We scribbled and thought, but came up with nothing.
Reading it as 15, 17, 22, 12, 22, 24, 20, 11 yielded gibberish as OQVLVXTK, and no other combination made any sense either. I finally pushed it away.
'There are just too many variables, Holmes. Without a key we can't even know if it's a word, or the combination to a safe, or a map coordinate, or — '
'Yet she left it for us to find. Where could she have put the key?'
'Judging from her previous style, I should say that the key is both hidden and completely obvious, which is always the most effective means of hiding something.'
It was very late now, and my eyes felt gritty. I picked up the conversation where we had left it before the slash pattern had appeared.
'I agree that she was demonstrating her cleverness. She won a number of points in that round. I wonder what her next move might have been had we not been spirited away by Mycroft. Cutting off Watson's nose to show that she could have taken his head?'
'More to the point, what will her move be now, when we walk openly home? For how long will her wariness last before she thinks it is perhaps not a trap, that we truly are divided and the trauma of it has made me an empty wreck? Mere extermination is not what she wants, apparently. She wishes to ruin me first. Very well, we'll give her that, and wait for her to move.'
He carefully inserted the papers and photographs back into their oversized envelope and stood looking down at me.
'Well, Russell. Thank you for showing me Palestine. It may be a long, long time before we are able to speak freely. I shall say good night, and good-bye, and we will meet when the prey takes the bait and comes into our trap.' His lips gently brushed my forehead, and he was gone.
Thus began our act of alienation. Holmes and I had only a few days to perfect our rôles of the two friends now turned against each other, the father and daughter alienated, the near-lovers become bitterest, most implacable of enemies.
It takes time to develop a part, as all actors know, time and an exploration of the nuances and quirks of the person being played. We had to be word-perfect before we reached England for the trap to be effective. We had to assume that we were being watched at every moment, and a slight slip of affection could be disastrous.
It is a truism of the actor's art that one can play only oneself on the stage. To be fully effective the actor must have a sympathy for the character's motives, however unsympathetic they might appear to an outsider. To a large extent, the actor must become the character if the act is to be effective, and that is what Holmes and I did. From the time we rose in the morning we did not play enemies, we were enemies. When we met it was with icy politeness that rapidly disintegrated into vicious attacks. I grew into the rôle of the young student who had come to view her old teacher with withering scorn. Holmes responded with malevolent counterattacks and the full strength of his razor-sharp sarcasm. We cut each other with our tongues and bled and crawled off to the sanctuary of our individual cabins and came back for more.
The first day was technically difficult, keeping up the persona in front of my real face, continually thinking, what might I do at this point if I really were this way? And how ought I respond to that? It was exhausting, and I went to bed early. The second day it quickly became easier.
Holmes never looked out from behind his mask, and mine too was now firmly in place. I went to my room early to read but found it difficult to concentrate. My mind wandered off. What on earth was I doing here? I ought to be in Oxford, not on this boat. I had no business taking off this time of year. Even basic work was impossible in this battleground. Perhaps the captain might let me off in France and I could take the train home. Probably be faster, and certainly more restful. I wonder — I jerked to attention, horrified. These were not the thoughts of an actor; this was the character thinking. I had become, for a moment, the person I had played throughout the day. I sat appalled at the implications: If this could happen after less than forty-eight hours of play-acting, what would happen after days and weeks of it? Would I be able to shut it off at will? Or, my God, would it become a habit too firm to break?
'For what will it profit a man, if he gains the whole world and forfeits his life?' Wouldn't a nice clean bomb be better than losing Holmes? A malevolent voice seemed to murmur beneath the engine throb.
'If I forget thee, Jerusalem, may my right hand lose its cunning.' I went out into the common room for some brandy, and Holmes passed me silently as he went into his room. I stood in the dark, looking out at the black sea until the glass was empty, and went back to the hallway.
Holmes had left his door slightly ajar, and my steps slowed.
I stopped and let my shoulder and head come to rest against the wall, not looking in at the segment of his room that was available to my eyes.
'Holmes?'
'Yes, Russell.'
'Holmes, when you have acted a part for some days, do you find it hard to drop it?' 'It can be difficult to shake off a part, yes.' His voice was calm, conversational. 'When I spent a week working on the docks on a case many years ago, the day after the man was arrested I dressed and went out at the usual time, and walked clear down to Oxford Street before I came to myself. Yes, a part can become habitual. Had you not realised that risk?'
'Not completely.'
'You are doing well, Russell. It becomes easier as time passes.'
'That is precisely what I am afraid of, Holmes,' I whispered. 'How long before the part becomes so natural that it is no longer a part? How am I to maintain my objectivity, to watch for signs that the opponent is opening herself up, if I become the part?'
'When the time comes, you will do it. I have faith in you, Russ.'
His easy words brought me an element of stability, calm within the storm. 'I am glad you have faith in me, Holmes,' I said drily. 'I bow to your superior experience.'
I could feel his smile through the door.
'I shall send you messages from time to time while you are up at Oxford. Obvious ones, for the most part, though if I have the opportunity to send a secure one, I shall do so. You, of course, will write occasionally to Mrs. Hudson when she returns from Australia, and she will leave the letters lying about pointedly.'
'You think it will be safe to allow her to return to Sussex?'
'I do not know how I should keep her away. Mycroft had practically to kidnap her to get her on the ship in the first place; Mrs. Hudson is a very determined woman. No, we shall simply have to take on one or two extra servants. Mycroft's agents, of course.'
'Poor Mrs. Hudson. She'll be so upset when she finds we've quarrelled.'
'Yes. But Mycroft will be a safe liaison. There's no hiding anything from Mycroft. I fear our alienation will also cause considerable pain to Dr. Watson. I can only hope it will not wind on for too many months.'
'You think it could go on so long?' Oh, God.
'I believe our foe is a careful and patient individual.
She will not act precipitously.'
'You are right. As usual.'
'Your aunt will be pleased, I fear. Your farm, of course, will necessitate the occasional trip to Sussex.'
'No doubt it will.' I thought for a moment. 'Holmes, an automobile might come of considerable use in this adventure. However, I can no longer borrow money from Mrs. Hudson, and I doubt that my aunt would approve the expenditure. My allowance goes up this year, but not enough for that.'
'I think Mycroft should be of help there, in persuading your trustees and the University offices that an automobile is a necessary item. You may even come to my farm once or twice, in attempts at reconciliation.'
'Which will, of course, fail.'
'Of course.' I imagined the quick smile flitting across his features. 'This is a good trap we're constructing, Russell, strong and simple. It only needs patience, patience and alertness to the prey's movements. We will catch her, Russell.
She's no match for us. Go to sleep now.'
'I believe I will. Thank you, Holmes.'
I did go to bed, and eventually to sleep, but in the still hours that are neither night nor morning the Dream
