Jupiter Ascending
“It is as if you met a tram-car coming down a country lane. Mycroft has his rails and he runs on them… But that Mycroft should break out in this erratic fashion! A planet might as well leave its orbit…he remains the most indispensable man in the country.”
—Dr. John H. Watson, “The Bruce-Partington Plans.”
Mr. and Mrs. Sherlock Holmes signed the register of the Diogenes Club and without meeting a soul they walked directly to the Stranger’s Room. Mycroft rose up from his leather chair and extended his hands out to them.
“Mrs. Holmes, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I had the passage evacuated. Only Her Majesty is accorded such welcome.” He smiled. “I see you share Sherlock’s sense of humour.”
Irene raised her topper, bowed theatrically, handed him a wrapped package, and kissed both his cheeks. “Mr. Holmes, you and I share similar interests.” He opened the package and invited them to his table.
“Mycroft, we have serious business to attend to.”
“Please, Sherlock, breakfast first. Would you like tea with these lovely Napoleons or champagne?” he said.
“Champagne, of course.”
Holmes accepted a glass from his brother and they breakfasted on oysters and salmon.
“I hope this latest venture doesn’t interfere with your business, Sherlock.”
“Never better, brother mine.”
“Splendid!”
“Mycroft, the Priory Church murders—Watson and I uncovered two more suffragists all murdered similarly. Another attempt was thwarted by Rachel, and information from this arrest connects all five events. This is now wholesale murder and I believe one man holds the strings. At the same time, Scotland Yard has been given a directive to treat the suffragists brutally. Two separate sources have admitted this originates from someone much higher than the Chief Commissioner. I believe this violent milieu may arise from a single source who might want this progression of violence to happen, and may even have started it. It also may be a smokescreen for an altogether different state of affairs. What I want to know, brother mine, is will you help me put an end to it?”
“Astute deductions, Sherlock, I would say, your association with this exceptional woman has increased your abilities. Not diminished them, as you once proclaimed such attention would engender in you.” He smiled. “Madam, I salute you!” He raised his glass in a toast.
“Ah, Sherlock, there is no need for further worry about the shrieking furies. The Local Government Act will keep them busy for years. Oh, that the Fenians were so easily vanquished. Suffragist leaders have been offered positions such as they will gladly leave London to fulfil. After all, they have already won back the local vote. Let us see how they use it. Their organizational abilities will now be diverted elsewhere.” Mycroft smiled. “What I do know is that the House of Commons is not the top of this British pyramid.”
“Peerage or Royalty are involved?” said Irene.
“Sherlock, get rid of Watson, ole boy; your new partner will take London by storm.”
Holmes laughed, and put his arm around Irene, “Mycroft, she is doing that all by herself, have you not even read her reviews? I am the luckiest man on earth!”
“And you look it, Sherlock! Madam, I am so sorry to hear of your ‘close shave’ as you Americans quaintly put it. But life with Sherlock must needs involve danger.”
“Life with Sherlock is worth it.”
“Sherlock has always been worth it and I am glad to note I am not the only one to recognize this.”
Mycroft stood and offered a toast. “Good luck to you both. I hope this union fulfils all your wishes.” They drank to this. “I can see how happy you are, Sherlock, it’s quite disgusting. Yet, my sister, you are magnificent in that cutaway.” She touched her glass to his.
“Sherlock, I never thought I’d see you so besotted, though I completely understand how.” He patted Irene’s hand. “I like this better than those negative views you used to have. When I saw you pale and bleeding, braving the Channel on that flimsy river steamer, I thought it was the last I would see of you. But you’re back and strong, and married to this spectacular woman. Bravo, little brother!”
Sherlock Holmes stood and shook his brother’s hand, said, “Royals are not involved, yet I believe a nobleman has been placed at the highest level of this venture. He moves in circles which I have disdained to involve myself. To whom I have occasionally given service yet were beyond the reach of my contacts. But not to you my well-placed brother.” Holmes handed him an envelope. “You may find this interesting. It is a bit of gossip Irene and Rachel recently overheard at Lady Beryl’s tea.”
Mycroft opened and briefly observed the contents, nodded to his brother and kissed Irene’s hand. “Thank you, madam.” Taking his hat and umbrella he left the Stranger’s Room. At street level, his carriage flew on ahead.
Holmes and Irene returned to Briony Lodge. The Irregulars repeatedly rang her doorbell and pushed in past her maid. Holmes said, “Gentlemen Attention! Mrs. Holmes, please meet the Baker Street Irregulars.”
They doffed their caps, chuckled and snickered as she said, “Welcome to my home, gentlemen.”
“Wiggins, is Smith in place?”
“Yes, Mr. Holmes.”
He paid them, then exchanged Wiggins’ hat for his own. Quickly donned make-up, moustache, a seedy jacket and trousers he had left in his wife’s costume closet. After he had alerted Lestrade, he chased out to the object of their scrutiny, to begin his own waiting game.