Sherlock Holmes in 2012: TIMELESS DUEL (3 page)

“No, sir!” Wells interrupted abruptly once again. “Perhaps in the near future.”

“Be sure to let us know, Professor.”

“Yes, of course. Now, I am afraid I must cut our conversation short, Mr. Sigismund, and bid you a very good day.”

“All right then, Professor. Good day to you.”

When Wells replaced the ear-piece on the hook, he was perspiring. He shook his head, returned to his desk and sat down again. He had obtained the information he wanted but it would be two whole days before he would be able to talk to Irene Adler. The prospect of having to wait that long was intolerable. In the meantime, someone, probably his friend, Dr. Watson, would have discovered the detective’s absence and might have deduced that Holmes had come for a visit by himself-such as he had promised to do yesterday. However, if the doctor came by to find his friend, he would probably ask to see the time machine, which would be of no great problem since the second machine was still in the other house and no one was yet aware of its existence. Wells was silently grateful that he had duplicated the machine and that the replica was also in perfect working order.

He shook his head again and decided to locate Irene Adler’s residence before she was due to return to London. The location of her residence was a well-guarded secret apparently, but Wells had been an avid opera buff for a long time and had collected an array of information regarding the tenors or sopranos he admired. He knew Irene Adler had sung several operatic duets with a tenor by the name of Jean de Reszke. If by good fortune, the man was in London at this time-he was a favorite among the members of the royal family-he would certainly be able to tell him where Miss Adler resided.

When Wells telephoned Jean de Reszke, he learned that the tenor was also waiting for Irene Adler to return to London. During their short conversation, de Reszke didn’t hide the fact that he had been invited to Irene’s residence in Chelsea for a welcome-home party the following Saturday. Upon replacing the ear-piece once again on its hook,

Wells went directly to his rooms upstairs, changed in more appropriate attire, took his hat and cane from the portmanteau in the hallway and closed the door of his house securely before making his way to the main road where he hailed a cab. Aboard the hansom, Wells took a small loose-leaf note book out of his pocket and wrote a few words on a piece of paper. He folded the note and placed it in another pocket of his jacket.

Irene’s house backed onto the Physic Garden of Chelsea. It was not a grandiose mansion by any means but one that suited the discreet and often reserved character of the acclaimed operatic diva. Wells climbed the few steps separating him from the footpath and the front porch, and pounded the brass knocker a couple or three times against the door. A few seconds later, a young lady dressed in black skirts, blouse, white apron and bonnet opened the door wide.

Somewhat taken aback, the woman looked at Wells up and down before she said, “Good morning, sir. May I be of some assistance?”

“Yes, my dear, I believe you could. My name is Mr. Wells, and I only wish to leave a note for your mistress.”

“Miss Adler is not home, sir. But if you would like to leave your correspondence with me, I will make sure my mistress gets it when she returns.”

“Very well then..” Wells took the note out of his pocket and handed it to the young lady, saying, “Here it is, my dear. And you may tell your mistress that she may contact me on the telephone at her earliest opportunity-my telephone number is written on the note.”

After a discreet curtsy and closing the door upon Wells, the parlor maid placed the folded note on the plate on the credenza below the mirror in the corridor. She was about to make her way up the stairs, when she recalled something about the man’s name. She turned around and took the note. She unfolded it and quickly read the signature: H. G. Wells. She put her hands to her mouth preventing a gasp from escaping it.

“Maria, Maria,” she then hollered down the hall, rushing toward the kitchen.

“What is it, Cynthia?” Maria asked, raising her head from her task. “Why would you need to holler in an empty house-what could possibly be the matter now.?”

“But you know, the man., the professor.,” Cynthia replied, panting.

“What professor.? Have you admitted someone into this house.?”

“No-no, Maria, I would not, you know that.”

“Well then, what is it? Come now, girl, what has you so ruffled?”

“It’s the article in the paper-the one you showed me two days ago.”

“Yes., what of it?”

“It was that same professor with the time machine., he was at the door., and he left a note for Miss Adler. I am very sure it was him, Maria. I even looked at the note.”

“You did what?” Maria shouted in dismay. No one in
her household
would be permitted to open any of the post addressed to their mistress. “How could you?” she asked in outrage.

“But it was not in an envelope or sealed, Maria. It is just a folded piece of paper.”

“No matter what it is; I don’t want this sort of thing happening ever again-do you understand me?” Maria concluded sternly.

Cynthia bowed her head and exited the kitchen without a word. She climbed the stairs and went to finish her ironing of the fresh bedding that she was preparing for Miss Adler’s return.

When Wells arrived home, he went to his study directly. He unbuttoned his jacket and sat at his desk, intent written across his face. He was not a patient man, and waiting for Irene Adler’s return promised to be an ordeal in disguise. Nonetheless, he began the task of extrapolating the current events in the hope that they would lead him to a date at which Holmes would have traveled. A couple of hours later, his housekeeper knocked on the opened door and told him that his tea was ready in the lounge room. He hardly lifted his gaze to her and groaned a “thank you” reluctantly. Used to this sort of lack of acknowledgement on the part of her employer, Mrs. Cartridge spun on her heels and went back to the kitchen to have her tea and read the paper.

A few minutes later she heard Wells making his way to the lounge room and exhaled a breath, relieved to hear that the man was getting some sustenance after all.

When Wells heard the telephone ring, he practically jumped out of his chair. He had spent the last two days writing ciphered notes in his books and was totally absorbed in the task when the jingle of the telephone interrupted him. He got up, went to the device and unhooked the ear-piece with a trembling hand. Unsure who the caller could be, he heard the operator’s voice announce that Miss Irene Adler was on the line.

“Hello., hello., Miss Adler?” he replied more nervous than ever.

“Ah, Mr. Wells. Thank you for taking my call,” Irene said in a steady voice. “I must first tell you that it was a great surprise to hear that you had taken the time to come to my home and leave a note for me.” Irene paused. “However, since you did not explain the reason for your request such as calling you upon my return, I am very curious to learn what the matter could be.”

“Let me first say that I am very grateful that you responded to my calling upon you.” Wells paused in his turn. “I am in desperate need of your assistance, Miss Adler.. “

“My assistance, you say? What assistance could I possibly provide you, Mr. Wells? You have aroused my curiosity, indeed; so do tell me what you expect of me.”

“I could not possibly explain what is currently happening or what my request entails over the telephone, Miss Adler. But if you could spare the time, it is most urgent that I speak with you.”

“Very well then. Although I am still tired from all that traveling, I am so curious to know what this is about, that I will make my way to your residence in the next hour-if that is convenient for you, of course.”

“Oh, it is, Miss Adler, and you cannot imagine how grateful I am for your assistance already.”

“But I have not said that I will assist you in any way, shape or form, Mr. Wells. Nonetheless, I am most intrigued by your request and will be at your door as soon as I am able to make my way to your residence-that is if you would be so kind to give me your address.”

Wells promptly explained where he lived and, after a few parting words, hung up the ear-piece back on its hook.

He regained his seat, quite shaken.

A couple of hours later, Mrs. Cartridge opened the front door to Irene Adler. She was dressed in an elegant but simple moiré gown, trimmed of embroidered bouquets of white flowers. She wore a fashionable hat, pinned over tresses and locks of dark hair encircling her intelligent face.

“Mr. Wells is expecting me. I am Miss Irene Adler,” she said, stepping inside the foyer as Mrs. Cartridge open the door wider.

“Yes, Miss Adler, indeed he has, indeed he has,” the housekeeper replied somewhat reproachfully. “Please follow me. He will see you in his study.”

“Thank you,” Irene said, making her way down the corridor behind Mrs. Cartridge.

As the housekeeper opened the door of the study, Wells got up from his seat in a bound and went to Irene, extending a hand for her to shake. “Miss Adler, so good of you tocome so soon after your return from Europe. Please dosit down,” Wells added, after shaking hands with her and indicating a seat near the window. Then turning to Mrs. Cartridge, “Would you mind bringing us a tray of tea and wafers perhaps, my dear?”

“Very well, sir,” Mrs. Cartridge said, closing the door behind her.

Irene sat down and so did Wells, opposite his guest, in the other high-back chair.

“Well, now, Mr. Wells, let me not waste your time or mine; you have reportedly constructed a time machine, which invention has been described in the newspapers of Europe and those across the British Empire. By all accounts, you are preparing a voyage in time-presumably the past, if the reports are to be believed-and I have to wonder what would any assistance of mine entail, given these extraordinary circumstances?”

Once again, Irene Adler had proven to Wells that she was in fact the astute woman, he had suspected she was. Her mind was as sharp as that of the cleverest of men, he had to admit.

He smiled tentatively. “You have deduced correctly, Miss Adler that the assistance I would require of you has to do with my time machine.”

“Does it now?” Irene said, lifting an eyebrow. “I must repeat that, although I have read of your exploit in constructing a time machine, I cannot see where I could be of assistance in this regard.”

“Yes, yes, of course., you could not possibly have foreseen the events that followed the announcement of my invention.” Wells knew he had to come to the point. “Equally true is the fact that Mr. Sherlock Holmes came to my home three days ago.”

“Did he indeed?” Irene asked, visibly surprised.

“Yes, he did, Miss Adler, but at the time of his visit, and for reasons of my own, I refused him access to the machine.”

“Where is the machine stored?” Irene interrupted impatiently now.

“In a disused house at the back of my property.”

“Are you telling me that Sherlock has taken your machine and has disappeared with it?”

Wells’s mouth fell open-agape. He was taken aback by the fact that Irene had already deduced what the problem was.

“Yes, Miss Adler; that’s exactly what happened. Mr. Holmes came back during the night that followed our meeting and if my deductions are correct, he has chosen to travel in the future-the date he chose, or the location of his landing, are still unknown to me.”

“I must admit, Mr. Wells, this must be of great concern to you, but what do you expect me to do, in any event? I could perhaps tell you the place where Sherlock may have landed, and possibly arrive at some extrapolating conclusion as to the date of his arrival, but how else could you expect me to help you?”

“I noted that you have not asked me how I knew that Mr. Holmes traveled in the future and not the past.”

“Simple, Mr. Wells, if the reports are correct, they made several mentions of traveling into the past to correct our mistakes-or some such things-but none mentioned the machine being capable of transporting one into the future. And knowing Sherlock the way I do, he would not have been interested in the slightest in any travel into the past. He would have come to visit you for two purposes only; one, to know where the time machine was stored, and two, to confirm what he suspected, which is the machine being capable to travel into the future.”

Wells shook his head and smiled. “Those were his concerns exactly, Miss Adler.”

“Yes., so I thought. What’s more, given the fact that you refused him access, he had to find out for himself if he could use the machine-without your assistance.”

“And he did indeed, Miss Adler.” Wells shook his head ruefully.

“All right then, since we have described the problem, I must iterate my question; how do you expect me to help you?”

Wells lowered his head. “Would you be prepared to travel to the future and bring him back?” he mumbled.

It was Irene’s turn to stare. “Did I hear you correctly? You want me to chase Sherlock into the future and bring him back to this date? How marvelously intriguing-and fantastic-if I may say so!” Irene exclaimed, all smiles. “But that would imply that you have a second time machine at my disposal, would it not?”

Wells nodded.

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