Against the Brotherhood (5 page)

With my most profound affection and esteem,

Paterson Erskine Guthrie

It was not as elegant a letter as I wanted to write, but under the circumstances, I felt it conveyed my most pressing concerns in a way that would not displease Mycroft Holmes or Elizabeth Roedale. I gave it to Mister Holmes to peruse.

“Very good, Guthrie,” he approved as he handed it back to me. “Tyers will carry it to Twyford when he has completed his daily visit to his mother.”

“How is she?” I asked, recalling how dire her case was. I folded the letter, put it in an envelope, and sealed it, writing Elizabeth’s full name and direction on it.

“Failing,” said Holmes. “Tyers expects to be summoned for the end at any moment. It is very sad.”

“Will you extend my sympathies to Tyers,” I requested as I handed the letter to Mister Holmes once more.

“I will,” said Mycroft Holmes. “And now, I think it would be best for you to leave with James. You have been in here long enough to convince those watching that you have caught the interest of a solicitor. Make sure you do your parting from him abruptly, so that your watcher will know that all did not go to your satisfaction.” He gestured to the door before handing me ten shillings. “Carry on. I will expect to see you tomorrow.”

“God willing,” I replied, and went to the door. “How do I account for this money?”

“Any way you like. Theft would be one explanation, and not an unexpected one,” Mycroft Holmes suggested with a wicked twist of his lips.

“Theft,” I repeated as I left him alone.

James was sitting behind the desk in the outer room, bent over a stack of papers. He looked up as I came up to him. “You are done?”

“For today. I will come again tomorrow, if there is anything to report.” I noticed that James was preparing a brief, and this startled me.

“I must convince the world at large that I am a solicitor,” he pointed out to me. “Or this deception becomes more dangerous to all of us.”

“And are you a solicitor?” I asked, thinking that it was possible.

“I am a barrister, in fact,” said James with pride. “I am on the Prime Minister’s staff.” He raised his head as he reached for his well-worn robes. “He assigned me to work with Mycroft Holmes when the matter of the Freising Treaty began.”

“That was last year, was it not?” I asked, mentally reviewing the many notes I had transcribed in the last few months. “Some dealings with Germany.”

“It was; Bavaria, actually. The matter was assumed settled, but it now appears there may be some difficulty. A few of the less public provisions... you understand.” James clearly disliked difficulty. He gathered up his papers and consigned them to his portfolio once again. “This way, if you please.”

I followed him down the hall, doing my best to resume the manner of August Jeffries as I went, so that by the time we stepped onto the narrow street, my expression was truculent. “I’ll get your damned money, then,” I said, loudly enough to attract the attention of several persons passing by.

“I will wait for your call, Mister... Jeffries, is it?” James was able to make himself subservient and arrogant at once, and I admired this talent even as I prepared—in Jeffries’ character—to despise it.

“And right well you know it is Jeffries. August Jeffries; you will hear my name again, I give you my word, sir,” I snarled, and turned away toward the Cap and Balls, letting my shoulders hunch as with anger and despair. I noticed that the beaked man was twenty yards or so behind me, ambling along as if distracted by the activity in the street around him.

Mister Holt was in the taproom by the time I got back, and he poured out a serving of gin as I came through the door. “You look like you could use it.”

I took the drink and threw twice the cost of it on the bar. “Make sure I have a second,” I snapped, and made my way to the inglenook. The odor of junipers was so strong that I nearly gagged as I brought the glass to my lips. Belatedly I thought I should have asked for a slice of beef and some cheese while I was with Mister Holmes. I decided I would not be so foolish in future. Realizing I should make some display of the few coins in my possession, I drew two of them out of my pocket and held them up. “Tonight I’d like a bit of supper, Mister Holt.”

“Oho, so you made a few pence today,” the landlord declared. “Well, what would you like?”

“You might say that I made them,” I answered, being deliberately evasive. “And it’s shillings, not pence.”

Holt shrugged. “It’s all one to me how you came by it, so long as you meet the price here.”

“Well, this should get me enough to fill my belly.” I put my hand squarely on the small tabletop. “And none of those portions that are all fat and gristle, if you please. Let me have the best meat here.”

“It’s a mutton stew today,” Holt informed me. “A bowl is ten pence, bread and cheese with it, fourteen pence ha’penny.”

“I’ll have the lot,” I said, tossing him one of the shillings. “And a pot of mustard for sauce.”

He caught it easily and tucked it away in his apron pocket. “I’ll be back with it fast as you can say knife.”

I hunched over the gin as I waited; I saw the beak-nosed man come into the taproom and settle himself near the door where a pair of draymen were muttering over their beer. He made no sign of seeing me, and showed no interest in anyone in the taproom, but I knew that if I rose to visit the necessary house, he would not be far behind me. As Holt brought the bowl of stew I had ordered with a plate of bread and cheese, I noticed my observer look surprised.

“There you are, Mister Jeffries, and may you enjoy your supper,” said the landlord as he put it before me. “Food and drink enough for any man.”

“True enough,” I said, and sniffed at the stew, which seemed flavored only with pepper. I would need the mustard to make it edible.

“You’ll have another glass when that one is empty,” Holt reminded me before he went back to his station behind the bar.

I was hungry enough to enjoy this unpromising fare; it would absorb the worst of the gin, or so I hoped, for tonight I reckoned I would need my wits about me if Vickers returned.

FROM THE PERSONAL JOURNAL OF PHILIP TYERS:

Today Mother was much worse, sunk into a dreamy state that does not bode well for her life.

M.H. has been about errands for the Bavarian treaty; he returned here in a country squire’s riding gear and the look of a man who had taken a nasty fall riding to hounds. Upon my examination of him, I discovered he was bleeding in the shoulder, whereupon he produced the weapon which had inflicted the injury—a small skinning knife with a thin, wicked blade. “Much more of this,” he told me, “and I’ll have to send for Sutton ahead of schedule.”
During his absence from this flat, he has learned that there is likely to be an attempt to steal the treaty before it can be signed. No amount of coaxing on my part would persuade him to tell me more than this concerning his escapades. He hopes that
G.
will provide the information necessary to prevent such a theft, for it would be a disaster.

IT WAS AFTER
nine when Vickers at last put in an appearance in the taproom of the Cap and Balls. By this time I had almost assumed he would not arrive that night, and was on the point of going to my damp and unpleasant little room, and so was not as fully prepared to deal with the man as I had been rather earlier.

“Did you achieve your goal today, Mister Jeffries?” asked Vickers without any salutation whatever. He had obtained a glass of his port from Holt, and had taken up the same place he had occupied the night before.

“I found a solicitor who is willing to undertake my case, if that’s what you mean. For thirty pounds.” I spat this last out, making a show of my anger.

“A goodly sum, but surely worth it if he can expedite securing the funds your father left you?” He lifted his glass in my direction, and I had to hide the qualms he gave me by this civility.

“It’s robbery, and no mistake about it. Just because he may have to dodge around the terms of the will a little.” I scoffed as I laughed. “That’s what lawyers are supposed to do, isn’t it?”

“There are those who think so,” said Vickers. He watched me for a short while in a silence as stretched and miserable as a miser’s purse strings. “You have had supper, or so I gather.”

“I was hungry,” I grumbled.

“But with so little... pardon me for mentioning your straitened circumstances, but it is not what I would expect, this dining.” He showed me his teeth. “You must have had unexpected good fortune today.”

“I... came across a little money, and I decided to eat,” I told him, doing my best to appear boastful about it and sly at the same time.

“And how did you... er... come across it, pray?” Vickers persisted.

It was an effort to answer as he stared at me. “I saw a gent leave a pouch. In the solicitor’s chamber. He didn’t look back for it, so I picked it up when he was gone. There weren’t much in it.” I was able to sound ill used by this unfortunate trick of fate.

“Still, to have a few shillings just now must be welcome.” Vickers met my look with his own, far more predatory stare.

“Amen to that, Mister Vickers,” I said, lifting my half-empty glass of gin to him.

He sprang his trap. “And I imagine you are not above undertaking something not quite within the law in order to—”

“Hey, now, Mister Vickers. I won’t risk no Brixton holiday for a handful of shillings.” I shook my head emphatically.

“No, of course, not for a few shillings,” Vickers agreed. “But if you could gain, say, thirty pounds, what then?”

“Thirty pounds,” I said as if the amount were new to me; I used Vickers’ own words back at him. “A good piece of money is thirty pounds.”

“Good enough to pay a solicitor named James to break your father’s will, which is what must be done for you to touch a penny of what he left you. You would need to have your family here to come by the inheritance legitimately,” said Vickers smoothly. “Last night I offered to help you out of your current... shall we say embarrassments? I have given the matter a great deal of thought, and it strikes me that you are the sort of man who would not tend to be overly nice in his requirements of employment. Surely I am not in error?”

My shock was only partly false. “How’d you know about the will?” I demanded, hoping my indignation rang true for August Jeffries. “I won’t say as you’re wrong about me, but I don’t like anyone messing about in my affairs.”

“I am interested in you, Mister Jeffries,” Vickers assured me. “When someone interests me, I am at pains to learn all I may about them.”

“But I said nothing of the terms, at least not—” My bluster had the right undertone of desperation to it, which pleased me.

“Some of my men have taken it upon themselves to discover how truthful your accounts have been.” He smiled at me again, and I knew how a deer felt when the wolf crossed its path.

“How did you get into the records of the law courts?” I demanded, aware that he must have bribed someone in an important post to secure the information in so little time. “It is no easy thing to get the terms of inheritance revealed if you are not party to it.”

“And so quickly, too,” added Vickers. “I went to those who are able to help me and inclined to do this for me.” He saw my glass was empty and ordered another glass of that appalling gin for me.

“It weren’t right of you to do that,” I complained, but softly, to show that I was momentarily cowed by this sinister fellow.

“But I needed to assure myself that you had not lied overmuch to me. I thought a few of your statements in regard to the terms of your father’s will sounded a bit questionable, and now I have my suppositions confirmed.” He leaned forward, his expression growing more lupine than it had been earlier. “I would think you would be willing to undertake the commission I propose in order to lay your hands on thirty pounds.” He rubbed the tips of his fingers together, an expression of malicious anticipation on his sharp features. “Shall I sweeten the pot by, say, another fifteen pounds, plus the expenses of your travel?”

“That’d be near fifty pounds,” I said, as if I had been offered the Crown Jewels.

“So it would,” Vickers agreed. “To journey to a place near Munich, in Bavaria.”

“Bavaria,” I repeated, thinking of what I had learned earlier that day. “What is in Bavaria?”

“There is a man there who is bringing a document from there to England. The man is married to a German noblewoman, but is, himself, a Scotsman. It would be his second marriage. What I propose is a ruse of sorts. I must know what is in that document, what it says and how it is to be enforced.” He was growing restless with purpose. “I will pay you forty-five pounds as well as all your costs of travel to obtain that information for me before the document reaches England.”

I shook my head. “How do you expect the likes of me to do that?” I asked. “I can’t think of any reason such a man would permit me to get near him.”

“He might take you to help him if his own valet should meet with an... accident.” The real meaning of that last word was dreadfully plain; the accident was expected to be fatal.

“You mean you expect me to kill a man for thirty pounds?” I exclaimed, my dinner settling like clods behind my belt.

“Forty-five, Mister Jeffries. Forty-five pounds, at the least. Given the expense of your travel, I would think that it may well be closer to sixty pounds before the venture is done.” He chuckled. “Don’t tell me a man of your cut would balk at a murder?”

“I never killed no one before,” I said, making it sound as if the notion was truly offensive. “And not for such a sum.”

Vickers looked thoroughly amused. “Then this will be a new experience for you, no doubt,” he said, and settled back in his chair. “I want your answer tonight, Jeffries. I do not want you to spend the night fretting over your decision, for that will always lead to the circumspection that is not welcome to me.” He steepled his fingers once again, and looked at me over that peak. “It would be folly for you to hesitate, for even with thirty pounds, your solicitor may find his work scrutinized by the courts and your machinations could be discovered, which would have severe consequences for you.”

I glowered. “I can’t have that.”

“No, you certainly cannot. So it would be worthwhile for you to give me an answer in the affirmative.” He watched me closely, though he made it appear he had no interest in me at the moment.

“This man, then, the Scotsman. What would I have to do?” I begrudged the question as if I disliked having my hand exposed.

“Read the document he carries and return here in advance of him with all the details I have stipulated. I will need to know before the Prime Minister has read it what is contained in it.” His answer was swift.

“And the Scotsman would not have to have an... accident?” I was pleased at how avaricious I sounded, and how unprincipled.

“No; in fact he must not be allowed to suspect anything. If he has the least suspicion that his mission has been compromised, he will make this known to those around him and that would be worse for my purpose than having the document arrive here without benefit of discovering its contents.”

“What sort of document is it?” I asked, anticipating a lie for my answer. I was not disappointed.

“I have no idea,” said Vickers, making no effort to hide his mendacity. “And that is the source of my trouble.”

“I see. You may need to act if there are certain proposals within the document which would not favor you. That is why you want it examined and your questions about it answered,” I said, as if grasping the whole of the problem.

“Yes. You see, if it turns out that certain enterprises of mine are at risk because of the terms of the document, I must have advance warning of it in order to minimize the losses I would suffer because of it. Surely in your factoring for cotton buyers, there have been times when a little advance knowledge has saved you from serious difficulties.” This last was another open appeal to Jeffries’ capacity for larceny.

“It would be a challenge to try to discover the details of the document,” I said, as if warming to the prospect. “It might even be that some of the information could be turned to my advantage.”

“It is possible,” seconded Vickers, again offering his temptation.

I took more of the gin in the glass Holt brought than was prudent, and hoped as I did that it would not go to my head. “Fifty pounds, perhaps sixty, to go to Bavaria and deal with this Scotsman and the document he carries.”

“That is the enterprise, yes,” said Vickers. “And if you can turn your labor to your advantage, so much the better.”

It struck me then that Vickers was planning to have me—as Jeffries—killed at the conclusion of the venture; he had no other reason to be so expansive and helpful as he made himself appear if his intentions were less fatal; I tried to look more fuddled than I was, and slurred my words when I said, “Then you had better tell me when you expect me to leave, so I can be ready betimes.”

“I think there is a packet leaving tomorrow evening for Amsterdam. If you take the train down tomorrow, you will arrive in plenty of time to be aboard her.” He clapped his hands together. “The sooner you begin, the sooner the money is yours.”

“Amsterdam is a strange port for Bavaria,” I remarked.

“You do not want to go the obvious way,” said Vickers. “In case your actions are traced later, you would not like the destination and purpose of your travels to be too readily apparent.”

“Yes, I take your meaning. Very well, Amsterdam it is,” I agreed, doing my best to seem eager for the work. “But I will have to call upon solicitor James in the morning, to inform him I will shortly have the money he has demanded of me.”

“Of course,” Vickers agreed, so quickly that I was certain that my impression of his intentions where I was concerned were correct. “Do that. And prepare a note for any relative you might want to be alerted to your whereabouts. Your half-brother, for instance, may want to know where you have gone. To say nothing of your wife; you would not want her to worry.” He put his hands on the arms of the chair. “I will see that they are delivered at once.”

“Good of you,” I said, lifting the glass to him and steeling myself for the hideous stuff.

“I will meet you here at eleven in the morning. I will accompany you to your train and I will give you your instructions then, and all the money you will need for your traveling.” He rose from his chair in a single energetic movement. “Until then, let me congratulate you on your decision. You have made a wise bargain.” He held out his hand, and I did my best to hide my reluctance as I took it.

“It’s a privilege to be doing work for a fine gentleman like yourself, Mister Vickers. You won’t have any cause to regret it; my word on it.” I tried to make it sound as if I was completely won over, but I feared that my inward consternation was not adequately disguised.

“Sleep well, Mister Jeffries,” said Vickers. “You will need to be alert tomorrow.”

“I’ll take myself off at once, if it please you, sir.” I bowed my head slightly to him and made myself smile ingratiatingly.

When Vickers strolled out of the taproom, I felt a pall had been lifted from the place. The fire seemed to burn more brightly, the lamps were cheerier than they had been while Vickers occupied the place.

I glanced toward Holt and saw him shake his head once as if in sympathy or unhappiness. I discovered in myself an urge to tell the man I was not deceived by the blandishments and tantalization offered by Vickers, but I was able to stop myself in time. I tossed him a thr’penny bit and left the taproom whistling.

Once in my room, I began to make a number of notes to myself, which I quickly destroyed as it occurred to me that I might well still be observed and subject to unwelcome scrutiny by Vickers’ agents; if I were foolish enough to make a record of my impressions and thoughts, I might not be alive come morning. As I burned the last of these notes in the candle, I heard a sharp rap at my door. “A moment,” I called out, and put the ashes into the pocket of my coat so as not to draw attention to what I had been doing. I made a point of taking my pistol as I went to the door.

The elderly man with the Devonshire accent stood in the doorway, a cordial smile on his pinched features. He wore a hacking jacket of west-country weave, as if he had just come to town for the day. His breeches were chestnut-colored and his shirt was so white he could not have ridden here directly. The waistcoat was of a tapestry brocade. The country squire-scholar to the life. “Good evening, Mister Jeffries. I am informed that you have agreed to undertake a short journey on Mister Vickers’ behalf.”