Sherlock Holmes (2 page)

The Chinese gentleman took
another step towards us and proffered his hand to Holmes who I
could see had grasped it firmly. "Holmes! How pleased I am to see
you."

Holmes nodded slightly and
replied "And I you, your Excellency."

Both men were genuinely pleased
to meet again and, after a few moments, I was introduced to the
Chinese ambassador, Liu Shui-fen.

The Ambassador smiled, "Ah, Dr
Watson. I have heard so much about you from Holmes, I am very
pleased to meet you. We must have tea after the preview of the
exhibition." With that, he nodded a farewell and walked back
towards a small gathering of formally dressed gentlemen whom, I
assumed, were the dignitaries of the museum.

Gentle reader, I will not bore
you with the details of the speeches that were made by the
assembled dignitaries but suffice it to say that they concerned
details of how the bell had been lent to the museum for six months
by the Emperor of China himself, from his own private collection,
and that the museum was very grateful for the loan.

After the speeches, handshakes
and bows, people began to drift away but as we turned to leave, we
were approached by a large Chinaman dressed in a wide sleeved,
black silk shirt and matching trousers.

Bowing, the Chinaman said, "The
Ambassador has been given a small room here to allow him to receive
friends. If you would follow me, gentlemen."

Holmes looked at me and raised
an eyebrow whilst I followed on confidently, buoyed up by the
prospect of a cup of tea!

We were led to a small office
which had been cleared of furniture save for a low table and three
ornate oriental chairs. Sitting behind the table was the Ambassador
and standing discreetly against the wall behind him were two men
dressed in black silk. I noticed that these men stiffened slightly
at our approach, making small adjustments to the way that they
stood. They did not appear threatening, just ever watchful.

The Ambassador rose. "Mr Holmes,
Dr Watson, please sit down." He waved in the direction of the
ornate chairs and, at the same time, gave a command in rapid
Chinese to the fellow who had brought us to him.

Looking straight at me, the
Ambassador asked a somewhat searching question. "Tell me, Dr
Watson, what do you think of the Zhou bell?"

For a moment I was flustered.
"Well, Excellency, at first I thought it somewhat ordinary until
Holmes enlightened me a little as to its provenance."

The Ambassador smiled. "Yes,
Holmes has a profound knowledge of the Orient. In ancient China,
music was an essential part of court life, not only as a source of
entertainment but also for certain rituals of court. In ceremonies
to honour our ancestors, drums and groups of bells were gathered
together to produce a great variety of sounds."

I nodded as the Ambassador’s
servant brought in the tea on a black, lacquered tray. Upon the
tray were three delicately decorated white bowls and a fine
matching teapot with a bamboo handle. The Chinese servant filled
each bowl with a pale green liquid which I suspected to be green
tea. I have to say that I had not drunk green tea before. In the
course of keeping up to date with modern medical literature, I had
read reports of the medicinal effects of drinking green tea but I
had not, myself, imbibed as a social drink.

Naturally, Holmes was at his
ease having often had cause to drink it whilst in disguise in the
opium dens of London's East End. The servant bowed to each one of
us in turn before offering us one of the bowls. I waited
respectfully for the Ambassador to take the first sip and then I
followed. The taste of the tea was very cleansing. I found it
refreshing as it was served not too hot.

The Ambassador leant forwards
slightly and smiled. "The tea is to your taste, gentlemen?" Holmes
nodded, he was sitting back clearly enjoying the opportunity to
relax and absorb the ambiance.

I finished my last sip and
answered. "It is the first time that I have tried it, your
Excellency, I find it very refreshing. It reminds me of the
infusions of herbs used by English country folk."

It was Holmes’ turn to join the
conversation and I could see that his body was straightening,
becoming more business-like. Holmes smiled. "Tell, me your
Excellency, how may we be of service to you? Whilst it is very
pleasant to meet again and take tea, it is clear that it is not the
main object of our meeting. The presence of your two bodyguards,
whilst discreet, means that there is a serious matter with some
danger to be discussed."

His Excellency's smile
broadened. "I think I can see why your brother Mycroft entered the
realms of diplomacy rather than you, Holmes... but you are quite
correct."

With a slight wave of his hand
and a brief command in Chinese, the two bodyguards were dismissed.
I turned and looked over my shoulder and could see through the
glazed door that they had taken up positions either side of it. The
Ambassador moved further forward in his chair, as if to make our
conversation even more confidential.

"Gentlemen, you will be aware
that in February this year, a new Emperor formally began his reign.
He is Emperor Guangxu and it is he who has loaned the bell to the
museum." The Ambassador's voice dropped lower. "There are those
within the Imperial court that would like to see him lose face and
be embarrassed in front of an influential foreign power like Great
Britain. These people will stop at nothing to discredit Emperor
Guangxu." The Ambassador glanced around him and looked grave. "My
sources tell me that powerful enemies within the Imperial court
have recruited Chinese criminal elements in London and paid them
handsomely. I cannot openly say these things nor can I inform Her
Majesty’s government of my suspicions else I would lose my head."
The Ambassador was clearly very serious about what he had said.

Holmes’ face looked like it had
been riven from stone and he nodded to encourage the Ambassador to
continue.

"What could be more damaging to
the Emperor than if a priceless Chinese work of art was seen to be
stolen by criminal elements of the Chinese themselves? Where would
the blame lie? With the British, for allowing the theft to happen?
With the Emperor, for not suppressing the criminals and for
allowing such a treasure to leave China? The damage to both the
reputation of the Emperor and to Sino-British relations would be
catastrophic! I fear not for my own life but for that of the
Emperor...."

The complexion of the Ambassador
had turned quite pale.

Holmes reached for the
Ambassador's hand, saying, "Fear not, we shall do all in our power
to prevent this." Holmes called out in Chinese and the door burst
open as the two body guards rushed in, each with a deadly looking
hatchet at the ready. These they quickly stowed in their silks on
seeing that their master was unharmed.

The Ambassador spoke quickly to
them, assuring them that all was well and turned once more to us.
"You must do what you can to prevent this, Holmes. A great deal is
at stake for both our countries."

Both men held each other’s gaze
and, with a respectful nod from Holmes, we took our leave. Outside
the museum we hailed a cab and returned in silence to Baker Street.
Once more in our rooms, the air soon attained a blue haze as we
both settled into our chairs with a pipe of tobacco.

Little was said for over half an
hour, each of us, I believe, turning over in our minds the words of
the Chinese ambassador. I broke the silence by asking Holmes how
likely he thought an attempt to steal the bell might be. Holmes
looked straight ahead and blew out a thin ribbon of blue smoke.

"I think, Watson, that the
Ambassador has accurate sources within London’s criminal classes
and what he says is likely to be true." Holmes turned towards me
and, rubbing his hands together, said, "We must prepare ourselves
and make arrangements to protect the bell." I blinked, unsure of
the implications of this statement!

The next day I awoke to find
Holmes already dressed and studying a blueprint, a floor plan of
the Victoria and Albert Museum. He had spread the blueprint on our
dining table and was busy annotating the plan with a pencil. I
wandered over to the table with a mind to discover what was
afoot.

"Are you planning our defences?"
I asked.

Holmes was tapping the pencil on
the plans and running his index finger along the various corridors
inside the museum. “Indeed, Watson. I am studying the layout of the
museum and the ways that intruders might enter the building and
reach the bell. The architects, in their wisdom, designed the
museum so that it would be well lit by natural light which, in
turn, means a plethora of windows.”

I looked at the plans,
observing, “It is not a bank Holmes!”

Holmes slammed the pencil down
on the table, shouting, “Precisely! The openness of the design is
an inherent weakness in its security.”

I could see there was a deal of
frustration mounting in Holmes and suggested that it might be time
for some tea. I rang the bell and asked Mrs Hudson to bring up a
breakfast tray for me and two cups.

Holmes strode across the room
and sat in his favourite armchair by the fireside. He drew his
knees to his chest and placed his hands together with the fingers
steepled against his lips. After a moment or two he spoke. “I'm
sorry, old fellow. I find this so damnably frustrating. If we were
to suggest moving the bell to a place of safety each evening, it
would reveal our hand and also greatly displease the Chinese.”

Holmes then sat back in his
chair with his eyes closed, his prodigious intellect focussed on
the task.

The tea arrived and whilst I
tucked into toast and home-made strawberry preserve, Holmes sipped
at his tea. It was clear that he continued to consider several
options, saying to himself, “We must make sure that the approach to
the bell is made as difficult as possible for any intruders."

I finished my breakfast and
wandered over to the floor plan of museum. During my service in
India, I had several times been present when the senior officers of
my regiment had planned defensive strategies for our headquarters.
"It seems to me, Holmes, that there are but two corridors that any
thieves might use to reach the bell. The main entrance is nearby
but is too secure to be a point of entry."

Holmes finished his tea and came
to stand by me at the table and I indicated the two corridors that
I had identified. Holmes nodded and tapped his forefinger on his
pursed lips. "What do you know about Chinese Imperial assassins,
Watson?"

For a moment I was dumbfounded.
"Well, probably as much as I know about the man in the moon!"

At this, Holmes roared with
laughter and patted me soundly on the back. "Then let me enlighten
you, old fellow.” Holmes reached for his pipe and then began to
give me a potted history of the rise of these feared fighters.

"In Japan, these secretive,
highly trained fighters are called Ninjas...although they did not
originate there. The name comes from the Chinese middle ages when
the forerunners of these assassins were called Yinja, in the
Chinese tongue, Kejia. The Chinese peasants referred to them as
forest demons, 'Lin Gwai'. They were the epitome of stealth and
brought with them death." Holmes’ face looked grim.

"The thieves we face are as
determined as they are deadly. I think we may have to involve
brother Mycroft, despite the ambassador's concerns." With that he
reached for his notebook and dashed off a cryptic telegram.

It was about mid-day when we
heard the sound of a Hansom draw up at the curb in the street
below. Holmes, I saw, was immediately alert. "Ah, I presume this to
be Mycroft."

A few moment later, the door to
our rooms opened and in swept Mycroft Holmes. He appeared to be
somewhat flustered as he struggled with the fastening for his cape.
Eventually, he was free of it and cast it to one side.

Mycroft, a man of few words when
speaking to his brother, came straight to the point. "What is this
about Sherlock? Your cryptic telegram did little to inform but
greatly alarmed me."

Holmes invited Mycroft to sit
and then proceeded to speedily and succinctly recount our meeting
with the Chinese ambassador.

Mycroft was silent for, perhaps,
thirty seconds. He seemed to be turning over the facts and at last
he spoke. "Yes… a very delicate situation, Sherlock. One, I think,
you must not get yourself involved in."

Holmes was outraged. "What? You
expect me to leave the Chinese ambassador in fear of his life
because of my inaction and my indiscretion? No! Mycroft. That will
not do! I cannot stand by and let this happen!" Holmes stood
towering over Mycroft, his fists clenched and his face scarlet.

Mycroft looked up at Holmes and
quietly said, "I'm afraid you must. You forget that the Victoria
and Albert Museum is a government building and, as such, its
security is the affair of the Crown."

Holmes’ fist crashed down onto
the dining table. "No! There is not only honour but lives at stake
here. I must be part of this!" Holmes started to pace in front of
the fireplace. I saw reason in what Mycroft had said but I also
understood Holmes’ position.

I felt the need to intervene,
saying, "From what you have said yourself, Holmes, the men who seek
to steal the bell are trained killers. What do you propose,
Mycroft?”

Mycroft turned towards me,
sensing that I might be something of an ally in this. "It will be
difficult, Watson, for I feel I cannot fully involve Her Majesty's
government." Glancing at Holmes, I could detect some small sign of
relief pass across his face.

Mycroft rubbed his chin. "To
guard the bell I think I may have to call in some markers from
Special Branch." Mycroft paused. "Sherlock, this is no longer
simply a personal matter. The relationship between two sovereign
states may be jeopardised. You must promise me that you will not
interfere in protecting the bell."