Sherlock & The Illustrious Client 03
Jul. 31st, 2013 06:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
soledad_writesby Soledad
Author’s note: A few lines of dialogue are borrowed from “The Adventure of the Illustrious Client”.
Timeframe: After Sherlock’s return. John has been married to Mary for about a year and moved out of 221B Baker Street.
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CHAPTER 03 – THE AUSTRIAN MURDERER
September 4th 2014
“Actually, I’m pleased to find Doctor Watson with you, Mr Holmes,” Sir James remarked after the first cup of tea. “His collaboration may be very necessary, as we are dealing with a man to whom violence is familiar and who won’t be stopped by anything from reaching his goal. I’d dare to say that he’s the most dangerous man you’ve ever met.”
“I’ve had several opponents to whom that flattering title has been applied,” Sherlock said with a tight smile, quickly adopting the older man’s somewhat formal speech patterns.
“Your own brother, for starters,” John commented with a grin. Sherlock gave him a scathing look for the interruption before continuing.
“If your man is more dangerous than a certain James Moriarty – who, as you ought to know by now wasn’t a myth – or his right-hand man, Colonel Sebastian Moran, then he’s probably worth my time. So, who is he?”
“Have you ever heard of Baron Gruner?” Sir James asked. “He’s also known as Freiherr von Gruenewald among European nobility.”
Sherlock’s mobile brows rose to the roots of his unruly curls – a sure sign of his awakening interest. “You mean the infamous Austrian murderer?”
Sir James shook his head in amazement. “There’s no getting past you, Mr Holmes, is it? All the better! So you’re also certain about his guilt? You also think he’s a murderer? Despite him being spoken free?”
“Oh, please!” Sherlock scoffed. “It was a textbook case! Who could possibly have read the court reports and have any doubt about the man’s guilt? It was a mere technicality that his lawyers cleverly misused for his advantage that saved him.”
“That, and the suspicious and very convenient death of the key witness,” John commented dryly.
He had, of course, followed the trial in the media – who had not? It had been the biggest media spectacle since the trial of O.J. Simpson… with an equally dubious outcome. Just like Sherlock, John – and half the planet – was quite sure that Baron Gruner had, indeed, killed his wife when the so-called ‘accident’ happened in the Spenger Pass, as sure as if he’d seen the man do it with his own eyes. But since – unlike Sherlock – he didn’t have contacts to high society, nor any interest in reading the tabloids, he hadn’t known that Gruner had come to England.
“Interesting,” his friend was saying. “I knew that sooner or later he would find me some work to do. Well, what had Baron Gruner been up to? I hope it’s not the old murder case coming up again? I don’t accept cases that are already solved; and meting out his well-deserved punishment is the job of the courts, not mine.”
Sir James shook his head vigorously. “No, it’s more serious than that. To punish a crime is important, but to prevent one is even more so,” he sighed. “It’s a terrible thing, Mr. Holmes, to see an atrocious situation preparing itself before your eyes, to clearly understand where it will lead and yet to be unable to avert it. Can anyone be placed in a more trying position?”
“Perhaps not,” Sherlock replied slowly, his eyes darkening with recent memories.
Memories that John understood all too well, because had Sherlock not seen Moriarty’s devious plan unfold before his eyes and been unable to stop the madman in time? Had that helplessness not forced him into hiding for three years, breaking the hearts of everyone who cared for him, including John’s own?
By the way this case had been presented, John didn’t have the slightest doubt that Sherlock would accept it and mutely congratulated their visitor to the skilful method with which he’d already secured Sherlock’s cooperation… even if Sherlock himself might not realise it just yet. Clearly, Sir James’s reputation as a shrewd negotiator was a well-deserved one.
“Then you’ll certainly sympathise with the client in whose interest I’m acting,” Sir James continued, and Sherlock stiffened in his seat indignantly.
Uh-oh, John thought, this is a bit not good. Sherlock violently disliked being approached by mediators, which was one of the reasons why he was reluctant to accept any cases from Mycroft.
The other reason was Mycroft himself, of course.
“I wasn’t aware that you were just an intermediary,” Sherlock said stiffly, as if reading John’s thoughts. “Who is the actual client?”
Sir James squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. “I’m afraid I’m not at the liberty of discussing his identity, Mr Holmes. Let’s just say that his motives are entirely selfless and honourable, but he prefers to remain unknown. I’m sure you can accept his concern about his name being dragged into the matter?
John’s ears perked up in interest. The whole situation had an eerie resemblance to the one in Buckingham Palace, almost four years ago. The Equerry, whom Mycroft had simply addressed as ‘Harry’, had used very similar words when trying to get Sherlock on the case of The Woman, while making valiant efforts to keep the involvement of the royal family covered.
Could it be that once again the royals were involved in some way? This time it couldn’t be Her Majesty, though; Sir James had repeatedly said he. That, of course, left John with a number of possibilities, from the royal spouse through the sons down to the youngest generation; and that not counting any kin by marriage.
But what could the royals possibly have to do with the infamous Austrian aristocrat? John didn’t quite remember the name of the Baron’s murdered wife but he was fairly sure she’d been German. Or French. Or Italian. Something European, in any case. Not English.
So it had to be something else. Something really important. Something that could result in a scandal that wouldn’t let Buckingham Palace untouched, if the whole secrecy was any indication.
Suddenly John was very curious to learn more.
Unfortunately, he also knew Sherlock’s stubborn streak. The world’s only consulting detective took it as a personal affront if anyone tried to withhold information from him. The surest way to make Sherlock extremely uncooperative was not telling him the whole truth.
John wondered if Sir James was aware of that fact. If he knew Mycroft well enough, he should have been – in theory. But again, who aside Sherlock did really know Mycroft well enough?
“I’m sorry,” Sherlock said predictably. “I’m accustomed to have mystery at one end of my cases, but to have it at both ends is too confusing.(*) I’m afraid, Sir James, that I’ll have to decline.”
John had that weird déjá vu feeling again. These were almost exactly the words Sherlock had used to refuse taking Irene Adler’s case four years ago. The parallels were beyond eerie… and now he definitely wanted to know more.
“Er… Sherlock,” he said. “Perhaps Sir James could give us some of the bare facts before you’d reject the whole thing off-hand? You might find the case interesting, after all – and I wouldn’t have wasted my day off instead spending it with my wife.”
Sherlock gave him a look that – on the face of anyone else – would count as wounded. On his, it looked more like petulant. But he tended to back off nowadays if John played the guilt card – like now. After a moment he shrugged and turned back to Sir James.
“By all means, Sir James, do lay all that you can before us. As long as it’s understood that I won’t commit myself to anything just yet.”
“That’s understood,” Sir James shot John a look full of relief and gratitude. As if he’d been certain that once Sherlock had heard the details he’d take the case without hesitation. “For starters, I’m sure you’ve heard of General Merville?”
Sherlock stiffened in his seat again, and so did John this time, for that was a name that he, too, knew all too well. No-one who’d served in Her Majesty’s Army in the last thirty years or so could have remained ignorant. General Merville was the sort of brave soldier and exemplary officer whom his men would have followed to hell and back without a second thought.
Or without a first one, for that matter.
Now that he thought about it, wasn’t Merville related to the royal family somehow? Distantly enough that he wouldn’t count as actual family, perhaps through his late wife, but the mere fact still earned him even more respect among the fighting troops. What possible connection could he have with the Austrian murderer?
And, for that matter, what possible connection could he have to Sherlock, who was looking more tense and uncomfortable than he’d seen him for a long time.
Not since Mycroft had dragged him away to meet their mother, that is. A meeting John had been asked to attend as well and that had made Sherlock insufferable for weeks afterwards. Holmes family meetings always had that effect on him, which was why he so rarely attended to them.
“Yes, of course I’ve heard of him and you know that, so there’s no need for obfuscating,” Sherlock replied to Sir James impatiently. “What does he have to do with this?”
“Not him,” Sir James said. “His daughter, Violet. As I’m sure you know, Mr Holmes, she’s in her late twenties now; a rich, beautiful, accomplished girl, whom we’re endeavouring to save from the clutches of a murderer.”
Sherlock raised a curious eyebrow.
“Baron Gunner has some hold over her, then?” he asked with a definite hint of doubt in his voice.
That hint of doubt, however, went by Sir James completely unnoticed. Perhaps he was too occupied with his own concerns about the girl.
“The strongest of all holds where a young girl is concerned,” he said. “She had fallen for him completely. The man, as you surely have seen in the news reports, is quite good-looking, not to mention wealthy, with a self-confidence that is mind-blowing yet works amazingly well on women, and he can play the romance card, as young people like to call it, better than most. He’s said to have that effect on every woman he meets and make ample use of that effect.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “The crushing tedium of boring people with their boring emotions! But how came a man like Baron Gruner to meet someone of the standing of Violet Merville?”
“They met on a pleasure cruise on the Mediterranean,” Sir James explained with a sigh. “You heard of the latest voyage of the Aida, I presume. They have a very exclusive clientele... as a rule. I doubt that the promoters even recognised the Baron’s name until it was too late – the Aida was cruising the Pacific during his process in Vienna. And so that… that criminal had the chance to attach himself to poor Violet so successfully that he had her wrapped around his little finger by the end of the cruise. She’s obsessed with him. She won’t hear one word against him.”
“Hasn’t her father tried to separate them?” Sherlock asked.
Sir James nodded. “Oh, yes, everything has been done to cure the girl of her madness, but in vain. The best therapists have been hired to talk her out of this insanity, but to no end. The only result they’d reached was that she decided to marry him next month. And since she’s of age and stubborn like a mule, there’s practically no way to stop her.”
“No, I’m sure there isn’t,” Sherlock said in a tone that made John wonder if he knew the girl personally.
He wouldn’t put it beyond him; Sherlock knew the most unusual people and rarely spoke about them, unless a case required it.
“Does she know about the Austrian episode?” he then asked.
“Indeed,” Sir James said darkly. “That shrewd devil has told her every unsavoury scandal of his past life, but managed to twist the truth in a way that would show him in the role of an innocent martyr.”
“And she accepts his version?” Sherlock asked doubtfully.
“Unfortunately, she does,” Sir James sighed. “She does, and she won’t listen to anyone else.”
“I see,” Sherlock said. “You realise, of course, that you’ve accidentally revealed the name of your client. It’s General Merville, isn’t it?”
Sir James fidgeted in his chair again. “I could deceive you by saying so, Mr Holmes, but it wouldn’t be true. The truth is, Merville is a broken man. He’s been completely demoralised by this turn of events and is incapable of dealing with a brilliant, ruthless criminal like Gruner. No; my client is an old friend who’s known the General since military training and the girl since she was in her diapers. He can’t sit idly and watch this tragedy to happen without at least trying to stop it.”
“I can understand that… in theory at least,” Sherlock said. “Why me, though? How has my name come up?”
“There’s nothing Scotland Yard could do,” Sir James replied glumly. “My client has heard of your achievements, Mr Holmes, and it was his own suggestion that you should be called in; under the stipulation that he should not be personally involved in the matter. I don’t doubt that you could easily trace him back through me, but I must ask you to refrain from doing so.”
Sherlock gave him a tight smile. “I think that can be arranged,” he said. “Now that you’ve explained me the problem, I’ll look into it – although for different reasons than you might believe. Where can I reach you?”
“In the Carlton Club,” Sir James answered. “In case of emergency, though, you can simply call me on my phone; the one from which I texted you.”
Sherlock nodded. “Very well, I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got something. John, if you’d kindly see Sir James out…”
The request surprised John a bit, but he was used to Sherlock’s unusual requests and knew that they usually had a good reason. So he simply stood and escorted the grateful aristocrat out, wondering what did Sherlock know about the Mervilles that he wasn’t willing to share with their client.
Because John could definitely feel that there was something.
~TBC~
(*) Believe it or not, this statement comes from “The Adventure of the Illustrious Client”. Check it if you want.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-31 09:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-01 09:26 am (UTC)So far, I followed the original story rather closely. The big twist is just about to come. ;)