A/N: Content warning for mention of van Zieks' racism
"As we pass by Baker Street, let us be rid of our packages on our way. If you'll allow me, I'll run them up for you now."
"I can do that, Mr Holmes," I protested as the carriage slowed to a stop in front of 221B.
"No need, I have a few trifles to unload myself, and I would ask you two to remain and keep this hansom occupied to avoid the trouble of calling for another. Right then!" Holmes scampered off with our groceries.
"Oh no, he was in such a hurry that I forgot to hand him some of the pastries," I discovered.
"Never mind, it's only the biscuits. They'll fit easily in my handbag," Susato-san said.
"Are you sure?" I asked, ready and willing to either hold on to them or run them inside once Holmes returned.
"Yes, it's no trouble. Thank you for looking after our shopping all this time," Susato-san replied with her usual warm smile.
No sooner had she settled the biscuits in her deceptively small drawstring purse than Holmes bounded back inside the cab, and we took off again.
"It is a pity we've had no luck in your inquiries into the mysterious fan so far, Mr Holmes," said Susato-san.
"Ah, so you were unable to spot any clues at Covent Garden?" Holmes surmised.
"Well, we thought we had at first, but it fell through." Rather spectacularly and literally, I thought, recalling the bewildering Miss Penelope. "Did you find anything?"
"Nothing definite enough to share, as of yet," Holmes answered with his usual infuriating obfuscation. "No need for worry, these things take time! They require delicacy, and an insight into the mindset of the target." He settled back in the sparse carriage cushioning without a trace of impatience or disappointment. "For example, from this fan, we can surmise that its true owner is a well bred lady, of broad-reaching yet refined tastes, who maintains her personal items with care - excepting her recent misplacement, of course. Ah, here we are."
He rapped on the frame to signal a stop, and continued his train of thought after handing us out and tossing the fare to the driver. "So, let us ask ourselves: in which sorts of places would you, Miss Susato, choose to spend your leisure hours?"
"Me!?" Susato-san started, blinking rapidly.
"Yes, naturally! Other than the trivial circumstance of hailing from another shore, I see no difference between you and any young British gentlewoman. I've met far too many individuals to not realize that most people, regardless of origin or citizenship, are more alike than not. Therefore, it follows that you would be our best inspiration as to where our mystery visitor could be likely to haunt."
"Well, I'm afraid I hardly know," Susato-san demurred, flushing at the frank comparison. "It's a great responsibility, and I hardly feel qualified."
"As I said, you are undoubtedly qualified, but I will allow unprepared," Holmes corrected. "But never fear: in my capacity as the great detective, of course I have taken this into account. That is why I brought us here, so that we may walk whilst observing the passers-by for any likely suspects, and consider together how best to predict the culprit's movements."
I took more note of our surroundings. We were approaching the west bank of the Thames, with Big Ben and Westminster Abbey towering against the skyline; the meticulously maintained grounds of Buckingham Palace were just barely in sight behind us. The surrounding edifices cast imposing shadows, a symbol of their steadfast resilience through the rise and fall of the countless human lives they'd watched over.
They certainly were impressive, all these stone buildings and bridges – the British seemed very fond of them. It reminded me yet again how far we were from Japan. Back home, the things our craftsman poured themselves into, what we cherished and passed down, tended to be much smaller, if no less ornate. It could be range from the grandeur of the emperor's three sacred treasures, to the carved hairpin or exquisite floral print of a girl's kimono, or – I gripped Karuma's hilt - even a battle-honed blade passed down a lineage. I'd always thought that this was the way of island nations, a result of the practicality enforced by flood, fire, and foes constantly beating upon our shores. But England was an island too, and here we were, where the castles outlived even the most cared-for weapon or ornament. I guessed it just goes to show that you never know how others live unless you experience it yourself.
I relaxed my hold on Karuma, and pondered our problem some more. That fan – what was it to our mystery housebreaker? Was it a precious possession, bearing an inherited soul, like the katana at my side? From my impression when we examined it, I didn't think so. It felt more like a tool – a cleverly fashioned and useful one, but still, something you'd rely on rather than be attached to.
A rare break in the clouds allowed the afternoon sunbeams to play over the smartly dressed crowds streaming busily along the pavement and across the bridge, and set the ripples below them twinkling. The entire view took on new hues, as if we'd alighted within a one of those dotty painted scenes that the SS Burya passengers had been arguing over – I couldn't recall what they were called; 'impressionable', maybe? I wondered what sort of picture we'd make: an eccentric Englishman in goggles and trench coat, a young Eastern lady wrapped in pastel hues and perfect posture, and a roving-eyed Japanese student in button-up black and a blade at his side – all surrounded by passers-by most remarkable by their unremarkability. If anyone had been painting that afternoon, they'd probably have left Susato-san and I out as detracting from the local setting. I could remember thinking, back when Asougi first badgered me into tagging along, that at least we'd both fit in with our western-style gakuran uniforms. I was thoroughly disabused of that dream by now. Even just this morning at Covent Garden, even in that mass of humanity, Miss Penelope had picked Susato-san and I out as persons of interest just as easily as a pair of persimmons from a bowl of mikan oranges. Would we ever find a place that we clearly belonged, like Asougi and I had back among all our fellow uniformed students at Yumei? I didn't know, and grew uncomfortable, or maybe homesick thinking about it. So I considered this morning's intruder and our primary task instead: where would they feel they belonged? They came willingly to 221B, but as Holmes was fond of reminding everyone who'd listen, even royalty visited there. Where else could a fan-bearing person – particularly a lady, as Holmes surmised – blend in?
"Well, I'm certainly looking forward to the upcoming exhibition, and hope to spend time there," Susato-san said, as if she'd read my reasoning. We'd been seeing an increasing number of advertisements for it of late, most centred on the Crystal Tower. It was impossible to miss the great steel and glass structure currently growing skeletal-like in Hyde Park. "But as that is still some months away, I'm afraid it won't be helpful."
"Not at all! An excellent start!" Holmes maintained his high good humour, while his keen eyes never left scanning the passing crowd. "What other places have you wished to visit?"
Susato-san hesitated a moment before answering. "To be honest, I have been thinking that I'd like to visit a library," she divulged. "Some English works are difficult to find in Japan. I heard the writer of Treasure Island and Kidnapped has recently published more novels, as well as rumours of a sequel. I should love to find a copy."
"I remember Treasure Island," I interjected. "It was one of the books we read during my English studies at university." I shuddered at a repressed memory. "Actually, I couldn't stop remembering it while I was shut up in the wardrobe on the SS Burya. I finally realized what poor Jim Hawkins felt like in the apple barrel."
"Ha ha ha!" Holmes burst out laughing at my trauma. "Better luck on your next voyage, Mr Naruhodou. Perhaps a client will pay you with the promise of a fantastic treasure."
"I'd settle for a promise of a fair fee," I muttered with a grimace. Our past trials, due to varying circumstances, had resulted in little monetary remuneration. I was reminded of Yumei university yet again, where students often lamented labouring for course credit in lieu of wages.
Holmes' voice drew my thoughts of Japan back to England. "But as far as finding books, I can recommend several local lending libraries to peruse. I visit them often myself, to see how fares circulation of my adventures in the Strand." I should have guessed. "But I digress. Where else do you have interest?"
"There is so much to see and do in London, I'm afraid I'm at a loss to choose," said Susato-san. "Perhaps someplace Iris enjoys would give you an idea?"
"Iris has grown so quickly, that I sometimes think that she outgrows her favourite pastimes faster than her clothes," Holmes said, gazing intently out onto the river with a subdued smile. "It feels like just yesterday that she wished to roam in gardens to classify all the insects. Now, she still loves to visit them, but to make cuttings for propagation. She always has interest in anything that benefits the mind or body, for herself or others."
I tracked the target of Holmes's fixed stare. "Does she like boating?" I asked. There were dozens of people out on the banks and the water, paddling about in the welcome afternoon sunshine. Ducks zipped away from the humans intruding on their naval territory, but flocked in droves to a couple scattering crumbs. The echo of their insistent attention-seeking quacks sounded just like the market vendors all shouting over each other at Covent Garden.
"Indeed she does!" Holmes brightened instantly, as we turned onto a path winding beside the Thames for a better view. "Though often we become distracted by all the flora and fauna to be found in the environs; it's quite fascinating to research."
I peered closer at the water, shielding my eyes with my hand, when Asougi's armband suddenly came loose and slipped off my sleeve.
"Please be more careful, Naruhodou-sama!" Susato-san swiftly retrieved it before it could tumble down the riverbank, while I had remained frozen.
"Sorry! Thank you!" I hastened to refasten it to my gakuran jacket, heart beating fast.
"It seems like your accessories at least are open in their desire for a holiday!" claimed Holmes, laughing at my mishap. "Perhaps we can all make an excursion together later. I am not at all a bad hand at rowing. Though of course, I was always best known for boxing."
Well, if there was ever an activity that our mystery fan-dropper would be unlikely to try, boxing would have to rank high on the list. I scanned the holiday-takers on the riverbanks while my heart rate settled down, but could see no particularly promising lead. It seemed that Susato-san was thinking along similar lines. "Perhaps we'd pick up some clue by inquiring at a shop for fashionable dress accessories, such as the tailors at West End?"
"I don't think so, for now at least," said Holmes. "I'd prefer to avoid any overt moves for the present, but tactics can change if nothing turns up soon."
We sipped at the remains of our rapidly cooling beverages in their insulated flasks, as we strolled along. I noticed that due to the prevailing western breeze, any smell from the river would be blown to the opposing shore. It really was a very nice place for a walk.
After some minutes in companionable silence, Susato-san spoke up. "To be perfectly honest, the single place I hoped to see the most was 221B Baker Street." She smiled softly at the confession. "So, really, every day now is a wish come true. At night in my room, when I can hear you practising on your Stradivarius as the notes drift up through the floor, it's as though I am already in my most wished-for dreams, though I have yet to fall asleep!"
Holmes was appreciably touched. "That is high praise indeed. I am certainly happy if my little ramblings on the strings can engender such appreciation."
"Oh, they are far more than 'little ramblings'!" Susato-san clenched her fists with the strength of her conviction. "When I was a young girl while my father was away, he sent home a gramophone along with a record of violin solos. My grandmother played it for us at night, and I drifted off listening to it, many times." Her words were tumbling out like a flood now. "I am not a music connoisseur by any means - I have only had a little training on the koto, our own country's stringed instrument, but plucked, not bowed - so I could not judge the player's virtuosity. But I dearly loved how expressive and sweet the violin's sound was. And so, I was beyond pleased when I discovered that you also practised it, just as in the stories! And from my limited exposure and memory, I think you are an even more extraordinary performer!"
"Why, my dear Miss Susato, I am blushing!" Holmes indeed was turning quite red, and turned away to cover a sudden coughing fit. I could sympathize, keenly feeling the privilege and rarity of the ever-private Susato-san sharing such a personal memory. "What a glowing review! But if you wish to hear more of such music, you can find some small informal concerts - such as in Covent Garden, where we visited previously. They make up for any lack of formal training with genuine love of their art, as well as hope of a few coins. Perhaps we should all stop by some time. Is there any style or instrument that interests you in particular, Mr Naruhodou?"
"Ah, no, none comes to mind!" I jumped at being called back into the conversation so suddenly. "I do like hearing others play, pretty much anything. I've never learnt myself though." I slowed as a memory drifted back. "At university, Asougi once dragged me into a class for the new music department. They shoved some sort of hollow wooden thing with a bamboo chip strapped to it into my mouth, and told me to blow into it as hard as I could. Then, they made me bang sticks on drums and some pot lid-looking things too. They told me that I had good lung capacity, but that my sense of rhythm was abysmal."
"That sounds like Asougi-sama," Susato-san sighed fondly. "He always tried to enrich and encourage those he cared about."
"Yes, he did." Though I hoped he had gone about encouraging and enriching a little more gently with Susato-san.
"He sounds like a wonderful friend," said Holmes. "I'm sorry for your loss, dear fellows, and that I didn't have a chance to properly make his acquaintance."
"Thank you. I'm sorry too," I said. Susato-san simply smiled at him, then looked away, blinking rapidly.
It wasn't much of a response for Holmes's kind words, but what could we say? We both missed Asougi, a great deal. I think the frantic craziness of the past several weeks had pushed his death from our conscious thoughts most of the time; that, in combination with numbness from shock. But throughout this day's outings, a renewed awareness of Asougi's absence had been slowly creeping upon us. It started with my protective grasp of his sword Karuma while wandering Covent Garden market, and grew even more with my near loss of his attorney armband during our current stroll along the Thames. Now, merely mentioning his name aloud reminded us of him in a way we hadn't processed yet. Here we were, experiencing such new marvels across London without the tight deadline of a trial looming over us, but it still couldn't feel quite right. Both Susato-san and I had always thought the one we'd be exploring London and making new memories with would be our close companion Asougi, not each other.
I had to admit now that what I'd been feeling was more than homesickness. Each time we met someone, or discovered a new British custom, or tried some food for the first time, we couldn't help but think: what would Asougi have thought of them? Would he have been as confused by that tradition as I was? Would he have liked that pie even more than me, and asked for seconds? And now we'd never know.
I guess what it amounted to is, while I would always be grateful to have Susato-san, and now Holmes and Iris, as my friends beside me, it didn't mean that I wanted Asougi right there too any less. And I'm sure Susato-san felt the same.
"Ah, I see we've arrived at just the right time." I was dragged from my somber musings yet again by Holmes. He had stopped behind a tall imposing tower and was sneaking glances around it. I had been so concentrated on our search and then my own thoughts during our walk that I hadn't even thought to wonder if we had a particular destination. I now realized we had turned away from the Thames and made our way back south along Parliament Street. "I'm afraid I must leave you both here yet again, and depart on a secret mission of my own. I will return to pick you up; you can head out front at exactly 3:42 pm. In the meantime, it would be a great help to me if, while I am away, you could go up and keep the man occupied, as well any visitors he may receive during your audience."
"What man? Where are we?" I cast about for any markings on the building before us, but it appeared that we were facing the rear entrance, and thus there were none.
"Why, Lord Stronghart, naturally! Have you not been here many times before?"
"Not from this direction," I answered. Now that I knew what the building was, I could see that it was indeed the Supreme Court. We'd always approached from the west and been in such a hurry each time that we'd been called to see the Lord Chief Justice. I hadn't realized until now how near it was to where we'd been walking.
"In any case, I'd be supremely grateful if you would refrain from mentioning our current little investigation whilst you are inside," Holmes added.
"But what should we speak with him about then?"
"I'm sure that you'll think of something," said Holmes with unfounded confidence. "Cheerio!" Before we could say another word, he'd disappeared.
"Oh dear, this is all rather sudden," Susato-san murmured as we ascended the flight of stairs inside to reach the judicial offices.
"I doubt Lord Stronghart will be available immediately at such short notice anyway, so we should have some time to figure out a topic at least," I reassured her.
Upon being shown in through the Chief Justice office's ponderous doors, my positive outlook was proven as baseless as Holmes's.
"Ah, it's you two. Welcome." Lord Mael Stronghart's piercing pale blue eyes flashed at us briefly before returning to his winding pocket watch. "I have not been expecting you, but as it seems that my appointment for this hour has decided not to show, I can spare you the time."
"We're sorry for the disruption to your schedule," said Susato-san politely.
"It is lamentable," agreed Lord Stronghart. "I merely asked the patent office for the past year's applications in order of possible interest to forensics. They'd been laudably punctual at our previous meeting earlier this morning too, when I requested that they collate the data."
"That is unfortunate." I hoped Sustato-san meant for the patent office workers.
"But fortunate for you, as it turns out. What brings you here today?"
"We actually happened to be in the area, while out with Sherlock Holmes," I said, anxious to avoid any suspicious silence. Holmes hadn't said we couldn't mention him anyway, just what he was up to.
"That is a name that is also overdue in regards to the patent office," said Lord Stronghart sternly. He clicked his pocket watch shut. "I keep hearing rumours of wondrous new tests the man has supposedly devised that may be used to narrow suspect lists. Yet I am told he has still to submit an application for a patent. Next you see him, please inform him to rectify this promptly."
"We'll be sure to do so," Susato-san answered. The more luck to her; Holmes doing anything I asked that he did not already wish to do would be a first. Maybe if Iris asked, or started submitting herself? Her insulated bottles would be revolutionary.
"I heard that you visited the jails earlier today in that man's company," continued Lord Stronghart. For such a super-humanly busy man, he was always equally well-informed. "You met with that smuggler, Captain Frey Booter, did you not? He would not be my first choice for your next client, but if you insist upon it, I suppose I could allow…"
"Um, no, that's not it!" I interrupted.
"It's not?" Lord Stronghart popped his watch face open again and resumed winding. "Then what business brings you to my office?"
Susato-san and I glanced at each other. "Books!" I blurted. "Susato-san has been looking for a particular book. Isn't that right, Susato-san?"
"Yes." Susato-san took up the thread without a fumble. "You have such a fine collection, that we were sure that if it's to be found anywhere, it would be here."
"Of course!" Lord Strongheart threw open his arms, startling a small flock of pigeons into flight across the enourmous clock backdrop. Not for the first time, I wondered if they were Lord Strongheart's pets, or if they'd just wandered in by mistake. Keep your spirits up, birds! We'll make it out eventually!
"My office library includes a vast range of subjects, since one never knows what obscure knowledge may prove vital in a trial. Bring any book you wish to borrow to my desk, so that I may make a record of it." Lord Stronghart swung his ornamental cane to rest in his opposing palm with a decisive air. "Now, which subject are you looking for? The library is organized by an ingenious system for every nonfiction category imaginable."
"Oh, nonfiction only?" I asked.
"Naturally," Lord Stronghart stated. "Fiction is hardly relevant to our profession. So, where can I direct you, judicial assistant Mikotoba?"
"Music, please." Nice save, Susato-san!
"Excellent. It is admirable of you to further your education during your time here, in not only law but any aspect pertinent to cultural exchange. Do you wish to learn more about instrumental music, or perhaps choral?"
"Instrumental, if you'd be so kind." Susato-san and I hurried after the chief justice as he strode deeper into the stacks; they populated his office like forests on the outskirts of a lord's manor. I guessed her thoughts circled back to our earlier discussion, because she asked, "Do you play any instrument, Lord Stronghart?"
"I've had little time for such things, but did audit a class in conducting in my younger days," said he. "I am glad I did. I consider a rudimentary knowledge of group performance a minimum for a well-rounded academic. Ah, here we are." He stopped in front of a tightly packed shelf identical to all its neighbours, and motioned us toward it with a grand sweep of his hand. "Help yourselves." So saying, he strode off back to his desk and began reviewing the papers stacked neatly upon it.
We explored the shelves in silence, retrieving a book, flipping through its pages, replacing it, and repeating. For some minutes, the only sounds in the room were the slide of paper, the scratching of Lord Stronghart's pen, and the cavernous creak of the giant clock's gears looming above our heads. The repetitive noises lulled me into a meditative mood, but at the same time, made me anxious.
"There's no need to be so jumpy. Lord Stronghart's not going anywhere," Susato-san broke the quiet with a whisper.
"Oh! No, that's not what was worried about," I answered in a similar low volume. I could see the tip of his swirled forelock peeking above the shelves if I stood on tip-toe. His desk really was elevated, again like a lord's castle set on a hilltop clearing.
"What then?" Susato-san kept her finger marking a page she'd been perusing with considerable interest; I could see the illustration of a large stringed frame captioned 'HARP' peeking from beneath.
I glanced behind me again. "Every time we come here, I keep thinking someone will pop up behind us from these side passages." I nodded towards the mirrored red-carpeted corridors that extended crosswise from the path to the chief justice's desk, just before the flanked suits of empty armour.
"You shouldn't worry so much. No-one's done that each time we've come before. And if they did, we should hear them," said Susato-san reasonably. "Is that really all that troubles you?"
I hid my face behind the book I held, and tried to put my feelings into words. This current respite had made me drift back into my earlier stream of reflection. Namely, regarding Asougi.
So many people had entered my life since Asougi had left it. And each one had in their own way reminded me of him who I'd cared for like a brother, as if I was meeting and getting to know him all over again. Susato-san's quiet yet unbendable strength of character and explorer's heart; Holmes' impetuosity and flashes of genuine brilliance; Iris' loyal and generous spirit; Gina's reckless bravado; Gregson's hunger for recognition of his true aptitude; even Lord Stronghart's enthusiasm for improving oneself and one's abilities. I was a better person for meeting all of them, and was proud and grateful to count them as my friends - well, the first three at least; the last was my superior and more a figure of respect than friendship. And the remaining two we were still working on.
But for some reason, there was one other person that struck me the most each time I encountered him, like a pale image of Asougi's ghost waiting for me here across the ocean. His relentless drive, his self-confidence backed by true ability, and sheer talent for and dedication to the law; even the manner of our first meeting as a form of competition reminded me of my friend. But so unlike Asougi, Lord Barok van Zieks remained scorning and distant, and very obviously had no intention of relenting, as iron-souled as his sturdy shoes. And honestly, it hurt.
I could never ask for a better, kinder, or more worthy friend than Susato-san, and now Holmes and Iris; I could only hope that they could feel the same about me one day. It wasn't as though I needed or could ask for anyone else to make me belong in this new life I'd landed in. And admittedly, making overtures of friendship had landed me in hot water before - consider the whole reason I'd secreted myself for weeks in a tiny wardrobe on the SS Burya, and even further back, my simply greeting a professor leading to my being accused of his murder. But on the other hand - if I'd made any of those choices differently, I would've never had the opportunity to see London with my own eyes, nor make the friends I had now. What would my life be like if I'd never known Susato-san, Holmes, or Iris? And, though I knew it to be a foolish thought – I can't control others' choices, after all - what would my life be like if van Zieks was my friend too? How different would both our lives be, if he'd just open up his heart a little?
But that was all a bit too personal, not to mention embarrassing, to voice aloud, even to Susato-san. What to say instead? "I was wondering if Lord van Zieks played anything," I finally settled for.
"Hmm, that man?" Susato-san accepted my roundabout answer with her usual calm concentration. "That's a good question. I wonder myself. Do you think he'd prefer a wind instrument, or a string instrument?"
I still felt a bit grumpy from my private thoughts about the 'hallowed chalice'-crushing menace, so I said, "Is there anything that's played by completely destroying it? I think that would be his perfect match."
"Not that I'm aware of, no. But if there is, it would surely suit you best, my learned friend."
We both shrieked and whirled around to face the new speaker.
"L-l-l-lord van Zieks," I stuttered. "We didn't hear you come in."
"That much is obvious." He sneered down his nose at me from behind his lifted cape. He was ensconced in the gloom of the dim side passages we'd been noting earlier, just like how I worried would happen. I struck by how much the grim noble resembled a lurking bat. "You would be better served by searching for a biography of a notable attorney," van Zieks intoned. "If you can find one, of course. Defense attorneys never amount to much. I cannot recall even a single previous opponent's name."
"Lord Barok van Zieks, what a surprise." Lord Stronghart abandoned his desk work to join our conversation. "Don't worry, I still haven't yet assigned Mr Naruhodou a new client."
"That's not why I came." Van Zieks grimaced as if the very notion pained him. "My business is not pressing; it can wait until they have left." He flung his cape open with a dramatic gesture. "I'm certain they wouldn't be wasting time on frivolous pursuits when they have so much legal studies to catch up on." Ah, this familiar feeling from the courtroom again: impotent fury at how little I could say in response, since he technically had a point.
"Ah, right. Have you selected a volume, judicial assistant Mikotoba?" asked Lord Stronghart, pivoting towards her.
"Yes, thank you. I'd like to read more of this one." Susato-san handed the book she was holding to the chief justice. Looking at the time, I guessed she had decided on it earlier, but had been prolonging her perusal in service of our mission; we still had nearly a quarter hour left.
"An excellent introduction. Feel free to borrow another once you have finished this one," Lord Stronghart said as he brought it to his desk.
"You're very kind." Susato-san glanced sidelong at our newly acquired hanger-on as we followed the chief justice. "Do you have any recommendations for books on music, Lord van Zieks?"
"Pray forgive the discourtesy, but I have little interest in such inconsequential matters," he said dismissively. Why did I ever want to make friends with this man again?
"Nonsense. Didn't you play the oboe at Cambridge?" Lord Stronghart wrote with short swift strokes in a ledger before handing the book back to Susato-san. "I keep an interest in the accomplishments of my judiciary members."
Van Zieks took a moment before answering. "… I did play it, at Eton. I took up the cello at university."
"Those are arguably the most difficult wind and string instruments, according to what I've just read," Susato-san murmured at my ear.
"Of course they are," I muttered sourly.
"You should attend a concert together," Lord Stronghart declared. "European music has a rich history, and is spreading fast among all classes and climes, making it a useful field of study. You would provide a reliable source of knowledge for our cultural exchange guests, and it may even reignite your interest in the art." He pointed his cane at our dumbfounded faces. "You should make plans together now."
We all had difficulty forming a response, most likely due to trying to form a mental image of voluntarily spending an evening in each other's company. At least, that's what I was doing. It wasn't as unpleasant as I feared at first, once I considered that conversation was discouraged during music, and that van Zieks was at his most bearable when not talking, particularly to me.
"I don't think we could in good conscience trouble Lord van Zieks for such a reason, my Lord," Susato-san ventured.
"Yes, I'm sure we're all far too busy for something so frivolous." I was pleased with myself with how I re-aired the prosecutor's previous dig.
Lord Stronghart was unmoved by our excuses. "I do not consider an activity that builds rapport between the judicial branches to be frivolous."
Van Zieks himself was far more blunt. "I decline." He didn't even bother preceding it with his usual insincere 'Pray forgive the discourtesy'; I took the 'you Japanese' afterwards as understood. Unless he meant just me. I still wasn't entirely sure which he had a problem with.
"You're far too unsociable," Lord Stronghart frowned at the prosecutor. "Perhaps you need a judicial assistant also. I suppose I'll have to look into assigning you one."
"Will the Saturday after next suit you?" van Zieks asked with considerable effort.
Susato-san blinked at him and consulted her perennial notebook. "I believe so, yes."
"Perfect." Lord Stronghart tapped his cane upon the carpet with a muffled thud. "Is there anything else?"
We both snuck a glance above him to the expansive clock face that formed the back wall of the office. It revealed the time had gone barely five past the half hour mark. How to stall them both for the remaining minutes before Holmes' deadline?
"I actually wished to ask you, do you have books on baking?" Susato-san saved the situation with her improvisation yet again.
"I believe so. What is baking but chemistry in the kitchen?" Lord Stronghart declaimed rhetorically.
"I shall return later," van Zieks announced.
Before he could make good on his decision, I shouted "Hold it!"
All three looked at me incredulously. Even a few of the hidden-away birds flapped about, as if unsure if they had been cued or not.
"We're not at court, Naruhodou-sama," Susato-san reminded me with her usual concerned solicitude.
"I know, it's just force of habit." At this point, I pretty much associated the Old Bailey with its Reaper, since I'd only ever seen one with the other. At least I hadn't pounded on Lord Stronghart's desk or anything. "What I mean is, um, we'd really appreciate it if you could stay just a few minutes, Lord van Zieks."
"Yes, that would be a great help. We know you have a refined palate, and value your opinion." Good job using his wine-swirling snobbery against him, Susato-san!
"If I must." Van Zieks' forbidding glare over folded arms looked anything but gracious. He must've really wanted to avoid getting a judicial assistant.
"The main point is, erm…" I tried to radiate encouragement to Susato-san as she faltered; the clock had now reached thirty-five. Just seven more minutes! "Yeast breads or soda breads?"
"What?" Though van Zieks was the one who spoke, both he and Lord Stronghart appeared equally nonplussed. Even I had to admit it sounded half-baked, but it wasn't like any other topics rose to mind.
"I mean, which is preferable?" Susato-san soldiered on. "Coming from a land where where rice is used almost exclusively in place of wheat, I find the process fascinating. I know you may have an affinity for yeast raised, with your interest in fermentation, Lord van Zieks, but you must admit that soda-based rising has its merits also!" She was really warming up to her subject now. Was this an example of that legislative technique known as filibustering? If only I could use it in court.
"Why, we have just visited the most delightful bakery this morning, and I could not tell you which was superior: their moist, aromatic cake, or their buttery cream buns still fresh from the oven. How can one choose between the way an airy cake melts in your mouth, or the slight chewy texture and lingering warmth of a yeast bun?" I didn't know. I was sure any bakery would love to have Susato-san write their advertisements for them, though. "When I consider all the pies, pastries, flans, and biscuits that -"
She was interrupted by a low rumble, and we both involuntarily cowered, thinking that the chief justice had finally had enough. But he was still waiting silently, while regarding the true source of the noise.
"Lord van Zieks?" Susato-san ventured cautiously. "Are you… hungry, by any chance?"
"Absolutely not," he growled. His waistcoat echoed him with a growl of its own.
"Objection!" I pointed my finger and yelled before conscious thought could intervene. "The witness' last statement clearly contradicts the evidence!" I froze in that position once my actions caught up with me. Perhaps I really had been practising too much lately.
"Objection sustained," said Lord Stronghart, his demeanour as implacably solemn as ever. The role of presiding judge fit him well. Whatever else came of this, at least we could say we managed to succeed as a distraction.
"This is absurd!" Van Zieks shielded his face in affront. "Where's your proof?" Didn't that make him twice as absurd, first by going along with it; second, by expecting us to produce his stomach growl on command?
"I wouldn't call this evidence precisely…" Susato-san rummaged within her handbag for a small wrapped object. "But would you accept this?" She withdrew one of the colourful biscuits from that morning and presented it to van Zieks.
"It is hardly necessary," he gritted with ill grace. I supposed I should be grateful he didn't rave that it was an outrage and axe-kick Lord Stronghart's desk. I almost wished he would, just to witness to the chief justice's reaction.
"It would make us very happy if you would take it, my lord," Susato-san insisted, thrusting it out further. I doubted making us happy fit on van Ziek's list of priorities at all. From this angle, I could see the biscuit was one with an animal face drawn on in jam.
"I am loathe to deprive you, considering the level of cuisine I am accustomed to, and your eloquence on the subject of simple biscuits and suchlike," claimed van Zieks haughtily.
"Oh, that's no trouble at all!" Susato-san smiled at him encouragingly. "It turns out that I have an odd number to divide among the household, so you'd be doing us a favour." Her slipping those biscuits to Gina probably did make the number uneven.
"I'm sure that small hurdle won't daunt my learned friend," the prosecutor insinuated with a cutting glance in my direction.
Before I could do more than bristle, Susato-san said frankly, "Oh, no, if anyone would claim the odd last biscuit, it would definitely be Mr Holmes."
"Accept it, Lord van Zieks," said Lord Stronghart abruptly. "Your stomach is most distracting; it clashes with the gears' rhythm." We both glanced up at the connected clock; we were so close now! "I'll even waive my order to attend a concert together if you do."
Van Zieks finally allowed Susato-san to place the biscuit in his pale hands. He stared at it with an ominous expression; the shiny preserve eyes on the biscuit stared innocently back.
"It does you no good just by looking at it," prompted Lord Stronghart impatiently. "Eat it, man."
Cornered at last, van Zieks obeyed – first with a single reluctant nibble, then two larger bites in quick succession.
Long before we could fully appreciate the sight of the terrible Reaper chewing on a bright pink jaunty-eared child's sweet, the giant clock hand slid to the forty-two mark. "I'm afraid we must be going," Susato-san announced. "Please take care, my lords."
Before Lord Stronghart could manage anything beyond a polite nod and van Zieks an enraged glare with his mouth full, we made our escape. As we rushed down the stairs, I suddenly recalled an idiom I had heard: the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Well, I sincerely doubted such mundane tactics would work on a bloodless creature like the Reaper of the Bailey anyway. It was high time that I gave up on him. If I could recreate that sense of belonging I felt back at university with Asougi once again some day whilst staying at 221B - not as fully as its true occupants, of course - that would be good enough for me.
In the meantime, it had been good to share our memories of Asougi together. I'd have to remember to thank Holmes later, for both causing the opportunity, and for his sympathetic words. It had ached, as I'd feared, but it had also helped. I hoped it had also helped Susato-san. She'd never discussed it with me, but I got the impression that she'd known Asougi longer than I had, or at least a different side of him. So whatever grief I felt, she must have experienced just as or even more keenly. Maybe she'd want to talk about it with me sometime, or anything else we remembered about our friend. I'd have to ask her later.
We exited the building, and found a familiar figure just alighting from an hansom at the base of the steps.
"Mr Holmes! You're here already!"
"Naturally! I said I'd be here at 3:42, did I not?" said Holmes as he followed us inside the cab. "So, how did your audience go?"
"Very well, fortunately." Susato-san answered with considerably more tact than I would have by not appending 'no thanks to you'. That had been almost as nerve-wracking as appearing in court. I could feel my earlier feelings of gratitude melting away rapidly at the recollection. "Lord Stronghart says that he looks forward to your patent applications."
"Ha ha ha!" Holmes laughed heartily. "That has been slipping my mind lately. I'll have to ask Iris to look into peer reviews with those scientific society friends of hers."
"I'm surprised you haven't already done so long ago, to be honest. All your discoveries are truly brilliant, it seems a waste to not share them." As well as a break with his usual attention-seeking behaviour.
"So many things constantly sprout in my thoughts, some inevitably get left by the wayside," Holmes explained. "Dates, numbers, names, measurements, peer reviews, I can write down for later and forget. But of course I do try to remember things I can't write down. Like faces, for example." He lifted his index finger in the air to emphasize his claim. "I make a point to never forget a face." He'd mentioned something like that before when we'd first met him, hadn't he? Too bad he hadn't caught a glimpse of whoever had broken into 221B this morning.
"You seem pleased; did your errand go well?" Susato-san asked.
"Tolerably so," Holmes said with an enigmatic smirk. "And were you able to occupy the chief justice's other guest?"
"Yes, Susato-san fed him a bat biscuit," I said.
"It was a cat!" Susato-san was aghast enough to pause in settling her new book loan on the seat beside her. "It had whiskers!"
"Oh, those weren't bony wings?" That actually made more sense, from a target audience perspective. "Too bad, a bat would have suited him."
Holmes chuckled. "Yes, I can see the resemblance."
"You even knew it was Lord van Zieks?" See, you thought he's just like a bat too, Susato-san!
"I happened to see him entering the Supreme Court when we arrived, and deduced he would stop to meet with the chief justice before departing," Holmes revealed. "You both performed to perfection, my dear fellows. Now, it is time to return to the flat, where I suspect we shall find Iris returned and ready to convene for tea. I have a feeling that we are drawing closer to solving our little mystery!"