The Autobiography of Mycroft Holmes

Chapter 39: Those Who Know Nothing

"I have jotted down the more essential facts on this sheet of paper, together with a few addresses which you will find of service. The actual official guardian of the papers is the famous government expert, Sir James Walter, whose decorations and sub-titles fill two lines of a book of reference. He's been in the service for years, is a gentleman, a favoured guest in the wealthiest of houses, and, above all, a man whose patriotism is beyond suspicion.

He is one of two who have a key to the safe. I may add that the papers were undoubtedly in the office during working hours on Monday, and that Sir James left for London about three o'clock taking his key with him. He was at the house of Admiral Sinclair at Barclay Square during the whole of the evening when this incident occurred."

"Oh, so he's got an alibi?" Sherlock asked me.

"That is what it seems is it not?"
After stating this, I told Sherlock of the rest of the suspects, and idiotically, of the ones I did not think it was who had committed the crime. I did not realize that I was drastically misleading my sister, who was still working with Lestrade and was, finally, appearing anxious about having us in the same room together accidentally.

Lestrade and I had only one more interaction. It was the one that follows here:

She and I were alone in the foyer of 221B when the subject was finally approached that Moriarty could have been the one doing this. Did he still want to get back at me for something? I didn't know, and neither, apparently, did Lestrade.

"I cannot know either," I said. "I never really understood him, or Moran for that matter."

"I know you are her twin sister," Lestrade said to me. I turned to her in great anxiety.

"What makes you think that?"

"You both look exactly the same. You're the same age. You're both American. It's rare that you get two people as similar as that."

"We are nothing alike, dear D.I. Lestrade."

"Oh yes, you are. It's why I wanted to shoot you. You are so similar, and even if you don't admit it, you two are closely related. Even if not by blood, which I do still find highly improbable, then by circumstance and chance."

"We are not related in any way," I said, looking around. My car was coming. "We relinquished those bonds long ago," I stated, getting into my car. Lestrade's eyes widened, but she didn't try to chase me. The time for that was long over.

Yes, I did slightly embarrass myself that day by possibly misleading Sherlock with my incorrect deductions. But this was masked heavily by all the intelligent work I had done and Sherlock's embarrassment at having been misled by me. Eventually, we did catch the criminal in the end and get the plans back.

It took less than three days, and I had good reports for my government colleagues when they asked. For this, I will never be able to repay Sherlock Holmes.

Watson did reveal, in this story, my true position in the British Government. I am not really surprised; Sherlock had to tell him eventually. And why wouldn't he want to write about that? It really is a bit of very important information.

If I was not in that position, how could I have given Sherlock the Bruce-Partington plans case? At any rate, this is how people began to wonder about me.

There were news articles and stories, asking "Who is Mycroft Holmes? And why don't we know her better?" Cameramen and Journalists followed me around for days; you know I hate journalists more than death, don't you? For this reason exactly. Eventually, Sherlock agreed not to take any more cases that I would be to give her, considering that I'd probably be featured in the story version. It was really for the better.

This book details the response to those questions that the reporters asked.

Here is where my story basically comes to its end. It is, surprisingly, not as long as I thought it would be.

And, ironically, enough, it is very centered around Sherlock.