Chapter 16

-August 16, 1901-

Prosecutor's Office

When Barok returned to his office after concluding his mid-day break, he found himself pondering that, even though he and his fellow travelers had returned from their holiday on the Isle of Wight nearly three weeks ago at this point, a subtle yet profound shift in his perception seemed to linger just beyond the edge of his conscious mind since those days.

It was not due to the fact that Iris had learned of their connection, although of course this revelation had had an impact on their relationship. For one, the girl had insisted to make Friday afternoon tea a standing invitation for him, and for another, she was far more likely to seat herself next to him or straightforwardly ask him for a hug when he was present at 221B Baker Street. The latter circumstance had apparently caused Albert to be a little puzzled, until Iris had told him that it was part of the favor she had asked of Barok – a white lie that could stand for a little while, as far as he was concerned.

Likewise, the change in his outlook had not resulted from his and Asogi's working relationship acquiring a more relaxed quality than he could have ever envisioned after reluctantly agreeing to not withdraw from prosecuting completely last year, even though this, too, was consistently proving itself as conducive to more fruitful collaboration, and therefore markedly better-prepared cases.

No – while these changes had certainly left their mark on his routines and interactions with others, they did not account for the fact that he had recently found his mind wandering even during work hours, and that said mental excursions never featured emotions such as anger, regret, or even determination, feelings that would usually serve to sharpen his focus. Instead, he had caught himself more than once glancing down on a form without reading a single word written on the sheet of paper, with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, uncertain just what had caused it to appear.

Thankfully, Asogi had either not caught him in one of those moments yet, or at least had decided to feign ignorance; additionally, they had not once surfaced in the courtroom so far, which would instantly make them a cause for concern. For the time being, they were nothing more than a somewhat strange new habit which had apparently formed in response to some elements of their seaside holiday last month, but considering that he had never been prone to this sort of behavior in the past, they remained noteworthy – particularly since they most frequently occurred on Fridays after returning from taking lunch.

Upon entering his office and pulling the door shut behind himself, Asogi, who had been working at his low desk nearby, rose to his feet and bowed. "Welcome back, my Lord."

Barok sent him a smirk. "I'm assuming that translates to, 'I'd like to ask for a favor, but should probably perform some sort of obsequious display first so my chances of success improve.' Out with it, then."

"Would my tactic still work even though you partially caught me?" Asogi grinned back at him. "For the record, there are two things about which I'd like to inquire, although one of them is not necessarily a matter of immediate concern."

"Ah, we are becoming demanding. Very well, enlighten me." Barok continued his path toward his own desk after gesturing for his assistant to follow him.

"Regarding the question that would be more dependent on a favorable opportunity… would you be willing to discuss fully reinstating my prosecutor's commission with the Lord Chief Justice?" The Japanese man shrugged, a rueful smile on his face. "While I admittedly made my share of mistakes during the single instance in which I performed those duties, as well as in the lead-up to the trial, I'd like to think that I've learned my lesson since then, and that I have proved as much to the members of the British judiciary."

"Of course," Barok agreed immediately, apparently surprising Asogi.

"… To be honest, I half-expected a lecture that I have a long way to go yet, and instructions to ask again at the beginning of next year."

His superior snorted at the statement. "Don't tempt me."

A stray glance toward the wall to the left, where the larger-than-life painting of Klint still loomed over the entire office, instantly doused most of his good humor with the memories of that one instance the man had referred to.

Sighing, he continued, "The mistakes you committed resulted from another series of mistakes committed much earlier, and given that the person responsible for many of said earlier mistakes was not censured nearly as harshly as you were, it's high time that this matter was addressed. Pray forgive me for not considering petitioning for your full reinstatement before you mentioned it."

"Oh. Well… thank you very much in advance." Asogi seemed to want to add something to his expression of baffled gratefulness, but could apparently not come up with the right words.

Rescuing him from his momentary floundering, Barok asked, "Since you brought up the request that wasn't time-sensitive first… what did your second inquiry entail?"

"Ah… as you probably noticed, that one is time-sensitive, although it's a much less weighty matter. I remembered while you were out that I promised Gina – Junior Inspector Lestrade, that is – that I'd meet up with her at the Yard at the end of her shift, so I was wondering if you'd permit me to leave half an hour early to be there in time…"

The accidental mention of the young woman's first name caused Barok's smirk to reappear in short order. "Since we aren't exactly overwhelmed with work today, that won't be a problem – far be it from me to stand in the way of young love."

His airy final statement paid off immediately, as Asogi blushed and stammered, "Erm… that isn't… I mean…"

"Of course it isn't." Chuckling, Barok motioned for him to return to his own desk. "For now, though, let's perhaps focus on our work for a while longer."

They managed to do just that until, about two hours later, an employee of the telegraph office entered the room to leave a missive for Barok.

She told me STOP Leaving decision of whom else to inform at your discretion STOP HS

Raising an eyebrow at the slip of paper, Barok could not help but be impressed by Sholmes's precise wording to avoid clueing any third parties in on the subject of the message – he had even managed to convince the person who had sent it to only give his initials instead of his full name as the sender, even though anonymity was, technically speaking, against regulations.

As for the second sentence… He might be thinking about Albert. The detective would know that Barok was not about to shout this information from every rooftop, but had presumably decided against telling his co-lodger since he assumed Barok would prefer to take care of the matter himself.

Well, that should not pose much of a problem – not only were Albert and Iris thick as thieves, his friend had also recently proved himself to be able to keep his share of secrets. Barok had to admit that learning of Albert readily sharing details about their friendship from a decade ago with Naruhodo had initially left him with concerns that his friend was prone to oversharing information at the drop of a hat, but any such worries had long since given way to the knowledge that they had been misconceptions.

It would likely facilitate communication between the three of them if Sholmes and Iris don't constantly have to tiptoe around the matter while Albert is within earshot.

Resolving that he would either find an opportune moment today, or create one at some point during the weekend, to inform his friend in private, Barok did his best to refocus his attention on the documents lying in front of him.

Shortly after Asogi had taken his leave, he likewise departed – none of the paperwork was so important that it had to be seen to before Monday, and considering that his mind had insisted on wandering multiple times after receiving the telegram, perhaps it was for the best if he took care of it after the weekend, when his concentration would presumably be recovered.

-August 16, 1901-

221B Baker Street

Since he had left the office early, it was only half past four by the time Barok's cab pulled up to the curb in front of the familiar house. After being let inside by Mrs. Huston, who was by now thoroughly accustomed to finding him on her threshold, he made his way up the stairs and knocked on the door of the suite.

A few seconds later, Iris opened it for him, smiling the moment she laid eyes on Barok.

"Hello Barry! You're early today – I'm afraid I haven't quite finished preparing things yet, but please, come in and have a seat!"

Heeding her invitation, Barok glanced around the suite's sitting room while the girl closed the door once more, and was surprised to find neither Sholmes nor Albert present.

"Have your co-lodgers stepped out for some reason?" he inquired.

Iris giggled. "As if Hurley would willingly leave the house while I'm baking! No, he's upstairs helping Bertie with his organic chemistry self-study. If you go talk to them, could you send him down so he can lend me a hand? Bertie should probably stop for today, anyway – he's been at it since lunch!"

"Ah. In that case, please excuse me – I have a chemistry lesson to interrupt."

His gaze was falling on the two men before he had even reached the top of the stairs, as Albert was sitting behind the large desk by the wall shelving and wrote something in a notebook, stopping here and there to think before his hand began moving once more. Sholmes stood next to him to read over his shoulder, half-obscured by a complex-looking series of translucent tubes and beakers, a Bunsen burner heating the largest glass vessel to turn the dark liquid inside into its gaseous form.

The detective was the first to notice Barok. "It appears we have company, Professor Harebrayne."

Albert glanced up from his writing at that, a smile lighting up his face and instantly banishing the slight traces of fatigue from it. Recently, Barok had found it increasingly difficult to tear his gaze away from the open and ready expression of joy his friend displayed upon seeing him – there was a peculiar warmth to knowing that his mere presence imparted a happiness of this magnitude on Albert.

It took him a moment to recall the girl's message for her guardian. "Good afternoon. Mr. Sholmes, Iris stated that she'd like you to join her downstairs to lend her a hand with something."

"Oh…? Well, then I shouldn't keep her waiting. Perhaps she won't begrudge me an early morsel or two if I make myself useful in the kitchen…"

Barok snorted. "It's more likely that you're going to get your fingers swatted if you ask me, but since you will likely not be dissuaded from attempting to claim your spoils, I wish you the best of luck in your endeavor."

"Much obliged my dear fellow. If you would excuse me…"

After a jaunty bow, the detective made his way down the stairs.

Now, Barok stepped closer to the desk, curiously eyeing the experiment setup bubbling and fuming away a mere two feet from Albert's elbow.

"Are you attempting to create something specific with this?"

"Haha, no… Mr. Sholmes put it up to demonstrate how the equations I asked him about earlier today function in practice, but to be entirely honest, I still don't quite understand how to get from the initial substances to the end result on paper…" Albert put his pencil down with a sheepish smile, then reached over to turn the burner off for the time being.

"I'm confident that you'll be able to work it out sooner rather than later," Barok responded, leaning forward to take a look at his friend's notes, but immediately being aware that he did not stand the slightest chance of understanding any of them – he could place the basic element symbols, but the long clusters they formed, studded with an array of subscript numbers and seemingly randomly sprinkled-in brackets and dashes, as well as the mathematical symbols connecting them, were nothing but gibberish to his untrained eye.

"Oh, thank you – Mr. Sholmes has been very patient with my attempts to grasp all of this, but it's lovely to hear such kind encouragement…"

Barok shook his head with a smile. "While I'm glad that you found my statement heartening, I was quite serious when I said that I have complete confidence that you'll be able to keep up with Sholmes as well as other scientists trained in the field very soon. You've always had one of the most brilliant minds I've ever encountered."

At that, his friend blushed and looked away, even though he was obviously tremendously pleased. "Barok…"

The sight was so captivating that Barok, likewise, was lost for words for a long moment. Had Albert's happiness always shown itself in this compelling a manner?

He was not certain how long they remained suspended at this plateau, like a photographic print of a split-second more precious than all of the Crown Jewels combined. It only ended when his friend awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Well, I should probably put this away for now… Iris has been looking forward to your visit all day, so we should go downstairs and see if she's finished with her preparations…"

Albert's mention of the girl finally caused Barok to remember his earlier considerations after receiving the short piece of correspondence from Sholmes.

"Speaking of Iris… there is something you should know."

"Oh?" Whereas Albert had been filled with nervous energy as he had closed his notebook and shuffled some of the items on top of the desk around for want of something to do, he now stilled, his expression expectant as well as a little concerned.

"This is a piece of information she wasn't aware of until about a month ago, which is why I didn't share it with you before," Barok slowly continued, wondering whether he should ease his friend into this particular truth, or whether he should just come out and say it without beating around the bush.

"All right…?" Now, curiosity seemed to win out over worry for Albert, as he cocked his head in expectation of what would follow.

"It so happens that Iris is the biological daughter of Klint and his wife." There really was no good way of leading up to this statement. "I only learned of it after my trial last November, and agreed with those who disclosed it to me that it would be safest for this fact to remain hidden – until she overheard a conversation between me and Sholmes back at the beach house, and decided to confront me about it."

He shrugged, a somewhat helpless, hesitant smile on his face. "Since you're the only person in this suite who has remained in the dark up to now, we thought it would be for the best if you knew, though I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it outside of these lodgings."

"I see." Albert nodded right away, curiously not at all looking surprised.

Barok raised an eyebrow at him. "Somehow, I expected more of a reaction to this item from you."

Now, his friend sent him a smile. "I suppose I already had something of an inkling, considering how close you were by the end of our holiday, and how happy she always is when you come by recently. For what it's worth, I think it's lovely that both of you know now, and that you get to spend time together."

"Needless to say, it happened in no small part thanks to you," Barok responded. "If you hadn't returned to Britain, I might well have kept my distance, as I wasn't certain how to act on this information for the longest time. I'm beyond grateful that things turned out the way they did."

"So am I." Glancing up at him, Albert's smile widened, his eyes closing slightly in an expression of genuine warmth and empathy, and time once again seemed to come to a stuttering halt in a scene that, for all Barok cared, could remain exactly as it was for the rest of eternity.

Naturally, it was not to be, as Sholmes had suddenly reappeared at the top of the stairs. "Iris sent me to come fetch you – she has finished her preparations for afternoon tea. If you'd accompany me downstairs…?"

"Ah… yes, of course." Unsure whether he should be annoyed or relieved that another such moment had come and gone, Barok approached the staircase, hearing his friend's steps coming the same way.

A few minutes later, he had taken a seat on the sofa flanked by Albert to the right and Iris to the left, while Sholmes was sitting in the armchair on the opposite side of the chest doubling as a coffee table.

Alongside the tea, his niece had prepared a spread of finger sandwiches as well as a magnificent Victoria sponge. It would take a good fifteen minutes until either of the four people present spoke up for more than a quiet request to pass the sugar or the cream, Iris happily looking on as the food gradually disappeared from the serving plates.

Eventually, Barok placed his cup back on its saucer and smiled down at the girl next to him. "Delightful as always. Thank you very much."

"You're welcome, Barry!" She returned his smile, hands clasped together in front of her chest.

Across from them, Sholmes cleared his throat, the sudden sound peculiar enough to catch Barok's attention. Once the detective knew his gaze on himself, he nodded minutely toward Albert, his unspoken question readily apparent: Did you inform him while you were among yourselves?

Instead of answering him directly, Barok reached into his inner jacket pocket to withdraw an envelope containing an item he had prepared for Iris.

"Incidentally, I just remembered that I've got something for you." He held it out to the girl, who took it and opened the tucked-in flap to withdraw what was inside, inhaling sharply in surprise when she beheld the photographic print.

"That's…!" She glanced back up at him, her eyes suddenly looking a little watery even though her lips were still forming a smile. "You've had a duplicate made for me?"

"Yes. I thought you should have a copy, for obvious reasons." Barok nodded toward the picture of Klint and Beryl on their wedding day held in her small hands. "Incidentally, I've been notified that you've let Mr. Sholmes in on our private conversation, and Albert is informed as of a short while ago, as well. At least between the four of us, this particular secret is no more."

"Thank you…" Hugging the picture against her chest, Iris moved to kneel on the sofa to kiss his cheek, then looked at Sholmes and Albert. "I'm so happy we all know now – it's much nicer to be able to talk to others about it, isn't it, Uncle Barry?"

"Indeed it is, Iris," Barok readily agreed, gently embracing her with one arm before letting go once more.

"Oh, speaking of photographic prints… excuse me for a moment." With those words, Sholmes rose from the armchair to retrieve a larger envelope from his desk, opening it once he had seated himself once more. "My apologies that it took me a while to have our holiday photographs developed and duplicated – it kept slipping my mind to retrieve them from the laboratory multiple days in a row."

He handed both Albert and Barok two prints each, one of them the image of the sandcastle, the other the one Hall had taken of their group in the front yard shortly before they had taken their leave.

When his friend next to him began chuckling all of a sudden, Barok turned to see what was so amusing, his gaze following Albert's and noticing that Iris had apparently decided that he had required a little additional adornment for the occasion, as she had clandestinely raised her hand behind his head, two slim fingers peeking up above it in an approximation of rabbit ears.

"I presume there was a reason for your choice of gestures?"

The girl nodded immediately, her smile now a little teasing. She reached into the knapsack she usually carried around while out and about and produced a little felted rabbit doll clad in a light brown coat and wearing a deerstalker on its head.

Isn't that the communication device Naruhodo was using during my trial last year…?

"See? Hurley's already a bunny, so I thought you needed some bunny ears too – after all, you're both my family, aren't you?"

Barok snorted. "I don't think I can muster any counterarguments at this juncture."

"In that case, consider these prints an official welcome into the fold – or the rabbit warren, as it were." Sholmes began laughing uproariously at his own approximation of a joke, leaning forward in his armchair and holding his stomach.

Slightly bewildered at the man's sudden outburst of amusement, Barok blinked a few times. "… Thank you, I suppose."

Next to him, Iris whispered, "Don't worry, he'll be finished soon."

Then, she seemed to realize something. "Oh, and there's one more print Hurley tried to hide from you, but I used some of Ginny's tricks to take it and make sure he couldn't throw it out!"

Once again reaching into her knapsack, she pulled out a single photograph, bent a little due to its unusual hiding place but otherwise none the worse for wear.

It was the image Lestrade had apparently taken of Sholmes trying to resist Iris's waking methods on the one morning where such an intervention had been necessary. The man had futilely attempted to use his blanket to shield himself from his ward's attacks, which had seemingly involved jumping right on top of him and straddling him while tickling any part of him she had been able to reach.

The photograph, alongside the memory of the sounds they had been able to hear in the dining room that morning, allowed Barok to envision the scene as though he had been personally present, the mental images enough to make laughter well up inside him. Doing his best to keep the impulse in check, he raised his free hand to his mouth as he passed the print on to Albert, who promptly took one look at the detective and started chortling, the noise in turn laying waste to the remnants of Barok's composure.

Across from them, Sholmes stooped over slightly, his expression one of longsuffering resignation. "Yes, do go ahead and laugh at my ignominy, why don't you?"

"I believe we already are," Barok only just managed to bring out before clamping his hand over his mouth again to stem another wave of laughter.

When both he and Albert had themselves under control once more, he turned back toward his niece. "In case our reaction didn't make it clear, your 'liberation' of this print was much appreciated. Thank you."

"I promised that you wouldn't miss out, didn't I?" Iris sent him an impish grin.

"Besides…" Her gaze wandered over to his friend. "Bertie's been hard at work all afternoon, I thought having a good laugh would help him perk up a bit."

"That it did, Iris – thank you for your consideration," Albert replied with a chuckle. "I'm sure you know from personal experience that organic chemistry can be a little frustrating at times, especially when you're still working on grasping the theory…"

"Oh, but you're doing so well, Bertie!" the girl immediately returned. "You've progressed from the basics to really complex reactions in only two and a half weeks – whatever's difficult for you right now probably won't be anymore by this time next week."

"Haha, Barok told me much the same thing upstairs…" While Albert was not glancing over at him with these words, a fine dusting of red appeared along his cheekbones once more as he spoke.

"See? We all believe in you. You don't need to be so hard on yourself, so please make sure you take a break here and there." Iris was clearly not about to let this opening go to waste.

"I concur with her on all counts." Bolstering her case could only increase the likelihood that his friend would take her words to heart.

"Perhaps I should set my alarm clock to remind me when it's time to leave the desk for a few minutes – oh, but I'd probably forget that after two or three times, too…" Albert smiled sheepishly at both of them while scratching the back of his head.

"Perhaps I should see if it's possible to modify an alarm clock to ring multiple times without having to set it again every time it goes off…" Sholmes muttered, raising his pipe to his lips as he thought.

"Are you still planning to write up documentation for Hurley's forensics inventions?" Iris meanwhile inquired of Albert.

"Well… I think they'd probably be very useful if we put together a proper scientific article with a detailed description of the treated substance's production and mechanism of action, don't you think? I'm sure Barok and his colleagues would be interested in using them if they were peer-reviewed and found to be efficacious as described."

His words gave Barok pause for a moment. Last year, he had argued vociferously against admitting the evidence obtained by Naruhodo through use of these very substances Albert was discussing, but in hindsight, that evidence had proved to be legitimate in light of the truths established in those trials… and of course, part of his contrarian stance had likely stemmed from his shameful animus against Japanese people in general, as well as his less-than-stellar opinion of Sholmes, the dubious hero of a series of short stories and frequent bane of many a Scotland Yard Detective Inspector.

"… Once you produce such articles, would you let me know? I should be able to prevail upon the Lord Chief Justice to convene a panel of Royal Society members to vet the information – after all, London was already meant to be host to an international symposium on forensic science last year, before… well."

"Before its organizer proved himself to have caused the falsification of various pieces of evidence, just like those he claimed to stand against," the detective ended the sentence for Barok, his expression serious for once.

"That's what I've been thinking about all this time," Albert stated quietly. "If there's an easy way for members of law enforcement to use these methods, they wouldn't have to rely on just one examiner who might have been unduly influenced."

Clearly, he still remembered the way Dr. Sithe had attempted to blame him for Odie Asman's death at Enoch Drebber's behest. Personal experience with the shortcomings of the British justice system, and a desire to personally address them if it was within his power – of course he would have poured every ounce of his dedication into this idea.

Aloud, Barok replied to his friend, "I think it would indeed be very helpful if some forensic methodologies could be made available to non-specialists. Once you've produced the necessary documentation and samples, if applicable, to present for scientific review, I'll make arrangements for such a review immediately."

Albert nodded. "You'll know as soon as that's the case."

His determined expression dissolved into surprise when Barok reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "As long as you'll promise me that you'll rest on occasion. As I've mentioned before, I'd rather not see you sacrifice your health to your work, no matter how worthwhile the endeavor."

"You did tell me that a few months ago already, didn't you…?" His friend smiled at him and raised his own hand to place on Barok's. "I promise I'll do my best to take regular breaks."

The warmth of his palm and his closeness once again served to make finding words indescribably difficult for a long moment.

"… I shall have Iris monitor you on that front for me, and intervene the moment you are overextending yourself," he finally managed to state while forcing himself to let go of Albert – somehow, he found himself loath to forgo the physical contact just yet.

… Is something wrong with me today? Am I perhaps taking ill? His ability to concentrate had been markedly lower than usual over the course of the day, especially this afternoon and evening.

"… Of course, I shouldn't comment if I simultaneously neglect my own signs of fatigue – it's been a long week. Pray forgive me for taking my leave already, but I believe it would be for the best if I returned home and got some rest, myself."

"No need to apologize – if you're tired, then you should rest." Iris nodded and leaned in for another hug. "Thank you for coming by, and we'll see you soon."

"Of course." Barok rose, noticing that Albert likewise made to get up – his friend had made a habit out of seeing him to the door whenever one of his visits came to an end.

"Mr. Sholmes…" He nodded over at the detective, who returned his nod.

"Lord van Zieks… until next week."

As per usual, Barok and Albert did not exchange any words while descending the stairs and approaching the front door. Only when they had arrived outside and his friend was holding the door open with his heel in a by-now practiced motion did they turn toward each other again.

"Well… I'll be on my way." With that statement, Barok raised his hand to flag down one of the hansom cabs approaching along Baker Street.

Albert smiled up at him while responding, "Have a good rest once you arrive home – I'll probably take a little nap before dinner, myself."

For some reason, Barok found his gaze drawn to his friend's mouth as he was speaking, tracing the upturned corners and the curve of the lower lip with his eyes. What would it feel like when touched with an ungloved finger? Or with his own lips…?

… Wait.

That final thought was enough to put into stark relief that there might well be a unifying reason behind his mind deciding to wander ever since their return to London… and that said reason was currently standing in front of him.

But… that doesn't make any sense…

His astonished confusion never had a chance to progress beyond that thought, as the cab he had hailed had now come to a halt in front of 221B Baker Street, the horse whinnying and raring to start moving once more. Thankfully, his expression seemed to have frozen in his responding smile – he did not think that Albert had received any visual evidence of his bafflement at himself.

Doing his utmost to not let the smile waver, he belatedly replied, "That sounds like an excellent idea. I hope you, too, have a good rest."

"I'll do my best. Goodbye, Barok – see you soon." His friend showed no signs of having even noticed that yet another long moment had passed without either one of them speaking before returning to the conversation.

With a final nod, Barok turned away from Albert and made to seat himself in the small carriage. After he had told the driver the address and the cab had begun rolling down the street, he leaned back with a sigh, aware that rest was unlikely to be within reach for him for many hours yet.