The Autobiography of Mycroft Holmes

Chapter 38: Deliverance

About three months later, I received a call from Sherlock Holmes telling me that she wanted to die.

Let me explain. It's not at all as it seems. It is occurring to me now that nothing really is.

By this point, Sherlock had been chased by my old instigator, Professor James Moriarty, for months and years. Ms. Moran, who had always been loyal to Moriarty, was also after her. Sherlock couldn't take it anymore. Even Watson was in danger. Moriarty wanted to burn the heart out of her. It was going a bit too far for Sherlock. She realized that she had to fake her death.

Soon.

So she called me. Being that I worked for the government in a position that would help her "disappear," she thought it wise to call me before doing anything rash. She described her plan to me that would later become the story of "The Final Problem."

I wanted to see Moriarty and Moran for myself, tell them that it was all over now. Tell them that if they had something against me to bring it up with only me and leave Sherlock out of it.

I was close to contacting them, wherever they were now and causing whatever havoc they were now, and telling them to consult me at the Government building to discuss the state of Sherlock.

But I couldn't. No matter how much I wanted to, it would be too dangerous for either me or Sherlock to face Moriarty or Moran again without a well-thought-out plan. So Sherlock's fake death was the one we came up with.

Just after I helped Sherlock make all the preparations for her "death," she left with Watson to travel all over Europe, eventually ending up at Reichenbach Falls and her death with Moriarty.

I did, as Sherlock said, keep 221B in good shape for those two years that she was not around for. As many know, none of Sherlock's family was at her fake funeral for just this reason; she'd be back soon. But Watson was clearly distraught over the whole thing.

I invited Watson and his children, since his wife was already dead at the time, to the Diogenes once to talk to him about Sherlock a few weeks after his death. It was a short meeting, merely a formality as part of the plan outlined by me and Sherlock. After this, I did not see him again until Sherlock's return.

This return, as you, the reader probably realize, was full of epic grandeur and a result of a plan that could have only been carried out by two of the greatest minds in Europe. These minds, Sherlock's and mine, did eventually come together for another case.

This case was that of the missing Bruce-Partington Plans and the death of Cadogan West.

They had been stolen from my government office building days before, and someone from the Technology Department came to my office with the problem, asking if maybe I could ask my famous sister to solve it.

Obviously, I was wary, especially considering the crippling effects on me that had been a result of my last involvement with Ms. Sherlock Holmes, the Consulting Detective. But in the end, Sherlock needed business and this with the government was some of the best she could possibly get anywhere. So I told the man that I would notify Sherlock.

I called Sherlock the second I returned home from work. She was absolutely ecstatic to be seeing me again, and also to be solving a government case. In fact, I don't think I'd seen her that happy in a very long time. I was glad; some government matters could be boring, and she needed to put all her effort into this one since my job was on the line now.

The day I was called to 221B Baker Street, I pulled up in front of the house in one of the Diogenes' Rolls Royce cars just as I had last time. But before I was even fully out of the car, I heard a voice that made my skin crawl.

"Fancy car, huh? Even for you. It's one of the reasons why I sometimes wish I'd never quit the Diogenes."

I turned around. CRAP. It was Gina Lestrade.

"What are you doing here?" I replied, with an irritated tone in my voice.

"I'm here for the case that you told Sherlock about. She told Scotland Yard to send a D.I. to handle the case. Gregson's off today, and all the rest are either occupied or really don't want to work with your sister."

My hands were proverbially tied.

"Gina, this is a confidential government manner that I really don't think needs a D.I. on it..."

"Sherlock insisted that a D.I. should be here."

I was appalled. It seemed, apparently, that she worked with the D.I. Lestrade more than she made it seem. Obviously, Sherlock's life was nearly uninterrupted by the news I'd told her about Lestrade's betrayal of me in the face of Moriarty. She really was just like me now in some ways.

"Hey, Mycroft, you know Moriarty's dead! We can relax!"

"Well, we may not be able to. But I can relax just fine."

Lestrade looked at me sideways, laughed, and knocked on the door to 221B Baker Street.

Mrs. Hudson answered the door and brought us upstairs to Sherlock's flat, where Watson was gradually beginning to move back in. Mary Watson had died about two years ago at that point, and Dr. Watson lived with his children uncomfortably in the house he'd shared with his wife.

"A most annoying business, Sherlock," I said to my sister. "I hate altering my habits, but the powers that be would take no denial. I really have to get back to my office... Anyway, it was brought to me yesterday, and I expect to have it solved by the end of the week.

"I'll do my best. What were the technical papers?" Sherlock asked me.

"Ah, there's the point! Fortunately, it has not come out. The press would be furious if so. The papers which this kid had in his pocket were the Bruce-Partington drone plans."

I remember I spoke with a solemnity which showed my sense of the importance of the subject. My sister and Watson sat, listening fully.

"Its importance can hardly be exaggerated. It has been the most jealously guarded of all government secrets. You may take it from me that warfare becomes impossible within the radius of a Bruce-Partington's operation. The plans, which are exceedingly intricate, comprising some thirty separate patents, each essential to the working of the whole, are kept in an elaborate safe in a confidential office adjoining the arsenal, with burglar-proof doors and windows.

Under no circumstances whatsoever were the plans to be taken from the office. If the chief constructor of the Navy desired to consult them, even he was forced to go to the Woolwich office for the purpose. And yet here we find them in the pocket of a dead junior clerk in the heart of London. From both and official and average point of view, it's absolutely terrible."

"But you have recovered them?"

"No, Sherlock. We have not. Ten papers were taken from Woolwich. There were seven in the pocket of Cadogan West. The three most essential are gone--stolen, vanished. You must drop everything; it's a vital international problem that you have to solve. Why did Cadogan West take the papers, where are the missing ones, how did he die, how came his body where it was found, how can the evil be set right? Find an answer to all these questions, and you will have done good service for your country."

"Why do you not solve it yourself, Mycroft? You are perfectly capable."

"Possibly, Sherlock. But it is a question of getting details. Give me details, and from an armchair I will return you an excellent expert opinion. But the physical case solving; it is not my métier. No, you are the one person who can clear the matter up," I said. I did not bother to mention to Sherlock the fact that the problem was presented to me with the sole purpose of Sherlock's looking at it.

Lestrade smiled and shook her head.

"The problem certainly presents some points of interest, and I shall be very pleased to look into it. Some more facts, please?" Sherlock asked me.

*Well, we are almost to the end and I can't even believe I got this far with the story; THANK YOU ALL SOOO MUUUCH!!! :D More will be uploaded later, and I promise the ending will be good!*