The Redacted Sherlock Holmes - Volume 4 Page 11

  “I am sure,” opined Holmes, “that the British and Americans will stand four-square with you...”

  At that moment, an attendant burst through the door. “Monsieur le President! Monsieur le President!” he cried and put what I recognised as a British diplomatic cable in front of him. The president looked at it, clutched his heart, put on the helmet, and collapsed head first onto the leather-covered mahogany of his desk, pausing only to say: “So this is what my predecessor must have meant.”

  While the flunky attended to the president, Holmes read to me from the cable about a new memorandum of understanding that had just been signed between the United States and Russia.

  In an accompanying press release, the American president was quoted as saying, “The Russian chief minister and I see that we have overlapping interests in securing our borders and making sure that our nearer neighbours treat us with the respect we deserve as great powers. In this great new world of opportunity, the colours will be those of our flags - red, white and blue.”

  The Russian chief minister had also issued a press release:

  “By the power vested in me by the Czar,” it ran, “alas so unfortunately still held up in Yekaterinburg, I would like to express his delight at the new understanding between our two great nations. We have a new combined level of authority across all territories stretching from the Baltic in the west, over Mother Russia, Siberia, Alaska and the main body of United States. We will use this for the benefit of the solid majority of the citizens of our nations both inside and outside our borders whose interests have been neglected in recent times. It is appropriate that our flags are in the same red, white and blue combination of colours.”

  The president had in the meantime recovered some of his poise and Holmes asked him:

  “What is to be the response of the remaining Entente powers to developments?”

  “We are already doing our best to recall our nationals from overseas in case they are needed to defend our territories. We are considering putting up border posts to prevent the free movement of people both as a barrier against potential Russian troop movements to the west and to prevent flight among our citizens.” The French president paused, lifted the helmet that was still on his head, and mopped his brow. “What is your government’s response going to be to these events?”

  There was a silence. For the only time in our acquaintance, I realised that Holmes was involuntarily at a loss for words. Eventually he said, “Monsieur President, the news you bear is of such shocking gravity I shall have to take soundings with London before I can respond.”

  Before we could depart however, another attendant arrived with a second cable. The president passed his eyes fleetingly over it before passing it to Holmes to read, and then passed out completely.

  “‘Troopships’,” read Holmes from the telegram, “‘previously reported as sighted in the Baltic established to belong to the United States. American sources say that the troops on these will be used as peacekeepers once the Russians have achieved their initial objectives.’”

  There was nothing we could do for the French president so we left him in the hands of an attendant and retired to the British Embassy to await developments.

  Not many days passed before the Russian goodwill mission had achieved the objectives stated by the chief minister. The troops had secured bases in the interior of the various countries and on the perimeter of each major town. It was not long after that that American troops landed to act as peacekeepers. In the meantime, among the Entente powers, many of the measures that the French president had set out were put into effect. There were large movements of populations back to their places of origin - one wag quipped it was the largest return of people to their place of birth since Christmas in the year zero - and international border security was significantly increased.

  But inevitably tensions arose between the populations in the Baltic States, the Russian soldiers in their new quarters, and the American peacekeeper troops. This led to some minor skirmishes and in one such incident, a shell struck the American headquarters in one of the state capitals.

  Initially both the Russians and the Americans blamed local rebels until a report appeared in the British press to say that the Americans had established that the shell had been fired from a Russian position. But the detail that really attracted the world’s attention was that the shell fired was of British manufacture. The Russians immediately accused the rebels of a false-flag operation, contrary to all the evidence, while the Americans expressed their concern that British weapons were being supplied to the Russians or to the local inhabitants.

  Shortly after this, Mr Reynard held a press conference on his achievements to date, as the press was concerned that he had not yet struck any trade deals at all. But Mr Reynard emphasised his eagerness to do deals: “I and my advisers have held extensive and productive meetings with government leaders in two continents,” he said, “and we will be travelling to the others with the same objective.”

  This took only a few seconds to say and gave the press the chance to pose questions to Mr Reynard, untrammelled by the constraints of time normal at a press conference. Inevitably the use of British weapons against American forces was raised.

  The minister replied: “There are those who say that leaders of British businesses are more interested in recreational pursuits than in growing their profits. But, if anyone was under any misapprehension about Britain’s readiness to do business with anyone in the world, this event should have removed it. And my charitable foundations will be able to do more good works as a result of donations from British weapons manufacturers, which have now gained such a firm foothold in previously unprospected markets.”

  As Mr Reynard left the stage after making these remarks, he was summarily arrested. The next day we read that the Americans had demanded Mr Reynard’s extradition on charges of illegally supplying weapons to enemy combatants.

  The American President said, “I will act with extreme force against those who threaten American interests. Even my pathetic predecessor insisted that extradition laws between the United States and England mean that we can get hold of anyone we want whenever we want to. And I see my presidency as a theatre for shock and awe. So, I demand the extradition of Mr Reynard and of anyone else who has been supplying weapons to our enemies. No one should think they can play games with my country and get away with it.”

  Holmes and I, still in Paris, had not received any instructions as to what to do next. In the end, Holmes said, “Come, Watson, I am sure we are best able to serve king and country in London.”

  We had just descended the Embassy steps to the street when a four-wheeler drew up and the familiar and unruffled figure of Mycroft got out.

  “Sherlock,” said Mycroft, “I felt it would occasion less interest if I came here rather than asking you to come back to London. You need to be on the next ship to Washington to prevail upon our American cousins not to pursue the extradition of Mr Reynard.”

  “What would you be prepared to offer them?” asked Holmes.

  “You are one of the great minds of the age, Sherlock, or so your soi-disant chronicler regularly informs us,” replied Mycroft airily. “I will leave it for you to decide.”

  Just over a week later, we were back in the White House.

  “Your country’s supply of weapons to our enemies is an outrage, Mr Holmes!” fulminated the president. “Reynard has claimed to be the main mover behind it and he is in your government. We insist on his extradition at once.”

  “We are a sovereign nation and will not hand over one of our subjects to a foreign power without a due process of law,” replied Holmes.

  “We have an extradition treaty which says we can do what we like. All we are pokering about is the timetable. And we have the means to enforce what we want. We have enough of your British pounds in our treasury to make your currency crash and burn on t
he foreign exchange markets. In fact, we see no great difference between holding your Great British pounds or those of one of the other great nations who give their currency that name. And we have an army in Europe under attack from British-made weapons. Maybe some of my troops could use a bit of overtime. Now what do you say? Should we ask for a couple of bases on your coastline as well?”

  I have always admired Holmes’s calm under pressure and looked at him to see how he might react. I was struck by the fact that before responding, he again sat breathing deeply. His eyes were showing the sparkle they only displayed when he was on a hot scent.

  “I was wondering, Mr President,” he said, at length, “if your army is entirely suited to the peacekeeping role it is engaged in? It has no history of being placed in that position - there were no peacekeepers in your recent Civil War - whereas our country has extensive experience in India of maintaining the peace using small numbers of skilfully deployed troops. The whole of India is at peace and yet the number of British troops there is well under one hundred thousand.”

  I could see that this offer had attracted the president’s ear.

  “I could use my troops elsewhere,” he mused, “and it would give me a certain satisfaction if it were your troops who were under fire from people you’d supplied with weapons.”

  Almost immediately, cables were exchanged with Moscow. The Russian chief minister accepted the offer. All sides were sworn to secrecy to allow for co-ordination of troop movements. Holmes and I headed for our ship across the Atlantic, but to my surprise, Holmes determined to disembark at an intermediate stop at Cherbourg and headed to Paris.

  We were soon once more before the French president, although I had no idea why we needed to see him.

  “I was wondering,” said Holmes to the president, “if the presence of British troops in eastern Europe might persuade Entente powers to make the Entente a more attractive place for my fellow countrymen?”

  “To have British troops at the eastern bulwark of the Entente would justify your country having special status in our alliance - enhanced voting rights, additional concessions on movement of people, and increased powers of veto,” replied the president.

  “I am sure that such an offer could be made to seem appealing to the British electorate,” replied my friend. “I would, however, ask you not to disclose any of this proposal to anyone until I have discussed it in London.”

  We crossed the English Channel and the next morning saw us arrive at Dover. Holmes picked up newspapers at the port and we opened them to find that news of the deployment of British troops had been leaked by the Americans. The president was quoted as saying, “I’m going to say this straight. England and the rest of the world are only as sovereign as they are allowed to be in the new world where the United States is on its way to making itself great again. And those British troops better get here soon. Or we’ll get Reynard without bothering with the British legal system. Rendition of suspects may become an everyday event rather than anything extraordinary.”

  Later that morning we were back at the Diogenes Club with Mycroft and the prime minister.

  “You have really done very well, Sherlock,” said my friend’s brother. “I think now that our American friends have put their own slant on your deal, we can invite the French president to provide his.”

  That evening, The Standard carried a story of a new offer to be made by the Entente powers in a bid to persuade Great Britain to remain a member.

  The French president was quoted as saying, “This is a deal in the red, white and blue of our flags, which will ensure that our British friends can name their terms for their country remaining a member of the Entente family of nations.”

  That evening Mycroft took the very unusual step of paying us a late visit at our Baker Street quarters. “I really think,” he said, “that the electorate is ready to be offered another plebiscite. It shall be asked to make a choice between the British government seeking to pursue one of four options - a strategic alliance with Russia, a strategic alliance with the United States, splendid isolation in a world more dominated than ever by the military and economic might of the Americans and the aggressive intent of the Russians, or the current Entente membership on the new terms proposed.”

  “And what is the view of the Prime Minister on all this?”

  “Well, the PM’s only comment so far has been an expression of disappointment that the venal Mr Reynard is not to be deported to face a long sentence in an American penitentiary.”

  At the time of writing, campaigning for the next plebiscite is just getting underway.

  It is noticeable that for this plebiscite, the anti-Entente forces will be split three ways.

  Mainly from the governing party there are those advocating closer links with the United States. From the main opposition party, many are in favour of closer links with Russia. And, scattered across the political spectrum, there are those calling for splendid isolation. But the option articulated by the more established members of the main parties is the adoption of the new proposals for continued membership of the Entente. Such continued membership on these improved terms is seen as the likeliest outcome - although that was also my prediction of the likeliest outcome at the last plebiscite.

  The Hounding of Peers Baskerville

  I. Mr Peers Baskerville

  After my second marriage in 1907, I continued to see Holmes and help him on his cases although relations between us inevitably became more distant, especially once I had the responsibilities of fatherhood. In late 1909, my wife’s mother fell ill and it was easier for my wife to take the children with her when she went to nurse her so I was rendered, briefly, a straw widower.

  It so happened during that time that Holmes involved me in two cases which he solved in quick succession and he marked this achievement by asking me to join him at Covent Garden for a Saturday matinee performance of Vincenzo Bellini’s I Puritani which was being put on as part of a festival of the Italian operatic master’s music.

  I had no other engagement after the performance and we returned to Baker Street, walking up from the Metropolitan Line station to the quarters I had previously shared with him. As we arrived outside, Holmes stopped to look at some markings left by a carriage outside 221B.

  “There’s money in our next client if nothing else!” he said as he turned to unlock the front door.

  “What makes you say that?” I asked, as we stood on the doorstep.

  “Did you fail to notice that those markings were of a very lightly laden four-wheeler. The coach had obviously waited there for a short time while its occupant was trying to see me. He or she had sat on the left facing forward before descending - that was clear by the slightly deeper indentation of the mark left by the rear on-side wheel. Anyone who chooses to travel around London unaccompanied in a four-wheeler has no need to practise economy.”

  As Holmes opened the front-door, the buttons greeted us.

  “There was a young man here, Sir. A Mr Peers Baskerville. He left when he heard you weren’t here, but he said he would be back this evening.”

  Baskerville! I could not hear the name without shuddering. My reader will recall the events of 1889 where Holmes’s client, Sir Henry Baskerville, was chased almost to his death by the diabolical hound which had been set on him by his neighbour, the botanist Jack Stapleton. The South-American-born Stapleton was the next in line to the Baskerville lands and fortune. He had bought the hound and primed it to chase Sir Henry, having previously used it to kill Sir Charles Baskerville, Sir Henry’s uncle, and predecessor as the owner of the Baskerville estate. As Holmes shot the monstrous beast, Stapleton attempted to flee across Grimpen Mire, a moorland mire notorious for sucking to their deaths any man or beast that ventured off the narrow path that led across it. No trace of him was ever found.

  Some readers may also recall that I did not publish my version of the event
s of that ghastly night until 1901. I did not say so at the time, but this delay was due to the state of health, both physical and mental, of Sir Henry arising from the shock of his encounter with the hound.

  Sir Henry, on the advice of Dr Mortimer, who had been the person who had originally brought the case to our attention, undertook a world cruise to try and restore the former’s health. As his personal physician, Dr Mortimer accompanied Sir Henry on the cruise, but it had mixed results. On the voyage, Sir Henry became acquainted with the glamourous Letizia de Teguise, a Spanish countess of the town of that name, and they married on the Azores. But in spite of this happy event, the cure that Dr Mortimer had recommended achieved no more than partial success as Sir Henry’s nerves were still very shaken from his ordeal, even after his return to Dartmoor.

  Within a year of Sir Henry’s return, his new wife died soon after giving birth to a son, Peers, and Sir Henry’s moods then became darker still. Increasingly, he blamed Holmes for the loss of his mental well-being. He accused Holmes of what he called grandstanding. He felt that in order to make a name for himself, Holmes had stage-managed the dramatic chase through the fog across Dartmoor. The baronet felt that the murder attempt on him could have been just as easily frustrated by ambushing the murderous Stapleton at the door of the outhouse where the seemingly mild-mannered naturalist had kept his ferocious beast.

  I had correspondence with Sir Henry in 1897 when he wrote:

  I sit here at my fireplace with my hands still trembling. The rain beats against the window, the wind howls among the chimney pots, but all I can hear is the mad baying of that hound which never leaves me. I was unwarned and unarmed that night eight years ago. Had I had the least suspicion that that brute had been on the moor, I would at least have taken a pistol with me to have a fighting chance of defending myself. And now you want to make a book out of your friend’s use of me as bait. I don’t feel a grudge against you, Dr Watson, as you only follow instructions from Mr Holmes, as I, poor fool, did that night, but you can imagine that I am not all that warm about your friend, Mr Holmes.