The Reichenbach Plan

Chapter 5: Never Anger a Holmes

At least this time he wore pants

Holmes and Watson again found themselves in a waiting room of Buckingham Palace. "What have you done now?" Watson asked. "There are twenty-five possibilities, seven of which Mycroft is unaware." Holmes answered. "Zero, brother dear, and it's twenty-six. You forgot about Baskerville." Mycroft patronized as he walked into the room trailed by a young man in the standard suit of a civil servant. Holmes gave an involuntary shudder. It had only been a week since he and John had returned from the investigation of Baskerville. Visions of the hound still plagued his dreams. Holmes passed it off as residue of the gas. He glanced up at his brother, "I hope that you were spared the investigation. On second thought, no I don't." The civil servant blanched, and Mycroft assumed his posture of amused indifference. "If it wasn't for your one redeeming trait, Sherlock, you would be in prison." Sherlock looked genuinely shocked, "I have a redeeming trait. This would be a first, what is it?" "You don't work for the government." Mycroft answered. "Normally a fault, but a good thing in this case."
The civil servant tapped his foot repeatedly. "Are you completely finished yet, Holmes. Time is of the essence."
If his brother earned a gaze of amused indifference, Mycroft gave the young man a look of angry hostility. "Mr. Travers, I assure you, that I am well aware of the time, something your morning toilet indicates you are not." Sherlock chuckled, and whispered into Watson's ear, indicating places on Travers' person with sidelong glances. The man in question suddenly grew self-conscious and his face turned as red as his tie. "This is Bertram Travers, a minister under the Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs." Mycroft said. Travers, having regained a modicum of personal dignity, raised his hand. "Before you begin Mr. Holmes, can we trust that your brother and Dr. Watson can be trusted. Wasn't he responsible for the failure of Flight 007 because he was trying to impress a woman." Sherlock's turned toward the man, a slight smile on his lips. "Carbuncle." he said plainly. Travers turned completely white, "How did you...?" "I cannot reveal all of my connections, but lets say. I am not the only one whose has let, shall we call her a woman, jeopardize state secrets; but unlike certain media moguls, I do not see the need for the information to be public."
Mycroft interrupted, "Brother dear, we do need to get down to why you have been summoned." The three men gave Travers their full attention. "Dr. Watson, Sherlock, what I am about to reveal, I appeal to your patriotism. This morning a document of immense importance has been removed from my high security attache case. How and why I cannot answer as the box has not been out of my possession. I also cannot tell you what the document is. All I can tell you is that you are looking for a blue envelope with a seal with a red lion and crescent. Find it and you have the thanks of a grateful nation." Sherlock stared at the man for a second and then stood. "Blood, it has been a displeasure like always, don't forget dinner on Sunday. Please bring something other than that awful wine." Travers looked at him in utter shock, "you are leaving?" Sherlock turned toward him, venom in his eyes. "First of all, you have insulted my brother, a privilege only I am allowed. Second you present me with a case that is vague to the point of boring. Third, your condescending manner is such that I wish you every punishment your ineptitude is entitled." With that Holmes turned and walked out of the room leaving Travers and Watson speechless, and Mycroft amused.

Mycroft arrived at Baker Street later that evening. "Sherlock, I have just come from a meeting with the Prime Minister. It was his decision as to the vagueness of the information. After a lengthy discussion, he has agreed to give you a fuller picture; but not a full picture because of national security. Flight 007 has put us under the microscope. Yesterday, Mr. Travers received a treaty from a foriegn nation. The country has been reluctant to deal with us, due to overwhelming pressure from the surrounding nations. If the details of the treaty are revealed now, we will not only lose this nation, but also trust in a region that is very unstable. There is also the possibility a nation in the region would see this move as a prelude to war. Travers, while he would not show it, is in tatters. It is showing in his domestic life. Just before I came over here, his wife met me in my office. She tried her best to pry information out about the importance of the document, but I downplayed it." Holmes made a flittering motion with his fingers at eye level, before bringing his steepled fingers together touching his lips. He wrote on a piece of paper and handed to Mycroft, who glanced at before resigning it to the fire. "Correct, blood, and now you have a better picture as to the danger." Holmes nodded, "has the country been informed?" Mycroft nodded, "they have given us by midnight tomorrow, Greenwich, to find the document. Holmes looked at the clock then nodded. "I'll take the case, it may have some merit after all." Mycroft nodded, and then walked out the door. Holmes sat still in his chair after Mycroft left for a few minutes. He ran to his room, to emerge ten minutes later, disguised as a dockworker tough. "Don't wait up for me." He yelled as he left 221B.

Watson came back from morning shopping to find Holmes sitting in his chair staring out toward Baker Street. "Any luck?" Watson asked. "No," Holmes bellowed. "Every one of my sources is coming up empty. If the person is intending to sell, I would have heard about it. Watson, we are dealing with a man who is having to balance the worth of his information against time. If he sells too early, he doesn't get the full worth. The same if he waits too long. It is a battle of nerves that rivals our friend Moran. There are currently four men who could handle the heat that playing this game requires." In Holmes mind palace he was staring at the four men. His glance fell on Magnussen, then shook his head. "No, he likes information that has long term usefulness. Having this information is worthless to him. That leaves me with Jean La Rothiere, Eduardo Lucas, and Diedrich Oberstein. Now, which man has it?"

"Lucas doesn't"

Sherlock turned to Watson, "what, in your finite power of deduction, led you to that conclusion?" Watson turned his laptop so that Holmes could see the screen:

"He's dead"