Heroes Return VI: Book One London Chapter 25

 

25.

 

In the 1880s, dusk in London transformed the city into a dramatic, atmospheric scene; the sky was a dark blue, punctuated by the faint, warm glow of gaslights battling the thick fog. The rivers and canals flowing past London were a scene of shimmering reflections coupled with the industrial and human discarded activities. The smog from coal fires creates a moody, noir-like environment where horse-drawn hansom cabs move through wet, cobblestone streets. In certain parts of the city, the ladies are out in droves to take on clients, more so at Whitechapel. The dusk hours were also a time of high crime risk, with dimly lit areas becoming notorious for dangers.

The dimly lit evenings, spared the working hours, were also a signal to gather and vent their frustrations at anyone deemed a threat. The restless youths joined into gangs and turned their anger towards others, with the fuzz (the police then) stretched thin to control.

One could avoid those scenes by staying in the affluent sections of the city and patronizing the gentlemanly clubs for the game of bridge or horse bantering for the coming weekend races. Or just read a book in silence.

“Nayland, I am fine to get you in to the club if you desire." Mycroft lowered his shoulder to hold his lager at the U-shaped bar counter at the tavern selected by the other. The u-shaped bar counter was set at the rear, with the tables next to it, but any regular will grab the seat at the counter. The bar counter was manned by the bartender and assisted by two barmaids, who were never short of offering an ear to the taller-than-tall tales. Anything extra was charged more from a view to the grab.

“We will be fine, Mycroft. Henry here held a good eye for anything extraordinary.” Nayland dressed, as always, like a commoner lad in the lesser known part of London. A miner from Newcastle will have held a glass towards him like a brother who just surfaced then.

“I am not implying. I am overdressed.” Mycroft shifted on his seat, still dressed in his usual tweeds and polished shoes.

“Nice ones and twos, mate.” The person on Mycroft's right complimented the polished shoes.

“Bugger off, Stewart. There is a seat by the window there, or you leave it headless at it.” Henry stepped in and saw to it that the man slithered off.

“Your friend is here, Nayland.” Henry nodded to Nayland. The figure dressed like anyone else walked up to Nayland and handed over the note. Nayland in return handed over the few guineas promised.

“Serve the friend a lager, please.” Nayland told Henry, who motioned to the man to seat himself at the other end of the counter.

“Your own Baker’s Boys, huh?” Mycroft looked at the man who walked with a limp on the right leg to the end of the counter.

Corporal Mitch Kilney, retired, Regiment at Kowloon. He was also a sapper with the Royal Engineers. A good man and a better lookout than any scout I had known. He was wounded in the right thigh but stayed till his son got killed here last year. I've been back to take care of the family. I looked him up when I was posted back to Blighty.”

"Interesting…" Nayland moved the subject. “Mindy Kewala held a lease there at Farringdon and was seen a few times there but hardly stayed overnight. She travelled by train to Liverpool or Dover but did not stay there. She took the next train back the same day.”

“How did you know all of this? Did you have her observed?”

“No, I did not. The unit at Farringdon was recently the subject of the gossips of the neighbors. The train rides were not on her but Ian Masterson.”

“Ian Masterson? Why? He went missing at sea.” Mycroft was surprised.

“Reported yes. But what I learned later was he was seen in meetings with Fu Manchu. Charlie and I were informed, and we had him trailed. The old man was seen in Liverpool and Dover; both hold seaports. An Englishman fitting of Ian Masterson was seen recently there. I had the docks under surveillance and also Limehouse. I have my friends at Liverpool and Dover.”

“Why did you not report it?” Mycroft asked.

“I do not trust the office. The old man may have his informers there, and Ian Masterson may have informers there too. I was waiting on Ian Masterson at the teahouse where I was set on the friends of the old man. I barely escaped with Charlie, who met me there. No one knew of the meet, and that meant I was followed or Charlie did."

“Charlie later told me about the Oni Society involvement, briefly, but before I could do the next, Charlie left Blighty.”

“How did you suspect Ian Masterson?” Mycroft asked.

“From general descriptions. It was not like we have a photo of him in the files.” Nayland was agitated. “Ian Masterson has a scar on his left cheek courtesy of an attempt by a coolie at Shanghai. He was waylaid drunk going to his unit and got slashed, but he killed the coolie.”

“It was not on his file.” Mycroft recalled the notes that he read.

“I said that Ian Masterson has friends in the office.” Nayland repeated his words. ‘I have a scar too. It is on the left side of my buttock when the bullet fired by Lo Shue creased it next to my butthole. I am sure that was not reported.”

“Is it healed?” Mycroft asked.

“No, I got two outlets for the shit I carry.” Nayland snapped out. “Yes, it healed with love from Lo Shue.”

“Leave out the details, please. Tell me more on Ian Masterson.” Mycroft shifted again on his seat. His left buttock felt agitated.

“Ian was seen travelling to London by train, but they lost him at London Station. He was also seen at Farringdon.” Nayland looked towards Henry for more lager. “It may be a coincidence or I may be right. Ian Masterson is involved with the old man and Ms. Kewala, but where and what still eludes me.”

“We may know the why. The mining rights.” Mycroft cut in. "Let's see Sherlock now.”

“No, Mycroft. I have other matters to do.” Nayland stood up. “Clean your shoes. You've got a pony on your heels.” (Pony" is a reference to dog shit in Cockney slang.)

“Pony? The race is not due till tomorrow.” Mycroft looked at his shoes. “Oh. I see the pony. Where did I step on that?”

Meantime, Lord Greystokes took fancy to the dinner spread at the table, watched by Holmes and Watson.

“I am not here if not for the request of Jane.” Lord Greystokes looked up from the plate. “She asked me to seek you on ………” “Mindy Kewala. We are aware of your guest there, or rather ex-guest, John.” Sherlock looked at the man who was seated there.

“Do not address me as John. I am still the Lord of the Greystokes by name and rank.” The man looked at Sherlock. “Our friendship died years ago.”

“Yet you seek me now?”

“It was Jane who asked me. And this is my payment for your fees. Find Mindy Kewala and whoever murdered my friends. I have to return tonight to my estate. Jane is alone.” The Lord of Greystokes stood up. He looked at Watson. “Where is the privy?”

Mindy Kewala sat at the corner of the chamber where she took refuge in a part of London rarely heard of. She was dressed back in the simple gown that many ladies wore then, replacing the simple frock she wore when she arrived at Farringdon.

“Do you want to eat?” Lieutenant Gavin McLeod had changed from his uniform to the simple, close-fitting shirt with cuffed sleeves and small, close-lying collars topped with vertical buttons or laces that stretched to the man’s midsection. His pants fell loosely to the ankle and were usually held up by a pair of elastic suspenders or “braces” made in dark colors or with subtle plaids and muted colors like light grey or light brown. He retained his military boots.

Mindy shook her head and then laid it on her hands.

“Mindy, you must eat something.” The lieutenant tried to coax her.

“I am not hungry. Where is Ian Masterson?” Mindy pressed on her concern.

“I have no idea. He may be…"

“Stop it, Gavin. Since that day, Brian got killed, and then more were to die. The Waziri warriors were not needed to die. I had known them during my visits and there when I was to stay with them for meals.”

“Mindy, the deaths of the Waziri were not my doing. I would have stopped that.” The lieutenant sighed. “I do not know much. I was told to meet you there, and all it took was so fast.”

“I shot him… to save you.” Mindy sighed.

“Mindy, I…" The lieutenant was cut off when the man they were expecting arrived.

“Lieutenant McLeod, I will take over.” The man walked in dressed in the expensive coat over his three-piece suit. The man removed his top hat and brushed his hair off the forehead. His scar was seen on the left cheek.

“Mukolo (elder in the Congo language) Masterson, I am grateful to see you here. Tell me what is happening." Mindy approached the elderly man.

“Mbote, ndeko mwasi" (Hello, sister/young woman). I am here now.” Ian Masterson hugged the lady. “The events unfolded fast. The senior from the Oni Society triggered so many deaths.”

“Was the death of Brian needed?” Mindy snapped in. “He is a friend.”

“Yes, Brian is my Leki (young brother). I regret his death.” Ian settled the lady on the nearby seat. “It was not my call. The Yomi Demons acted on their own.”

“Were they not your men?” Mindy asked.

“I am an adviser. Ito Matsuke is their leader here in London.” Ian Masterson walked to the table to pour himself a drink. “Do you have the mining rights report?”

“Is that your concern?” Mindy was upset.

“Mindy, please control yourself. I am taking over the operation.” Ian Masterson took a gulp of the drink. “The traveling is killing me. The train and the carriage were…"

“Please, Mukolo. Who ordered the killing of the Waziri warriors?”

“I made that call. I had to do it to protect you.” Ian Masterson looked at the lieutenant. “He who was to protect you failed.”

“I did not fail, Sir," Lieutenant Gavin McLeod protested. “When she… moved to the Greystokes? She did it because she was rattled. And you did nothing.” Ian Masterson did not hide his scorn then. “Now, where are papers?”

“It is not with me.” Mindy told the man. “I… I sent it to Mycroft before I left for the estate. I had instructions to leave it undelivered until I give the second confirmation. Not all but half of it. The other half is still hidden.”

“Bitch!” Ian Masterson snapped at the lady. “玩火自焚 (wán huǒ zì fén): Play with fire and get burnt. Where are the papers that you hid?”

"Usiniweke maskio ya mbuzi niliwe na chui" (Do not put the ears of a goat on me to be eaten by a leopard). Mindy hissed at the man.