Mrs Hudson's Olympic Triumph

S Brown Barry

Description

It is 1896. Mrs. Hudson and her colleagues are traveling to Athens to attend the first Olympiad in more than 2000 years. Indeed, Holmes is to participate in the foils competition as a member of Great Britain's Olympic team. But the trip is more than just fun and games. The three members of London's first and foremost consulting detective agency are, in fact, engaged in a delicate bit of undercover work on behalf of Queen and country. They are to secure a letter being sent by courier to Queen Victoria from her daughter, the Dowager Empress of Germany. Peace between the two nations may well depend on the contents of that letter. They arrive to find both the courier and the wife of the British Ambassador shot dead in the Ambassador's residence. The letter and the Ambassador are nowhere to be found. They discover, too, that Inspector Lestrade is already in Athens investigating the sale of fake antiquities to the wife of the Ambassador. The Baker Street trio has the ten days of the Olympiad to recover the critical letter, capture a double murderer, and uncover the secret behind the scheme to pass off copies of Greek antiquities as genuine-all while Holmes seeks to dispatch his fencing competition and win an Olympic medal.

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 12 décembre 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781787051720
• Langue: English

Extrait

Mrs. Hudson’s Olympic Triumph
Book Five in the series
Mrs. Hudson of Baker Street
by
Barry S Brown




Published in the UK by
MX Publishing
335 Princess Park Manor, Royal Drive,
London, N11 3GX
www.mxpublishing.co.uk
Digital edition converted and distributed by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
© Copyright 2017 Barry S Brown
The right of Barry S Brown to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998.
All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without express prior written permission. No paragraph of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted except with express prior written permission or in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright Act 1956 (as amended). Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damage.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious or used fictitiously. Except for certain historical personages, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The opinions expressed herein are those of the authors and not of MX Publishing.
Cover design by Brian Belanger



Praise for Earlier Work
in the Mrs. Hudson of Baker Street series:
“Each new book surpasses the others... Some enterprising TV producer is missing out on a potentially great TV mystery series!”
Over My Dead Body Mystery Magazine
“It is always a pleasure to recommend a Sherlock Holmes novel that retains reader’s interest to the very end. This one did.”
Sherlockian.net
“...a gloriously complex and improbable scenario... an entertaining romp... Mrs. Hudson’s a likeable character, and disconcertingly credible.”
The District Messenger , Newsletter of the Sherlockian Society of London
“...imaginative plotting ...”
Scuttlebutt , a Sherlockian Newsletter
“...an inherently entertaining and fascinating read from beginning to end... an enduringly popular addition to community library Mystery/ Suspense collections ...”
Midwest Book Review
“...Brown offers oodles of tasty background... leads our heroes on a merry chase... has good insights into character, and he throws out a satisfying cast of possible suspects ...”
Wilmington Star-News




While many of the actors and events of the 1896 Olympic Games are reported with a proper regard for historical accuracy, the author has not felt himself bound by an unvarying adherence to reality, either in this writing or in the conduct of his life.




Remembering the Misfits of Brooklyn, New York, circa 1950 - a fairly good softball team, and an outstanding band of brothers.



Bound for Athens
“Sherlock, wake up. If I’m to be awake at this ridiculous hour, so by God are you.”
The recumbent figure, lost in dreams a moment earlier, opened one eye to confirm the improbable sight the voice suggested. The improbable sight confirmed, opening a second eye did nothing to reduce his confusion. Looming over him, still panting from having ascended the 17 steps to Holmes’ bedroom, stood his older brother, Mycroft. Behind Mycroft, half hidden by his bulk, was Mrs. Hudson, her gray hair in unkempt curls reaching to her shoulders and her dark wrapper tight around her.
It was a scene out of place, out of time. Holmes could not imagine the emergency that would bring his brother across the city at any hour, much less at an hour when the sun was barely risen.
“Mycroft, what could possibly require my attention at a time when one’s only thought should be of breakfast?” Holmes was sitting upright in bed now, the cover drawn to the midriff of his nightshirt in deference to Mrs. Hudson.
The mention of breakfast had the desired effect on Mycroft. Cocking his head to one side, he considered his brother’s observation, then accepted the suggestion contained within it.
“You’re quite right. We need to fortify ourselves for the day ahead, and I can describe the situation as well over breakfast as in your bedroom - probably better.” Mycroft turned from his brother to the silent presence at his back. “Nothing elaborate, Mrs. Hudson. But if you have some sausages on hand, perhaps a few eggs, and some rashers of bacon. Mycroft had a faraway look in his eyes as he considered what was missing from his impromptu menu. A broad smile welcomed its recall. “Kippers would be nice as well, Mrs. Hudson. And, of course, buttered toast. That should give us a good start.”
Holmes grunted agreement, and with only a raised eyebrow as her response, Mrs. Hudson left to explore her larder.
Twenty minutes later, Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes, joined by a still groggy Watson, were reducing the mound of eggs, rings of sausage, rashers of bacon, and stacks of toast that formed the centerpiece of the landlady’s table. Without a trace of apology, Mrs. Hudson reported the absence of kippers, for which she was nonetheless grudgingly forgiven by Mycroft.
After paying appropriate tribute to the feast and its provider, he began the explanation of his early morning visit, first issuing a caution that all he was about to relate was to be held in the strictest secrecy - in accord with the express wishes of those at “the highest reaches of government.” Pausing to be certain the significance of his statement had been understood, he then made clear his expectation that Watson and Mrs. Hudson would work with Sherlock to carry out the assignment he was about to outline.
“Doctor, you will, of course, be Sherlock’s friend and colleague, but not, I fear, his scribe in this undertaking. And you, Mrs. Hudson, will be his housekeeper, being taken on a bit of a holiday - if that’s agreeable.”
A bemused smile and nod told him it was. Apart from the residents of 221B Baker Street, Mycroft alone knew the role of the diminutive woman who, even as he spoke, was readying a second pot of tea for their refreshment.
“Good. Then let me get on with it. Sherlock, I recognize that you choose to remain oblivious to the world beyond Baker Street, but I must impress on you that issues of war and peace may hang in the balance of the mission you are asked to undertake. May I assume you’re aware of the Kruger telegram?” he asked hopefully. He got a blank look from Holmes, but a spirited response from Watson.
“You’re referring to the letter sent by the German Government after our unfortunate expedition in South Africa.”
Mycroft gave a soft groan. “Yes, it could well be described as unfortunate. It could also be described as an utter debacle. Rhodes used his authority as Governor of the Cape Colony to organize an attack on the neighboring Transvaal Republic without bothering to share his plan with the Foreign Office. He simply sent this fellow Jameson on a quixotic expedition in the hope of creating an insurrection by British laborers working in that Boer territory. As it turned out, Jameson’s Raid - as they’re now calling it - was such a disaster that Rhodes’ own brother was captured and jailed, together with a number of other British subjects. Our government is currently negotiating their release - more’s the pity.”
Watson frowned his confusion. “But surely then the issue is resolved. The Foreign Office will, I assume, do whatever is necessary to smooth things over just as they always do. How do we come into it?”
Taking note that the plate of sausages had been unexpectedly replenished by Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft paused in responding long enough to make certain he would not be denied access to the fresh bounty. He set one of the plump additions on his plate, but held himself to a single bite before answering Watson.
“That’s where the bloody Kruger telegram comes in. Pardon my language, Mrs. Hudson. Kaiser Wilhelm chose to send a telegram to Kruger, the President of the Transvaal, congratulating him on repelling the armed bands that attacked his country. Like it or not - and the Foreign Office doesn’t like it - those armed bands were British, and therefore we condemn this insult from the Kaiser. At the same time, no one really knows the significance of the Kruger telegram.”
“All of which adds up to what?” Holmes rejoined the conversation, sensing the preliminaries were coming to an end, and his role might soon be made clear.
“All of which adds up to our need to know the meaning of the telegram. It may be an impetuous and therefore meaningless act on the part of the Kaiser, or it may signal his intent to stir up trouble for us in Africa and perhaps elsewhere. We need to know whether it’s the Kaiser’s chronic inability to think before he speaks, or if it signals something more sinister. And your government has decided that you, Sherlock, are the man to help us find that out.”
Mycroft looked intently to his brother, then asked a seemingly frivolous question.
“Sherlock, do you still play at swords?”
Holmes had come forward in his chair, prepared to declare for Queen and country, only to be asked a question he found irrelevant to the heroic mission he envisioned for himself. “If you mean do I still practice with foils, the answer is, yes - occasionally - but what has that to do with anything?”
“Yes, of course, that requires explanation.” Mycroft looked longingly to the sausage on his plate before steeling himself to go on. “It’s a rather extraordinary situation actually. You’re aware the Kaiser’s mother, the Dowager Empress Vickie, is our Queen’s eldest daughter. Her name is really Victoria, of course, but she’s known by everyone as Vickie to avoid the obvious confusion. At any rate, Empress Vickie and her son have a long-standing disagreement about relations with our country. K