Free The Memoirs of Irene Adler: The Irene Adler Trilogy by San Cassimally Page B

everything in its power to find the baby and promised that before sunset she would be safely returned to her parents.
    He then sought the advice of Mr W.T. Stead, the editor of
The Pall Mall Gazette
, and a good friend. The latter had a very jaundiced view of Labalmondière and expressed doubt over his ability or intention to do anything useful. The man, he said, had become Assistant Commissioner because Sir William Harcourt—the Home Secretary— thought that a Lieutenant Colonel was well-qualified to take up that post. Why, he asked, didn’t people understand that his progression in the army was only because of his Eton and Sandhurst connections, which, in turn, he owes to his father’s exploitation of slaves in the Caribbean. ‘And the division chiefs,’ Stead added, ‘would never embark on any initiative unless they felt certain that the boss would approve.’ It was also Algernon’s friend’s belief that the Lieutenant Colonel thought that the main duty of the police was to see that no matter what they may be up to, no mud sticks on the ruling class.
    ‘No, I am afraid the police won’t do anything for your poor cousin, my dear Algernon.’
    ‘So what did he advise?’
    ‘Jeremiah Minahan,’ Stead said. ‘Go and see him. He is a dogged and resourceful investigator.’ And he had talked at some length about the man.
    ‘Or again, try Sherlock Holmes. He is an eccentric, but he is astute and one hundred percent trustworthy.’ Clarihoe, who was aware of the reputation of the latter, had then taken a cab to Baker Street where Mr Holmes received him with courteous formality. He suspected that the detective knew of, and disapproved of his homophile tendency, but he listened carefully all the same. His view was that there was one obvious cause for a kidnapping: ransom.
    ‘I am sorry to disappoint you, Lord Clarihoe,’ Holmes added, ‘I’d visit Putney and interview the hapless nurse and your cousins if there was any point, but I can’t see that this would help locate the stolen child. It’s like trying to locate a cricket which had lost its song in a wheat field. Well-nigh impossible.’
    ‘So you can’t help?’ Algernon had said hardly disguising his contempt.
    ‘I didn’t say that,’ said Holmes taking no offence. He had then elaborated. When the parents receive the ransom note - and he believed that they would - he wanted to see it immediately. If he was outside London Dr Watson should be contacted. He would send him a telegram and he would come back post-haste.
    ‘I vouchsafe that I would get both of them.’
    ‘Beg your pardon, Mr Holmes, there’s only one baby,’ Algernon had said rather foolishly, but the man was suffering from sleep deprivation and shock.
    ‘The baby and the villain.’ The detective said. Algernon had been most heartened. Indubitably that was going to be the likeliest outcome, but recalling what Armande had said he had started losing his composure.
    ‘We must go see Minahan,’ he told us with great determination.
    Stead had said that the man was a thorn in Labalmondière’s side. He was something of a zealot, a deeply religious and fearless man. His one obsession in life was bringing to justice those evil men and women who stole children to commit immoral acts on them.
    ‘I am going to visit him.’
    ‘Oh but you must take Irene with you, two ’eads are better zan one, you know.’ Algernon looked at me blandly, then with admiration at Armande.
    ‘Armande, you’re right, it’s not just apple tarts you’re good at.’ Then he looked at me opening his eyes wide.
    ‘Yes sure, I’d like that. If I can assist in any way.’
    ‘I’ll leave now and will arrange it.’
    This was to be the start of a harmonious working partnership.

    ‘Ebenezer the coachman is waiting outside, be ready as soon as you can,’ Algernon said as soon as he came in next morning. I went to get ready.
    ‘Uverdale Road,’ he instructed Ebenezer the moustachioed cocher who, for years, had