Sherlock and Watson discussed the matter for some time amongst themselves. I sat back and tried to sleep, yet I found it as hard as the other nights leading up to this. I was on my way to safety and I still felt the iron grip my employer had over me. Punctuated by the innocent little orange pips within the envelope still clutched in my hand.
My attention was drawn by the sound of Sherlock's voice calling me back to reality and away from my ever present fear.
"May I see that for a moment?" he asked, motioning to the envelope in my hand.
I looked down to see that I had crumpled it some and that my fist had certainly done its work on the pieces of paper holding my death sentence. I nodded shortly and handed it to him. The waiter John had called upon for tea returned and set the little silver tray in the middle of the compartment on a little fold out table. He began to set out the china and fill the cups with the contents being held inside the pot.
Sherlock leaned forward and carefully emptied the 5 orange pips from the envelope onto the silver tray. I didnt take notice of the waiter faltering as he poured our tea through the filter into the little cups set precariously on the same tray. I watched as Sherlock's eyes worked their way up to the waiter who had once again to administer the liquid. He examined the man quickly and then stood abruptly allowing the china to slide on the little silver tray toward the ground. I caught it watching the orange pips steady themselves carefully and my eyes flew up to Sherlock and the waiter.
Holmes threw a few well placed punches and then had him up against the bench seat on the other end of the compartment. The waiter was grasping at Sherlock's forearm that was slowly strangling him as his olive skin began to change in color.
"Who are you working for?" Holmes yelled with a notable intensity
"No one!" The man pleaded "Please no one. But I know that sign!"
The man's hand lifted off of Sherlock's forearm and pointed at the silver tray where the orange pips lye. Sherlock glanced back cautiously at where the man's finger was pointing and considered the circumstances. With a sudden movement he had moved back away from the man and was standing and brushing himself off quietly. He fastened his arms behind his back and watched as the struggled to pull himself onto the seat and regain his breath. The mans eyes were now blood shot and his face had regained some of its color.
"You are Abrielle's child I believe? As well as the Pope's descendant?" Holmes asked as he bounced on his toes, still watching the man intensely
"I am," the man answered, nodding. I could hear the similar Italian accent in his voice, much like his brother's.
"Are we to assume there are four of you from that blood line?" Sherlock asked "That is assuming you are not one of them."
"No," the man shook his head. His curly hair drifting from side to side across his forehead "There are only three of us."
"Then do explain how you are 'no one's' side, as you so eloquently put." Holmes questioned bitterly. "While your at it, you might explain the presence of gun powder on your right forefinger."
"I was apart of the organization at one time," he answered, sitting up in his chair and rubbing at his neck. "I recently got a similarly foreboding message. So I challenged them, why would they openly kill their own brother. Even if I just wanted out of the venture."
"You wanted out of the venture why?" Holmes asked
"Similar reason's as her I suppose." He answered
At that he flung his hand out toward me and leaned across the compartment. I shook it briefly and he flashed me a smile as he held my hand for a moment.
"Ms.Caruso I assume," He said, eyeing me with his bright brown eyes "I believe you did dealings for us in China and repeatedly around Europe. I was so sorry to hear about your cousin."
"Thank you," I started and glanced around leaning forward myself "How do you know me?"
"I ran the operation with my other two brothers. After you got caught and went to prison I thought it might be possible for me to get out as well. It wasn't until too late that I found that neither of us could escape the organization, under their laws anyway. The gun powder sir, is only evidence of my own self defense. As I understand it one of my brothers went to dispatch you this very night. They sent a nobody to kill me. Its quite a testimony isnt it?" He smiled to himself and shook his head as he fished a cigar case from his pocket. "To how important they really thought I was."
"And you name?" Watson asked eyeing the strange similarly to Holmes.
"Giuseppe Karlotto," He smiled shaking Watson and then Sherlock's hand. "And yours?"
"John Watson," Sherlock pointed to John "And I am Sherlock Holmes."
"Ah yes," Giuseppe smiled and pointed at Sherlock as he lit his cigar "I have heard very much about you. I suppose then that you are assisting Cameo in this... mystery?"
"Indeed," Sherlock nodded "Perhaps you could shed some light on the subject?"
"I would not mind." Giuseppe nodded blowing a ring of smoke into the air "For I do not think I am far from danger, myself. But first, what has become of my brother?"
His eyes turned intently toward me and as I tried to read his expression Sherlock answered the man's question shortly.
"Dead." Sherlock said shortly "Self defense. Which of the three was he?"
"There is Franco the eldest, then me, and after comes Adriano, whom you encountered tonight." Giuseppe answered with some waver to his voice
Sherlock seemed to be straining himself at examining the man. His eyes were probing him as he puffed on his cigar and sat for a moment, seemingly in deep thought.
"The organization began when my mother transferred us to our father." He started "He raised us with certain ideals that our mother had not taught and we were old enough by then to form our own opinions. At least I thought we were, it is apparent to me now that I was the only one in control of my own head. You see my father taught us the ways of the catholic church and I am sure that as cultured men and woman, you know at least some of their teachings. They view heresy as one of the deepest sins that could be committed and heretics occupy one of the deepest levels of the catholic hell. As such as my brothers and I grew older our father began to give us...certain responsibility's. He said that they pertained to the church's needs and by no far stretch, God's needs. He told us that to complete these tasks was to serve our God to an extent that not many before had done. He christened us the crusaders of this age and each month he would give us 5 names. Five names of five men who by the end of that month must be dead. We completed these tasks our father set for us for many shamed years. As our party of crusaders expanded so did the list of names and the number of men we killed each month went up as quickly as the rate of men who joined our campaign. And then 3 years ago the tasks started to change in nature. We were now ordered to do different kinds of crimes in the name of God. He told us that God had a plan and we were helping to carry it out, that to stop now would be a sin far worse than those who we had killed previously had committed. Our crimes became similar to yours, rather identical. I oversaw the building of many facilities in many different countries as well as many bank robberies. I believe that they will run out of banks to rob before they run out of ways to spend the money."
He finished solemnly, a disgusted looked etched across his face. His chin was resting upon his chest and as he thought over his past I saw tears well up in his eyes. Suddenly he sat upright in his chair and took a deep breath through his nose, rubbing at his eyes as if to wake himself up.
"It is funny, Ms. Caruso." Giuseppe said thoughtfully "You have the looks that my father is inclined toward. You look a little something like my mother. She was a servant at the Vatican when she met him and then produced my 2 brothers and myself from their brief interval together."
Holmes watched him carefully and leaned back in his own chair with a resigned look crossing over his features. I glanced around uncomforatable at what he had mentioned. What an odd article to utter in regards to someone.
"And that is all you know?" Sherlock prodded gently
Giuseppe nodded his head. "I suggest that you go to the source of the problem. That is where you will find more of your answers."
"Can I interest you in accompanying us on our way?" Holmes asked delicately. His voice had become smooth and soothing, I found that I no longer recognized it as his own.
"I am afraid that I would weight upon your company." Giuseppe admitted to himself "You hardly need anymore weight upon your party. They will already have a hunting party on her tail you wont need me dragging you down any further."
"Whatever they administer, I am positive that we can handle it." Holmes assured him
"Then in that case I will insist." Giuseppe said, rising from his chair.
Holmes watched him with sad eyes as he opened the compartment door.
"I wish you luck Cameo. And to your friends. I hope that you can take them down. And yet I am not sure anyone can." He said grimly as he shut he put himself on the other side of the door with a short nod to each of us.
Holmes sighed and put his head in his hands. "That man is challenging death."
"I think he wants to," I said eyeing the spot where he had just been with my jaw clenched "He feels guilty and he feels he deserves punishment. So he will find someone to administer it."
"Terribly sinister." Watson said sadly
"Which one?" Holmes asked
"The man we just encountered of course." Watson said turning to look at Holmes
"Im not sinister." I defended "I am simply stating the obvious."
"The obvious? Really to whom?" Holmes turned toward me
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose "I dont care to argue."
"Who's arguing," He looked around the room
"No one," I answered back quickly
"Quite right," He pursed his lips and leaned into the wall. "To the Vatican then."