“Bet you miss those days, eh?”
He gave me a little shadow of a smile and looked down at his feet. “Ah… pardon me, sir, but I have a question. It’s your wife, sir. She is desirouth to know what became of the Agra treasure.”
“Why? Does she think she needs more treasure? Look at the size of this house, for God’s sake!”
“Oh… well… I think she was curious about a thertain item. A mysterious black coin, I believe.”
“Hmmm, yes. That was the heart of the thing,” I agreed. I’m sure if I had not had quite so much brandy coursing through my bloodstream, I might have been a bit less direct. “It was magic, you know. Terrible magic. The rest was just money. But the coin’s at the bottom of the Thames; she knows that.”
“Ah, yes, but where in the Thames? It’s a very big river.”
I screwed up my brows at Joachim and protested, “Yes, but Mary knows. Perfectly well.”
“Perhaps she did, sir,” said Joachim, wringing his hands again, “but maybe thomething has happened to her that made her forget. And Hall Pycroft… well… he understood little of such matters. But now that you are returned to us, sir… you must know where it is. Please…”
He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Please. I have displeased the missus. If I could bring her that piece of information, I’m sure it would be enough to put me back into her good graces.”
I gave a little brandy burp and regarded Joachim with some curiosity. He’d grown so much since I’d gone. He was a far better butler. But so much less happy. And what was all this mess with Mary forgetting where Jonathan Small had dumped her treasure? Why did it matter? Did she intend to go snorkeling about in the Thames after it?
By God, I’d pay to see that.
I gave a little shrug, swallowed the last few sips of teacup number three, grabbed the decanter to queue up teacup number four and muttered, “Well, it was definitely toward the south bank. Probably the southern third or fourth of the river. Between Blackwall and Plumstead. We didn’t see exactly when he dumped the treasure, so it could be anywhere in there. I doubt we’ll ever find it. In fact, I rather hope we don’t.”
“Thank you, sir! Yes, I think that will be enough to please her! I should be all right now. Oh, thank you!” Joachim cried, then turned and bolted through the door, presumably to tell Mary.
But definitely to leave me alone with brandy teacup number four.
Which I promptly demolished. Then I must have fallen asleep for a bit. I know, because I remember being jarred awake by the sound of raised voices. Little Sally was out near the entry, arguing with somebody. In my time away, she had truly come into her duties as maid. Plus, she’d probably turned ten, too.
I had the curious urge to buy her a pony.
“—care for your strange tricks!” she was shouting. “You can’t just barge in here, can you?”
She was answered by a man’s voice. “Well I hate to correct you, dear lady, but it seems I can, doesn’t it? Because I did.”
And suddenly, I was wide awake. That sounded exactly like Holmes! Holmes? I pulled myself shakily to my feet and headed towards the library door.
“Go on! Get out of here! You’ve got to leave!” said Little Sally.
“Very well, if you insist,” Holmes’s voice harrumphed. “But it’s got to be out the back window. And I want your assurance, before I go, that he is safe.”
“I told you before: he’s sleepin’ in the lie-berry,” Sally declared, but was instantly made a liar, as I staggered around the corner.
“No. No, I’m here. It’s all right, Sally. He can stay. You can leave us.”
My maid made a disapproving face at me as she shuffled past, but Holmes broke into a broad smile. And God help me, but I smiled too. I suppose it would have been fair of me to be a bit cross about being Pycrofted for several months. But no, my heart swelled with joy to find him at my door.
“Watson!” he crowed. “I am so glad to see you! How are you?”
“Oh… well… not at my best, I suppose.”
“But not shot or poisoned or murdered at all. That’s something, eh?” he asked, cheerily.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Holmes… is there something going on?”
He looked down at the floor for a moment, as if embarrassed. “John, do you remember what you told me when you were helping Arthur Pinner? About choosing your wars and the soldier’s price, and all?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “I think I might have been rambling a bit, before I fainted.”
“Well, you rambled quite convincingly. As a result, I have decided to include you in certain developments. Now… I don’t know if you are aware, but I have always had an arch-enemy, the whole time you’ve known me.”
I narrowed my eyes even harder. “Do you mean Moriarty?”
“Oh! You already knew?”
“Yes! He was my Christmas goose once! He was you once!”
“Oh, that’s right; he was! I’d forgotten,” Holmes laughed.
“Forgotten? I shot you in the heart!”
“Well done, too. Top marks. But recently I had some contact with Irene Adler.”
“Yes. I know…” I said, but caught myself just in time and added, “…nothing about that. Please… um… Please tell me.”
“She warned me that Moriarty might soon be returning, and might make a move against me. This seems to be the case. In recent years, the remains of Moriarty’s criminal empire have been aimless and unfocused, like a headless snake.”
“Headless snakes… usually just dead…” I noted to myself.
“Now London’s magical criminal element have displayed such sudden invigoration that there can be no question in my mind: Moriarty is directing them once more. So, I thought, ‘Let’s check in on John, eh? And get off the street, where all the bullets and falling bricks and mysteriously swerving carriages are.’ I thought
