The Flying Scotsman (29 page)

I have also received a missive from Commander Winslowe, who it seems is most displeased with MH’s conduct in this whole affair. He claims he is going to make a formal complaint, but that’s as may be. Whatever has him so upset now might well seem less important once the mission is complete.

Superintendent Spencer has sent no reply to the messages I have had carried to him. I will have to inform MH of this. This may account for my inability to make contact with CI Somerford, who has either removed himself from the mission, or who has chosen to conduct his investigation in as much secrecy as he can secure. With Superintendent Spencer so adamant about protecting the good name of the police, he could have decided that to accomplish anything he will have to act in a covert manner and not with the full scrutiny of Scotland Yard upon him.

“AN ASSASSIN,
or
rather, two assassins working in concert,” said Mycroft Holmes. “According to the information provided by ... a most knowledgeable source, we must consider that the attempts on Herr
Schere’s life were made by this infernal team.”

“Loki,” added Miss Gatspy with such confidence that the three of us stared at her. “Well,” she said, “that is the code name they use. We first encountered it some years ago and nothing has happened to change it.”

“Yes,” Holmes confirmed, as I stared at her in astonishment: how could she have kept this crucial information from us? “Loki is the name.” He studied her face. “I assume you in the Golden Lodge have some information on this ... these men?”

“Yes. We keep records on many of the assassins working in the world, and when we can we arrange for them to be discovered and detained. We have not had such an opportunity where Loki is concerned, for when one is in danger the other becomes his protector in the most vengeful sense. There was an occasion, about eight years ago, when one had been held for questioning, that the other murdered nineteen people to force a release of his partner. The government in Montreal was able to silence most of the reports on the incident, but the Golden Lodge has friends in Canada, just as the Brotherhood does.” She did not smile but her pride in this was apparent in every aspect of her demeanor.

Prince Oscar nodded his approval. “I should like to know more of what your organization has found out.”

“It is not for me to tell you more than what you must know to protect yourself, Your Highness,” she said. “As much as I may tell you, I will.”

“And what does this admirable record tell you of Loki?” Mycroft Holmes asked with utmost civility. “Who are they?”

“Two men, medium height, medium build,” she said. “They have assassinations to their credit in the United States and South America as well as in Canada and Europe. There are two deaths we have attributed to them—one in Saint Petersburg, one in Bombay—but as yet have no confirmation to number them among their certain acts. From what we have learned, they are accomplished actors, very convincing in the identities they assume for their tasks, with well-rehearsed stories of youth and families to bolster their credibility and plausible enough to move virtually unnoticed through the world. They have managed to be invisible because there is nothing remarkable about them,” she went on.

“You could say that of one man in five, I suspect,” I interjected. “Any man of moderate height and build is less likely to be clearly recalled than anyone more distinctive.”

Holmes looked at me. “Such as having a green right eye and a blue left one?” he suggested gently.

“I am also slightly above average height,” I said.

“That is one of the many reasons they can succeed,” Miss Gatspy said, for once not inclined to argue with me and to keep our discussion to the purpose. “They may be anything from twenty-five to forty, although we believe that—”

“ ‘We’ being the Golden Lodge,” said Mycroft Holmes, his face set.

“Of course,” she told him. “We believe that one is at least five years older than the other, and a few in the Golden Lodge are convinced the two men are related—brothers, uncle and nephew, cousins, something of the sort.” She glanced at Holmes. “Does your source agree?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said drily.

The
Flying Scotsman
began to move once more, the engine sending white billows out into the night as it began to draw onto the main track.

“We know they have spent time in America, not only for the purpose of assassination, but we do not think they are Americans,” she said firmly. “We are of the opinion that one of them may have been raised there, but that is far from certain. Our records indicate that one of them was wounded four years ago, and some of our officers think a different man replaced one of the two men afterwards, but that is by no means certain.” She looked in my direction. “You have seen how coolly they work.”

“I would agree, but for the spent shells,” I said, determined not to be too much taken with her description.

She laughed. “Good God, you don’t mean that you actually thought—Don’t you know that the shells were left to confuse you? Surely you do not think the weapon they use really is a German hunting rifle, possibly one from Mauser, do you? The shells are left to create an incorrect impression, to make investigators wear themselves out searching for a rare weapon when the one in question is not uncommon, but not quite ordinary either. Our authorities say that the weapon they use is an American Sharps rifle. I suspect they are basing this more on familiarity than fact. The Sharps is certainly capable of being the weapon, but is too bulky to conceal and we’ve had not a single sighting of a man with a rifle anywhere near any of the shooting scenes.”

I sat listening in an emotion that was very nearly dismay, for I could not summon up any argument to offer in the face of such persuasion. I was aware that Mycroft Holmes was as convinced as I. “What makes your ... superiors in the Golden Lodge so sure of these things?”

“I’ve told you we have records. We have a most interesting file on Loki. When the attempt was made at Saint Paul’s and the empty shells were found, the Golden Lodge took up the search for Loki at once. Our files are extensive, Mister Holmes—comb. They are gathered from every place in the world where the Brotherhood has a foothold, and they are reviewed and compared twice each year. I believe we may have the most complete compilation of assassins to be found anywhere in the world.” She was not exactly boasting, but she was not showing excessive humility, either.

“A very useful register,” said Mycroft Holmes. “And if it is as exhaustive as you claim, I would very much want to see it if such could be arranged.” He did not dwell on this unlikely possibility, but went on, “When you came aboard this train, did you suppose the assassin we were dealing with was this Loki?”

“As I have said already, since the attempt in front of Saint Paul’s,” she said. “It is precisely what Loki did in the Argentine, only there the second assassin was able to strike that evening while the police pursued the first of the pair through the streets of Buenos Aires. The man was the Finance Minister, and his death threw certain crucial mining negotiations into confusion.”

“I recall the event,” said Mycroft Holmes emphatically. “But as I recollect, a man was executed for the crime.”

“Yes, because someone had to have the blame, and both Lokis were gone from the country, well beyond the reach of the Argentines. Not that they bothered to look once they found a man who owned a printing press and a Mauser .30-caliber hunting rifle.” She smiled without humor or mirth. “Your use of this train was a masterful stroke, sir,” she continued, her whole attention on Holmes so utterly that I might have found it in my heart to be jealous, were I inclined to such an emotion where Miss Gatspy was concerned.

“It would have been if we had kept to schedule. But, as you see, we have been thrown into disorder.” He did his best to look unconcerned about this, but I could see how very dismayed he was beneath his sang-froid.

Prince Oscar studied the shaded window. “Do you think I have anything to fear?”

“Probably not, had all gone according to plan,” said Miss Gatspy, “but there have been too many delays and misadventures to—”

Mycroft Holmes thumped his fist onto his knee. “This is a most damnable coil. I do not apologize for my intemperate language, Miss Gatspy, for the situation would be made trivial by less forceful words.”

“The train has been slowed by more than half its usual speed, and that, in turn, increases the risk of exposure to ... Herr Schere.” She favored me with a look I did not know how to read. “I believe that Loki might have been puzzled or thrown off the scent at the first, but once we were delayed in Bedford and Sheffield, I worried that Loki would know to come after us.”

“Do you say that there are spies on this train?” I demanded, feeling foolish, for I knew of two already; yet I would not betray my knowledge to her without learning more.

“No doubt. But I doubt that they suspected your ploy until after the Jardine murder,” said Miss Gatspy. “That was a lucky mischance for Loki and their agents.”

“Then you think they have pursued us?” Prince Oscar’s visage was somber, which was hardly amazing given the circumstances.

“I presume one followed the navy’s double,” Holmes interjected. “But your point is well-taken; the other may be aboard.”

“And may have been from the first,” said Miss Gatspy. “You are not the only one to see the advantages of Scotland. If Loki wished to reduce the risk of both being captured, one might well go north while the other went toward the Channel.”

“I wish this did not make so much sense,” said Holmes. “Since I have read the report from my source, I have wondered if we might have inadvertently put ourselves in harm’s way, and given the assassin a new opportunity.” He lowered his head, pondering. “Or, more sinister still, if the assassin were informed he would have an opportunity to finish his work on this journey. If the police have been compromised, might not the corrupted officer or officers inform the assassin of Herr Schere’s whereabouts? If that is the case, the assassin might have been able to monitor the progress of the damned journey and come aboard to finish his task. Given the delays we have encountered, the man could well catch this train if he departed from London an hour or so after we did.” He turned his somber gaze on Prince Oscar. “I must apologize for putting you so much at risk.”

“Tut,” said the Prince with a jauntiness that startled me. “You had no reason to think you were doing that—in fact, your intentions were quite the opposite—when you arranged this departure and our little deception. A man in my position must understand the game that is played for high stakes.” He nodded in my direction. “So far, it appears Guthrie has taken the brunt of our hazards, and for that I am extremely grateful.”

We were finally traveling at speed once again, the train swaying in regular rhythm with the click of the wheels.

I felt color mount in my bruised face. “You’re most gracious. I am only doing my work.”

“Oh, very good, Guthrie,” Miss Gatspy approved, her wicked praise ringing sarcastically in my ears.

“And you have allowed Miss Gatspy the time to instruct me in all the nefarious acts of the Brotherhood. If half of what she says is true, my brother has fallen in with villains indeed.” The Prince paused. “Do you think Karl Gustav would agree with you regarding his associates in the Brotherhood? Might he not see them in much the same light as you represent the Golden Lodge? Not that I accuse you of deception, Miss Gatspy—that is not the case at all—but you are not a disinterested party, and you have good reason to persuade me to view your work in a favorable light and the efforts of the Brotherhood in a negative one.”

“No one is truly disinterested,” I said before anyone else could speak. “If they claim to be, they are the most subtle of all, and you would do well to be wary of them. Those who have reason to know these things cannot understand what the issues are and remain disinterested unless they are also wholly removed from the world.”

“Very good, Guthrie,” said Mycroft Holmes, echoing Miss Gatspy’s praise with none of her sarcasm. “I must concur. And so will you, Mein Herr, if you will but think about the stakes for which we are competing.” He gestured. “I think it would be best if you and Guthrie changed compartments. You need not move your luggage, but if you will stay here in compartment three, Guthrie will occupy compartment four, ready to deal with any incursions that may arise.”

I had expected something of the sort and so I showed no surprise at this recommendation. “That is satisfactory to me, sir,” I said.

Prince Oscar shook his head. “You have taken more than your share of risks, Guthrie. It is time I—”

Mycroft Holmes made bold to interrupt. “You will have to face your brother once you arrive home, and all his support within your court and government. Here we are in a position to guard you, and it is appropriate for us to do so. This is a minor thing, and furthermore, it is part of Guthrie’s duties to provide this protection. I ask you to reconsider; if you move to this compartment, you will have a degree of protection that we could not otherwise offer you.”

I decided to add my observations. “If you think that bruises are enough to make me useless, you do not know what a mentor like my employer can teach. Once we arrive in Scotland, I will have ample opportunity to rest, while you will be entering a more demanding phase of your task as a leader. My bruises will heal. You will need all your steadfastness for many months to come. I am pleased to be able to secure a short respite for you, if you will but allow it.”

“By all means,” Miss Gatspy put in. “I have seen Guthrie in action before, and I can assure you he has endured worse than this for far less obvious benefits.” Her smile in my direction made me bristle with indignation.

The Prince coughed delicately. “Perhaps it would be best,” he said, adding as an explanation. “I do want to do my part.”

“As well you should,” Holmes approved. “In this case your part is to make yourself as hard-to-strike a target as possible. When you reach Sweden, you may throw caution to the winds—although I hope you will not—and take whatever chances you deem necessary in the face of an implacable enemy; but while you are a guest of England and Scotland, let us do our utmost to show you our high regard for you.”