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a trifling matter of some jewels, when you were but a lad. I expect you might
remember if you turned your thoughts to it.
 Good Lord. I do. I mean, I thought it was my imagination, but I do remember
meeting Sherlock Holmes. The awe had knocked out his silly-ass act, and he
looked slightly stunned.  What are you doing here? I mean to say, is there
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anything I can do for you?
 I came here to ask the same of you.
 I m sorry, I don t understand. Do you mean about Iris? The police seem to
be 
Holmes held up a finger and cut him to silence.
 Lieutenant Fitzwarren, he said clearly,  you can be helped.
The young man gawped and swallowed.  Yes? Er, well, that s terribly kind of
you, he began uncertainly before Holmes cut him off again.
 Young man, you have made the unfortunate and all-too-common discovery that
the compound formed by the acetylation of morphia is highly addictive both
physically and mentally. I cannot help you with your mental dependency on
heroin, but I can help you rid yourself of the physiological one. It is not a
pleasant process. You will feel as you do now for an unbearably long time, and
you will for a shorter time feel considerably worse. At the end of it, you
will feel weak and empty and filled with shame, and the craving for the drug
will eat at your very soul, but you will be clean, and you will begin to
remember who you are. If, as I believe, the desire for cleanliness and memory
is growing in you, I can help. You, however, must make the decision.
 But& why? I don t even know you. Why should you& 
 For four years, you did for me what I could not, in the trenches, and this is
the price. I have been in your debt since you set foot on the troopship. I can
now begin to pay off that debt, by taking over a small part of the price that
you paid. You need only say the word, and I am your man.
A clock ticked slow seconds. Half a minute passed, then a minute. I listened
in agony for the approach of footsteps that would interrupt the two men (the
one young and racked by the drug pulling at his nerves, the other implacable
and utterly solid) and their wordless confrontation.
It was hard to say who moved first, but as the young man gasped for breath,
his hand came up, and as Holmes took it, his other hand came around to seize
Fitzwarren s shoulder in support and approval.
 Good man. Where s your hat?
 My hat? Surely you don t intend 
 I do intend.
 But, my mother& 
 Your mother will be infinitely better served by knowing that her son is
returning to himself than if she were forced to be around him in his present
state. She will forgive your absence at the funeral. Besides, if  twere done,
best  twere done quickly. He took the elegantly clad elbow and politely but
inexorably propelled his charge towards the door.  No, young man, you asked
for my help, and as many have found, you must take it as it comes,
inconvenient as that may be. Russell, you will make our apologies to the
family and give out some explanation or other, will you? Also, would you be so
good as to telephone Mycroft at the Diogenes Club and tell him that we are on
our way to the sanatorium and please to inform Dr McDaniels that we shall meet
him there.
The startled Marshall had scurried to retrieve the belongings of the two men,
and Holmes took the hat from the butler s hand and slapped it onto
Fitzwarren s head, jammed his own on, and gathered up the two proffered coats.
 Good-bye, Russell. You can reach me through Mycroft.
 Mazel tov, Holmes.
 Thank you, Russell, he said, and added under his breath,  I shall need it.
Ignoring the hovering butler, he draped the young man s shoulders with a coat
and shrugged into his own. The poor servant leapt for the door and held it
until both men had been whisked away by the waiting taxi, and then he turned
to me with a faint air of reproach.
 Does madam wish anything? he murmured.
 Madam wishes only that that man can find a way out of his troubles, I
answered absently.
He looked startled, but his training held.
 Indeed, madam, he said, only a fraction more emphatically than necessary.
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I went back into the library, made the telephone call, and felt as if a heavy
weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Only part of it was Miles.
eight
Thursday, 30 December
Woman compared to other creatures is the image of God, for she bears dominion
over them; but compared to man, she may not be called the image of God, for
she does not bear rule and lordship over man, but obeys him.
 Saint Augustine
« ^ »
With Holmes out of the way and Miles out of my hands, life looked somewhat
more manageable. I played Holmes game six moves to checkmate, poured myself a
glass of predictably excellent sherry from a crystal decanter, and went to
browse through the books.
I was twenty-three pages into a late-seventeenth-century Italian work on the
doges of Venice when Veronica came back.
 Sorry to have been so long, Mary. Where s Miles?
I closed the book over my finger.  Ronnie, your Miles is off taking the cure.
 What are you talking about?
I told her briefly what had taken place.
 That was all? As simple as that?
 A beginning, perhaps, nothing more.
She burst into tears and threw her arms around me, then flew out of the door
and upstairs. I returned to the doges and was on page ninety-two (I found the
archaic Italian slow going) when the door opened again. I rose, placed the
book back on the shelf, and joined a happier Veronica Beaconsfield than I had
seen since Oxford, with colour in her cheeks. I considered a warning, decided
against it, and allowed Marshall to help me with my coat. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]