Heroes Return VI: Book One London Chapter 13

 13.

 

“The professor remains hubristic to his role.” Sherlock, seated in the carriage, fingered his deerstalker hat while his pipe was stashed away in the side pocket of his coat. He was facing Doctor John Watson, and Mycroft was seated there. They were on the way to Lord Greystoke's estate.

“An observation of yours?” Doctor John Watson looked at the man; she had shared some adventures. “You were never……"

“Owning up to the foe I admired. Professor Moriarty is an absolute genius. He commanded a huge empire of villains and scoundrels, including nobles and perhaps royalty.” Sherlock saw the expression on Mycroft, but he continued.

“No one is above the reaches of the Professor, Mycroft. He will stake one’s weakness and capitalize on your weakness.”

“Like in Irene Adler perhaps?” Watson was there to snare the detective into admission.

“Ms. Adler was a worthy adversary, and she acted fast to evade me apprehending her.” Sherlock looked at the companion of his. “I am sure there were other adversaries I failed to apprehend.”

“Baron Gruner, and of course Neville St. Clair, and the KKK group who escaped the gallows.” Watson availed himself of the list.

"Gruner, an illustrious client but also a killer and womanizer, and he deserved his punishment, disfigured, but he is free out there," Sherlock said. “I disliked him.

“Not St. Claire. You let him go when you heard his tale.” Watson reminded Sherlock. He was looking out from the left window.

“Empathy is not a trait of mine, but I will bow to that in this case.” Sherlock looked out of the carriage window on the right.

“Being romantic is not yourself.” Watson took the blade to the main artery there.

“If you are referring to …. Irene Adler, I believed immolation would be the cut I took. I hold no affection towards her except for her intelligence, which outwitted me then. A mere snag in the workings of my mind, but I am prepared for that.”

“Yes, she is out of your reach, and I doubt she will come to your nesting.” Watson smiled.

“Yes, I can concur with that, but may I ask why the narratives are to me on these cases? I am …"

“Do not look at me. I was asleep.” Mycroft looked at the other with the face of the innocence that may baffle the judge or St. Peter at the gates.

“As we have time on our journey, and more to that, these few characters evaded your deductions, and now you have muttered 'Professor Moriarty' to the conversation. I am curious about the reference, like an aneurysm in the brain; a violation of the brain schematics.” Watson looked at the other.

“Aneurysm? What is that?” Mycroft asked

“Brain aneurysms are caused by thinning artery walls. Aneurysms often form at forks or branches in arteries because those areas of the vessels are weaker. Although aneurysms can happen anywhere in the brain, they are most common in arteries at the base of the brain.’ Watson explained in medical terms. “It does require surgical intervention.”

“Oh…… I thought it was a reference to anal and resuming orgasm.” Mycroft smiled.

“I would prefer to reference that to our case, as the Oni Society may be the aneurysm to the echelon of power, and we need to remove it ……. surgically.” Sherlock interjected.

“Ouch! That hurts more than being sodomized.” Mycroft's expression was seditious in expression.

"Lobotomize, you meant.” Watson mimicked the insertion of the long needle up the nose. “Either entry is equally painful.”

“Tell me more the next …." Mycroft was cut off then by Sherlock.

“Surely, you are not bent.”

“No ……. No…… I am intact there. I am a ladies' man, and I do earn their trust. Or rather mine to them.”

“Gentlemen, we are being shadowed.” Watson looked out the window again. “I counted two riders on a parallel course to ours.”

“Another on the other side. I cannot make out the dressing," Sherlock said. “I will say that is a Washiki Bajutsu method rooted in samurai martial arts, focusing on body mechanics, balance, and control of the horse rather than just speed. I have been reading many articles on the warrior class of Japan for the last week.”

“Yes, I supposed. Our riding techniques from the army were a formal, uniform riding style, primarily utilizing a long-rein seat with legs straight or slightly bent to maintain stability for sword combat, particularly among light cavalry and dragoons. Riding with tactics adapted to include reconnaissance and skirmishing alongside traditional shock charges," Watson added. “I do not suppose the errant riders on the roads differ much.”

“I have my Webley to protect us.” Mycroft drew on the revolver from his coat.

“A worthy companion if we ever needed it.” Sherlock looked to the rider.

“I have mine. The RIC, courtesy of a retired officer.” The Webley Royal Irish Constabulary revolver was one of the earliest British breech-loading revolvers. Solid frame revolver, with a round barrel screwed into the frame, and a one-piece wooden grip held by two vertical screws, and holding six bullets.

“It is good for one hundred yards but deadly at twenty-five yards.”

“We may not use it. If I am not mistaken, we are near the military outpost for the area.” Sherlock looked out. “I will estimate that we are about five miles out, and there is a cavalry outpost there, and another three miles to the Greystokes' estate.”

“Mycroft, was the minister under military protection at the country home?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes, a detachment of the calvary was posted. I was told they took off with the lady to the Greystokes estate, led by a Lieutenant Gavin McLeod, Household Cavalry."

“Most indeed.” Sherlock sat back. “I will say any attempts on us will be ……"

The driver of the carriage was seen fallen to the left side with an arrow protruding from the chest.

“I say now," Sherlock called out. The twin horses without the driver were galloping fast and, by instinct, remained on the track.

“I say, old chap. Do you know how to stop a runaway carriage?” Mycroft looked at Watson.

“Just as good as I can perform a brain cut on you, which I had yet to perform.” Watson looked outside. “We are coming to a stop.”

The carriage came to a halt, and Sherlock was the first to emerge.

“Konichiwa.” Sherlock looked at the masked three riders. He pulled out a paper from his coat pocket and read the words there. “Nanika otetsudai dekiru koto wa arimasu ka? (How may I assist you?) ”.

“Stay away, Mr. Holmes. We will not want you to be involved in the personal battle of ours.” The leader of the trio said. “The Oni Society take care of their own.”

“I say…" Mycroft had alighted from the carriage and reached for his revolver. The arrow flew past the right side of his face and stuck the carriage side.

“You are warned.” The riders then took off from the carriage.

“Was that…?" Mycroft suffered an indignity to his valor.

“Stutter that, Mycroft. You would be dead if they wanted to kill you.” Watson appeared next to Mycroft. “Sherlock, I will say they are efficient.”

“I can concur. They had trailed us from the unit. And their accent is … East Enders.” Sherlock looked at the arrow. “Similar to but not entirely the same design. I think we are dealing with the Oni Society here.”

“Pardon me.” Mycroft looked at the arrow.

“I was shot at in the chamber, and that arrow had a ring of red on the shaft. This one had none. I read the Oni Society does not mark their arrows.”

“Who shot us then? Or you?” Mycroft asked.

“I do not know. I am to study it.” Sherlock pulled the arrow out from the carriage.

“Anyone called for the cavalry?" Watson motioned to the arriving cavalry troopers approaching them.

“Lieutenant McLeod. Whom may I know of you gentlemen?”

“Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, and Doctor John Watson," Sherlock announced.

“Well, sirs. Thank you.” Lieutenant McLeod looked at Sherlock. “All of you are to return to London.”

“Preposterous! I am Mycroft Holmes, an executive officer of the Foreign Office. I demand to know by whom were those orders sent.” Mycroft approached the lieutenant.

“Sir, I got the telegram this morning from the Foreign Office.” Lieutenant McLeod handed the message over. “I was told to meet you on this road. And have you returned to the city?"

Mycroft read the message and then handed it over to Sherlock.

“It is from the office. We are recalled to the city.” Mycroft turned to look at Sherlock. “We are …… What is this? An arrest order for us?”

“Never mind that. May we have one of your men to drive the carriage? And please bring the dead driver too.”

……

 

Heroes Return VI: Book One London Chapter 12

 

12.

 

“I must conclusively say Mrs. Hudson’s scones are better. They are light, fluffy, barely sweet pastries perfect for breakfast or tea, best served warm with clotted cream and jam.” Sherlock picked up his piece and applied the spoonful of strawberry jam on it.

‘Conclusive? Did you arrive at that deduction after tasting others' baking? Or based on…" Watson sat across from the man; both dressed in their dressing gowns. They woke up to the smell of the freshly baked scones and hot tea.

“No references, Watson. However, I will conclude that as my deduction too. Mycroft will concur with that too.” Sherlock smiled, which was rare, more so in the morning.

“Have you taken scones made by the ladies at the frontier? They are equally delicious.” Watson defended his stay at the frontier, and anything English was savored there. “Mrs. Gareth, the Major’s wife made scones every Sunday for us.”

“I guess if you are away from home, anything that resembles home cooking will be nice.” Sherlock looked to the morning papers. “Ah, nothing on our minister. His death must be kept from the tabloids.”

Watson knew when the other was moving the subject matter and reached for the sports section.

“The Wimbledon Championships is finding its roots in London. That is news to read here.” Watson read from the tabloids. It was then Mycroft appeared at the chamber.

“Good morning, chaps.” Mycroft walked. He saw the breakfast spread on the table. “Scones! I am sure I have room for that.”

“I am sure, Mycroft.” Watson sneered at the man. Without hesitation, Mycroft grabbed a scone and dabbed the jam on it. He ate it gleefully.

“Thankfully for the skills of this lady. I could eat this daily.” Mycroft looked for a spare cup to drink from, but there was none. He saw none and was to take Sherlock’s but was denied.

“I tell you, Shelly. You are still the same when we had to share our toys.” Mycroft licked his fingers and then sat down by the table. “I am here with updates.”

“And I am to use the privy. Morning rituals.” Watson got up and walked away. He was not keen to listen in, for he was not to be involved.

“What is with the old boy? Did he get up from the wrong side of the bed today?” Mycroft looked at Sherlock.

“Tell me.” Sherlock took a sip of the tea he was served. Triviality was not his expertise for any conversation.

“Okay, Ms. Kewala is safe. She is at the Greystokes estate. I have got my men there, or rather near there. The Greystokes are particular in their own safety.” Mycroft told Sherlock. “They had the estate marked as their land.”

“After our adventure, Lady Greystokes does not take kindly to any presence, including mine.” Sherlock looked back at the papers.

“It was not your fault; she lost the child.”

“An obvious observation, but the emotions of a lady can be unobvious to the facts," Sherlock said. “Where is Doctor Mitsui Ogata?”

“Doctor Mitsui Ogata is at the Brown’s Hotel, and I met Nayland Smith. You do remember him?”

“Barely. We may have met, but he was more towards the Far East, and what was his name……. Fu Manchu… eloped with the daughter, and since then, has been working at East End.”

“By golly, you knew of this? What do you have in your mind? The daily workings of everyone in London?”

“No, Mycroft. Only certain people which I am told of their whereabouts……. Local gossip that you get, like at the marketplace." Sherlock has an extensive network of informers in London.

“Spank me here! Do you know how many times I've been to the privy?” Mycroft looked at the brother of his.

“Once this morning. That is your first stop every morning.” Sherlock looked at the papers. “Why was the minister's death not reported?”

“I…… Never mind. The tabloids were shuttered for reasons of national security. He will be on the page at noon today and is diagnosed with heart failure while at the office. It will avoid any speculations on the family and ……. us.”

“And mine? Fallen into the abyss, or perhaps the waterfall, and the body not found?” Sherlock looked at Mycroft.

"Ingenious, there. That will deter any grave digger from uprooting your bones, or your brains ……" Mycroft smiled. “But fallen into the waterfall may be too dramatic. Your skull may…"

“Okay, back to the matter. You got Nayland in, and he was to ……

“Work with me? I doubt so.” Sherlock shook his head. “You wanted him to work with Doctor Mitsui Ogata.”

“How did you guess?” Mycroft smiled.

“Elementary, my dear brother. Nayland is an operative, and I am a detective. We are like potassium cyanide or KCN. We are deadly when combined into one compound. Will be fatal to anyone with us.”

“Okay, fine with your chemistry analysis.” Mycroft leaned back. “So, are you and Watson back?”

“I do not…" Sherlock saw Watson emerging then, all dressed up in his street suit.

“I am involved, Mycroft.” Watson took his rightful seat. “I must be. I was nearly killed by an assailant; so was he, and above all, I am told my patients have moved to another doctor in the area. I am pissed here.”

“Wow! That is good news. No more patients will die under your care.” Mycroft blurted out. “My bad. I have more news. I read some filed-away reports by geologists and professors and officials, and they have all been in contact with Minister Leeson on one matter: mining. The minister was in his private capacity a miner and later explored mining in ……. Africa. He joined the government on the basis of his friendship with the PM. He started off as the mining attaché and worked his way to the exchequer.”

“Mining?” Sherlock was thinking then “Were we into mining at Africa?”

“And I checked on Doctor Mitsui Ogata…." Mycroft was cut off.

“He held a doctorate in geology from the University of Tokyo," Sherlock snapped in. “I had his background checked. He also has a doctorate in international banking. But no mining.”

“We need to visit the Greystokes.” Mycroft smiled. “Carriages ready.”

“I doubt our visit will be entertained. The last adventure, Jane Greystoke lost her baby.” Watson reminded the brothers then.

“Just a medical question here, Doctor. I noticed the ladies tend to wear a tight corset.” Mycroft had the quiz expression. “Is it not… dangerous to their health?"

“No more deadly than a barrel leveled at your head.” Sherlock cut in. “Medically diagnosed.”

Well, "tight lacing" of corsets is medically discussed as a primary cause of restricted breathing, decreased lung capacity, and severe internal health issues. However, corsets are an essential part of Victorian fashion; the intense pressure placed on the torso by stiff, steel-boned garments often restricted breathing to the top of the lungs and could lead to chlorosis, or green sickness. " Doctor John Watson explained.

“And it does wonders for the bosom, Cheri. At my age, it does take on the direction of gravity.” Mrs. Hudson appeared. “Hello, Mycroft. I heard you arrived, and there's an extra cup for your tea here.”

“Well, thank you. Mrs. Hudson” Mycroft looked over to Watson for some distraction, but none was seen. The lady left the trio, and the discussion went back to the issue on hand.

“Conclusively, we need to visit the Greystokes.” Sherlock stood up. “The game is afoot.”

“I would like to state that I am under protest to my participation in this.” Watson drew attention to himself. He was ignored by the brothers.

At the Greystokes estate, Jane was discussing with her lover how to get Mindy to retrieve the documents. They were seated in the library. The ladies were seated on the seats facing the fireplace, while Lord Greystoke was at the long, tall glass doorway facing the garden.

“John, we need to collect the documents from Mindy’s place.” Mrs. Greystokes looked at her lover. “It may be the key to these murders.”

“Yes, I am aware. However, this will be done without you.” Lord Greystokes looked at her. “The doctor had…"

“Look, John. I am fine. I can…" Lady Greystokes shifted her seating position. “I am……”

“Baby moved.” Mindy smiled. “I have not one yet, but the palace has many ladies to whom I play nursemaid.”

“Yes, it did.” Lady Greystokes turned to look at her lover. “Okay, I will stay, but can you assist her?”

“I am. Mindy will be taken there by the Waziri warriors. She will be dressed like a Waziri’s lady, and they will take care of her.” Lord Greystokes replied. “The Waziri used a backroad to get their supplies. They have deployed hunters there to check for any ……. Traps. She will be safe.”

“Who is in charge?” Lady Greystokes asked.

“Ngamba will take the lead. He will be with two others and one other lady to follow. That lady is Megmu, who is proficient in the art of daggers.” Lord Greystokes said. “I will be here with you, and alongside us are ten Waziri’s warriors led by Thirun. We will go about our normal routines. Kimbel will be at the house.”

“Are we being watched?” Lady Greystokes asked.

“Yes, by Scotland Yard, the military, and by others. Mindy Kewala, you are a very important guest here.”

 

Heroes Return VI: Book One London Chapter 11

 

11.

 

Nayland discarded his coolie disguise and was back at his regular drinking stop, nursing the stout he was served. It was like any ordinary English drinking spot, Lancelot’s Trough, the wooden entrance to the rowdy bar, where the regular patrons mingled at the four round tables or the long bar, taking their drinks and sharing lewd topics. On that afternoon, it was filled to the brim, and Nayland took his regular seat by the long bar.

The bartender was busy cleaning his glasses when the newly arrived patron walked in. Calvin, the bartender, has a good eye on all his patrons and knows his regulars like the back of his hand, most times forgetting what they like but not their looks.

An ale, bitter or mild, dark, or brown, comes with the mood. The choice may change the shape of your mood in different ways.” Calvin learned from his serving. “Old Paddy may win at the horses and ask for a pint of ale or lose at them and ask for a bitter ale. He has his choices known, and I served them.”

“Drink, guvnor?” Calvin stepped to the spot opposite the newly arrived. He had studied the man who stepped in. The dark frock coat over the lighter pants and working shoes complete with a top hat. The frock coat had a slight bulge under the left armpit. The man was looking at the bar counter when he sat down, two seats from Nayland from the left.

“A pint of the old ale, please.” The person muttered, but Calvin picked up the syllable. The bartender turned to serving then.

It happened fast, and Nayland was off his seat when the butcher knife swung at his face. He stepped back and looked at the attacker. The man who attacked him had he knife taken from the frock coat and was leveled at Nayland.

“Die…" The attacker barely finished his sentence when the long-handled club held by Calvin impacted the back of his head. The attack fell to the floor. Nayland stepped over and kicked the knife away.

“Bloody good move, Calvin.” Nayland smiled.

“Bloody effort of his on my regular deserved a whack on the head.” Calvin replaced his club. The other patrons cheered the effort by the bartender.

“Good on you, Calvin.” One of the patrons cheered. “We know you got our back any day.”

“Well, as long as you cleared your tabs here.” Calvin replied. He then looked at Nayland. “Your pal here needs some work on his choice of hospitality. I do not condone bad manners.”

It would have ended then, but the attacker has pals outside who stormed in. Three of them charged at Nayland swinging ice picks. They were all similarly dressed and equally vicious in their movements.

The right attacker did an upper swing at Nayland, who ducked on the move and used his body to slam into the middle one. His body slam propels them into the doorway, and there Nayland rolled aside to avoid the left attacker. The left attacker's ice pick barely missed Nayland, but the latter was moving further to the right. He grabbed a chair and swung it at the attacker. The chair impacted the left attacker on the chest, and then Nayland used the momentum to swing the chair at the other remaining attacker.

Three of his attackers were on the flooring, and Nayland looked to Calvin for assistance.

“Have a go, mate.” Calvin tossed the club over. The club was made from hardwood, and measured two feet with the heavier dimension on the end. It was a handy weapon for bludgeoning. Nayland caught it with his right hand and swung the club at the nearest left attacker. It impacted hard on the side of the head, and then with his intent, he thrust the club into the middle attacker's face and did a tight twist of his right wrist to swing the club into the last attacker.

“How’s that?” Nayland called out in glee. The other patrons joined in and grabbed the attackers by their limbs to toss them out.

“Drinks on me.” Nayland laughed. He then picked up the ice pick and examined it. The design consists of a sharp metal spike attached to a handle. During the era then, ice blocks were gathered from frozen water sources and distributed to nearby homes. Ice picks were used to easily cut the blocks into smaller pieces for use. its availability and ability to puncture the skin easily, the ice pick has sometimes been used as a weapon. 

“Ice breakers?” Calvin asked.

“Nay, probably killers who preferred that weapon.” Nayland shook his head. He then excused himself and walked to the Foreign Office.

“Bloody time you took there.” Mycroft took a puff on his cigar, seated at the chamber assigned to him. “If I had known you would be late, I would have suggested the club.”

“I have my share of the club today. I did find it useful to stop three attackers.” Nayland sat himself on the seat in front of Mycroft’s desk.

“Attacked? By golly, you are an attraction from the murderous chaps.” Mycroft smiled.

“A lady once. All I said to her was "Good day.” Nayland sighed.

“Probably sounded like a good lay to her given your East London accent.” Mycroft smiled. “And …….”

“Why am I recalled here?” Nayland cut to the subject matter.

“I have a new threat. Fu Manchu is in hibernation, presumably. The new threat here is the Oni Society.” Mycroft placed the cigar on the ashtray. “The Minister of Exchequer and other notable names have been murdered. I need your expertise to work on this.”

“One, I am not an expert on the Oni Society. I heard of them when I was in China. Two, I am a field operative and not a detective.”

“Nayland, I am assigning you to work with Doctor Mitsui Ogata. He is…."

“He is a… His name is known to me. From my reading, he is top-ranked, and there were reasons that he may be more than any dignitary. He …….”

“He brought up the issue to us just before the murder of the minister. We are trying to find the link here. but without having someone working with him, I cannot place the link at all.”

“Why not Ito Matsuke?” Nayland asked. “He is……"

“He is… for now, unrelated here.” Mycroft looked at Nayland.

“Hold your barrels there, Mycroft. Are you telling me Ito could be involved?”

“I am not to deny or comment on that. You will work with Doctor Mitsui Ogata. He is at the Brown’s Hotel, Dover Street. He will meet you for afternoon tea. Or perhaps not, but be a good lad; keep an eye on him."

Meanwhile, Doctor Mitsui Ogata was having his early lunch at the café near the hotel. He was having the taste of the legendary “Hot Brown” sandwich, an open-face turkey sandwich with bacon, pimentos, and a delicate mornay sauce. It was not from the hotel but a replica nearby at the café. It was a small café that had the sign; we served the second-best sandwich at an affordable price. He was served a pot of tea with the dainty cup. There were four tables inside, and only two tables were occupied.

“May I take a seat?” The Japanese did not look up to the one who asked. He was staring at the spread of the sandwich. The figure took the seat opposite of him, and it was a lady dressed in the sequined dress and round hat.

“The professor will address you now. He is seated behind you.” The lady smiled.

“Pardon the theatrics here, but I am a careful person.” The man seated back-to-back with the Japanese spoke.

“No, explanation required.” Doctor Mitsui Ogata replied and wrapped his right fingers around the cup of tea. “How are you, Professor Moriarty?”

“Absolutely well, Doctor Mitsui Ogata. Welcome to London…. Well, officially in your presence.”

“Arigato, Professor. I am here on diplomatic channels.” The other smiled. “I was expecting you……. Much later. How is the emperor?”

“Fu Manchu? I heard he is doing well at the retreat of his. He is not your concern here, I presumed.” The man addressed the professor, as he said. “Your presence here officially as the ranking member of the Empire of Japan is most intriguing, but will there be a conflict of interest to the Oni Society’s?”

“I am here on an official matter of…both," Doctor Mitsui Ogata replied. “One, for the ruling government, who has expressed the desire to form the treasury functions like the Bank of England.”

"Officially it may be the objective, but your true purpose was to retrieve the mining details of the dark continent.” The professor said. “Forming the Treasury Bank is only better if the vaults are loaded with items of value.”

“You are well informed, Professor.”

“The variables led to the equation. Minister Leeson was the one variable. The other killings were deemed random, but they formed a series of patterns.” The professor took his sip of tea. “Most notably, on the mining of minerals and Africa.”

“You are making too many presumptions.” Doctor Mitsui Ogata smiled at the lady. “Mining is not a major variable in Africa……… now. Cultivation of rubber takes precedence.”

“It was then, but the variables pointed to your society. In the last six months, members of the society were seen in London, Dover, and even Glasgow. They were then identified at the scenes of the killings. The killing methods were precise, and their task was to retrieve the needed reports.”

“These may be random killings and do not add to one equation.” Doctor Mitsui Ogata smiled. “I believed the numbers were low here in London; perhaps around five hundred per annum.”

“I disagreed. Those were the reported ones, but the undiscovered ones added up twice the number.” The professor sounded his unfactored variable. “Back to the society. You are here because the results of your disciples are incomplete, and you needed conclusive reports, which the minister was deemed to hold. And more to it, three of your disciples are missing, presumably dead, and you suspected that I was involved.”

“I do not have that conclusion, Professor.” Doctor Mitsui Ogata smiled. “But it did cross my mind.”

“Viola! You came here to challenge me. Doctor Mitsui Ogata, there is a Western saying, "The town isn't big for the two of us.” The professor smiled. “I have one named Holmes on my… stepping on my shadow there.”

“I……"

“Pardon me, Doctor Mitsui Ogata. What baffles me is why you acted so brash on the minister? He was your final variable, and yet you had him killed.”

“I applaud you, Professor. But your variables here may be in error.” Doctor Mitsui Ogata said. “One, I did not kill the… nor was instrumental in the killing of the minister. It was told to me. I was surprised there. He was another puzzle to my needs, or the opening to a bigger puzzle, and yet he was… killed."

“Two, I was surprised that Sherlock Holmes was called in to the discussion. I did not request his presence.” Doctor Mitsui Ogata took another sip of the tea. “However, you are generous to tell me that to tell you of my disciples here. I was missing three of them, but being killed was not in my variable of assumption. Since you laid out that variable, I will take it as the factor of their disappearance.”

“However, the works of the Oni Society do not get overlooked in my backyard. I lay down the rules and conditions here. No one acts here without my permission, including your disciple, Ito Matsuke.” Professor Moriarty made his point across. “Now that we are mutually understood and there are no more open variables, please. May I suggest that you take caution in your stay here.” The professor said. “And do take the sandwich at the hotel. It is the best and worthy of being included in your expense billings.”

“Arigato, Professor.” Doctor Mitsui Ogata smiled once more. He saw the glance of the lady over his left shoulder. “I believed the professor had left the café.”

“Good day, Doctor Mitsui Ogata.” The lady stood up and waggled off to the doorway. The doctor turned his back and saw the arrival of new patrons to the café. He then left and walked to the hotel. A telegram was sent that day to Tokyo.

Heroes Return VI: Book One London Chapter 10

 

10.

 

Sherlock asked for permission to revisit the exchequer’s office. He made the request through Mycroft and then to the Prime Minister.

“Shelly, you need not go over my head there? I know you were invited by the PM, but between us brothers, we could keep it ……. Informal.” Mycroft sat at the minister's desk while watching the brother of his pacing the chamber. “We have searched every inch of the chamber, his personal vault, and … found nothing there. I meant any reference to the Oni Society.”

Sherlock was still not satisfied and looked at every nook and crack on the book shelves.

“If you want to keep a secret, hide it even from yourself," Sherlock muttered. He looked at the rows of books there.

"Hmmm…Adam Smith, ‘The Wealth of Nations’ (1776). David Ricardo, 'On the Principles of Political Economy and Taxation' (1817)." Sherlock's fingers tapped on the spines of the books there.

“Karl Marx - Das Kapital (Volume I, 1867), the most exciting critique of capitalism and its modes of production. And yet this book is here in the chamber.” Sherlock smiled. “I can understand John Stuart Mill's Principles of Political Economy (1848) and Jean-Baptiste Say's A Treatise on Political Economy (1803).”

Fanny Hill: Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure – John Cleland (1748). Never read that, but intriguing to see it here.” Sherlock took the book out and read the first page, which was where a dedication was inked: "To Brian, lots of love from here." Mindy Kewala.”

“Not relevant to the case here.” Sherlock replaced the book. “Nothing on Africa or Asia... I doubt there will be any that modern economists will have read.”

“Were there any?”

“Actually, there were. Some of the oldest texts were from there.” Sherlock looked at Mycroft. “Discourses on Salt and Iron (Yan Tie Lun, 81 BCE) regarding state-operated industries (salt and iron), covering taxation, trade, and economic freedom, and Shihuozhi (Treatise on Economy) circa 1st century CE: a dedicated section on agricultural policy, currency, taxes, and government economic management.”

“Shelly, have you read any books in your field of expertise? I am referring to old books.” Mycroft taunts his brother.

“Yes, I did. There were some texts not taught in my college. There was Antoine Lavoisier’s Traité élémentaire de chimie (1789), considered the first modern textbook… Andreas Libavius’s Alchemia (1597), often cited as the first true textbook.” Sherlock cited the books' titles. “I read Nicolas Lémery’s Cours de Chymie (1675) and Joseph Priestley’s Experiments and Observations on Different Kinds of Air (1775-1777)."

“One day, someone will read mine on the process of deductions," Sherlock smiled. “As he read all of these here.”

“Here are some of those books and handwritten notes.” Sherlock pulled the bundles of papers out. “Interesting, these are notes on the booming era of the Congo states. Studies of minerals in the states.”

“Mycroft, what was Ms. Kewala's role here?”

At the estate of the Greystokes, Mrs. Greystokes sat with Mindy, their guest, in the library. The guest of theirs looked at the rows of books there. She was tempted to approach the shelves and ran her fingers over the books.

“Jane, you knew of my passion for reading. I read all the books I could get. I patronized the missionary churches there for their books.”

“Yes, Mindy. You borrowed all my books then.” Mrs. Greystokes smiled. “John used to bring in boxes of it, and you were there to read it."

“I did, and it was what invoked inside me to leave my father’s side then.” Mindy sighed. “That was one of the reasons. The groom was not too bad a lover to have, but I am not ready to be attended by midwives… yet."

“Mindy, about Brian…"

“Jane, we are not lovers as said by many. I am… or rather my association is purely friendship and mutual respect on the development of my father’s land in economic terms. He likes the subject, and we do spend a lot of hours together on it.” Mindy laughed. “Brian is an older man, twice my age, and I doubt he can match my prowess in sex.”

“I bought him the book titled Fanny Hill to flirt with him, but we never crossed the line there. It was all platonic.”

“Mindy, I apologize. It was ……”

“Rumours. We have our share of it. Like if John were as savage in his love.” Mindy laughed.

“He may be," Mrs. Greystokes laughed.

“Let me be serious here. Prior to last week, I was doing extensive design work on my father’s land. I was getting reports on the mineral contents there and how to extract them. We were to discuss it further at the country retreat and then present it to the other ministers when…… All this happened.” Mindy's tears welled up. “I am unsure, but it could be what the killers wanted.”

“Where are the notes?” Mrs. Greystoke asked.

“I hid them… in the house… my house.” Mindy looked at the lady.

Doctor Mitsui Ogata was marvelled at by the sight of the new Kew Garden. He was told there was an influx of local plants from his own country. The ants following Japan's 1854 reopening, with species like Aucuba japonica becoming popular. 

‘I guess they have never seen a real plant.’ Doctor Mitsui Ogata muttered.

“When Japan reopened her borders in 1854, foreign visitors and plant collectors rushed abroad to study the newly revealed wonders of this exotic world. One was a London nurseryman, John Gould Veitch, who in the 1860s sent back a range of Japanese trees and plants to his nurseries at Coombe Wood at Kingston upon Thames in Surrey; and Robert Fortune, who imported a range of exotic species to the British market.”

"The Japanese concept of the beautiful exotic garden had taken place here.” It was Ito Matsuke dressed in the grey tweed suit and homburg hat. “Gardens are their favorite pastimes."

“You are a good emissary of Japan.” Doctor Mitsui Ogata continued his stare at the plants.

“Arigato, Sensei.” Ito Matsuke did a low bow toward the senior member of the Oni Society. “I lived to serve the society."

"Seishi ichinyo" (生死一如), meaning "life and death are oneness, suggesting they are not opposites but part of a continuous, natural cycle. Doctor Mitsui Ogata said to his disciple.

“Hai, Kishi kaisei" (起死回生), meaning "wake from death and return to life," signifying a dramatic turnaround from hopelessness. Ito Matsuke bowed once again. “I know my true purpose now.”

"Have you done the task I had given?” Mitsui asked.

“Yes, I have. Your name was mentioned to Mycroft as requested.”

“A false trail perhaps, or a set trap.” The sensei said. “It was unexpected that the brother was to be there, but I will enjoy the challenge to match wits.”

“Why ……”

“Do not raise questions when they are of no necessity, Ito. Since you asked, I will be brief here. I am unaware of the workings of the plan.” Mitsui snapped at the other. “The needed answers were not with the minister; or rather we were abrupt to had it ended then. Then his untimely death and someone had searched the chamber. His country home, as make known to me was searched, and the lady was gone missing. That is now your task. Find Ms. Kewala. She may fit the pieces there.”

“Hai.” Ito bowed to his sensei.

"Sensei, Mycroft asked, on Nayland. Smith Nayland of the…"

“I know Smith Nayland. He was in China, the nemesis of Fu Manchu.”

“The crime emperor is also … missing, Sensei. I was to track him in London, but nothing was heard.” Ito sighed. “Another was on his trail, Charlie Song. He is working with Nayland.”

“Nayland? Why would Mycroft seek him? He is a wild card here.” Mitsui pondered on the questions. “The elderly Fu Manchu is another puzzle I need to fit in. Go now and report on Nayland.”

Ito Matsuke took his leave of the sensei. 

Heroes Return VI: Book One London Chapter 9

 

9.

 

The Limehouse district of the East End was the epicenter of the Chinese community then; it was a small, vibrant community of about five hundred people, catering to sailors with boarding houses, laundries, and grocery stores. The population there was a mix of Irish or East End women and the migrants, creating a mixed-race community. They were the earlier migrants who were brought to Britain to load and unload ships in London’s docks and other ports across the country. They were recruited by the East India Company and other British shipping companies. Chinese communities settled in two parts of Limehouse.

People from different parts, like the Shanghainese, lived in Pennyfields, Amoy Place, and Ming Street, while the southerners lived in Limehouse Causeway and Gill Street. Residents rented rooms in terraced houses of multiple occupants, squeezed among the factories and dockyards. The community replicated their own versions of home, including the tea houses, ever popular for a chat over a cup of tea brewed with authentic Chinese tea leaves.

The teahouse held its own identity whether it was in mainland China or London. It was the living area where the patrons could sit there and enjoy their tea or snacks, while conversations were of various topics, from the chaos of the land to the bargaining in the trade deals. Or over differing philosophies on life events. Simply adapted, varied vocal tones, but ever the resilient sanctuary for connection.

The chap seated at the corner, nursing the small cup containing the hot tea, was dressed like a coolie, the derogatory term for a male servant of Chinese descent, and worn on his feet were wooden sandals. He had on a wide conical straw hat that covered his upper face, but the unmistakable thick mustache gave the impression he was not of local descent.

Another figure sat down across from the chap, similarly dressed without the hat, but had on the pigtail for his hair design.

“The dragon resides in the cloud, while the tigers roam the hills.” The new chap spoke out while he took a fresh cup to pour his tea. He spoke with a Chinese dialect accent to blend in.

“If the Heavenly Father permits, where can I locate the cloud that housed the dragon?" The chap with the conical hat spoke with the similar drawl of the accent.

“The dragon remained hidden with the deities there; however, the tigers are devouring anyone looking for the dragon.”

"Perhaps chests of gold may unlock the dragon.” The conical-hat chap whispered. “Location is all I need to know.”

“There is an old saying: the greed of one may be the downfall of mortality.” The other chap said. “My life is precarious now. I must go.”

The chap moved to step up when the huge ‘hook sword' (hooked blade), the weapon that has a hook on the tip and a dagger-like hilt, landed on the table with the blade cutting into the top.

“Small brother Chin, you are not at my seat.” The figure who wielded the sword was short but stoutly built and had on the pigtail that was wound around his neck. He was dressed like any other there, but his snarl on his expression revealed his indulgence was not sipping tea. His accent was authentic Mandarin in tone.

“Brother Cheng, we were leaving.” The one named Chin turned to look at the conical-hat chap. “Shall we?”

“Take one more step, and you will bleed here.” The one named Cheng cautioned them. “I am…"

“Ingratitude to your father.” The one with the conical hat tossed the cup of tea at Cheng. He then stood up and found himself facing three more brutes with similar swords in their hands. The patrons at the neighbouring tables took to their heels on seeing the swords brought to the table.

“I will have your head.” Cheng rubbed the sleep from his eyes and found the punch fist swinging towards him at the jaw. He fell backward from the blow, while the one named Seong, who was the other one there, grabbed the stool he was seated on and wielded it as a weapon.

“Stand back!” Chin held the stool against the other three standing there.

“Perhaps this will work better.” The one with the conical hat leveled the Enfield pistol at them. “I got a six-round cylinder, enough for three of you here.”

“Leave now, Charlie.” The one with the conical hat pushed Chin to leave the teahouse.

It was to the end of Commercial Road before the duo stopped their running. Charlie Song found his pace to do the run despite his middle-age limitations. He leaned on the wall by the corner of the shop offering daily catch seafood.

“Nayland Smith, what on earth provoked you to meet there? We could have done it at Piccadilly or at Shaftesbury.” Charlie heaved in deep breaths. “Simplicity is difficult to achieve?”

“Nay, Charlie. I wanted to be in the depth of the place. Fu Manchu is a devious man. “I never believed him to be dead. He's cruel, callous, brilliant, and the most evil and dangerous man in the world."

“Famous words of yours there, Nayland Smith, and yet you are screwing his daughter.” Charlie smiled. “He is technically your father-in-law.”

“Fa Loh Suee is…. We eloped, and technically, we are not screwing each other. We make love, and for info, she is in America to see some friends. You can call it a sabbatical leave period.” Nayland explained.

“Call it what you may want, Nayland Smith. We were fucked just now.” Charlie leaned out to see if they were pursued by any. 

“I thought you were comfortable there.” Nayland Smith smiled. “I was. I do miss the mainland.”

Nayland Smith was an operative of the Foreign Ministry assigned to the Far East for some years. His role there was to do clandestine tasks on the criminals there, where he met the daughter of the Mandarin crime lord, Fu Manchu. He had a few run-ins with the man and barely escaped with his life. He did, however, win the heart of the daughter and, at his request, gave her sanctuary in London, but his works were still in the Far East.

“After dinner, who cares about the spoon?" Charlie mocked the other on having gotten the daughter; why bother with the father?

“In your society, or rather in my mind, the extended family still matters.” Nayland smiled. “Even though my father-in-law would like to serve me to his tigers.”

“Okay, here is what I may know," Charlie sighed. “I have many sons, and hopefully they will not tear me apart. Back to the man we sought, he is missing or lying low. There is a new threat on the horizon. Have you heard of the Oni Society?”

“Oni Society? Scant notes on them. They were from Japan. I was not posted there. Ian Masterson was the one in the lead.”

“Ian Masterson is missing.” Charlie leaned out to look again. “He went missing alongside the steamer that was ferrying him home.”

“I heard that he is dead, but does that mean I am to replace him? I cannot do that. I am now back in Blighty and will remain here.” Nayland protested.

“That is where you need to know now. Mycroft Holmes is asking you to report back. Me? I am just another coolie at the docks.”

"How did he get my name?” Nayland asked. “You could be the better candidate.”

“I got sons to take care of, and you…. You only got one faraway lady to fantasize on. And no sons yet.”

“Fuck you.” Nayland snapped out.

“Pay me my shilling first. You owed me one.” Charlie Song laughed.

“Soon I will.” Nayland Smith smiled. “When you leave this place.”

Heroes Return VI: Book One London Chapter 8

 

8.

 

It was morning when Watson took the familiar steps up the flight of stairs and then opened the door to the one place he had dreaded returning. He saw Holmes at the fireplace examining what appeared to be an arrow. The latter heard his arrival but did not acknowledge the other.

Watson hung up his coat and was about to remove his shoes when Sherlock voiced his opinion.

“Arrow sizes vary greatly across cultures, ranging from eighteen inches to six feet. The arrow shafts are made from strong, lightweight wood, bamboo, or reeds. The arrowhead or projectile point is the primary functional part of the arrow and plays the largest role in determining its purpose. Some arrows may simply use a sharpened tip of the solid shaft, but it is far more common for separate arrowheads to be made, usually from metal, horn, or some other hard material. Fletchings are found at the back of the arrow and act as airfoils to provide a small amount of force used to stabilize the flight of the arrow. They are designed to keep the arrow pointed in the direction of travel by strongly damping down any tendency to pitch or yaw.”

“The English longbow, namely the Battle of Agincourt, made it well known. It was an English victory in the Hundred Years' War. It took place on 25 October 1415 near Agincourt in northern France.”

“The designs are known as the self-bow, made from a single piece of wood. Traditional English longbows are self-bows made from yew wood. The bowstave is cut from the radius of the tree so that sapwood (on the outside of the tree) becomes the back and forms about one third of the total thickness; the remaining two thirds or so are heartwood. Yew sapwood is good only in tension, while the heartwood is good in compression. The ……”

“You are still not talking to me, Watson? It's elementary, my dear ……” Sherlock was snapped at by the doctor.

“Holmes, I was… attacked on the train going back. My surgeries today must be rescheduled. People may die due to that.” Watson glared at the other. “What did you get me into?”

“It is……. Not my calling.” Sherlock saw the murderous look on Watson’s expression. “I do not know. I meant, why did you attack except that they have associated you with me?"

“Being associated with you marked me for death? I was in the uniform of the Frontier Army, which had me then marked for death by the tribes, or worse, tortured before death. And I was in the service for the Queen and country.” Doctor John Watson sighed. “But with you, I thought we had……. Oh, God. Not all our villains are dead or imprisoned.”

“Do tell me, Watson. How were you attacked?” Sherlock lowered the arrow.

“By a lady, or more specifically, an oriental lady with the skills of a trained killing machine." Watson sat down at his usual seat. “Not my preference.”

“Lady assailant… oriental… Hmmm… I am intrigued.” Sherlock looked to the arrow.

“Holmes, I have retired from murders and killings. I am trying to save lives.” Watson was still infuriated.

“Most absolutely, if I may coin that term. Or most unfortunately, but … I meant to say I was not to know that the case was … involving. All I did was…"

“Spare me that thought.” Watson paused there. “I happened to be in London to get supplies.”

“I shall not…. Intrude but..." Sherlock looked to the doctor. “I do need your… guidance here, Watson. I am……"

“Are you onto your morphine again?” Watson sprang out in anger. “If you are, I am walking out.”

“I am… clean, Watson. Sober clean. I do have my urges... withdrawals, but I focus on the issues that matter. It is working." Sherlock sounded sad then. “It is not the same without you here, though. I gotten……"…"

“End the melodramatics, Holmes.” Watson looked at the other. “You are … an ill patient to me until you are really cured.”

“And you are a doctor.” Sherlock looked at the doorway when Mrs. Hudson arrived with the tray of tea and sandwiches.

“A happy beginning then.” Mrs. Hudson stepped from the doorway. “Tea, anyone? I got sandwiches too.”

“I will be resting… alone in my chamber.” Watson got up.

“Touchy, isn't he?” Mrs. Hudson watched the doctor walk to his chamber. “You are not the best patient to have to care for."

“Bad evening. I will have the sandwiches, please.”

It was not so for the Greystokes, seated across from each other on the long table with the candlesticks and bouquet of morning-picked blooms, and with their guest seated next to Jane’s left side, and the cups of tea turning cold, the air there was colder.

“More tea, my lady. " The maid stepped up with the pot of tea. Jane shook her head, and the maid proceeded towards his lordship. John had gestured his refusal and then looked at the guest.

“Please do…" His Lordship's eyes did not leave the look on the ladyship.

“Let me explain, Lord Greystokes.” Mindy looked at the other across the table.

“John will do.” The man cut in.

“A few weeks ago, Brian told me of the new development in the Far East with the threat of the group called the Oni Society. His section in the Office of the Defense was monitoring the activities of the others in the colonies, which include China and the Southeast, in which Japan had shown great interest. He got reports of the acts of the clan, that their followers were doing their work there, and how some leaders were … controlled by them. He had then reported to the PM Office and to Scotland Yard, but he was asked to focus on other matters.”

“Do you know who Brian was working with?” John asked.

“Yes, Ian Masterson," Mindy replied. “It was Ian who told Brian to lay off.”

“I thought you said…" John cut in.

“Ian Masterson… I am aware of him. He was given the task by the PM, and he told Brian to shift attention. And not be a ninnyhammer…".

“Ninny…" John was baffled and looked to Jane. He looked away in case Jane told him to read about his English historical culture.

“It’s English slang for being a ninny or simpleton.” Mindy eased the concern before she fixed the focus back.

“Ian Masterson wants him to back off. He was asked to focus on the development of the Germans and the Tsar. The former for their offices on the continent were not reporting on schedule. And the Tsar, there were issues of revolts.”

“The Russian Empire did not participate in the formal what they termed it, the ‘Scramble for Africa.' " They were more on Asian expansion, limited naval power, and geographical constraints; Russia was a distance away. Mindy looked at Jane. “It did not stop the Belgians from creating another colony in the Congo State.”

“They desired to create a free state there. Do not get too sentimental over it. I did read the news, Mindy.” Jane retorted back.

“Yes, it was not to throw Brian off. He searched in deep and found a link to my father. He then decided to collate it all with me, but we did not discuss it much here. He had to go home to his family. Poor man.”

“Poor man indeed.” Lord Greystokes snapped out. “Pardon me, ladies. I meant no offense there.”

“This week, we had planned a retreat to the countryside, and then came the mail for him. He was to return to London to attend a meeting.” Mindy looked at Lord Greystokes. “Coitus interruptus then.”

“Mindy, I got a telegram this morning. Brian was killed last night," Lord Greystokes said. He was used to death, and his manners of expressing it were minimal at best.

“John!” Lady Greystokes exclaimed. “You are an infernal beast when it comes to talking about the dead.”

But Mindy had then left the table and retreated to her chamber.

“John, you are an imbecile with your manners.” Lady Greystokes stressed again and took leave of the table then.

“All I did was speak the truth.” Lord Greystoke held the blank expression. “You never complained when I was beastly.”

Mycroft had the better expression.

“Ito, it truly dismayed me that my minister was killed by our association.” The British extraordinary gentleman made his view across the distance. He was dressed in the dark overcoat with the top hat and was standing a short distance from the banks of the River Thames, looking at the London Tower. He looked at the barges sailing down with the pickup of the wares from the seaport to the inner parts of London.

“And mine too, but both of us know that the clan is powerful and its reach is wide.” Ito stood by him with two feet apart, facing the same scene. “We both knew from our correspondences that their assassins are deadly.”

“Ito, tell me more of the clan. Who is in the clan?” Mycroft had his hands inside the overcoat of his. “I know I was briefed before, but do tell again.”

Mycroft was unaware of the threat to the minister. And Japan was like the distance of the moon from London. Ito Matsuke was one of the knowledgeable ones in London who specialized in the criminal circles, especially the oriental ones. He was a retired naval officer and resided in London. He was with the Foreign Office and worked with Ian Masterson. He spent his last four years in London.

“The clan, with its name that means 'the demon,' held seven sections in its rank with their leader overseeing it. Each leader is independent of the other sections, but there are tales that among them is the main leader, the demon they call "Emperor." We know not who that is."

“Not even yourself, Ito. You are…" Mycroft smiled with sarcasm in his tone.

“I may be the one in the know of the clan, but I know not of the seven leaders. I know not my own, for the leader is behind the silk screen. But I suspect that Doctor Mitsui Ogata, whom you met, is one of seven. He held the rank of the Senior Demon.”

“So, Doctor Mitsui Ogata is a member of the Oni.” Mycroft muttered.

“Perceived to be, but the Oni is rather secret. Doctor Mitsui Ogata is here.”

“I met him, Ito," Mycroft said. “He messaged my minister to call for a meeting with the exchequer, and on that day soon after, the minister died. We were to discuss Treasury functions, but he highlighted the presence of Oni Society in the meeting. But why?”

“Perhaps he wants you to investigate the Oni Society, and……. Could be a tussle of power there," Ito replied. “The Oni Society is getting powerful, and the influence of power may be the cause. And if they control the Treasury functions, they will be formidable too.”

“Ito, where is Nayland now?” Mycroft asked.