from the scene of the crime, before he blunders in.’
‘So it is murder then?’ Holmes asked casually, almost with an air of nonchalance. By now an evening mist had begun to fall and Holmes’s sharp, hawklike profile was set off in silhouette against the uncovered glass of Mycroft’s window.
‘Murder it undoubtedly is and I am afraid the tragic victim is my invaluable right-hand man, George Naismith,’ Mycroft replied sombrely.
‘Right-hand man, you say?’ Holmes asked a little anxiously, moving away from the window. ‘I do not understand. You have always been a law unto yourself within the Civil Service and the nature of your work has always precluded any assistance.’
‘That was the case until recently, but alas, I have not really been myself of late and it was felt by certain Government officials that some help would prove to be of benefit. I must admit that, despite my early misgivings, Naismith had become almost indispensable to me. As you are already aware, I work for no individual department and Naismith’s previous experience had helped to lubricate liaison between the various ministries.’
‘Where exactly did the murder take place?’ Holmes asked.
‘In my office, next door, and that is the most singular aspect of the whole confounded business!’ Mycroft replied. He moved over to a set of large mahogany doors.
‘I am sorry, sir, but I understood this room to be your office,’ I mentioned whilst still writing in my notebook.
‘Oh no, dear boy,’ Mycroft boomed. ‘This is merely my waiting room. Do not be too easily impressed by size and grandeur. In my exalted position it is more important to impress people before they actually meet you.’ Mycroft finished his remarks with a touch of amused irony. Then he flung open the large doors and showed us into his inner sanctum.
The room we now entered was indeed considerably smaller than the outer one, though no less impressive for that. A magnificent crystal chandelier cascaded down from the central ceiling rose, and an ornate marble fireplace all but filled the left-hand wall. However, the piece de resistance was undoubtedly the splendid Louis XIV desk that sat impressively in the centre of the room and even that was dwarfed by its companion chair, or rather, throne. The three armless chairs set before it were low enough to create a grand effect for any visitor. The remainder of the room’s furnishings comprised book-lined walls and a small plain desk and chair positioned at the far end and clearly belonging to Naismith, Mycroft’s assistant.
Therefore, it was all the more surprising to find Naismith’s body slumped over the larger of the two desks and not his own.
I raised this point with Mycroft before commencing my initial examination of the body.
‘A good point, Doctor, for that is precisely what I meant before, when stating that the body’s location was its most singular aspect. The small desk at the end of the room is Naismith’s more usual station; however, yesterday evening he was required to work late in order to read through and precis some particularly large and bulky files. For the sake of expediency I allowed him the use of my desk,’ Mycroft explained.
‘I take it that was the only occasion on which that had occurred?’ Holmes asked and then, following Mycroft’s nodded affirmation: ‘Was there a particular reason for this late-night work?’
‘For the past three weeks Naismith and I have been engaged in a series of very delicate international negotiations. At extremely short notice the Prime Minister convened a Cabinet meeting for this afternoon and this required a summary of our most recent work. It was imperative, therefore, that this work was completed before Naismith went home yesterday evening, to allow the clerks time to make copies before the Cabinet met!’ Mycroft replied, clearly irritated at the memory of the inconvenience the Prime Minister had caused.
‘How many people were aware of the fact that Naismith was working after hours?’ Holmes asked.
‘Not as many as you might think, Sherlock. The Cabinet knew the work would be ready before their meeting, but the manner of its completion was not their concern. The nature of our work precludes discussing it with other occupants of the building. Therefore, unless Naismith got word to a friend or a relation, during the course of the day, the only people who were aware of his occupation of my desk would have been myself, the doorman and Naismith himself.’ Forestalling Holmes’s next question, Mycroft quickly added: ‘The doorman has held his position for ten years or more, and is trustworthy beyond question. It was only necessary to inform him in order to avoid Naismith being locked in the office and so that he could keep Naismith well-fuelled with sandwiches and black coffee.’
‘I am sure, however, that it is not unusual for you to work extended hours from time to time?’
‘Quite so, in fact in recent weeks it has proved to be the norm rather than the exception.’
‘Would all three doors to the room have remained unlocked during Naismith’s labours?’ The tone of this last question from Holmes indicated to me, at any rate, that he was already constructing one of his theories.
This was clearly not lost on his brother either, for he replied: ‘Ah, I see the direction your mind is moving in even now and, I must say, it is a thought that crossed my mind also. Surely, then, you already know that the only door to my office left unlocked after normal hours is the one immediately behind my desk, because it leads out on to the building’s central corridor. It is also certainly true that, from the back at any rate, Naismith does possess a more than passing resemblance to myself.’
‘Most suggestive, would you not say, eh, Watson?’
I realized, at this juncture that I was clearly out of my depth here, but I nodded my assent none the less, not wishing to appear so. However, my friend was not the world’s premier amateur detective for nothing and he immediately observed my bluff.
‘Oh, Watson, is it not now obvious that it was my brother who was the assassin’s intended victim?’
‘Of course! ‘I snapped, stung that he should have seen through me. ‘Assuming there was nobody else aware of Naismith’s late night vigil, what other reason could there have been for so risky an intrusion? Perhaps it is now best, however, that we ascertain the cause of death, and also the motive behind Mycroft’s intended demise, before we have to suffer Lestrade’s imminent and unhelpful intervention,’ I suggested, before moving over to the body.
‘Well said, sir!’ Mycroft boomed his approval. ‘Although blundering would be a more apt description of his efforts. I must point out that my own brief, amateurish examination of the body has revealed no obvious signs of physical violence.’
‘You think him dead of natural causes, then?’ I asked.
‘That, Doctor, is for you to decide.’ Mycroft offered, gesturing me towards the body.
As I rested my bag upon Mycroft’s monumental desk, I noticed Holmes return to his reverie at the window, where he stood staring into the dark swirling mists outside, as if the answers he was seeking lay within their mysterious silence.
The answers I now sought were not so easily found for, like that of Mycroft, my own examination of the corpse revealed no obvious sign of violence upon it. The discovery that I eventually made, however, sent a shudder throughout my nervous system. At the top of the spinal cord I detected a small bruising in the shape of a fine tight knot. Then, under the folds of the fleshy neck, I discovered a thin red line, probably made by a fine silk cord.
‘Good heavens!’ I exclaimed, despite myself. Then, regaining my composure and in answer to the brothers’ questioning glances, I calmly announced: ‘Gentlemen, they have used a form of garrotting.’
