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.
