Doctor Who_ All-Consuming Fire - Andy Lane [40]
'Our Sovereign is a shrewd woman, Doctor Watson, and should not be underestimated. She is not blind to the domineering ambitions of Czar Nickolas I and Kaiser Wilhelm II, and she is also perfectly well aware that the Fenians pose a greater threat to the stability of the monarchy than the Anarchists.' He hesitated briefly, wondering, perhaps, how much to say.
'Her Majesty has for some time been distrustful of what her prime ministers have been telling her. She never had much respect for poor Gladstone. "He speaks to me as if I were a public meeting," she once told me, and has publicly questioned whether he is fit to lead her country. I must say,'
Mycroft added parenthetically, 'that I share her views. Not five years ago the Prime Minister proposed to the Cabinet that a Flotilla of the Royal Navy be sent to look for Atlantis!' He frowned. 'Where was I? Yes, some years ago Her Majesty decided to set up what, for want of a better word, might be called her own "intelligence organization". She, or rather, her advisors,' and Mycroft modestly cast his gaze downwards at this point, 'knew that it could not be funded from public money, lest the public protest at a secret organization in their midst. Approaches were made to the oldest and wealthiest families in the land. A cover was sought: an establishment above reproach through which this tiny band of patriots could operate.'
'And the Diogenes . . .?' I was aghast.
'...Is that establishment. Like an iceberg, Doctor Watson, nine-tenths of what goes on here is beneath the surface.'
'I had already deduced most of your story' Holmes said from the far side of the room. He had poured himself a cup of tea and was sprawled in his armchair. 'Indeed, I have been following your successes with some interest. It would seem that, wherever trouble exists in the world, a member of the Diogenes Club is not far away. I notice, in fact, that the ill-fated last voyage of the Fenians' submarine vessel coincided with the honeymoon in New Jersey of one Charles Beauregard, whom I have seen dining here on numerous occasions.'
'Very perceptive, Sherlock,' Mycroft said, clapping his hands together gently. 'Very perceptive. Now, I have been frank with you. Perhaps you could return the compliment.'
Holmes stared at his brother for a long moment.
'Perhaps we can trade information,' he said finally. 'Certain pieces of the puzzle still elude me.'
He steepled his hands together, lay back in his chair until his gaze was directed at the ceiling and sketched the bare bones of the matter for his brother. When he had finished and Mycroft had asked a few incisive questions, Holmes reached into his jacket and extracted the list of Library patrons which Mr Jehosephat Ambrose had provided us with.
Mycroft's eyes scanned the list, stopping at one particular name. He glanced up and locked gazes with Holmes. They shared a long moment of unspoken communion.
'An instructive list,' Mycroft said finally, returning it to Holmes. Even I could spot the ironic understatement in his voice - a tone directed, I was sure, at his brother. 'You have questioned both the Doctor and Mrs Prendersly, but only Mrs Prendersly is dead. If we take as our assumption that she was indeed murdered, it would follow that she possessed information that the Doctor did not, and was killed in case she might pass the information on. It would also follow that Professor Challenger is not our man.'
'How so?' Holmes challenged.
'Because he set sail for South America last week on one of his scientific expeditions.'
'He could be working as part of a gang,' I said.
'Unlikely,' Holmes snapped. 'Remember William of Occam's suggestion that one should not multiply logical entities without reason. No, for the moment we will assume that our man is working alone.'
'Is your Doctor a tall chap with a shock of white hair and a penchant for velvet smoking jackets?' Mycroft asked.
'No,' I said, mystified. 'Why?'
'There's a chap who I see down in the reading room sometimes, calls himself the Doctor. Thought it might be one and