The Fall: Illustrated Edition (An Anna Kronberg Thriller Book 2) (33 page)

‘Thank you.’

He exhaled, his moustache bristling. ‘My second request is criminal. I was abducted by James Moriarty and spent one-hundred and eighty-four days in his house. I ended up sharing his bed.’ A surprised puff and a reddening of cheeks were his only response. ‘I believed myself unable to bear children. An injury, long ago. However…’ I lowered my head as though this would lessen the shame. ‘I am with child and I need an abortion conducted by a skilled surgeon.’

‘By Jove!’ cried Watson and jumped from his seat.

The door opened abruptly and Mycroft’s head stuck through the gap. I held up my hand. He nodded, and retreated.

‘May I,’ Watson said while pointing at my lower abdomen. I rose and took a step forward. Gently, he pressed my stomach, his gaze measuring. ‘It might be about four months now.’

‘Yes, I think that is correct.’

‘We will have to be quick,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Are you certain?’

‘I tried an abortifacient twice. It was unsuccessful. I am absolutely certain. Dr Watson, I cannot raise James Moriarty’s child!’

He took my hand and we sat down again. ‘As soon as we are done with this excursion, I will remove the child from your womb. If we wait any longer, it will be too big to be extracted.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, leaned back, and gazed out of the window while Watson called the other two back in.

‘Moriarty just missed us at the station,’ noted Holmes with concern. ‘I wonder how he thought we would plan to reach the continent? This is puzzling…’

‘He must be in pain and extremely furious; intellectually his weakest and least predictable state, but also his most dangerous.’ Upon the Holmes brothers’ enquiring looks I added, ‘He has a problem with his spinal column which causes severe pain in his shoulders, neck, and head. Did you see him hunch and blink his eyes yesterday morning?’ Holmes nodded. ‘He grows highly sensitive to light, noise and odours, and to disappointment in general. Rabid is the word that comes to mind…’
 

I turned away, trying to force dark memories of the nights with James out of my head. The compartment suddenly seemed too crowded. I excused myself and went to the lavatory, opening the window to let the wind ruffle my hair.

Upon my return, Holmes announced, ‘Moriarty will engage a special — that is at least what I would do. We will exit the train at Canterbury, travel cross country to New Haven, and set over to Dieppe. There, Watson and I will make our way towards Switzerland while you, Mycroft, will accompany Anna to Leipzig. Do you have your revolver?’

Mycroft snorted, holding two fingers up. Good, then I would have one, too.
 

‘I do hope a wire is waiting for us at Canterbury,’ he said, with a look to his older brother.
 

‘There will be, trust me,’ said Mycroft.

Canterbury came soon enough and we got off the train, Holmes all the while scanning our surroundings. Suddenly he cried, ‘There he comes! Here, hide,’ and pushed us towards a pile of luggage.
 

Far away in the woods of Kent rose a sliver of smoke, quickly approaching and dashing past us. Oddly uncomplicated, I thought, and my mistrust grew to nausea. What was James up to?

Mycroft Holmes went to the stationmaster to enquire about a message, returning only a minute later, a half-smile on his face.

‘My friends have done excellent work. Your father is rather hard to find, Dr Kronberg, which is of importance given the circumstances. He and his friend Matthias Berger left Geneva two days ago. Unclear is whether both are returning to Meiringen or have parted on the way. I suppose you two,’ he nodded at his brother and Dr Watson, ‘will be having a splendid time in the Rhone valley.’ He gazed down at me. ‘How is the eye?’

I shrugged. ‘Black, I guess.’
 

He barked a laugh, then said softly, ‘You and I will begin our search at your father’s home. If he’s not there, we will work our way towards Switzerland.’

We boarded the ship to Dieppe in the afternoon. When Holmes went for a smoke on deck, I joined him.

Before I could utter a word, he began, ‘Moriarty has set up an astonishing criminal network all over London and Europe. It was impossible to find them all, but the main players will be arrested on Monday.’ Holmes peered over my head, assessing the proximity of other passengers, then beckoned me over to the railing. ‘Moriarty had a wife and a son. Both died of tetanus only days after the child was born. Four months later he initiated the Club to test this same disease on paupers. I learned about this only three days before you were able to free yourself. The cold-bloodedness of this man is unmatched and I deeply regret having let you stay there for so long.’
 

‘It was my decision.’

‘I sincerely wish you had a greater sense of self preservation.’ His gaze was penetrating, as though he wanted to climb behind my facade and extract more information.

‘Holmes, I do not wish to talk about James and myself. Someday, perhaps, but not now.’

Without delay, he changed the topic. ‘Mycroft and I were taking Moriarty’s network apart. Carefully putting pressure on the weaker links, we were preparing to arrest the more stubborn men. Come Monday, that man’s organisation will be non-operational.’

I gazed out across the sea. The sun was preparing to set. Gulls sailed quietly over the waves. All spoke of beauty and peace while the inside of me raged with a chaos of foreboding, shame, guilt, and pain.

‘Were you able to find out who supported Moriarty’s idea for a new draft of the Brussels Declaration?’

A hollow breath was followed by a crestfallen answer. ‘As it happens, I wasn’t. The entire business is rather complicated and I’m not entirely certain why Moriarty wanted to change the Convention at all. It forbids the spreading, by any means whatsoever, of disease on enemy territory, while at the same time it lacks any enforcement provisions. Whatever laws there are for warfare, no one would ever be arrested for not abiding by them. Although he must have known this, he invested a great amount of energy convincing them to remove that section on disease. I am not quite certain why, but it is highly alarming.’

‘It has already been changed?’
 

‘Yes, unfortunately.’

‘More work for us then,’ I said. He nodded absentmindedly.

‘Holmes?’

‘Hmm?’

 
‘You look pale and worn out. But what worries me most is that you appear… far away. Why? What troubles you so much?’

He turned away and gazed at the sunset. I didn’t get an answer.

— anton —
 

W
e parted in Dieppe. Without looking into my eyes, Holmes had simply tipped his hat and walked away while Watson squeezed my hand longer than necessary.

Mycroft Holmes and I boarded the night train to Hamburg, then Berlin and Leipzig. We talked little. Tension and fear tied my tongue.

Late the following morning, we hailed a carriage to take us to my childhood home. The closer we got, the worse the anxiety dug into my stomach. As the cab would have drawn too much attention, I let the driver drop us off before entering the village.

The way up the hill was steep, and Mycroft was sweating and huffing after the first twenty yards. I had no patience to wait for him and ran the last half mile to the house after having given him instructions on how to find it.

The path up the hill towards the village . Late 19
^th
century. (21)

Without the chickens, the garden looked abandoned. I ran through the small gate, searched for the key in the cherry tree’s knothole, and opened the door to the house. The curtains were drawn, but the stuffiness and dust I expected were missing. If my father had been absent for months, who had cleaned the house recently?

‘Good morning, Dr Kronberg,’ a voice crept from the darkness. The man spoke perfect German. His faint outlines, relaxed with hands in his pockets, appeared in the far corner. His hat overshadowed his eyes, a glint of a smile flashed across the room.
 

‘Where is my father?’

‘Ah, well. Who can know for sure? Heaven maybe? Or hell?’

‘Did you… are you…’ Like a fish on the sand, I could only gape.

‘You stupid girl. Did you really believe you could with play us? Your father is currently in the church, but he will not be buried on church ground because he took his own life.’

‘You are lying!’ I cried, saltwater creeping down my cheeks and wetting my mouth.

‘Of course I am, or maybe not? After all, he
did
take the poison I gave him. Does that make him a victim or does that make him a man who committed suicide to avoid the bullet? A philosophical question, clearly, but what the neighbours believe must be the truth, don’t you think?’

I could barely breathe, my mind was blaring so loudly, my heart aching so badly that I was close to losing control.

‘And now?’ I asked, voice quivering.

‘What kind of question is
that
? Shouldn’t you first marvel at the plan that got you here, all alone, then show some fear and maybe scream for help?’

Finally my survival instinct flicked the switch and my mind came back to life. ‘I have never screamed for help in my entire life. And the plan is obvious, don’t you think?’ By now, Mycroft should have reached the house. I dearly hoped he would eavesdrop before rumbling through the door. But what would eavesdropping help if he did not understand a word of German?

‘I could make you scream, but I was told not to. What a pity. Now, how is the plan obvious?’

‘The night before yesterday, James Moriarty sent a wire to you and ordered you to kill my father. I guess you have been following him for a while now, because he had just arrived here, cleaned up, was about to feel at home again when you came to end his life.
 

James’s plan was to separate Holmes and me. It was likely that I would come here while Holmes searched the other end of my father’s trail. You waited here to kill me, too. But I’m surprised James would dirty his hands by killing Holmes himself.’

‘Close enough. The Professor has a personal issue with Mr Holmes, and I’d think this would be all cleared up by now.’