Holmes shook his head. ‘The most frustrating aspect of the whole affair is my complete inability to make a sensible connection between the Russians - either pair of them - and my client.’
‘Yet you say she was once in Russia,’ reflected Mycroft.
‘But that was more than a quarter of a century ago. Her articles have been long published and forgotten.
If it were merely a question of an outspoken journalist having strong opinions against the Russian system - as Mrs Fordeland does have - I cannot see that they would waste a moment over it, let alone have their principal intelligence functionary in London attending to the matter in person.’
‘Are you completely sure that the lady has told you the truth, Sherlock - all of the truth?’ asked Mycroft.
‘One can never be absolutely certain that one has been told the truth, even when it is independently confirmed. I can only say that Mrs Fordeland strikes me as a lady who has a profound belief in honesty and plain- dealing. Would you not say so, Watson?’
‘Oh indeed,’ I agreed. ‘I cannot imagine that the lady would willingly tell a lie, certainly not on her own behalf. I imagine, since she holds strong views on the treatment of the needy and powerless, that she might engage in dishonesty to protect another, but never herself.’
Holmes looked at me thoughtfully. ‘I have said before, Watson, that you are not yourself luminous, but you transmit light. Whom do you imagine the lady might be defending?’
‘I cannot imagine,’ I said. ‘It was merely a speculation that, if she has not revealed the truth to you, the reason will be the protection of somebody else, not herself.’
He nodded. ‘You may be right,’ he said, and I was pleased by his rare praise. ‘Mrs Fordeland’s secret, whatever it may be, must be connected with Russia and, ergo, with her time there or her articles about the country.’
‘You sound very certain,’ Mycroft commented.
‘Tush, Mycroft. Surely the advancing years have not led you to a belief in coincidence? Was it not you, in our youth, who pointed out to me that, when two seemingly unconnected events occur in close proximity within the same frame of reference, a close and proper examination of the facts will reveal that they are connected? Here we have five people in London, two pairs of whom are manifesting a close but unexplained interest in the fifth. It must relate to the lady’s time in Russia. What I fail to understand is the possible connection with the murder of Captain Parkes. That is why I should welcome a sight of your file, Mycroft.’
‘And you are pursuing the Russian connection?’ asked Mycroft.
‘Of course!’ exclaimed Holmes. ‘At present I see no other direction to follow.’
Mycroft rose from his chair and gazed out of the window, with his back towards us. For several minutes he gazed down at the tree tops in the park below, all bright in their early summer greenery. At last he turned back to us, his mouth pursed.
‘The Russians can be very difficult,’ he remarked, seemingly apropos of nothing.
‘I thought they were our allies,’ I remarked.
‘Ha!’ he snorted. ‘Allies! There are times when I would rather have every tribe of uncontrolled barbarians in the world as allies than Imperial Russia. Whatever they say, Doctor, they are almost always up to something else. They have never ceased to try and sneak into India and wrest it from us.’
He focused suddenly on his brother. ‘Did you say that your client has an appointment with King Chula of Mongkuria? What is that about?’
‘I imagine,’ said Sherlock, ‘that the meeting is purely social, merely a renewal of old acquaintance.
After all, King Chula was her pupil as a child, and she seems to have been a great friend of her employer, King Chula’s father.’
‘You are sure of this?’ demanded Mycroft.
‘No, Mycroft, I am not. I merely believe that it is the most likely reason for their meeting. In my experience the most likely explanation is usually the correct one. Perhaps I am wrong and His Majesty wishes to make her the Mongkurian Ambassador to London.’
‘We would not permit it!’ snapped Mycroft, dropping back into his chair.
Holmes smiled. ‘You take me too seriously, brother. I was jesting. The lady might make an admirable ambassador.’
‘She is a damned meddler,’ snorted Mycroft. ‘She went to Mongkuria to teach the wives and children of the former King. He had a great many of both. In no time she was drafting correspondence with heads of state for him, attending his diplomatic meetings and advising him. It became an
embarrassment. When he died and a regency took over during King Chula’s minority, we were pleased to advise that her contract should not be renewed.’
‘But why?’ I exclaimed.
‘I am sure, Doctor, that she acted out of her friendship with the King and a properly British sense of fair play, but it was an embarrassment to us.’
‘You’re not suggesting that she acted against British interests, are you?’ I enquired.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Not exactly. I grant you that she was instrumental in keeping the French and Germans out of Mongkuria. They wanted a way into Burma and India and Mongkuria seemed just the ideal
backdoor. Her friend the King kept them at bay.’
‘Then why do you complain?’ asked Holmes.
‘Because she treated all of us the same, that’s why! While she was there, the King treated our fellows exactly the same as the French or Germans.’
Holmes nodded. ‘And it became difficult for us to manufacture an excuse to take over his country and protect Burma and India. I see.’
There was a short silence, then Mycroft changed the direction of the conversation.
‘It might be worth this department’s while to find out what Kyriloff and Count Rimkoff are up to,’ he said. ‘Normally we leave Major Kyriloff alone. After all, he’s usually interested in anarchists manufacturing bombs to throw at his masters. None of our affair, really, so long as they don’t throw them here. When they do, it’s a matter for Scotland Yard’s Secret Branch. But Kyriloff and his unpleasant friend seem to be involved in something different. Perhaps I should know what it is. If it isn’t our affair I can ignore it or pass it across to Scotland Yard. Yes, Sherlock. You may have a sight of our file on Captain Parkes. I shall have someone bring it round to your lodgings.’
Six
The Russian Interpreter
‘I take it,’ I said, as we sat in a hansom returning to Baker Street, ‘that you will be able to make no further progress until you see Mycroft’s file on the Parkes murder.’
‘Whether I can make any further progress, Watson, remains to be seen,’ he said, rather snappishly, I thought. ‘What is clear is that it would be folly to do nothing until Mycroft’s minions unearth a twenty-year-old file from their cumbersome archives.’
‘Then what will you do?’ I asked.
‘In the absence of new data,’ he said, ‘there are two rational paths open to the enquirer. The first is to reconsider the existing data and see whether any new interpretation may be applied to it which will meet the facts. With your help and Mycroft’s I have already reviewed Mrs Fordeland’s problem and revealed a failure in my analysis of the data. You have pointed out to me that, while the lady does not present as a person who would lie or conceal information in her own interest, she might very well do so to protect someone else. I had failed to consider my own maxim that the absence of evidence does not prove that something has not occurred. I must now consider what Mrs Fordeland may be concealing and for what reason. I very much doubt that she will have misled us by inadvertence. The concealment, if there is one, will be deliberate and as a matter of principle.’
‘And secondly?’ I enquired.
‘Secondly,’ he said, ‘the enquirer must consider whether there is a possibility of acquiring fresh data from an alternative source. It occurs to me that there is one avenue which I
have not fully explored. That is the singular household of Miss Wortley-Swan.‘
He looked at me thoughtfully. ‘Tell me, Watson,’ he said, ‘you were quite certain that our client would not lie to us on her own account, and equally certain that she might do so to protect another. You will recall that I asked
