Young Sherlock Holmes_ Red Leech - Andrew Lane [10]
‘It is,’ Crowe acknowledged. ‘An’ Texas was part of the Confederacy durin’ the War. But just because I was born in Texas doesn’t mean I automatically support anythin’ they do. A man has the right to make his own decisions, based on a higher moral code.’ He grimaced inadvertently. ‘I find slavery . . . distasteful. I don’t believe that one man is inferior to another man because of the colour of his skin. I may think that other things make a man inferior, includin’ his ability to think rationally, but not somethin’ as arbitrary as the colour of his skin.’
‘Of course, the Confederacy would argue,’ Mycroft said smoothly, ‘that the colour of a man’s skin is an indication of his ability to think rationally’
‘If you want to establish a man’s intelligence, you talk to him,’ Crowe scoffed. ‘Skin colour ain’t got a thing to do with it. Some of the most intelligent men I’ve ever talked to have been black, and some of the stupidest have been white.’
‘So you went to the Union?’ Sherlock asked, eager to get back to Crowe’s fascinating and unexpected history.
Crowe glanced at Mycroft, who shook his head slightly. ‘Let’s just say I stayed in the Confederacy but I worked for the Union.’
‘A spy?’ Sherlock breathed.
‘An agent,’ Mycroft corrected gently.
‘Isn’t that . . . unethical?’
‘Let’s not get into a discussion of ethics, otherwise we’ll be here all day. Let’s just accept that governments use agents all the time.’
Something that Mycroft had said finally percolated through Sherlock’s mind and sparked a response. ‘You said that the Pinkerton Agency asked you to tell Mr Crowe about John St Helen. That means –’ he felt a wash of emotion flood across him – ‘that you didn’t come here to see me. You came to see him.’
‘I came to see you both,’ Mycroft said gently. ‘One of the defining characteristics of the adult world is that decisions are rarely made on the basis of one factor. Adults do things for several reasons at once. You need to understand that, Sherlock. Life is not a simple thing.’
‘It should be,’ Sherlock said rebelliously. ‘Things are either right or they are wrong.’
Mycroft smiled. ‘Don’t ever try for the Diplomatic Service,’ he said.
Crowe shifted from foot to foot. He seemed uneasy to Sherlock. ‘Where does this St Helen fellow live?’ he asked.
Mycroft took a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and consulted it. ‘He apparently has taken a house in Godalming, on the Guildford Road. The name of the house is –’ he checked the paper again – ‘Shenandoah, which might be indicative or might just be a coincidence.’ He paused. ‘What do you intend doing?’
‘Investigatin’,’ Crowe said. ‘That’s why I’m here. ‘Course, I’ll have to be particular about how I go about it. A big American like me is likely to be spotted pretty quickly’
‘Then be subtle,’ Mycroft warned, ‘and please do not try to take justice on to yourself. There are laws in this country, and I would hate to see you hanged for murder.’ He sniffed. ‘I dislike irony. I find it upsets my digestion.’
‘I could help,’ Sherlock said abruptly, surprising himself. The thought appeared to have gone straight from his brain to his mouth without engaging his reason.
The two men stared at him in surprise.
‘Under no circumstances,’ Mycroft said sternly.
‘Absolutely not,’ Crowe snapped, overlapping My-croft’s words.
‘But I can just ride into Godalming and ask questions,’ Sherlock persisted. ‘Nobody will notice me. And haven’t I shown that I can do that kind of thing with the Baron Maupertuis business?’
‘That was different,’ Mycroft pointed out. ‘You became involved by accident, and most of the danger to you occurred while Mr Crowe here was attempting to disentangle you.’ He paused, considering. ‘Father would never forgive me if I let any harm come to you, Sherlock,’ he said in a quieter voice.
Sherlock felt aggrieved at the description of his actions against Baron Maupertuis, which he felt ignored or distorted several important points, but he