The carriage jerked and began to move away from the kerb.
‘Do you think that the disappearance of Amyus Crowe is of no interest to me?’ Mycroft shook his head. ‘He is, apart from being the closest thing I have to a personal friend, a man of exceptional abilities, for whom I have a great deal of professional respect. If he has disappeared suddenly, then there must be a reason, and I wish to know what that reason is. The presence of these two Americans is unsettling as well, given that we do not know whether they are friends or foes. Like you, Sherlock, I am puzzled, and that is a state of mind that I find particularly painful.’
‘What about you?’ Sherlock asked. ‘Will you be coming with us?’
‘I fear my days of travelling are past,’ Mycroft replied. ‘Our Russian expedition convinced me that I am better staying in London, where I am comfortable, and letting others actually seek out evidence and answers. But I shall be doing my part – while you are looking for Mr Crowe and his daughter, I shall be making enquiries about these two American visitors.’
Sherlock felt his heart sink. He wasn’t surprised at Mycroft’s decision, but he would have felt more confident with his brother at his side.
‘Oh,’ Mycroft continued, ‘I almost forgot. Congratulations on your deduction concerning exactly where Mr Crowe was headed. I cannot fault your logic, although I can fault Mr Crowe’s use of a rabbit’s head. There must have been something less offensive to hand and something less likely to have been stolen by a passing carnivore.’ He peered around the inside of the cab. ‘Do you think,’ he mused, taking the conversation off at a tangent, ‘I could have a carriage panelled, upholstered and carpeted to look like my office? Or like the Diogenes Club? That way I could travel in perfect comfort without the nausea that usually comes with a change of location.’
‘But who would bring your morning cup of tea or your afternoon sherry?’ Rufus Stone asked with a smile.
‘Those things can be arranged,’ Mycroft said. ‘The cab could stop outside certain establishments at pre- planned times, and waiters could pass trays through the window. I could have entire meals delivered for me to consume on the move. Think of the time saved!’
‘If you were allowed to eat and drink in here,’ Sherlock pointed out, ‘then you would grow so fat that you would never be able to get out again, which would undermine the entire point of having your own carriage in the first place. You would be like a snail in its shell.’
Mycroft nodded. ‘A fair point,’ he conceded.
‘If you’re not going to stop us going to Edinburgh,’ Matty piped up, ‘then why are you here, Mr Holmes?’
‘An excellent question, young man, and one that cuts right to the heart of the matter. I am here to see my younger brother, of course – something that hasn’t happened for a while now – and I am also here to warn the three of you to be careful. It has presumably occurred to you that anything which could cause Amyus Crowe to run rather than fight is likely to be bigger and more dangerous than you expect. I have always regarded Mr Crowe as a man entirely without fear. To find out that there is something that scares him is like finding out that the moon is entirely hollow at the back, like a dish, rather than a ball, like the Earth.’ He sighed. ‘I am also led to understand that Edinburgh is an unusually dark and violent city. The Scots themselves are a Celtic race, which means that they are prone to moods that range from maudlin depression to sudden anger. Do not think Scotland will be like Farnham, or London. Although you will not cross water – apart from the River Tyne, of course – and although the people you meet will speak English – of a sort – you should treat Scotland as you would a foreign country.’ He handed across an envelope. ‘I have taken the liberty of making your travel arrangements. Here are your tickets, and the address of a hotel into which you have been booked. Keep me informed as to what you discover. I regret to say that I have no agents of my own in Edinburgh, otherwise I would ask them to be on the lookout for Amyus Crowe and his daughter, and to keep the three of you from harm as well.’
‘Thank you,’ Sherlock said, taking the envelope. ‘Mycroft . . .’
‘Yes, Sherlock.’
He paused before going on. ‘I think you should know that Mrs Eglantine has left the employ of Uncle Sherrinford and Aunt Anna.’
Mycroft stared at Sherlock for a long moment. ‘Has she indeed?’ he murmured eventually. ‘Do I take it that this sudden reversal of fortune for that remarkably unpleasant woman has something to do with you?’
‘It has a lot to do with him,’ Matty said proudly. ‘And me!’
‘You must tell me the story when you get back.’ Mycroft kept staring at Sherlock. There was a strange look in his eyes, as if he was simultaneously seeing someone very familiar and someone who was a complete stranger. ‘You have my gift of being able to see a seed and extrapolate the flower,’ he said eventually, ‘but you also have something I lack – a regard for flowers, and a dislike of weeds. I admire you, Sherlock. I admire you greatly.’
Sherlock looked away, suddenly feeling a lump in his throat. He watched the buildings flow past the windows until he had his feelings under control.
‘I shall write to our mother,’ Mycroft announced suddenly. ‘I shall ask her to invite our aunt and uncle to stay with her for a few days. This family feud has long passed the point where it should have been forgotten. By the time our father returns from India I want it forgotten.’
‘Mother is . . . all right?’ Sherlock asked hesitantly.
Mycroft’s lips tightened almost imperceptibly. ‘She has good days and bad, but I think she is on the mend.’
‘And Emma?’
‘Our sister is . . . well, she is what she is,’ Mycroft said cryptically. ‘Let us leave it there.’
The carriage suddenly swerved sideways, towards the kerb, and stopped. Sherlock heard a scrabbling sound as the driver climbed down from his perch. Moments later the door opened.
‘King’s Cross,’ Mycroft announced. ‘If I remember my
‘Thank you for meeting us,’ Stone said. ‘And for the tickets and the hotel arrangements.’
‘Look after my brother,’ Mycroft replied. He stared at Matty, and raised an eyebrow. ‘If it isn’t too much trouble, look after this one too. I find him curiously entertaining, and my brother obviously likes him.’
‘You’re a funny geezer,’ Matty said chirpily, ‘but thanks for the lift.’
Mycroft switched his glance back to Sherlock and stuck out a hand. ‘Send me a telegram whenever convenient,’ he said. ‘You can reach me care of the Diogenes Club. Let me know how your search is going. And take care. Take great care. I have a bad feeling in my bones, and I do not think it is the gout from which I worry that I am beginning to suffer.’
The three of them – Sherlock, Matty and Rufus Stone – climbed out of the carriage. The driver shut the door and climbed nimbly back to his seat. Sherlock heard the rap of Mycroft’s cane hitting the roof, and his muffled voice calling, ‘Admiralty Arch, my good man!’ And then the carriage was pulling away from the station.
‘We’re on our own,’ Matty said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
King’s Cross Station was just like Waterloo – a large space filled with people waiting on the concourse and pigeons roosting in the cast-iron girders that held up the glass roof – except that it was smaller. Smoke drifted through the air, and the sulphurous smell of burning coal hung over everything. The walls and girders were coated with a thin film of black dust.
Sherlock looked around, wondering if it was worth asking someone if they had seen a big man in a white suit and hat with a younger girl in tow at some stage in the past day or two. Asking the people who were catching trains wouldn’t do any good – the chance that they might have also been there at the same time as Amyus and Virginia Crowe was slim – but it might be worth talking to the ticket-office clerks or the station guards. Or, he thought, as his gaze scanned the walls of the arrivals and departures hall, he could talk to the beggars and pickpockets who moved like ghosts through the crowd, invisible and unnoticed apart from the occasional cries of ‘I told you – I haven’t
