The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures - Mike Ashley [71]
“When he nodded, I released him. He straightened his coat as his two fellows collected themselves. Frowning at me, he seemed to be thinking ahead. He had to be sixty-five or seventy years old, I decided.
“ ‘I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Holmes,’ he finally said. ‘I believe we may have business to discuss. But not at the police station.’
“ ‘Exactly so,’ I told him. ‘Are you at liberty to speak for the whole Society, or must we report to your superiors?’
“ ‘Come with me.’ He dismissed the other two with a nod, turned, and led me to a quiet building on Harley Street. I had been there once before on business with the Foreign Office, but I showed no sign of surprise; indeed, this piece of the puzzle seemed to fit admirably well.
“He took me upstairs to see a rear admiral whose name I agreed not to divulge, and there the whole truth of the Secret Mendicant Society became apparent to me.”
I said, “They no longer work for Rome. They work for us.”
“Quite right, Watson,” Holmes said. “This rear admiral took me into their confidence, since they have a file on me and know I can be trusted. The organization of the Secret Mendicant Society was once quite remarkable, though it seems near its end. Their membership is small and, as far as I can tell, consists largely of septuagenarians or older. The times have changed so much that beggary is dying out; modern spies have much more efficient means of political espionage … for that is the current goal of the Secret Mendicant Society.”
“But what about the murders!” I exclaimed. “Surely not even the Foreign Office would – ”
“Not only would they, they did. Politics is becoming less and less a gentleman’s game, my dear Watson. For the security of our great country, nothing is above the law for them – laws that must govern the common man, such as you or I – or even poor Pendleton-Smythe.”
“So there is nothing you can do to help the colonel,” I said bitterly.
“The admiral and I rapidly reached an arrangement,” Holmes said, “when I explained what I had done with you and Lestrade. With Scotland Yard about to close in on the headquarters of the Amateur Mendicant Society, there was nothing he could do but agree with me that the Amateurs must be exposed. The publicity surrounding them will camouflage the activities of the real Secret Mendicant Society and allow Pendleton-Smythe the luxury of living out the rest of his days in peace. He, for one, never for an instant suspected the Secret Mendicant Society actually existed. That is his salvation.”
“But what of the new Amateur Mendicant Society? Surely they did not agree to surrender so blithely!”
“Indeed, they offered no objection, since with the exception of our client, they are all dead.” Holmes paused a second. “After I left Harley Street, I proceeded at once to the warehouse. There I found the proper building, knocked twice sharply, and pushed my way inside when the door opened a crack by a man dressed as a beggar.
“ ‘Here now – ’ he began. He pulled out a knife and pointed it at me. In earlier days he might have hurt or even killed me, but his reflexes had dulled with age. I caught his wrist, bent it back until he gave a moan of pain, and the knife fell to the floor with a clatter.
“ ‘We have no time for that,’ I told him. ‘The police have been summoned. You have ten minutes to gather your organization’s papers and vacate the building, or you will be captured and implicated in murder.’
“ ‘Who are you?’ he demanded, rubbing his arm.
“ ‘A friend. Now hurry!’
“He hesitated, looking to the two other men in the room: both were elderly, and both were dressed as gentlemen. They had been going over papers spread out on a table halfway across the room.
“ ‘This must be Mr Sherlock Holmes,’ one of them said.
“ ‘True,’ I said. ‘You now have nine