Free The Curse Of The Diogenes Club by Anna Lord

in the room that disturbed him the greatest. It was
the nefarious pirate with the queer weapons. With both
firearms trained his way, the man was a frightening sight to
behold.
    “Does your ADC always enter a
room with such bravado? Really, Mycroft, you should teach him to
knock?”
    Mycroft rolled his eyes. “Come
in Nash. Ignore my brother. What took you so long? I was expecting
you half an hour ago.”
    Major Nash was still gathering
his wits about him and it was impossible to tear his eyes away from
the bizarre-looking pirate, though the man had thankfully lowered
the twin flintlock firearms. So that was the famous Mr Sherlock
Holmes in one of his masterful disguises. The major would have
laughed but he still wasn’t sure what was going on.
    “How did you get away from the
tack room?” he asked straight up.
    “Child’s play!” said the
younger Mr Holmes. “Once the first bomb went off and the guards ran
to see what was happening I was able to loosen the bonds they used
to secure me to a post. They don’t teach men to tie proper knots
any more. And a hook is not a hand but a very handy tool.” He
demonstrated how the hook resting on the table simply sat inside
his sleeve. “It was easy to slip off the hook and loosen the knots.
Child’s play, as I said!”
    “May I look at your
firearms?”
    “No, you may not. You might
hurt yourself. They have been modified to fire darts. Some are
quite lethal. Curare. Others will simply put you to sleep for a
while.”
    “Stop showing off, Sherlock,”
reprimanded Mycroft. “I want to hear what Nash has to say. Has the
bomb man been apprehended?”
    “No, sir, I suspected the other
Mr Holmes.”
    Sherlock laughed richly before
switching to serious. “What was happening in the Copper Beech wood?
As I was being escorted to the stable I saw you and several others
heading that way. I believe it was Damery and Moriarty. Who else
was there?”
    “General de Merville, Prince
Sergei and Mr Blague.”
    “What were the six of you doing
by the lake?” pursued Mycroft tetchily.
    “Having a duel, sir.”
    “A duel!” laughed Sherlock,
clearly enjoying himself. “This is turning into a night to
remember! Last Night Forever, indeed! And who were the duellists,
Major Nash?”
    Major Nash winced. “Colonel
Moriarty and myself.”
    A tremolando in the Countess’s
normally confident tone betrayed how much she cared for the
Irishman. “Since you are here and in one piece, Major Nash, are we
to assume that Colonel Moriarty has been fatally wounded?”
    “No, the first bomb went off
just as we were preparing to fire. The colonel is currently
searching for the pirate.” He decided to change the subject lest
his emotions betray him. “How are you feeling, Dr Watson?”
    “Recovering slowly.”
    “Can you recall what caused you
to tumble down the stairs?”
    “Yes, I believe someone
deliberately tripped me. I was searching for you, Major Nash. I
thought the pirate looked fishy and I noticed Colonel Moriarty
rushing about as if he was up to no good. I wanted to report them
to you at once.”
    “You didn’t see who tripped
you?”
    Dr Watson shook his head
glumly. “I thought I recognized a face but the vision is hazy. It
may come back to me as the sedative wears off. I believe I have you
to thank for the medical attention and care I received whilst
recovering.”
    Nash grimaced at the undue
praise. He looked squarely at Mycroft. “I shirked my duty tonight,
sir. I ignored my orders. I abandoned my post. All I can say in my
defence is that at least the Prince of Wales is uninjured and the
casualties appear to be at a minimum.”
    Sherlock scratched an itch
behind the piratical eye-patch before replacing it. “Of course the
Prince of Wales is uninjured and the casualties minimal. The
intended target was my brother.”
    Shock was still coursing
through everyone’s veins and now here came a fresh wave. All eyes
turned to Sherlock.
    “Explain yourself,” said
Mycroft