Sherlock Holmes in 2012: LORD OF DARKNESS RISING (3 page)

Since his coat, he knew now, attracted attention, he decided to divest himself of the apparel and cap before leaving the taxi. He then walked down Broadway and looked upward at the buildings towering over the street. He recalled the photographs he had seen in some magazines before he had left 1890 and could hardly grasp the growth and changes that had taken place in the last 120 years.
Phenomenal,
he thought. He approached the Majestic from across the street and watched the officers pace the pavement by the building’s entrance.

Inside the theatre, FBI Agent Michael Ashford was directing the operation “Recovery” – the name given to the case – from one of the upper balconies surmounting the majority of the audience seating. He was observing nearly a hundred agents that were examining every seat one by one below him, and couldn’t help but think this was all a waste of time. If (and that was a BIG IF) Adnan had been stupid enough to plant a bomb two nights ago – ready to be detonated in four days hence – he would not have shown himself the way he did.
I
mean
why
would
a
guy,
in
hiding,
start
teasing
the
authorities
at
the
very
moment
he’d
need
to
be
the
most
invisible?
A question to which Ashford had no answer. He was still lost in thought when he felt someone tap on his shoulder. Ashford turned around to find himself face to face with Sherlock.

“How did you get in here?” Ashford burst out.

Sherlock snickered, “Through the back door, as every actor should, Agent Ashford.”

“Why are you here?
Just
tell
me
that
and
then
get
out
!” Ashford shouted.

“Don’t yell, Agent Ashford – you’re liable to detonate Adnan’s bomb with the reverberation of your voice around this place. Did you know that you could hear a pin drop on stage from this vantage seat?”

“Enough, Sherlock! You tell me what you’re doing here…”

“I heard you, and I believe I told you what you wanted to know.”

“You didn’t tell me anything…”

“Yes, Ashford, I did, but you didn’t listen and you didn’t observe.”

“Okay, enough games. You’re here because you know there’s a bomb in this theatre and you’re hoping to find it before it explodes, killing 1600 people in 48 hours – am I close?”

“Yes, close but not close enough!”

“What else is there?”

“Two things you or Weisberg haven’t considered.”

“And what are those?”

“First, you have no idea what type of radiological bomb you’re dealing with – correct?”

“Well, there not many of those, as far as I know. And once we’ve located it, our expert will be able to tell us what we’re dealing with.”

“Good! But then there’s the second item which I believe you have set aside.”

“Okay, go ahead – I’m all ears.” The sneer in Ashford’s voice was unmistakable.

“You remember the meeting in August, to which my brother Mycroft was invited?”

“Sure, I read the report, yes. And by the way, the minister has yet to acknowledge your relationship. But do go on.”

“What I said then is that the 2005 bombing of the London underground hadn’t killed enough people – do you recall my saying that?”

“Yes, I do, which begs the question: how many does Adnan need?”

“As many as he can get – that’s the answer, Agent Ashford.”

“So, what you’re saying is that Adnan has placed more than one bomb – or one in each of the theatres lining Broadway?”

“No, Agent Ashford. Just think of this one device, being placed at the heart of Manhattan in a theatre located on the longest stretch of road in New York and tell me what you need to find.”

“A biological weapon of unsurpassed capacity – capable of killing the hundreds of thousands of people working or living in and around Broadway – is that it?”

“I’m afraid so. And if I were you, instead of looking under the seats, I’d look into the ventilation system of this place, where Adnan could hope for the fastest and deadliest propagation of whatever virus he would release in 48 hours.”

Ashford got out of his seat in a bound and rushed through the side door, leaving Sherlock smiling with satisfaction. He knew these FBI agents were extremely thorough and if there was a bomb in this theatre they would find it.

Two minutes later Ashford came through the side door again and sat down beside Sherlock. “Okay… , now tell me what you meant by “like every actor should” when you talked about coming through the back door?”

“Ah,” Sherlock chortled, “I’m glad to see you’ve got your wits about you, Ashford.”

“Okay, okay, just let’s have it.”

“Well, simple, my dear fellow; I came through the back door as every actor did two nights ago and as they will in 48 hours. And Adnan will need to come in to detonate his bomb at that time – as every good actor should…”

“And that will give us an opportunity to nab him, is that it?”

“Yes,
by
George,
I
think
you’ve
got
it!
” Sherlock exclaimed, getting up from his seat and making his way to the back door of the balcony.

Ashford looked after him, smiled to himself and returned to his watching the few men left down on the floor – those who were still combing the aisles.

Hours later – nearly 3:00 AM by Ashford’s wristwatch – the search of the Majestic Theatre had come up empty! On the one hand, Ashford was glad that no bomb had been found on the premises, yet, on the other, he was worried that Adnan had placed his device in some other theatre or even in one among the hundreds of buildings lining Broadway. Once the Majestic had returned to its ghostly tranquillity in the hours preceding sunrise, Ashford had made his way home, and as soon as he had reached his living room, he had taken his cell phone out of his pocket to call Denver in Washington with the news.

“
That
does
it!
” Denver exploded over the line. “As soon as I put my hands on him, I’m gonna slap the cuffs on him and send him to Guantanamo for a spell and see how he likes it.”

“Hold on, sir, maybe Mr. Holmes was right insofar as
The
Mouse
Trap
and the bomb connection was concerned – maybe the bomb is to be installed on Saturday…”

“Can you explain what you mean by that?”

“Well, sir, if Adnan made it so obvious to show himself at the Preview, maybe he wanted us to search the theatre and come up empty so that he could see his way clear to plant the bomb whenever he likes after we’ve left the theatre.”

“That’s a thought – yes, that’s probably what he’s got planned – but, and again, we’ve been chasing our tails with no evidence to show for our troubles.” Denver paused. “Okay, keep the Majestic under surveillance for now – and I mean no one in or out of the place until Saturday – do you hear me?”

“What about the people who work on preparing the sets and that kind of stuff?”

“
When
I
said
no
one,
I
meant
no
one
,
Ashford!
” Denver was shouting again.

“Okay, I’ll keep you posted.”

“You do that!”

Since there was no train that would get him back to Washington the next morning, Sherlock decided to stick around New York and remain hidden in the theatre until the FBI found the bomb. When everyone seemed to be packing up and Sherlock saw that practically all of the agents had reported finding no device of any kind anywhere in the building or in its ventilation system, he slumped to the floor of the darkened basement and waited until the quietness of the night had enveloped the theatre once again.

He had made a mistake somewhere – but where? He had been so sure the bomb had been planted when Adnan attended the play. And that assumption had proven wrong. There was no device hidden anywhere in this theatre at this point in time.

“I was an idiot!” he blared into the silence. “Why didn’t I understand this before? This has been a cat and mouse game from the beginning and Adnan wouldn’t have changed his modus operandi just to please me!” Still mumbling to himself, Sherlock began pacing the floor of the basement. “He wanted me to think and act exactly the way I did. There wasn’t to be any bomb in this theatre 48 hours before the play – the man needed a free hand to plant his device
after
everyone had concluded there wasn’t any bomb anywhere, so that he could come in as he pleased between now and Saturday to hide it.”

Now that he had concluded that Adnan would return to the theatre well before the curtain rose on Saturday night, Sherlock wanted to stay hidden in the Majestic’s basement – or any place suitable within the premises – until he would observe Adnan come in.

Outside, already several FBI agents were at their posts. They would switch positions and change shifts every few hours. This elaborate deployment of FBI forces and the cost involved began to worry Weisberg. The CIA could not lend a hand since they had no mandate to act within the US borders. Moreover, and perhaps more importantly, this whole operation had been mounted on the back of one man’s word – with no proof of any action being planned in this regard, according to their intel sources.

It was 4:00 AM when Weisberg decided to call Mycroft and give the minister a low-down on the events that had occurred in the last 12 hours.

“Agent Weisberg of the CIA is on the line for you, Mr. Minister,” Yves said on the intercom.

“Put him through,” Mycroft replied distractedly. It was 9:00 AM in London and he had been at his desk for nearly two hours already.

“Mr. Minister, good morning, sir,” Weisberg began, “I have some good news and some bad ones – which would you like to hear first?”

“Just tell me – what has Sherlock been up to now,” Mycroft said, leaning back in his seat, expecting the worst.

“Well, sir, we had traced Adnan in New York as you know, and then, upon Mr. Holmes’s advice, we searched the Majestic Theatre on Broadway for a bombing device and came out empty handed… .”

“And I suppose that’s the good news?”

“Yes it is, sir.”

“So what’s the bad news?”

“Sherlock hasn’t returned to his hotel in Washington and he hasn’t been seen come out of the Majestic since the FBI closed it down last night.”

Mycroft harrumphed his displeasure. “Are you saying he’s still in the theatre?”

“Yes, sir, that’s what we have to conclude.”

“And why would he be staying inside an empty theatre?”

“The FBI believes he’s waiting for Adnan to come in with the device…”

“Do you realize what that means?” Mycroft blurted in disbelief.

“I’m afraid I do, sir. It means he’s going for a personal confrontation with one of the most wanted men in the world.”

Outwardly calm – keeping that stiff upper lip and all that – Mycroft said, “Alright, Agent Weisberg, I’ll be on the first available flight to New York and will advise you of my arrival time as soon as I know myself.”

“Yes, sir…”

“In the meantime, I suggest you get your FBI colleagues out of sight and away from the theatre this morning so that Sherlock would feel more comfortable leaving the building if he so chose.”

“That’s a tall order, Minister, since we suspect that Adnan will still make a move to enter the premises before Saturday.”

“I don’t care if it’s a tall order or not, Weisberg, just clear the way for Sherlock to get out or for Adnan to get in that theatre – otherwise you’ll find yourself chasing two rabbits and catching none.”

Snapping his cell phone closed, Weisberg was in two minds whether to take Mycroft’s advice and ask Denver to pull the surveillance team out of Broadway. He opted not to talk to Denver and leave his colleague to do what he thought was best.

As soon as Mycroft hung up from talking to Weisberg, he took his mobile phone out of his pocket and called Irene’s number in Washington.