When I'd first been handed the report about a year ago, I had actually chuckled as I finished reading it. I appreciated it when my bosses displayed a sense of humour. I stopped when I realised that the Prime Minister was not laughing.
"Something about this amuses you, Thomas?"
Even in my memory the subtle threat underlying his words made me stand up a little straighter. I pressed the doorbell.
Now that I was actually standing in front of the large, rather imposing gothic building, the tales of cyanide machines, teleporting murderers and woman doctors who dissected monsters for a living suddenly seemed far more plausible. It was something to do with the strange aura that clung to the place. I could've sworn one of the gargoyles had just moved.
The thick wooden front door swung open, and I recognised Dr James Watson's face as soon as he appeared at the entrance. The file sitting on my desk back at the office had come with an old group photograph attached. Twenty years later and the man hadn't aged a day, although his appearance in the flesh was rather more dishevelled. There was a smudge of what looked like soot on his face, and a large circular burn mark on the breast of his waistcoat. And what sort of respectable gentleman opened his own front door? I supposed I should just be grateful that I hadn't been greeted by Jack the Ripper.
His smile however was perfectly charming, and when he spoke it was with the educated tones of an Old Etonian.
"How may I help you, Mr…?"
"Thomas. We spoke over the telephone a few days ago. I've been sent to ensure that the monetary support being provided to you is adequate,"
An expression of distaste flitted across the man's face before it was smothered by a carefully polite expression. He was obviously unhappy with the idea of being on the cabinet payroll, which I supposed it was natural considering the service he, Dr Magnus and their other acquaintances had been forced to perform in order to receive such support.
"Please, come in. You'll have to make do with talking to me I'm afraid. Dr Magnus is otherwise occupied,"
I stepped across the threshold just in time to hear a loud crashing noise and a voice shouting: "I told you not to touch that Nikola!" followed by a diatribe that would have been shocking coming from a man's mouth, let alone the rather higher tones in which it was uttered.
My jaw dropped and I turned to find Dr Watson still smiling pleasantly at me, seemingly utterly unaffected by the wholesale slaughter of decency occurring inside his own house.
"Shall we?" he asked, turning and leading me into a small sitting room just off the entrance hall. The shouting upstairs continued, punctuated by a thud that sounded suspiciously like a mantel clock might if one were to pick it up and hurl it across the room. The sound made me flinch.
"Please, make yourself at home," Dr Watson offered, gesturing at a pair of comfortable looking armchairs next to the fireplace. At least the furniture in this room was in order. I sat, eyeing him – and the ceiling – warily. Thankfully, the noise seemed to have dissipated somewhat after the last loud bang had finished echoing off the walls.
"Should I ring for refreshments?" he enquired, seating himself opposite me.
"No thank you," I responded. This house was making me nervous enough without the added complication of worrying about what exactly was in my tea. Dr Watson raised an eyebrow, but continued without comment.
"The capital the government provided us with has been very helpful, most recently in the acquisition of some more up to date equipment for the staff…"
A shot rang out, causing me to jump to my feet in shock. Dr Watson, still completely unmoved, observed my reaction with a distinctly amused expression.
"Do sit back down Mr Thomas,"
Perhaps he was slow on the uptake. The man was over sixty after all, despite his appearance.
"Dr Watson," I enunciated slowly, "I believe I just heard a shot being fired,"
A mischievous look leapt into his eyes, one completely and frighteningly at odds with the calm, matter of fact way in which he spoke his next words;
"There's really nothing to be concerned about. Mr Tesla only arrived yesterday and he and Dr Magnus have been at loggerheads ever since. I expect things will calm down now that she's got it out of her system,"
I stared at him as he filled his pipe, having made the cheerful admission that his colleague had just attempted to murder a guest with a governmentally funded firearm.
I remained standing.
"If it's quite alright Dr Watson, I'm afraid I can't stay. I've just remembered a matter of vital importance that requires my immediate attention,"
My voice was falsely jovial, but there was an edge of the manic to it that Dr Watson seemed to hear very well, if the slight curve of his lips was anything to go by. Then a sudden thought seemed to strike him, and I was certain that the smile would have expanded into a full Cheshire Cat grin if propriety had allowed it.
"Certainly. I'll ring for the butler to escort you out,"
A few tense minutes followed, in which I shuffled nervously from foot to foot and Dr Watson lit his pipe, the unnerving almost-grin never leaving his face. Then there was a knock.
"Come in," Dr Watson called, and the door opened.
I only managed two relieved steps forward before my legs buckled under me.
The butler had tentacles.
