Journal of Inspector G. Lestrade
Having searched the guest bedroom and a couple of nearby closets, Holmes and I decided to go back to the dining room.
Back at our table, we found the Watsons had not returned.
‘How long have they been gone?’ said Holmes to his brother.
Mycroft checked his Half Hunter. ‘It’s just after seven, so almost fifteen minutes. Hadn’t you better go and look for them?’
Holmes started to rise from his seat, then sat down again. I followed his gaze to the far end of the room where a woman had stepped onto the stage. Standing at the lectern, she stared at the audience.
‘It’s Klopp,’ muttered Holmes.
While she waited for the diners to fall silent, I picked up my spoon and was about to start on the pea soup when Holmes touched my hand. His eyes went from mine to the soup bowl and back again.
I looked at Mycroft and the two ambassadors, who had all finished their soups. With my stomach grumbling, I was about to complain that I hadn’t eaten for hours, when Professor Klopp began to speak.
‘Gentlemen and gentlemen, I vould like to zank you all for coming here tonight to hear my thoughts about bringing economic equality to ze world. Unfortunately, zer vould be no point in telling you zat, because by eight o’clock tonight you vill all be dead.’
A murmur of disapproval ran around the room, but rather unexpectedly, no-one stood up to protest. I glanced at Holmes whose beady eyes were scanning the other diners. When I looked at Mycroft and the ambassadors, I saw they were all sitting very still, with only their eyes moving.
‘What’s happenin, Holmes?’ I whispered.
‘It’s the soup. They’ve all eaten it. Probably laced with a formula taken from that damned book of Ravenscroft’s, or perhaps a substance similar to the one Blackwood used to murder his father.’ He leaned over and poked Mycroft in the chest. Mycroft’s eyes widened but he did not move.
‘They’re bloody paralysed.’
‘But still able to hear,’ said Holmes.
‘Yes, Mr Holmes,’ said Lord Henry Blackwood, who had now arrived on the stage, a tall black hat and long cape giving him the appearance of some sort of posh wizard. ‘In fact, you and the inspector are the only individuals still able to move. Unfortunately, you are also unable to escape, as all the doors and shutters have been locked from the outside. Your friends Mr and Mrs Watson are,’ he laughed, ‘also unavoidably detained. Anyway, on with the show. I’d like to welcome the American and Russian ambassadors, gentlemen of the British government and various other industrialists and businessmen. You were all invited here in the belief that you would hear something to your advantage. Sadly, that is not the case. As you will have guessed by now, you have all been poisoned. Our good friend, the world’s first and only consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes, assisted me in locating a certain ancient book of spells. It is this book that has allowed me to develop a poison that would take effect approximately 30 minutes after imbibing it. However, the bombs we have planted above your heads will ensure that anyone who does not succumb, will be blown up.’
Holmes jumped to his feet. ‘You won’t get away with this, you fiend.’
‘Ah, Sherlock. Your rather stupid friend, Doctor Watson, said something along the same lines. Alas, he and his good lady are currently tied up in the company of one of my explosive devices and therefore won’t be with us for the rest of their lives. But I would not wish to kill everyone here without giving you, Sherlock, a small chance to save a few individuals, so I have hidden in this building, somewhere, a bottle of antidote. If you can locate it and give three or four drops to anyone still alive, you can save them. Of course, you still risk being blown to hell when the bombs go off, but you can’t have it all ways.’
‘Even if you kill us all,’ said Holmes, ‘you’ll still have half the government and the whole of the Metropolitan Police Force to contend with.’
Blackwood grinned. ‘The Government, yes, but not the dreaded fuzz. My men have also placed bombs at Scotland Yard and have utilised the services of a local soup kitchen to provide my special soup to any officers wishing to partake. So, you see, one way or the other, most of my current enemies will be dead by this time tomorrow.’
‘You’ve forgotten one thing, Blackwood,’ said Holmes. ‘You’re still here.’
‘For the moment, yes, but I have arranged an escape route for myself and my team.’ He glanced at his pocket watch. ‘In half an hour, I shall be dining at my country estate in the company of several elder politicians who share my beliefs on the future of Londen. Which gives me what I believe the gentlemen of the law would call a water-tight alibi.’
With that, he grabbed Klopp’s hand and hurried offstage.
‘What the bleedin hell are we goin ter do now, Holmes?’ said I.
‘Find that bleedin antidote, that’s what.’ He pushed his chair back. ‘And save John and Mary, and find the bombs and…’ He sighed. ‘Or at least give it a bloody good go.’