The Female Charm (3 page)

She'd been working
just long enough to lose herself in her characters' world when the
phone buzzed, making her jump. Her heart leapt in her chest as she
looked at the reply.

I hope you
enjoyed your modern treasure hunt this morning. You've got time to
figure out the answer. Not all problems have deadlines that are
apparent at the beginning, or information that is obviously
connected.

Amelia almost
dropped her phone in shock. This was extra teaching and advice and
very forthcoming for Myron. He was either in a good mood or pleased
with her, for some reason. Whatever the cause, she wasn't going to
waste the goodwill.

I did enjoy the
treasure hunt, and my extra surprise. I even managed to retrieve
the letter without my friends noticing. Are you well and in the
government's good graces again?

Amelia relaxed and
made herself another cup of tea. She could do this; she just needed
to trust herself and keep going. Whatever Myron's world involved,
as long as she stayed calm, she could cope with it. As she sat down
with her fresh beverage, Myron's reply came through.

I'd be very
concerned if you had let your friends notice you take the letter.
Sebastian insisted you'd become very adept at sleight of hand or
I'd never have put the letter there. I am as well as can be
expected if you're referring to my health, and the government soon
remembered how much they needed me. Now, get back to your writing
and do stay alert. We wouldn't want you to miss anything
important.

A grin spread
across her face as she imagined Myron saying the last part. It
wasn't a question, but she knew she could get away with one quick
reply.

As you
command.

She allowed
herself a brief thought over whether the message would make him
smile or not before she did as she'd been bid and continued with
her work.

The brandy glass
sat almost empty, and entirely forgotten, to one side of his desk,
while Mycroft stared at his computer screen. After the busy start
to the day, he'd hoped to be finished with his work, but a James
McGregory of Lockerbie had been traced as the initial source of the
anonymous messages. It had taken his people a little over a day to
comb through the records from the stationery store and get him a
name. Several minutes after that, they'd found his younger brother
had been the temporary postman for the local area and delivered
parcels to the MP's office on several occasions. Only an hour
later, they had an address and someone lined up to visit the
men.

On his screen was
a report of what had occurred at that meeting. He'd read it through
twice. The second perusal had only served to make him wish he'd
handled it entirely himself.

Met with
McGregory snr. Seemed awkward but polite at first. Signs of
nervousness and agitation but hidden reasonably well. Offered to
recompense him for his time and cooperation with ensuring the
information only got in the right hands. He refused the money but
grew even more uncomfortable and possibly nervous about something.
Tried offering a higher amount but this only made him angry and he
claimed the MP didn't deserve so easy an escape. Didn't want raised
voices so have left. Younger McGregory has cooperated fully. Didn't
seem to understand what he'd acquired. Awaiting further
instruction.

D

For whatever
reason, Mr McGregory had refused the bribe, and his agent hadn't
handled the man's offence at being bribed very well. Mention of
awkwardness or possibly nervousness was unexpected. The agent
wouldn't have seemed threatening, which meant McGregory had some
other reason. It was enough to make Mycroft want to dig deeper.
With the lack of results, he had no choice but to get involved.

Ten minutes
earlier he'd abandoned his evening's usual relaxation to demand
further details. Something wasn't right, and until he had answers
he couldn't allow his mind to rest.

Thankfully, his
secretary was still awake, and she emailed him more information
long before anyone else could. He briefly considered giving her a
raise.

Bank records
show payment from currently unknown source, amount just a little
under our first bribe offer. I'll keep digging to find out who sent
it.

Mycroft sighed,
realising the Scotsman had sold the information to a reporter
already. He had a pretty good idea who it was. His secretary would
have it confirmed before the morning, which meant only one thing:
someone going and reminding the reporter why it wouldn't be a good
idea to write about the misappropriation of government funds. And
he evidently couldn't trust the government agents to handle the
matter. The same people would only bungle it further. This task now
required a Holmes brother.

After standing,
Mycroft summoned Daniels. Sherlock would still be awake. Mycroft
could only hope his younger brother didn't have a case.

London was wrapped
in mist as Daniels drove the usual black car off the drive and into
the streets. The pale orange of the old-fashioned street lamps
loomed out of the fog like strange little suspended angels watching
over the few scurrying inhabitants of England's capital city.

Something about
this sort of weather always made the city feel as if it had gone
back in time. As if he would see a horse and carriage next, or a
penny farthing, instead of the modern cars and bikes that filled
the streets now. On evenings like this, Mycroft missed the days of
his youth. There were definitely downsides to being alive far
longer than the average human.

When Daniels
pulled up on Baker Street, Mycroft hurried towards the front door.
As he pushed the door open, he straightened the number '221b'.

“Good evening, Mr
Holmes,” Mrs Wintern called out from her living room. Her door was
open, and he caught a glimpse of her getting up from her chair and
heading towards her small kitchen. If nothing else, she brought
some semblance of routine to his visits with his brother.

The stairs creaked
in all the right places as he walked upwards, and the door gave off
the familiar slight squeak of the hinges. Immediately, he noticed
the faint smell of sulphur in the room and Sherlock sitting over by
the open window, studying something on his desk. A breeze brushed
past him, strengthened by the passageway he'd opened up for it.

“Whatever it is,
I'm busy,” the younger Holmes brother said before Mycroft could
even speak.

“It's
important.”

“It always is with
you. The fate of the country or its reputation is always at stake
when you come in. Occasionally, there's even lives in danger.”

Mycroft tried not
to show his annoyance, and walked the rest of the way into the
flat. Sherlock finally looked up from the piece of paper he had in
his hands.

“Two siblings are
squabbling over who is responsible for an aunt's dog dying.”

“And that's
important?”

“Yes. The dog was
actually killed because of a pesticide. Rather interesting really.
Of course, they only care because the aunt is threatening to
disinherit them, but people are shallow like that.”

“Well, if you've
figured it out already, then you're not busy, are you?”

“Oh, I was
explaining the smell. I've got three other cases to work on.”

Mycroft didn't
need to see Sherlock's face to know this wasn't entirely true, but
when his brother was like this there was no way to make him budge
but offer him the task and see how bored he really was.

“I need someone to
go to Scotland and plug a leak for me. I don't trust anyone else
not to bungle it. The only thing at stake is a man's reputation,
but finding a way to stop the reporter should be at least somewhat
challenging. Enough so, that I don't have an agent who can do
it.”

As soon as Mycroft
finished speaking, he knew it was useless. Sherlock only frowned.
It didn't interest him at all.

“Send Amelia. She
can be very persuasive, especially if the reporter's male.”

“No, brother of
mine, I won't send her when trained agents won't be good
enough.”

“Well then, you'll
have to go yourself, as much as you'll dislike that. If you won't
send her, then that's your only option.”

“Very well. If you
reconsider before tomorrow morning, let me know.”

Mycroft walked
back out of the flat and was about to start down the stairs when he
noticed Mrs Wintern coming up them with a tea tray in hand.

“Not staying?” she
asked.

“I'm sure
Sebastian will oblige the effort,” he said and stepped to the side
out of her way. She pursed her lips but didn't complain, and it
wasn't long before Daniels was opening the car door to let him hide
within.

Only once he was
settled in the back of the car did he express his frustration. A
small grunt of annoyance escaped his lips when Daniels glanced in
the rear-view mirror, obviously wanting directions on where to
go.

“Home, Daniels,”
he said. “We're going to Scotland tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” the
chauffeur replied, not quite managing to stop his look of surprise.
Mycroft hadn't been out of London in several years. By the time the
car had joined the flowing traffic, Daniels had regained his
composure and Mycroft's thoughts were focused on the next day.

When he was still
a few miles from home, his phone buzzed with a message from Amelia.
He frowned as he pulled the device from his pocket. The task he'd
set her shouldn't be solvable yet as she still missed a vital piece
of information to know which numbers were relevant. That meant
there could only be one reason she was contacting him. Mycroft
cursed at the interference of his younger brother. Why did he never
understand the word no?

Your younger
brother has just informed me that you need my help tomorrow. He
said it would require a trip to Scotland. I can make the day
available, or even longer, if necessary.

In response,
Mycroft began tapping out his declination of her help, but before
he could send the message, he paused. A second later he deleted
it.

You'll get the
6am train from Bath. Buy a return to Dumfries, but get off at
Lancaster. I'll await you there.

It was an
impulsive decision but she might prove useful on the day, and if
not, she could shadow him and learn. If he was going to go to the
effort of leaving London, he might as well teach Amelia something
at the same time. In the future, it might mean he could do exactly
as his younger brother had suggested and send Amelia. Whether it
was bad taste to think it or not, a female often had better results
persuading a man to do as she wished.

During the
following day, he had planned a few more sections of her latest
lesson, but it would be little effort to incorporate them into his
own agenda while she was with him, and now he'd given her
instructions he couldn't take the decision back. While he was
thinking this, she replied.

That's an early
start. Will I need to bring any specific items I wouldn't normally
carry?”

A frown flitted
across his face. He hoped she wasn't complaining, but was pleased
she was at least trying to prepare for whatever might come.
Sherlock had probably told her very little.

No. Your usual
fare will suffice.

Mycroft put the
phone away, not expecting another reply that evening. All the
information Amelia needed to be getting on with was provided. Any
further questions she might have could be dealt with the next
day.

“Thank you,
Daniels. That will be all this evening,” Mycroft said when the car
was sitting on the drive, its engine clicking slightly as it cooled
in the cold February night air. “Have the car ready by six tomorrow
morning. We need to be at Lancaster train station for a few minutes
after ten, and then we'll go onwards to Lockerbie.”

Again, Daniels
pulled a brief puzzled expression but he asked no questions. If
Mycroft didn't offer an explanation, there wouldn't be one.

“Yes, sir. I'll
retire then, sir.” Daniels nodded and scurried off to his own
room.

As soon as Mycroft
was in the door of his study, he rearranged his meetings for the
following day, made a few alterations to Amelia's ongoing lesson,
and then, finally, sat back down in his armchair to finish off the
brandy. Its flavour had changed slightly in the hour it had sat out
on his desk, but not in any way detrimental to his enjoyment of the
drink. He threw it back and poured himself another.

He briefly checked
his emails one last time to see if his secretary had uncovered the
name of the reporter who had bought the information yet, but found
nothing new. It didn't worry him. The email would be there by the
time he needed it.

Taking his time
over the second brandy, Mycroft settled back into his chair. When
he'd woken up that morning, he hadn't expected the day to end this
way, with an impending trip to Scotland. Not only was that
something out of the ordinary but he wouldn't be alone. A woman was
coming with him.

It was still dark
when the ringing alarm forced Amelia to open her eyes. She blinked
several times and rubbed her eyes to loosen and remove the sleep
collected around them. When she sat up, she groaned. Mornings were
never a pleasant surprise. Then she remembered Myron had summoned
her and felt the first buzz of energy pass through her body. Maybe
some mornings were a pleasant surprise after all.

She pushed back
the covers and began her dressing routine. To ensure she was ready
on time, she'd placed the clothes she'd want nearby the night
before and showered as well. Sleeping on damp hair had made it a
little more wild than normal but nothing a fierce brush and a few
pins couldn't tame.