Sherlock Holmes and the Knave of Hearts (21 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Poetic Justice

O
utside, the sounds of combat were now closer and more violent. Gunfire filled the night. Hand-to-hand combat began. Steel clashed against steel. Cries of pain came from the dying and the wounded. Corpses littered the lawn. Their comrades leaped over them and continued their attack.

The soldiers’ relentless firing took heavy toll of Absalon’s men. Their bodies hung limply from windows or were slumped down in doorways, blood puddling around them.

‘Pour la France! Pour la France!’

Bullets shattered the study window. Flying glass rained onto the hardwood floor. Alarmed, everyone shrank back.

‘Give up!’ Holmes told Absalon. ‘While there’s still time.’

‘Never!’ grated Absalon.

Suddenly they heard wood splintering as the front door was breached. There followed a confusion of gunshots, then silence and then calls from the officers, demanding surrender. A few scattered shots followed, but after that all shooting ceased.

Watson shouted: ‘
Gillet! In here!
’

Moments later the double doors burst open and Lacombe stumbled in, propelled by Henri Gillet. A short, stocky man of forty with curly grey hair and merry blue eyes, Gillet gave Lacombe another push and then he looked about him. His gaze settled first on Watson, then on the body of Thayer, then Holmes, and finally Alexandre Absalon.

‘
Bonsoir
, M’sieur Holmes,’ he said, bowing. ‘My wife and I are still awaiting the pleasure of your company.’

Animated voices were heard outside the study. Moments later Michel, Mathes and two officers hurried in.

‘Search the house!’ Gillet ordered.

‘No!’ snapped Holmes. ‘Wait!’

‘What is it?’ Gillet demanded.

Holmes turned to Lacombe. ‘Did you light the fuses?’

Lacombe nodded and stared fearfully at Absalon.

‘The cellar is full of explosives,’ Watson told Gillet. ‘We only have a few minutes to evacuate the building.’

Gillet confronted Lacombe. ‘Is there still time to put these fuses out?’

‘P-Perhaps – if we do it now,’ said Lacombe. ‘But it will be very close,
m’sieur.
’

Holmes said: ‘Then let them burn.’ To Gillet he added: ‘Get your men and your prisoners to safety.’

‘What about you?’

‘M’sieur Absalon and I are going to stay here.’

Absalon looked alarmed. ‘
What?
’

‘I have reason to believe that whatever is in that safe is vital to the continuation of the Knaves,’ Holmes said. He paused and looked at Watson before continuing: ‘A fine, brave lady of our acquaintance tried to tell us as much before this man Thayer killed her earlier this evening. Now, we do not have the time to move the safe, nor can we spare the time to work out the combination by ourselves. For that we need
you
, Absalon. And if you refuse to cooperate, then the explosion will destroy you as certainly as it will destroy the evidence you hope to keep from us.’

‘You’re mad!’ Absalon said.

‘Let us see, shall we?’ said Holmes. ‘The rest of you – leave now, while you have the chance.’

Gillet, realizing Holmes was right, pushed Lacombe towards the door. ‘
Allez! Allez!
Everyone out of here – now!’

Holmes waited for Gillet and his men to leave and then said to Watson: ‘You too, old friend.’

Watson shook his head and retrieved his service revolver from Thayer. ‘If it’s all the same to you,’ he said, ‘I’ll stay.’

‘So will I,’ added Michel.

‘You’re all insane,’ said Inspector Mathes. ‘But God help me, I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t stay and see it through with you.’

Absalon looked at them. ‘You fools! I have spent the last ten years serving the Knaves, watching the organization grow and spread and slowly but surely gain influence and power! Do you really think I would betray all that just to save my own skin?’

Holmes sat on the edge of the desk and folded his arms. ‘We shall see,’ he said calmly.

Watson took out his pocket watch and checked the time. ‘I estimate that we have perhaps eight minutes left.’

Absalon sneered. ‘Eight minutes, eight seconds – I will never betray my cause.’

Michel flopped into a chair. ‘Then it will be my pleasure to watch you die,
m’sieur
. You, who caused my parents so much ugliness.’

Mathes nodded. ‘I agree. To think that your organization has infiltrated and corrupted the force I hold so dear …
oui
, it will be a pleasure to watch as you begin your journey to hell.’

‘Seven minutes,’ said Watson.

‘You’re bluffing,’ Absalon scoffed. ‘You’re all bluffing.’

‘Do we look as if we are bluffing?’ asked Holmes.

‘Six minutes.’

Watson kept his voice as level as he could, but he began to wonder if Holmes had underestimated his opponent. For a moment it was on the tip of his tongue to say that perhaps they should cut their losses and leave while they still could. After all, where was the sense in four decent men losing their lives for the sake of an evil fifth?

But then he remembered Lydie’s last words:
The safe
…
Absalon clearly kept something there that could help them bring about the destruction of the Knaves. So, calmly, he announced: ‘Five minutes.’

‘All right!’ said Absalon. ‘You win! I will give you the
combination
– but in return I demand immunity from prosecution.’

‘Agreed,’ Holmes said immediately.

‘
M’sieur
,’ Mathes protested, ‘it is not for you to accede to such a demand. You have no authority—’

‘You have my word upon it,’ Holmes told Absalon.

‘Four minutes,’ said Watson. ‘Hurry, man!’

Absalon went to the safe, knelt and began turning the dial first one way, then the other. Watson shifted his gaze from Absalon’s busy fingers to the second hand as it swept around the face of his pocket watch. It was imagination, surely, but it seemed to him that the seconds were ticking away alarmingly fast.

Absalon twisted the brass handle and opened the safe’s two doors. ‘There,’ he said dejectedly.

Holmes said, ‘Here, take these,’ and began to remove stacks of documents and folders. He gave the first pile to Michel, the second to Mathes, a third to Watson. Then keeping the last batch himself, he, Watson and the others raced from the room.

As they ran, Watson thought:
We had only four minutes. Surely they must be up now?

The lobby was littered with broken glass and dead bodies. Footsteps clattering over the flagstones, they reached the front door. Michel jerked it open. As he did he dropped several folders and wasted valuable seconds as he fumbled around trying to scoop them up. Holmes stopped to help, ‘Quickly, my friend! Quickly, now!’ and then the two of them rushed after the others.

Finally, they were all outside. They paused by the front steps, gulping in the cold night air as they looked around for Gillet, the soldiers and their prisoners.

‘
Over here!
’ Gillet waved to them from behind a low stone wall bordering the grass in front of the tree-line.

The five men sprinted for the wall, Holmes bringing up the rear. From here he was able to keep an eye on Absalon and at the same time be sure that Watson kept up with them on his game leg.

The group were about halfway to the wall when, behind them, the chateau exploded.

Momentarily, the night became bright as day. Still they ran, their fleeing shadows stretching long and misshapen before them. Burning debris flew everywhere. There followed a
racketing
blast of sound that sent a shockwave through them. An unstoppable wave of heat punched them in the back and sent them sprawling. Everyone lay where they fell, curling
themselves
into protective balls, arms covering their heads, waiting to see if there would be any more explosions.

They did not have to wait long.

Seconds later there was another deafening explosion, then another and another, each lighting up the darkness until – suddenly there was a roaring, ripping, tearing, whistling sound of ancient stone being torn apart and flung in every direction.

‘
Run!
’ yelled Holmes, scrambling to his feet. ‘Save
yourselves
!’

Everyone jumped up and, still clutching the files and
documents
they had risked their lives for, raced towards the wall.

Behind them huge concrete blocks came smashing back to earth, along with splintered, burning rafters and the
razor-edged
remnants of roof tiles, flagstones and glass. They slammed into the ground, bouncing and rolling after Holmes, Watson and the others like pursing demons.

Incredibly, all five men managed to stay a step ahead of the raining debris.

Behind the wall Gillet and the troops yelled encouragement as they waved them on.

It was close, but they made it. As one they scrambled over the wall and ducked down behind its protection. Moments
later tumbling, flaming debris slammed against the wall. It shuddered and in some places cracked, but remained standing.

It was some time before Holmes and Watson dared put their heads above the parapet. All that remained of the chateau was a jumbled, ragged, blazing pile of rubble.

Once everyone’s safety was assured, Gillet ordered his
officers
to have the troops put out the fire. He then joined Holmes, Watson and the others, who stood nearby. Though unharmed, all were covered in dirt and trying to cough the smoke and dust from their lungs.

‘I hope the risk was worth it,’ said Gillet.

‘I have no doubt that it was,’ said Holmes. He indicated the evidence piled on the ground. ‘Just as I am equally certain that the contents of these files will prove to be most …
illuminating
.’

‘And remember,’ said Absalon, his once-immaculate clothes now torn and filthy, ‘I have been promised immunity from prosecution for cooperating.’

‘Upon whose authority?’ demanded Gillet.

‘Upon mine,’ Holmes said. ‘I felt it was a promise you would gladly honour, Henri … given that I could make no such
assurance
on behalf of the Knaves.’

Absalon paled. ‘W-what was that?’

Holmes eyed him bleakly. ‘The evidence you have supplied, M’sieur Absalon, will doubtless enable the French government to bring about the demise of the group you held so dear. But that will take time. And until the last of the Knaves has been rooted out, I am confident that you will be high upon their list for retribution.’

Absalon sagged. ‘No!’ he whispered. ‘No, you can’t do that!’

‘It is out of my hands,’ Holmes said with great satisfaction. ‘Once it becomes clear how you betrayed them, your compatriots will be out for blood. No matter where you go or where you hide or how completely you try to disguise your true identity, they will find you and make sure you pay for your treachery.’

In light of the crackling flames his smile was humourless. ‘It may be tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. But rest assured, M’sieur Absalon, it
will
happen. And sooner rather than later. One morning when Watson and I are back in London, I will pick up
The Times
and with much delight will read that you have become another victim of the organization you once prized so much. In other words, my dear M’sieur Absalon, you have just become a marked man, just as you yourself marked Gaston Verne, Jules Verne, Gabriel Bessette and Lydie Denier for death.’

‘Poetic justice,’ muttered Watson. ‘It’s not a very pleasant feeling, is it?’

I
t was a bright afternoon, and for late March the weather was pleasantly warm. Tables had been set up overlooking the manicured grounds behind Verne’s house in Amiens. Here, shaded by colourful umbrellas, the writer’s guests looked on, amused, as on hands and knees he played with the grandson he had seldom seen while estranged from his son.

At last Verne sat back, breathless with activity and laughter. The year-old toddler, who was named after Michel, quickly crawled to his grandfather and stared up at him, eyes alive with merriment.

‘Enough!’ Verne pleaded. ‘I am an old man now … far too old to keep up with a young sprout like you!’

But the boy would hear none of it. He tugged on Verne’s sleeve and giggled, anxious to continue the game.

‘Well … at least let me … get my breath back … first,’ managed Verne.

At one of the tables, Honorine chatted with her pregnant daughter-in-law, Jeanne. She was eager to get to know the attractive girl, whom everyone called ‘Maja’, and Maja in turn was eager to know her. At nineteen the former Jeanne Raboul was much younger than her husband, but deeply devoted to him. One could see that in the loving way she gazed at him, as he stood nearby enjoying the sight of his father bonding with his grandchild.

At another table Watson watched the Verne family finally getting along and beamed at Holmes beside him. ‘Isn’t it wonderful to see them so happy?’ he remarked.

‘It is indeed.’

‘And just think, we were at least partly responsible for it.’

‘Modesty, thy name is John Watson,’ Holmes said. But he was joking. And raising his lemonade glass to Watson, he added: ‘May I propose a toast, old friend?’

‘Please do.’

‘To the memory of Lydie Denier.’

Immediately Watson felt his throat tighten. ‘I hope you mean that,’ he said, touching glasses.

‘My dear man, when have you ever heard me speak of death in jest?’

Watson smiled, satisfied. ‘Thank you, Holmes. That means a great deal to me.’

They both drank.

‘Regardless of her motives,’ Holmes continued, ‘she decided to help us bring about the destruction of the Knaves, and albeit indirectly, she did exactly that by communicating to us the importance of the contents of Absalon’s safe.’

That was, of course, an understatement. Once Henri Gillet and the
Ministère de la Justice
had had the opportunity to examine the contents of the safe, it became clear that they had more than enough evidence to bring about a series of arrests at just about every level of society. All across France,
businessmen
, politicians, judges – even Edouard Orand, the director of the Sanatorium de Russy, and the man named Prideaux, who had killed Gabriel Bessette in his Amiens jail cell – had been arrested and were awaiting trial.

The files and folders had contained the names, addresses and aliases of its many members, details of the banks in which the Knaves’ funds were held, a detailed list of payments –
bribes
– as well as the names of the recipients. It was enough to keep Gillet busy for a long time, and to make him a very happy man in the process.

‘To Lydie,’ murmured Watson, sadly.

‘And to you, old friend,’ said Holmes, smiling. ‘Remember, it
was your concern for my welfare that brought us to France, and your decision to enlist Henri’s help. Let us make no bones about it – without your initiative and his intervention, we would have been finished. That, I believe, makes it
twice
you have saved my life in the past few weeks.’

‘I wouldn’t go as far as to say that,’ Watson said
self-consciously
.

‘Please, no false modesty,’ Holmes chided. ‘It rankles me as much as bragging.’

‘Very well,’ Watson said, secretly pleased. ‘I shall accept my role in this escapade with as much dignity and aplomb as I can muster.’

Holmes wasn’t listening. ‘Though in the end,’ he admitted, ‘despite the fact that your idea of a rest cure brought with it no shortage of mortal danger, I have to tell you that I have seldom felt as invigorated as I do today.’

‘Careful, Holmes. That sounds awfully like a compliment.’

‘It was meant to be. You are a very wise man, Watson … for I cannot remember when I last enjoyed a holiday quite so much!’

‘Tell that to your bees,’ Watson joked. ‘I’m sure it would relieve the monotony of their hum-drum lives.’

‘Never knock monotony,’ Holmes said with a rare smile. ‘For from monotony comes the pure, sweet honey you so enjoy.’