Sherlock Holmes in 2012: LORD OF DARKNESS RISING (4 page)

Irene was still in bed when she heard the phone ring on the night table. Groggy with sleep, “Hello,” she mumbled.

“Mycroft here, my dear, and I am terribly sorry to wake you at such an awful hour, but I believe Sherlock is in trouble.”

Irene sat up. “Did you say Sherlock is in trouble… how?”

“He’s been advising the CIA and FBI on the activities of an al Qaeda’s associate, a man by the name of Adnan Al Shukrijumah, and he has tracked him down to New York where Adnan was supposed to have planted a bomb in the Majestic Theatre on Broadway.”

Digesting all this rather quickly, Irene asked, “And did the authorities find the bomb?”

“No, my dear, unfortunately the FBI couldn’t find any trace of a device planted anywhere in the theatre.”

“And where is Sherlock now?”

“Still in the theatre, according to my contact at the CIA, waiting for the Adnan fellow to show up.”

“You mean Sherlock wants to confront this terrorist – on his own and unarmed? But that’s ludicrous. The man won’t hesitate to shoot to kill as soon as he sets eyes on Sherlock.”

“Exactly my point, my dear. And given that I can’t be in New York until the end of the day, I must impose upon you to go to the Majestic yourself, assess the situation and see if you can enter the premises to alert Sherlock of the impending danger.”

“But, Mycroft, he’s not going to accept to come out just on my say-so. You know how stubborn he can be…”

“I know, my dear, I know, but we’ve got to get him out before anything happens to him… and before the FBI decides they have enough of his meddling and arrest him on the spot for endangering national security or some such thing…”

“All right, Mycroft, I’ll take the train and be in touch as soon as I arrive at the theatre. Could I use this mobile phone you left with me to contact you… ?” Irene asked, still a bit shy of the technology.

“By all means, my dear, my number is already on the phone list of that mobile – all you have to do is lock on the number and ring me.”

“Very well then, I’m on my way.”

 

Some five hours later, Irene was climbing out of a taxi a couple of blocks away from the Majestic Theatre’s entrance. Dressed in a pair of slacks and sweater, comfortable coat and hood, and shod of warm boots, she walked down the side street and alleyway in search of the “stage door” or any loading dock that would give her discreet and unnoticed access to the inside of the building. Fortunately, there were lots of people around, all going about their business and unconcerned with Irene’s movements. When she found the loading dock in question, she went past it and continued down the alley until she found herself in a parallel street to Broadway. On the opposite corner she saw a coffee shop that seemed friendly enough from the outside, and decided it was high time to have a cup of tea and assess the situation from that vantage point – the coffee shop’s window affording her a clear view of the alley and the loading dock a ways down.

While she sipped on her tea and ate some pastries that tasted like sugary cardboard, Irene had plenty of time to notice the two men that walked the length of the alley at regular intervals.
These
two
are
watching
the
place,
she concluded. She needed a diversion – something that would direct their attention somewhere else while she would make her way to the loading dock (or the stage door) and enter the theatre unnoticed. Once she decided on the best plan of action, Irene exited the coffee shop, crossed the busy street and planted herself at the corner of the alley. She only had to wait for a couple of minutes until the next lorry turned into the lane way. Knowing that her two observers were busy talking at the other end of the alley, she ran behind the lorry until it reached the loading dock, where Irene veered right and ducked behind a large crate she had noticed on her first walk through. She stooped down for a few minutes and waited for the next truck to come along to run to the sliding door and behind another crate next to it. She crouched behind the box for another ten minutes until she heard another lorry make its way down the alley. As soon as the truck’s nose was in line with her crate she lunged against the sliding door, opened it a crack and rolled under it. She didn’t have time to slide it down, and waited to catch her breath. She then slithered behind the adjacent wall. She hoped the surveillance agents hadn’t seen the opening at the bottom of the sliding door – one false move now and it would be all over for her and Sherlock.

Once inside the theatre proper, while noticing that some of the dimmer lights were still on, Irene made her way to the stage, and stood in the middle of it. “All right, Sherlock Holmes,” she said in a voice that would have been heard from the rafters, “I am here, and I want to talk to you!” Being used to the theatre stages of Europe, Irene knew Sherlock would have heard her even if he were hiding in the farthest recess of the basement.

When she heard no reply, she decided to sing Sherlock’s favourite aria, knowing that he would have no doubt as to whom she was. As she was singing the last few bars, she saw the door of the lodge nearest to the stage open and Sherlock take a seat.

She finished singing, bowed to his applause and lifted her head to him. “And now that I am here, would you be so kind to explain to me why you would want to confront Mr. Adnan on your own.”

Sherlock exploded in a roar of laughter. “Bravo! Bravo, my dear! You are “
the
woman
” for whom I have but admiration. You have deduced correctly that the only way for me to stop this terrorist is to confront him – again, bravo, my dear!”

“I am sorry to disappoint you, Holmes, but you should give credit where credit is due. Mycroft and the FBI are the ones who deduced what you were intending to do.”

“If that is true, how is it that you are the one here, right now?”

“Why don’t you come down from your perch, Holmes, so that we could talk sensibly without using the top range of our vocal chords?”

“As you wish, milady, I will be down in a moment,” Sherlock replied, already out the lodge’s door.

Meeting Sherlock behind the stage-left curtains, Irene extended her right hand for him to kiss. As he did so and bowed slightly, she said, “You are an utter fool, Holmes!”

He raised his gaze and locked eyes with her. “Why would you say such a thing, milady?”

“Come and let’s find one of the actors’ dressing rooms to talk,” Irene replied. “This way… .” She preceded him down the steps behind the stage.

Soon she found a dressing room, walked in, turned on the glaring lights around the make-up table, looked around it and decided it was adequate for the privacy she wanted. After closing the door, they both sat down face to face on two rickety chairs standing about the room.

“All right, Holmes, just explain to me why you would want to confront a man the likes of this Adnan fellow alone, when you could have the whole of the FBI at your disposal to do the job for you?”

“Because, these idiots don’t have the faintest idea who they’re up against, and mind you, I don’t blame them; I have no proof of what I am advancing and they have found no evidence to support any of my claims. So, it is down to me to prove what I have been deducing since I arrived in August.”

“But, Holmes, don’t you see how foolish it is for you to stay here and lie in wait for someone who will not show up?”

“Why would you think that? Please tell me.”

“I don’t know if your journey through time has dulled your senses, but it is quite simple really.” Irene tittered.

Sherlock didn’t like to be mocked and it showed on his face. “Alright, I’ll allow you the amusement, but only because it’s you… .”

“Just listen to me and open your mind.” Sherlock nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “When no one saw you come out of this theatre last night, everyone concerned knew of your decision to confront this man, Adnan. At this very minute he’s probably observing the agents posted outside every door, such as I did before finding a way to come in here.”

“And if you were successful in avoiding scrutiny, he will, too – and that’s precisely what I wanted, my dear Miss Adler!”

At these words, the silence outside the dressing room was broken by the thunderous clapping of a set of hands. Not waiting to ascertain where the unexpected applause came from, Sherlock jumped off his chair, shot out of the room and hurried up the stairs and onto the stage. He came to a dead stop when he was suddenly blinded by the flood light in front of, and surrounding him. He put his arm across his brow to protect his eyes from the powerful glare.

Irene, realizing the clapping had come from the man they had been expecting, and suspecting what Adnan would probably do – such as focusing the white spot light onto Sherlock as soon as he showed on stage – she stayed out of sight behind the stage-left curtains.

“No need to hide, Madame, I know you’re in here,” Adnan said from his seat at the back of the floor seating. “And although I have not had the pleasure to make your acquaintance, I should thank you for showing me the easiest way to come in this theatre… , and for your interpretation of one of Verdi’s most famous arias.”

Irene stayed motionless and did not respond.

“Alright then, I’ll leave you in peace for now, but as for you, Mr. Holmes, you’ve been a thorn in my side since you arrived in the US in August.”

“Such as I hoped I would,” Sherlock retorted, while trying to walk away from under the light beam. He didn’t know that the light would follow him anywhere he went on stage – being electronically controlled at every step he took.

“Yes, I thought that’s why you stayed in this theatre last night.”

“Why don’t you show yourself, Mr. Adnan, so we could have a civilized conversation before you’re arrested and tried for your crimes.”

“And what crimes would those be, Mr. Holmes – those you invented based on information you gleaned through the internet? Do you really think that if I was to plant a bomb anywhere in New York, I would advertise my presence to all and sundry beforehand?”

“Yes, you would,” Sherlock shouted, “because you are a “two-step” thinker, Adnan – you always attempt to pre-empt the action of your opponent by thinking the way he does, and then do the exact opposite.”

“Ah-ah, I see you must be a chess player, and believe me I respect anyone who is an adept of the game.” It sounded as if the man got up from his seat. “And it’s unfortunate that we don’t have enough time at the moment to sit down for a game, but I have other appointments this morning that will no longer keep. So if you’ll excuse me, I shall take my leave now.”

The light suddenly went out, plunging the theatre in complete darkness.

All the while this was happening, Irene had taken Mycroft’s phone out of the inside pocket of her coat, had dialled the minister’s number and had pressed the “send” button. Then placing the phone on the floor just under the curtains’ border, she had made her way to the back of the floor seating and had posted herself near the dimmer switch closest to the door. She had known what Adman had planned and as soon as the stage lights were turned off, she hit the switch.

She then ran down the centre aisle, rounded the orchestra section and climbed the few steps separating the audience floor from the stage.

“Did you see his face?” were Holmes’s first words to her.

“Only a glimpse, Holmes,” she replied, going to retrieve Mycroft’s phone from under the curtains. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to recognize him if I ever saw him again, though,” she added, putting the phone to her ear. “Did you hear that?” she asked Mycroft who had been listening to the whole exchange between Holmes and Adnan.

Holmes was staring at her. She seemed to have had a far better and more immediate grasp of the situation than he had had.

“All right… yes… I will expect your call then,” she said before closing the phone and replacing it inside her pocket.

She lifted her gaze to Holmes. “Mycroft heard everything and he’ll be at the Hilton Hotel tonight. He’s expecting us for dinner.”

Baffled beyond words, Holmes looked at the diva standing before him.

She smiled and then said, “You need to open your eyes to what’s happening around you, Holmes. You might be the greatest detective that ever walked this Earth, but you are not giving the modern man his dues. If technology has evolved at such an incredible pace over the past 120 years, it’s only thanks to men and women’s evolving brains. You’re no longer talking to ignoramuses, Holmes, the people of this age can now match if not surpass your brain powers instantly.”

“A depressing thought indeed,” Sherlock said quietly.

“No, Holmes, not depressing at all. I would rather think it be challenging for a man the likes of you. You have now equal opponents and thousands of people who could be at your disposal to develop your intellect or make it accessible to all that would come after you.”

 Chapter Two

An
unexpected
hand
in
marriage

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