Heroes Return VI: Book One London Chapter 30

 

30.

 

 

“All abroad!” The Chief Steward of the Trojan called out to the ones waiting at the dock. “We sailed within the hour.”

The Chief Steward sported the seafaring look on his chin; the classic, rugged style defined by a full, thick beard grown long; past the chin and paired with a heavy moustache. He wore the mariner cap with the doble breasted dark jacket, with the crisp white pants and dark leather shoes. He had a misstep on his footings, and had balance himself on the railings.

“Taken aback huh, Chief.” ( Surprised or shocked, originating from when wind shifts and blows sails flat against the mast.) “Or was it the earlier than usual, bottle of rum, huh?” Jonah the assistant steward nudged the Chief.

“I had not any drink as yet, Jonah.” The Chief frowned at the sailor. “And we ain’t at sea yet, Jonah. So, behave yourself or you will find yourself assigned to the decks below.”

“You seem to be off balance there.” Jonah looked at the Chief. “You are sure to take on the journey. I heard your last medical report held some questions that you need to stay on shore.”

“Not a whisper on my report. I am fine as a dandy lad now. Now get yourself on deck.” The Chief called on the sailor.

“Any loose cannon?” (An unpredictable person, originating from dangerous, unsecured cannons on deck ). Jonah asked. “The last journey had us a lunatic who had us some hard times chasing him around the decks. I …….”

“Deck it, Jonah. The only loose cannon is yourself. I am akin to lashing you to the anchor and tossing it over without the rope.” The last journey from the south had them a passenger who was delirious with the fever ailment and had to be restrained in the cabin. However, he escaped several times, and quoted the words of God on the decks, causing unease among the other passengers.

“That will the day the ship sails with the Flying Dutchman.” Jonah smiled. (The Flying Dutchman is a legendary 17th-century ghost ship doomed to sail the oceans forever, serving as a dreaded omen of doom for sailors.)

“Clam it, sailor.” The Chief put a stop to the jabbering sailor, who is his Aunt Petunia’s son and God blessed the lady for having still able to breathe at the elderly age of over a century.

“Jonah, we had a change of passengers listing. Some of them cancelled at the last moment; thirteen to be exact, and was replaced by a group who paid hefty for the passage. They called themselves the Pure Hearted.”

“Another pack of God’s fearing offerings. God, why can we not have decent passengers who will not tell us their interpretation of God.”

“Jonah, place them in the same deck, and bloody well tell Jerome to keep his distance from them. I do want him offering any heretics passages to these ‘puritans’.”

“Bloody works to relocate the cabins.” Jonah cursed out. “And Chief, we have two other new passengers in First Class; one lordy person and his aide.”

“Oh great. Check on Javier if we stocked on the caviar? We may need that for the lord.”

“I checked, and Javier said, sod off. He will serve the Lord, cod and haddock like any decent Englishman will be favoured any day.” Jonah said the exact words from the dining staff.

“Clam it, Jonah.” The Chief then turned to the newly arrived. “Welcome aboard the Trojan.”

“Master Masterson, and my entourage. Members of the Pure Hearted.” Ian Masterson who was in disguise, handed over the stacks of tickets and stepped aboard.

“Welcome, gentlemen. Aha, I see your names. Late entry but we have a more cabins than passenger this trip. I am ever pleased to accommodate the congregation members. We will prefer to be left alone and please have our meals sent to the cabin daily.”

The Chief smiled at the leader of the congregation. He did a head count and then reached for the tickets.

“This way, Sir.” The Chief counted the numbers of tickets. “Twelve, I got the numbers.”

The Chief then signalled Jonah to lead the way, and watched the passing faces of the entourage with a drawn smile across his face. They took off after Jonah while the Chief grind his teeth from muttering any profanities. In the thoughts of the Chief, them jacks looked they were sauteed from Pure Hell instead of Pure Hearted. He had seen his share of bad fellows and those looked they just been released from Newgate Prison.

“My ticket, Sir.” The Chief was jolted from his daymare and stared at the extended offering of the new guest. “Lord John Greystokes.”

The aristocrat had his servant to carry his luggage.

“My luggage’s are on the pier. I do not need your staff to assist.” Lord Greystokes indicated to the four sets of huge bags.

“My aide will carry my bags.” Lord Greystokes walked on, and was followed by two dark skinned men, whom the captain stopped.

“Sorry, not darkies on this deck.”

“Pardon me, Captain. They are my aides and will stay with me.” Lord Greystokes confronted the other. “Are you saying that they are not allowed?”

“No…… I meant to say, that the servants stayed below deck.” The captain explained the conditions imposed by the ship owner.

“Who is it? Lil Abaner. I will tell him I was mistreated and will never sail on his ships.” Lord Greystokes turned to leave.

“Lord Greystokes, my apologies. I can make an exception to the condition. They may stay with  you but they have to remain inside during the journey.”

“Amicable but the matter will be raised to your owner.” Lord Greystokes then proceeded on board.

“I will inform the staff. Please come abroad, Lord Greystokes. My deck staff will attend to you. The first-class cabins are on the upper deck. We have the private privy to the cabin.” The Chief smiled and saw the rifle bag carried by the attending aide.

“Are you travelling for a safari? The Sharps rifle is a good match against the savages there.”

“No, it is not a Sharps. It is a Winchester, and the rifle is to kill the white poachers …… truly savages. I do not consent to any safari. And also, the rude people.” Lord Greystokes stepped past the Chief. The person who followed though was a stout tall man.

“Mycroft, Government attaché. I am ……. an aide to Lord Greystokes. I am white and Victorian.” Mycroft smiled. “And I also carry a long bag. It contains my rifle.”

“I also used the mallet on the killing spree. I like to leave a bigger hole.” The man smiled. “Again, Mycroft is the name.”

“I am impressed. Jerome, please carry the gentleman’s bags.” The Chief placed on a wide smile.

“Not needed. I am capable of carrying my own.” Mycroft smiled and took after Lord Greystokes.

“Nathan, Paul. Missionary man. Here to speak of God’s words.” The passenger stepped on board next. He handed the ticket to the Chief. The man sported a short beard and had on the small, wire-rimmed spectacles with coloured glass; amber in shade. He wore the dark priest frock and the white collar. He carried on two suitcases with him.

“Welcome abroad, Sir. You will be boarded at the second deck.” The Chief smiled. “There are the other group of Pure Heated …… pardon me, Pure Hearted, who will be your neighbours.”

“I will not stay with them. They are puritans, and lack the moral upholding that I held.” The passenger looked at the Chief. “Give me another cabin on another deck for myself.”

“So be it, Sir. You will occupy the other end of the deck. We trust you will enjoy your journey.” The Chief smiled. He took a glance at  his watch and smiled. It was time to sail then.

“Blood good lot these are.”

 

Heroes Return VI: Book One London Chapter 29

 

29.

 

It did not take long for Sherlock Holmes to get the invite from Ian Masterson. It was late morning when the detective was at his seat at the unit when he got the knock on his door. He looked up and saw Mrs. Hudson admitting to the man.

“Ian Masterson, I presume.” Sherlock, dressed in the dressing gown over his usual tweeds, smiled when he lowered the dark pipe from his errant attempt to clean it daily. The chamber was filled with the aromatic scent of the tobacco. His preference was the black shag, coarse-cut leaves, and dark in shade. He kept his tobacco in the Persian carpet slippers of his.

“I could tell you are not a pipe smoker. The mixture I like……" Sherlock looked at the man.

“Black Shag.” Ian Masterson was dressed in the fine blue Savoy-cut three-piece suit. He stepped up towards the detective while removing his top hat.

“I am not a pipe smoker myself but have been around lots who do that.” Ian Masterson smiled. “A regular occurrence of the trade I am in. May I seat myself?”

“Please do. Watson is not around.” Sherlock looked at the other. “Your ……”

“I do spend a lot of time with the captains of the sail, and they loved their pipes more than their wives.”

“Yes, sea captains smoked pipe tobacco, as it is calming, and for some, it is a social ritual. A key comfort during long, stressful, and monotonous voyages, and pipes are ideal in windy conditions. Tobacco allowed for a slow burn rather than rapid smoking, and the pipes could be capped to contain hot ash and embers on wooden ships.”

“Fair winds and following seas.” Ian Masterson cut in with the favorite of sayings of the seafarers, to denote good luck. “For me, despite all my liaisons with them, I have not picked up any smoking lures as yet.”

“Good man there.” Sherlock studied the man he heard but did not meet. “You are here, and not with Mycroft. I presume to conclude that you are here for the reports… partial ones that were redirected to me. I am taking that presumption.”

“Ahoy, matey! The captains will call out on sighting another vessel.” Ian Masterson smiled. “I like your direct presumption. We are all at sea here for this precarious treasure, and you cut the sails to meet me on open seas.”

“Open seas it is. I got the partial reports, and you, I believe, hold the other part. Are we to trade?” Sherlock asked. “I believe the term is parley.”

“Parley?” Ian Masterson looked at the other. “For what are we to trade?”

“Ms. Kewala, I will presume you have her as a… trade-off." Sherlock picked up the pipe. “Please allow me to clear the air here. I am a busy man. I need my breath of fresh air.”

Sherlock approached the window and opened it. He took a deep breath and then turned towards the man.

“Wrong, Mr. Holmes. I am not here to trade… pardon me, parley. Actually, I am here to tell you that I will collect it… perhaps later.” Ian smiled. “I am not any man nor captain of the seas. However, I am a sleuth in the business of spies. We are also called operatives, and we do not trade but retrieve the items we need by whatever means.”

“Conclusively by force if need be.” Sherlock Holmes took him back to his seat. “I abhor violence. It's needless, but I do accept that it is one means of intervention. And I expect that from you.

“I do not like violence unless needed.” Ian Masterson stood up. “However, our matter in London is not over as yet. I will collect the reports.”

“Which I am sadly to inform you are no longer with me.” Sherlock looked at the man. “I will cut your effort here. I have sent the reports along with Mycroft and Nayland to the Congo. The conclusion of the reports lies there.”

“Unwary of that action. You are truly a master genius at it.” Ian Masterson stood up. “If they are on their way, then I will take my journey there. Shall we say the rush to the treasure is afoot?"

“Not a parable of mine. Parables are of moral or religious matters. But I do use the term "afoot" much more to agitate Watson to move. He does dislike it. Well, he had not used the privy yet.”

“Well, I must be on my way," said Ian Masterson. “Privy called for me.”

“At an instance delayed. What about Ms. Kewala?” Sherlock asked.

“She is with me and will be till I find the treasure. I liked that term there. Treasure sounds fresh to scoundrels like myself.” Ian Masterson smiled. “I am amused by the ranks I am associated with.”

“I thought the word would be fascination.” Sherlock looked at the man.

Amusement is light-hearted, often humorous, whereas fascination, deeply intense, is beyond my reach for now. When I said "scoundrel," I was amused, for it delighted my fantasy to the ranks of Robin Hood, but I am not that fascinated by that rank, for Robin Hood is not the person I want to be. I prefer to rob and be rich.”

“So are scoundrels," Sherlock said. “Although they lacked the morals for their action.”

“True, scoundrels are supposedly miscreants of society, but they have the essence of one being a villain.” Ian Masterson turned to the door. “And please do not delay me. I know you have signaled your friends to come to your rescue, which was unnecessary. I had no intention to hurt you. I just wanted the reports, which are not in your possession now.”

Ian Masterson took his leave then. Sherlock sat there and lit his pipe. It was then Mycroft and Nayland appeared from an adjacent chamber.

“Why did you not let me nab the scoundrel?” Mycroft asked.

“Well, it was my intention to set him on his journey. I had deduced that he has the other half of the reports and also Ms. Kewala in his custody. He has shown his urgency to get the mining rights. And more to it, his presence here tells me of his role there.” Sherlock looked at Nayland. “He will be on the ship to Africa soon, or perhaps on the same one as you."

“The Trojan? It sails today.” Nayland remembered his trip. Sherlock ignored the man.

“To your question, Mycroft. If we had acted on Ian Masterson now, we would have jeopardized the life of Ms. Kewala. I had anticipated the early arrival of Ian Masterson today… far too early, to be honest, and also by chance I saw him alighting the carriage, and then I had sent the two of you to the next chamber. Now, we are in the meeting of our objective to close the case.”

“By golly, who was that, Holmes?” It was Watson who just stepped back to the chamber. “Was he in a rush to the privy? I must tell Mrs. Hudson to add one more unit. I was reading the sports section while there.”

“No concern, my dear Watson. It was elementary that the man was in a rush.” Sherlock took a puff on his pipe. “He is to catch a ship.”

“Did I ship in too early? It is your infernal pipe and God; so early I am to suffocate.” Watson on occasion insults Sherlock on this choice of tobacco. “I prefer my 'ship's tobacco’ to your black shag.”

Watson took to his seat. “Who sat here? It's warm. Not exactly the condition I prefer.”

“I had opened the window to clear the air, dear Watson. And the one who sat there was Ian Masterson.” Sherlock explained. “He was here to ... parley on the mining reports.”

“A pirate intention no less.” Watson reached for his pipe.

“He assumed I was signaling for help when I wanted to clear the chamber of my smoke.” Sherlock took another puff on his pipe.

“Do keep the window open. I cannot understand the both of you and your pipes.” Mycroft made his statement while stepping over to the window. “As it…. Smog had engulfed over London and was already suffocating us, and you’re smoking just made it unbearable.”

“Exactly my point, Mycroft. Thank goodness the need did not extend in your family.” Watson added on the insult.

“Calm down, Mycroft. It's not like we took your prized bear from you.” Sherlock teased the other. “Now, back to the matter on hand. I had set Ian Masterson on the trail to Africa, and he will act on it. I will suggest that Mycroft followed Nayland on that journey. I had telegraphed Lord Greystokes to follow suit.”

“Watson and I will be in London. There is still the issue with Moriarty, which we need to keep an eye on, and one other name, Mitsui Ogata. I doubt the latter will go to Africa as yet, but may want to clear the name of the Oni Society; namely, the Demon Society will need to be expunged.”

“What about Fu Manchu?” Mycroft asked.

“The crafty man is in London and I assumed he would not be a pawn in the game. He will act on the loose ends of the outcome.” Sherlock looked at Watson. “Are you with me?”

“Looks like I have few options here.” Watson looked at his papers left on the table. “If I am not, you may well bloody auction my seat to some others.”

“Good on the thought, though I did offer it to the Salvation Army (founded in 1878), but they declined.” Sherlock's rarest moment of humor was seen then. “They said it lacked comfort.”

“I have another meeting today. Catch you all later.” Watson was to take off when Sherlock stopped him.

“Watson, could you…" Sherlock looked at Watson. “I am……"

“I will see to that. I am aware of yours and find ……. Let me check.” Doctor Watson grabbed his hat.

“What was that about?” Mycroft asked and saw Sherlock’s right hand was shaking. He knew then.

Across the city, Ito Matsuke stood patiently at the disused warehouse, waiting for the arrival of his sensei. He got the invite by telegraph and arrived there earlier by an hour. It was getting to past noon, and patience was one of the virtues taught to him. He was dressed in the samurai armor, tosei-gusoku, or modern armor favored for movement mobility. It was a design shift from the heavier o-yoroi armor, with kabuto (helmet), dp (chest armor), sode (shoulder guards), kote (sleeve armor), haidate (thigh guard), and suneate (shin guards). He had on the double katana tucked into the waist belt. His men-yoroi, or face mask, was a stark impression of the Yomi Demon with the double horn and angry expression.

The shade of his armor was in red and black.

“You come prepared as I requested.” Mitsui Ogata stepped from the dark shadow, dressed in the simple yukata kimono suit, and held the long katana and the shorter wakizashi sword.

“I admire your katana.” The sensei indicated the two katana blades.

“Muramusa origin.” Ito laid his hands on the hilt of the katanas.   The design held the characteristics on its blade, renowned for distinctive, wavy, and flamboyant temper lines (hamon) known as midare-ba and often featured a tongue-shaped tang (nakago). It, however, was said to be cursed, associated with bad luck for the Tokugawa clan, including injuries to Tokugawa Ieyasu himself, thus leading to a ban on their ownership and the nickname "cursed swords."

“Muramusa ……. Great craftmanship despite the link to the dark history of its bearer.” Ogata smiled. " I have with me is my grandfather’s forge blades. Not Masamune, but my ancestors did learn from his disciple, Hikoshiro Sadamune. The katana is the sword, but the blade is the one who cuts the wounds. Beware the blade, for it held two sharp edges.”

“The worth of the blade is not on it but the bearer of it. Is this to be our duel of death, Sensei?” Ito asked. “You mock me for being dressed for it, and you settled for the commoner’s kimono.”

“Do not mock the costume of your people. This is the popular form of our nation.” The Sensei stopped his disciple. “And why the sudden arrogance in your manner?”

“Sensei, if I may address you one last time. You are here not to teach me, nor do I need your guidance. We know the outcome today. I am here to duel with you.”

“No, we are to duel. We are here to be taught a lesson on loyalty.” Ogata snapped back. “You have forgotten the teaching of mine, taught to me by my sensei.”

“Why do you not don the armor of the samurai? It will make the duel as worthy.”

“I am no longer a samurai. My lord, if you recall, is dead. I am now a ronin, a masterless samurai.” The sensei reminded the other. “I do not have to don the armor of the samurai. I am without a lord, but I still hold onto my principle of my teaching. Do you recall your learning, Ito Matsuke?”

“Yes.” Ito Matsuke glared at the man he called his Sensei. “Loyalty to death, I swear. I am loyal but to me as the new lord, Lord Yomi of the Yomi Demons.”

“Traitorous, Ito. That Lord you mentioned is not a samurai but a jackal in the midst among warriors.” The sensei roared out. “Today I will terminate your arrogance, as it’s the task of the master to do so on its errant disciple.”

 

Heroes Return VI: Book One London Chapter 28

 

28.

 

Mindy Kewala sat by herself in the chamber where she was kept locked in. The windows were blacked out, and she was unsure where she was kept. The door was unlocked, and Lieutenant Gavin McLeod walked in.

“Mindy, I…"

“Gavin, you may remain silent. I am not talking to you.”

“Mindy, please understand. I am on your side. I am trying to avoid any harm to you.” Lieutenant Gavin McLeod approached the lady.

“Stay away, Gavin. What we had is over now.”

“Mindy ……" Lieutenant Gavin McLeod stopped in his tracks. “I tried to warn you then. The… others were there and acted on their own.”

“They killed the Waziri warriors. The dead will be avenged. I know the Waziri warrior’s code. Nothing will be left undone till their vengeance is done.” Mindy looked away. “They will also kill me.”

“Which is why we need to protect you.” Lieutenant Gavin McLeod stood there in front of the lady. “They are … not locals. They are foreigners who are affiliated with ……"

“Does it matter, Gavin?” Mindy was upset. “My …… The Waziri will not let me go. I am dead if they ever catch hold of me.”

“Mindy, do not fear them. I am here.” Lieutenant Gavin McLeod reached out with his arms, but she rejected them.

“Go away, Gavin.”

“Mindy, do tell, where are the reports? You said half was given to Mycroft, and the other half?” Lieutenant Gavin McLeod moved the subject matter.

"I…… Why are you concerned about that? Are you…?" Mindy saw the man she loathed then.

“He is involved. Where are the other papers, Mindy?” Ian Masterson asked.

“I had it sent to my father. He was to safekeep it for me.” Mindy looked at the other man. “Go and ask him.”

“Do not be defiant, girl.” Ian Masterson took on the harsh tone. “I know your father too.”

“Ian, let her be.” Lieutenant Gavin McLeod stepped in.

“Stand down, soldier. I am handling matters here.” Ian Masterson reprimanded the other. “Mindy, be reasonable. I can deal with your father too, if need be.”

“As you are not working with me, I am forced to take action.” Ian Masterson pulled the revolver from his waist belt. Lieutenant Gavin McLeod stepped up to protect the lady, but Ian Masterson had his aim at the lieutenant. He shot the officer in the chest.

“You are the damned hero here, Gavin. I was not aiming at her but you. You have ceased to be a part of me.” Ian Masterson looked at the fallen figure. “I do not tolerate failures.”

“Ian, he is your son!” Mindy cried out.

“Step-son, girl. He did not get me inside him.” Ian Masterson looked at the lady. “Now, let me plan your trip home.”

Meanwhile, Sherlock was holding onto the violin without strumming the strings, seated in the armchair by the window. He was in deep thought while Doctor Watson was reading the sports section of the news and having his breakfast.

“Newton Heath playing the Rovers tomorrow. It will be a washout there.” Doctor Watson beamed with joy while reading. “I saw them at the Three Crowns when they have their change of kits. (Newton Heath LYR F.C. is the original name for Manchester United).

“Not a fan of football, huh?” Doctor Watson looked from his papers. “I should have known. You were a rower for the boats. Legs spread out and they will hobble the ball past you anytime.”

“I was a rower but not fancy enough to have two dozen men running around on the field looking to kick a ball.” Sherlock did not mince his words.

“I am wondering why the lady handed the… partial reports to Mycroft. Was it to tell us some clues?” Sherlock looked out of the window.

“Are you on your medicine? You are exposing yourself at the window. The last time, we had an arrow at you, and previously the gunshot then.” Doctor Watson looked at the other.

“Elementary, Watson. I am getting my share of sunshine, despite the heavy smog out there. One day soon, we will be relieved by the shade of it, but for now, let me get my body to regain its shine.”

“Try a cold turkey treatment, and you will look better.” Doctor Watson looked back at his papers.

“I got it!” Sherlock sat up. “The lady was telling us that the mining reports are the link and giving us partial ones, holding up one option; the affected party will look for it. They may have Ms. Kewala in custody, but without the reports, she was of no use.”

“The question is who has the other half?” Sherlock looked at the doctor. “It is the other team, but which one? Once both teams get together, we will have the full reports.”

“Tell me, Watson. Who will benefit from the reports?” Sherlock raised the query. “The Demons? Or the Treasury? It is grand wealth there.”

“Or the land owners of the land?” Doctor Watson spoke up. “The games are played at the North Road stands because the Newton Heath LYR F.C. holds the rights to it. It can seat twelve thousand. It is an ideal place for the supporters to congregate…"

“Congo, it is," Sherlock cried out. “The other report could be there.”

“You are right on there.” Nayland Smith stepped in to the unit. He was with Mycroft.

“Blimey me. What, or rather, why are you here so early?” Doctor Watson looked up from the papers at the two arrivals. "And… godly hours it seems.”

“I met Mycroft downstairs, and we step up together.” Nayland Smith sat himself at the breakfast spread. “I am famished.”

While Nayland took delight in the spread, Mycroft took the next seat there.

“I met Nayland and hold some news for all.” Mycroft woofed down the bacon there on the plate.

“Let me speak first.” Nayland cut in. “I was at Millwall Dock. I was looking for some chaps who deal with dynamites. I saw one of them, Charlie…"

“Charles Darwin, or nicknamed Charlie Boom," Sherlock cut in. “He is a dealer in explosives. Knew of him from my reports.”

“Yes, Charlie Darwin. He hung out at the docks where the explosives are delivered." Nayland continued. “I had him cornered, and he confessed to the explosives. He sold it to one named Kataka Sukimora, but the description fitted more to Ito Matsuke.”

“I went there later and found that Ian Masterson is involved… deeply, and all this leads to Africa. More specific is the Congo.” What Nayland Smith did not relate was the actual events there.

“Welcome, Nayland.” The old man stepped from the dark to greet the man he once detested but soon accepted as his daughter’s lover. Nayland had sneaked into the warehouse, but he was seen. The old man then appeared to meet him.

“Fu Manchu, Emperor, we meet once more.” Nayland approached the old man. Two burly men appeared from behind the old man.

“Before you, I am no emperor. I am just the old man who wants to talk.” Fu Manchu smiled, his thin mustache spread out like young sprouts.

“And no need to be rash, Nayland. We are… related. There is more honor than just being friends.” The old man smiled and gestured to his guards to step aside.

“Fu Manchu, leave Lo Shue out. She is…"

“I meant no harm to my… errant daughter. Or to her lover. I was told you were coming to the docks.” Fu Manchu shifted to the subject matter.

“Your informants are better than I thought.” Nayland stopped in his tracks.

“Keep your enemies at bay, but never lose sight of their movements.” Fu Manchu approached Nayland Smith. “And the man you are looking for is with me. His name is Charles Darwin, or Charlie Boom to his associates. He had confessed to the explosives sold to one named Sukimora, but the description fit another named Ito Matsuke. We all look alike to them, but we know our own better.”

“I am impressed. In China, I would have smiled, but here in London, it is an amazement that you hold a network equally as good.” Nayland Smith praised the old man.

“I guess old habits stay with me.” The old man smiled. “One day, your child will inherit it. Anyway, the man who bought the explosives was familiar with it and had used it on several occasions.”

“How deep do you know of the Yomi Demons?” Nayland Smith shifted the focus.

“Deeper than you may think. They are here, and……. We had some dealings with them, but we shared a common dislike for each other. Nevertheless, we are mutual in our trades.” The old man replied. “Since you asked me about them. They conflict with Sherlock Holmes.”

Nayland Smith remained silent.

“You knew that. There are words that they are involved with some mining rights in the Congo, but I am not keen. They have an adviser that you may know: Ian Masterson. He is the viper in the pit here.”

“I know Ian Masterson.” Nayland Smith looked at the older man.

“A shrewd operative who played with many sides, yet he swore allegiance to none. However, he is their adviser. And… loosely allied with one named Moriarty.”

“The circle is getting smaller. I have now heard of Ian Masterson, yourself, and …. Moriarty.” Nayland Smith stepped to the right and watched the stacks of containers there, trying to get a glimpse of the ones watching him.

“I am not involved, Nayland Smith. That is why I meet you here.” Fu Manchu smiled once more. “The events here are not of my doing. I do not want to offend my family ties. Follow Ian Masterson; take the Trojan from Liverpool tomorrow. I have booked your passage there. It will get you to Africa. You may get to solve the case.”

“Madness!” Nayland looked at the older man.

“Madness prevails in us." The elder man smiled. “You included it because you took the… desire to wed my daughter. Wonderful, how love does us madness?” 

“Are you…" Nayland saw the older man had turned his back and was walking away. It meant the audience granted was over. He will not know if the older man accepted his relationship with the daughter.

“Nayland, are you sober?” Mycroft shook the man out of his thoughts.

“Yes, I am. I met Fu Manchu.” Nayland lowered his head.

“Yes, we do get that feeling when we meet the in-laws.” Mycroft smiled. “However, I am not privileged to that.”

“The old man is right. Africa is the spot to resolve the case.” Sherlock beamed out.

“I got the booking on the Trojan tomorrow in late afternoon.” Nayland said.

 

Heroes Return VI: Book One London Chapter 27

 27.

 

Ito Matsuke looked out of the window from the third level of the building at Mayfair, London. It was a new unit, unfurnished, but the view was scenic on Hanover Square in the distance.

“Splendid view, is it not?” Ito Matsuke heard the voice and turned to look. He was facing Ian Masterson, well-dressed in the expensive three-piece suit, who sported a bowler.

“It is.” Ito Matsuke bowed to the adviser of the Yomi Demons. “I am ever honored to meet you.”

“The honor is mine too, Ito. However, you acted without consulting me.” Ian Masterson walked to the window. “Why kill Leeson? He was my friend.”

“Leeson was to tell on us. I have ears at the office there. He met Sensei and the Holmes brother.” Ito Matsuke acknowledged his action.

“Sherlock Holmes was set by you. You told me so.”

“Yes, I did. You told me to get the man involved to create a trail towards the other crime lord, Professor Moriarty.”

“I did, but it was for another contingency or when I had returned to London.” Ian Masterson did not hide his anger. “You had the three others killed earlier ……”

"And you reprimanded me then. I had Brian Leeson killed because he was avoiding us to give the papers. I had told him; I will act on him or the lady.”

“Mindy Kewala is the key player here. If she is harmed or missing, we cannot get the approval for the mining rights there. She was to act for us there.” Ian Masterson fumed at the error made.

You killed Leeson and forced her to run. She went to the one other person who would help her: the Greystokes. You pursued them and killed the Waziri’s warriors. That was another bad mistake.”

“I am not afraid of the warriors. I am…" Ito Matsuke said. "覆水盆に返らず (fukusui bon ni kaerazu)" (split water would not go back to its tray).

“A fool, Ito Matsuke. Baka (バカ). You exposed us further.” Ian Masterson looked at the other.

“I am no fool, adviser. Our plan was to remain hidden till I return. I was on the steamer to return, but the Oni Society got news of my betrayal. I was set upon, but I escaped. I had prepared for that. I set the explosives off when I jumped overboard. I had a trawler trailing the steamer. All was planned, and my death was reported. I escaped to Singapore, and from there to Betawi, and then hopping the sea lines from India, I made it back to Liverpool.”

“I had help, Ito Matsuke. The man was the emperor of China, the emperor of the crime world. Fu Manchu was engaged to bring me back. He did it for a share of the wealth, but then he heard of the killings. He decided to stay away after that.”

“The emperor wants a piece of the wealthy and a retreat from the plan? Has he turned to cowardice?” Ito Matsuke snapped out.

“Please hold some respect for the old man. He was fighting when you were wetting your pants then.” Ian Masterson corrected the other. “I know the old man well.”

"Well, for one, he did not want to fight his son-in-law. Nayland Smith is a formidable warrior, and the old man likes him. He knew Nayland was here in London now. Two, he had a change of his mind. The Congo was too far for him when he discovered that Manchuria was a lower-hanging fruit. "Ian Masterson explained. “Three, Fu Manchu is a careful man. He holds a niche in London and Liverpool. He does not want to antagonize the others here. There are other crime clans: the Irish, the Manchester Scuttlers, the Forty Elephants, and … the Peaky Blinders. He also knew of the Yomi Demons.”

“Four, when M was invoked to the battle, the old man stepped back. He told me that he was not for the plan. He is wary of Moriarty and holds mutual respect. He did not survive without building undisclosed alliances.”

“Added to all the above, number five: Sensei Ogata is here. He will leave no stone unturned. He is onto you from what I learned, and maybe onto me too. He may know that I am not dead and will finish the task soon.”

“Why do we have to fear Moriarty?” Ito Matsuke asked.

“Professor James Moriarty is like a Mamushi (Japanese pit viper: small, brown, and highly venomous with a distinct triangular head.) He will strike when you least expected it.”

“He knew you?”

“No, we … were associates mentioned in the network. The professor knew I ran a smuggling trade from China with the emperor, and I... rather, my network paid him a share to keep away. I got him into the mining in the Congo to entice his silence.” Ian Masterson explained.

“You involved him too?” Ito Matsuke was upset. “Too many people involved.”

“It takes a village to raise a kid. It also takes a wider network to keep the operation running. It was through the network. The professor told them that was his retirement game. He will hand over to the colonel and retire to Glasgow or Wales. I do mutually agree with him, for I need his silence here.”

“Too many……” “I am aware. Once we are done, they will be removed in stages. As I had dealt with vipers, you catch hold of their neck and cut off the head.” Ian Masterson looked at the Japanese. “The pit will then be empty.”

“Can you be trusted, adviser?” Ito Matsuke stepped back from the other.

“Trust is mutual till we have no need for it.” Ian Masterson said. “人を信じよ、しかし、その百倍も自らを信じよ (Hito wo shinjiyo, shikashi, sono hyakubai mo mizukara wo shinjiyo)" (Trust others, but trust yourself a hundred times more.)

“I trust myself more.” Ian Masterson looked to Ito. “Your presence is under threat from the Sensei. You are considered a weakling by the Yomi Demons. Stay with me, and you do not have to be a ronin like your sensei.”

“I will kill you.” Ito Matsuke took on the striking stance and faced the man.

“Brashness is inside of you, Ito Matsuke. As you did all the acts that brought attention to the Yomi Demons. Kill me and you lose the only person who can help you redeem yourself.” Ian Masterson continued his look at Hanover Square. “If you are still with me, we can resolve the issues here.”

“First, find your Sensei. Kill him. Get more warriors involved.” Ian Masterson continued. “Two, once the Sensei is done, collect your warriors. We are to go to the Congo to secure the treasury.”

“Yourself?” Ito Matsuke asked.

“I will remove Sherlock Holmes and one other named Nayland Smith. I will make it look as if I am assisting Professor Moriarty and the emperor.” Ian Masterson spoke without averting his eyes. “They are his nemesis.”

Ian Masterson was playing for time. He lost the papers, and with Mindy Kewala in his custody, he needed time to clear the trail. Once he sets the other onto his sensei, he may be free of that man, or Ito Matsuke will die in the works.

The important part was to get the papers back, and by now, he presumed they were with Sherlock Holmes. He could bargain with Sherlock Holmes for Mindy’s life, but he also needed Mindy there in the Congo. He must plan his move well. Sherlock Holmes is not a rook in the Congo but another pawn. He looked at the other man standing there.

“Ito Matsuke, you are now a sacrificial pawn in the game.” Ian Masterson muttered in his mind.

Nayland was not without his resources. That evening, soon after leaving Mycroft at the tavern, he searches his sources for news on Ian Masterson. He turned up with nothing. He then moved his focus on the explosives. Mitch told him that the explosives were brought in by some guys he knew when he was the sapper with the Royal Engineers.

“The chums, they are the wild ones among us. They brought in the explosives for the tasks; we avoid the earnings.” Mitch Kilney, on his retirement, moved with the criminals to offer his expertise.

“These were the loads they took from the armory some weeks ago. It is good stuff.” Mitch was offered the lager in the dimly lit underground pub, dark and moody, lit by gaslight or paraffin lamps, with cozy, wooden interiors and "snob screens" that partitioned rooms.

“Tell me, Mitch. Why are they? The chums who do this?” Nayland shoved the five-pound note into the other man’s overall pocket.

“Dynamiters, but of late, I heard some of them called themselves the demons." Mitch looked to his left side and then back to his drink. “They are the sort of chums I do not associate with. Lost a few of my chums who went the wrong way with the dynamite sticks.”

“Where, Mitch?”

“Try the Millwall Dock. Ask for Charlie.” Mitch mumbled.  

Pardon me , I was called away

 Pardon me, I was called away to out of town for a week. I m back now. 

The epic tale of Odysseus is capping at the last stage of the odyssesy, and will be done ...... bf the month end. Long write at now 127K words over 76 chapters...... You could say Odysseus is long winded in his quest.

I will be posting in the new chapters of P&P Sherlock now.