Diamond Jubilee by Paul D. Schullery

Diamond Jubilee by Paul D. Schullery

Author:Paul D. Schullery
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sherlock holmes, mystery, crime, british crime, sherlock holmes fiction, sherlock holmes novel
ISBN: 9781787053687
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 2018-09-12T00:00:00+00:00


15. A Chaos of Conspirators

Once in the cab and on our way, I asked Holmes what he made of Mrs. Wakefield’s alarming warnings. “I hardly know enough specifics except the most important one: if she, of all people in the city, is alarmed, there is reason for all of us to be alarmed.”

“But this is London, Holmes. What could happen?”

“Surely you have not forgotten ten years ago, Watson,” he said, “and the so-called ‘Jubilee Plot’ that had the press in an uproar prior to that celebration?”

“Of course, but it evaporated, didn’t it? All that talk of some kind of reign of terror during the celebration, but nothing came of it. From what I remember, the Fenians could barely even get into the country, could they? The government - the police, I suppose - took appropriate notice. I assume they must have acted upon the threats and it all fell apart. No doubt some of the plotters were serious in their intentions, but the conspirators whom the police collared were locked up tight, and the Fenians were broken, or tore themselves apart with their usual in-fighting. Parnell is dead, and that other chap, too. There’s hardly been a peep about any of them in the papers for years.”

Holmes looked at me patiently. “It was much more involved and unresolved than that, Watson, and still is. But we are not concerned here with something as easily identified as Irish discontent, as distressing as that continues to be for all concerned.”

“You’re saying there are others? Other nations, or just other plotters?”

“Watson, no individual, political group, or nation has a monopoly on dynamite. Mrs. Wakefield tells us that there is unease scattered throughout the international community in London. ‘Something big,’ she said. As big as the Empire, perhaps?”

“But what are we to do this late in the game? I gather that Mrs. Wakefield’s resources are considerable, and if she hasn’t been able to learn what is going on, who can?”

“At least there I know where to start,” he said, then leaned out and called up to the driver, “Pardon me, but we must change direction - the Diogenes Club, please, in Pall Mall.” Then, settling back into the seat and speaking more to himself than to me, he frowned and added, “We should have heard something from Barber by now.”

The afternoon was wearing on by the time we reached Pall Mall and stopped in front of the odd little club to which Holmes’ older brother Mycroft belonged. Holmes’ movements were brisk, even hasty, as he led me up the steps, through the small door, and into the cramped and starkly inhospitable guest chamber that was as far into the sanctum of the club as non-members were allowed. It was also the only place in the club where spoken communication was permitted, though even there conversations were invariably conducted in whispers. The doorman told us that Mycroft was just then having a late luncheon, and after Holmes introduced himself and emphasised the urgency of the situation, the man reluctantly went to fetch the elder Holmes.



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