had sought the healing balm of the unconscious when the sun departed from the western sky, sallying forth from caves when it reappeared in the East. Artificial light and a work cycle that could be altered to suit individual taste had turned night into day; but it was the memory of the genes, the schedule established through the evolutionary curve, that dropped one's metabolism to its lowest ebb during these eerie hours of early morning and prompted disjointed thoughts and errant wisps of vague memory as though from another life. A gleam caught my eye and I noted, in a sudden flaming of birch sap, the chambers and handle of the Colt gun shining at me from its leather holster on the bookshelf where I had placed it. For no reason I found myself composing a clumsy chanty and, more ridiculous yet, I sang it standing bent over the fire like a cackling Scrooge who had gone daft.
In times past those twin footpads, blood and death, that tiptoed behind the world's only consulting detective had been shriveled in my mind's eye by the blinding light of my boundless admiration for Holmes' uncanny ability at observation and analysis, surely equal to the fabled tales of mythological necromancers. Now, had not the inroads of time, advance guard for the grim reaper my friend had mentioned to Frisbee, taken their toll? Fat and short- winded, could I now stand firm on the deck of that police boat roaring down the Thames in pursuit of the launch
But then, the memory of my old regiment came to me.
It was then that I heard, in the complete silence, the downstairs door open. My first thought was Lightfoot, the late Moriarty's number one executioner. My second was my Smith-Webley upstairs. But then only Holmes and I, along with Mrs. Hudson, had keys to the street door; and the cunning dead-bolt lock had been set tonight, for I did it myself. But Holmes was asleep in his chamber, or was he? I had not seen him go to bed. Nonetheless, my eyes went to the Colt pistol that I had acquired under such strange circumstances on this day; but there was naught but spent cartridges in it.
I quickly ignited the lamp beside me, raising the wick, and then crossed to the fireplace to stand by the poker.
There was no sound on the seventeen steps leading upward to our first floor chambers, but the cat-footed Holmes wouldn't make any. I spoke out, and my voice had a slight tremor to it.
'Holmes?'
There was the sudden sound of key in lock and the door swept open to reveal my hawk-like friend, who was chuckling.
'The lamplight put me on the alert, Watson, for I noted it under the crack of our door. I was standing without, pondering my next move, when I heard the welcome sound of your voice.'
Suddenly his expression changed, and he regarded me anxiously. 'Is something amiss, for this is an unusual hour for you.'
'I could not sleep,' I said, having no intention of telling Holmes of the defeatist tentacles that had menaced me with their debilitating embrace before I beat them back.
'Well then, since you're awake and I have not tried to sleep, let us be off.'
I suppressed a groan at this, determined to be as staunch a companion as I had ever been. 'Where were you, by the way?' I said, crossing toward the stairs.
'Anticipation, Watson, for I'll not be caught short again as I was but recently in this very room. Look for a possible alternative and provide against it. The first rule of criminal investigation.'
I'd heard that before, and as before, it told me nothing. At the foot of the stairs leading to our bedchambers, I paused, then retraced my steps to take the holstered gun from the bookshelf. There were some boxer cartridges in my rolltop above that might be the right caliber.
We caught an almost deserted train out of Paddington that Holmes referred to as the 'red-eye special,' and I slept most of the way to Gloucester.
When we alighted at the Fenley station, dawn had not yet begun to stain the eastern horizon and there was a veritable symphony of the bird sounds that presaged its coming.
Standing on the dark station platform, immobile as a block of granite and quite as solid-looking, was the figure of Wakefield Orloff.
Orloff greeted us and led the way through deserted streets of the village to the inn. There were no other lights showing in Fenley, yet behind the curtains in the Red Grouse I detected illumination. A thought that I had previously dismissed came to mind again and was reinforced when we entered the establishment. The front room was not only illuminated but populated as well. Five men, in addition to the innkeeper and his wife, were in evidence—sipping tea and munching sandwiches made available by the lady. I had observed that the inn was very well managed, but this was ridiculous. Unless my previous thought was well founded and the place served as a headquarters for Mycroft's people. It had to be such, for there was no surprise at our arrival. The five men, strangers all, shared a sameness that I recognized. Reasonably young, they had a fit look about them and were inconspicuously dressed. One would have had to guess as to their business and been dissatisfied at the conclusion arrived at. Surely their coats were reversible, for I had seen Holmes use that trick.
I accepted a spot of tea. Holmes surveyed the scene and nodded at Orloff, as though satisfied with arrangements.
'How do we do it?' asked the security agent.
'We'll go now while it's still dark. You and your men take the main house and stables. Let's not have an alarm from some awakened groom.'
'And you?'
'There is an annex to the main house where wood work and such might be done if one had a need for it. Watson and I will take a look there, then join you.'
One of the inconspicuous men, at a signal from Orloff, disappeared by the front door and I suspected our transportation was being arranged.
When we left the Red Grouse shortly afterward, two closed carriages were pulled up in front.
Orloff rode with Holmes and myself in the first carriage and the trip down the river road was not a longish one, as I had noted previously. When we all disembarked from the vehicles, I saw that Holmes had miscalculated slightly for there was a first light that revealed the substantial mansion we were interested in. Despite the predawn hour, there were lights and indications of activity within the building.
Orloff shot a glance at Holmes. 'This tears it.'
'Same plan,' replied Holmes crisply. 'It's important that no one slip away.'
'A bit like that trap we sprung on Baker Street,' observed the security agent. His men began to race to positions around the estate.
'And for rather the same reasons.' Holmes motioned to me and we started up the drive, quickly moving to the close-cropped lawn to take advantage of the trees on the grounds. It was still sufficiently dark so that we could
