Whatever happened to Madame Zhao

„I resolved/ not to defer; hunger and thirst at once/ powerful persuaders, quickened at the scent/ of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen."

Paradise Lost

Mr. Holmes and Uncle John returned in daylight, or rather, when daylight just threatened to give up the ghost. I had removed my things to the former nursery, so Uncle John should have the use of the guest room, and waited for the men to come home.

I was still unsure about the meaning of Holmes' trip to town, emerald tie and all. Also, the presence of Uncle John, much as I welcomed it, seemed to require some explanation. If Holmes had felt uncomfortable with me on our journey here, now there was Mrs. Hudson to act as a buffer when our tempers rose, or worse, a twisted sense of mutual attraction established itself between us.

So there had to be more to the recent developments. I asked the landlady for her sewing things, stitching away by the fire until I heard their voices in the entrance. Mr. Holmes was laughing, and altogether, they seemed to be in the best of spirits. Splendid.

I rose to stand next to the fireplace, hands folded in front of my skirts. When the men came in, no doubt in search of a smoke and the comfort of easy chairs, their laughter died. A brief silence fell, during which I took care neither to move nor to speak.

„Fanny!" Mr. Holmes finally called out. He seemed drunk with fresh air and the company of his best and only friend, but he was becoming sober swiftly under my earnest gaze. „We had been wondering where you had concealed yourself. Why didn't you take advantage of these last rays of sun? We'll experience a painful shortage of those before long."

I ignored him. „I moved your things to the guest room, Uncle John, and I built a fire. Hopefully you'll be comfortable there."

„Thank you, my child." Smiling his cautious smile, Uncle John removed his gloves and put them on Holmes' overflowing work desk.

I felt they wished me gone, away from their exclusively male sphere of calm and comfort. It was a nuisance having me here, an inhibition to their talk, their reciprocal candour. Holmes' hand was hovering over the whisky decanter, uncertain whether to go ahead or to make concessions to the female society. Uncle John sat uncomfortably on the edge of the desk, as though the club seat seemed inappropriate as long as I remained standing. They made me want to laugh.

However, I had no regard for their visible discomfort. Loudly and clearly, I said: „Well? What now?"

Uncle John fidgeted on his inconvenient seat. Holmes abandoned the decanter, and slowly turned around to face me. The glow of the fire lit up his face, the insinuation of a smile that tugged the corners of his mouth.

I crossed my arms. „Don't ye try beating about the bush. I would like ter know why the three of us are here tonight, and what yer intentions are as regards the investigation o' the case - my case, you might say, for I may well be the closest acquaintance Madame Zhao can claim in all o' Europe. I trust it is wiv some justification that I ask to be ta'en into yer confidence."

Mr. Holmes' smile broadened, and after all, he reached for a tray with glasses on it, and placed it next to the decanter. „Fanny…."

„Holmes!" Uncle John gave him a reproachful glance, lifting an eyebrow. „Didn't we agree…?"

„No, no, it must be tonight, Watson. As you see, your former warden is no longer someone you can keep under your control and protection all of the time. If she asks for our confidence, I do believe she has a claim to it, and delaying for another day will, I am afraid, not change the facts."

I did not exactly follow him, as they had to all intents and purposes had a preceding discussion in private, but I forbore to speak, for the tenor of his words seemed to acknowledge my wish to be confided in. Also, Uncle John gave up his protest, and with a frown looked on as his best friend poured whiskey into three glasses, and passed them around.

I have rarely been offered a strong drink by a gentleman - but the occasion had a feel not of celebration, but rather, of anticipating something dark, of bracing ourselves for what was to come. But what was it? What could it be?

Holmes raised his glass in silence, and as we followed his example, my eyes met his. I thought I saw - well, maybe not approval, but perhaps acceptance. His words had not been void, he did recognize my rights. It did me a world of good to see that.

The three of us drank in silence, as though we had just taken a solemn vow of some sort. For a passing moment, I wondered whether I had been wise to press whatever was coming now…somehow, it felt like there was no going back from this point, like having committed to something greater than anyone of us was able to realize on their own.

„Frances", Mr. Holmes said, set down his glass and slowly stepped into the middle of the room. It seemed smaller with him in it, his head only a few inches from the low ceiling of the old cottage. „You spoke of investigating the case of your missing friend - the case of the orb. Well, I can tell you here and now; it does not need more investigating. I have solved it, and I believe I solved it a while ago. Only, I had not been brave enough to admit it…I…hoped I were seeing snakes…"

He paused to bite his thumb, and with rising alarm I recognized how nervous he was - Sherlock Holmes afraid! What foe could possibly be so great, so terrible, as to bring about this result? Who but a Professor Moriarty, risen from the dead, had the power to inspire this man with something even akin to fear?

I clawed my hand around my glass, astonished on some remote level of my conscience that it didn't break. My mouth formed the words a couple of times ere I found the breath to quietly say: „Tell me! I wanna know all, I do. Please."

He drew his brows together, and flashed me another smile. „Alright. I will recount to you the events as they fell, from the beginning. And I will tell them from the perspective of Madame Zhao, a woman, I came to believe, not only of a sharp eye, but incredible fortitude."

He spread his long hands, whose pallor was alleviated by the reflection of the fire, taking a moment to collect himself. Then he started talking again, in a low, calm, matter-of-fact tone.

„It is four weeks hence that Madame receives the King's Orb for restoration after the attack on it in the Louvre. The golden band around its midst is dented, and a few precious stones have come off. It is not professionally a great challenge for Madame, who has carried out much more difficult tasks in her time. But the honor is great, she is aware of that, and the trust put in her person by the government, almost immeasurable."

„Madame works on the Orb every day at home, in her workshop. Her commissioners have seen to it that she is lavishly equipped with all the materials she can possibly need for restoration - gold, pearls, gems. Madame is acutely vigilant. She probably takes the treasure with her when going out, hidden on her person. One day on her way home from the shops or the market, she thinks she can see someone following her."

„Madame is not quite sure. She takes extra care during the following days, going out for short trips into Montmartre. Her suspicions prove correct. There is not only the one, but there are several men shadowing her. She never sees them close up, they keep their distance. Only one of them she can identify, because he walks pidgeon-toed."

„The men begin to loiter in her street. They begin to be less discrete, they follow her more and more obviously. Madame knows they can only have one objective: The gem in her possession. So she makes a plan. Staying up late one night, she uses her provisions to fashion a second orb - not good enough to fool anyone who knows the original, but with a similitude that could deceive a lay person."

„Now that a counterfeit is created, the real orb has to disappear. But how? The followers have become so intrusive madame is hesitant to leave her apartment at all. She has reason to believe that even her mail is being ransacked. Then one day, she is in luck. Her friend, a young tailor's employee, drops by. She does not want to get her into danger, so she forbears imparting knowledge or sharing her anxieties. Much rather, she conceals the orb in a gift that is pressed on the unwitting young friend - a gift she knows is little welcome in itself and will remain unopened till doomsday."

„With the real orb hidden away, madame is free to think about her own safety. She makes up her mind to call on the police, more especially M. Simon, who together with the government officials, has delivered the King's Orb into her keeping. At the Surété, she is allowed into his office, but before the interview begins, the two are interrupted. André Dulage pops in to make some report or other to his superior. Afterwards, Madame Zhao makes a quick excuse for coming, and leaves the Surété in a hurry. During the short interview, she has noticed one thing: Superintendent Dulage is walking pidgeon-toed."

„André Dulage!" It burst from my lips before I could check myself. He motioned me to maintain silence, and continued:

„She recognizes him as one of the men who are following her. Madame is frightened. She realizes the police is not to be trusted. She determines to lay a false trail for them: She manages to get the counterfeit into the keeping of her cab driver, who shall hide it at St. Lazare train station for her. With a clever trick, she herself escapes the grasp of the pursuers."

„Now the last part of the game is to get somebody on the trail of the false orb. As soon as it is discovered, so she hopes, the public will be informed and the criminal schemer behind this conspiracy will stop looking for it. Or the schemer will find it himself, and be fooled by it. All this is in case that she herself should disappear - which she knows she probably will, sooner or later."

„So what does she do? She makes contact again with the young tailor. She meets her in public, so that her pursuers can overhear all she tells her - no information shall pass on to her friend alone, lest she be jeopardized by it. Madame drops mysterious allusions to health, and to St. Lazare. Her hope is that the pursuers will be put on the trail of the false orb - whereas her friend Fanny will take her hints at health and tea drinking as an occasion to open the unwanted present, and find what is hidden within."

„Then comes the night when the followers take hold of her. It has been two weeks since Madame received the Orb. She is alone in her flat. The fight is quick and easy. Even so, the intruders play havoc with Madame's flat, in search of the Orb that is no longer there. Madame refuses to tell where she has hidden it. So they take her with them, to the lair of their master. And there she still is, as we wish to believe, hale and alive."

I gasped. Uncle John, however, seemed little moved. He must have heard this whole revelation before me. But to me, confronted with it like this, it seemed incredible.

„But - the police!" I stammered. „Who on earth could have the power to command the Sûrété? Politicians, maybe? Do you think Félix Faure has something to do with it?"

„No." He shook his head. „Besides, I doubt the whole of the Sûrété is involved in the conspiracy. It is just a fraction, namely the men around Simon, that has been corrupted."

„Still!" I protested. „These men are select. They go through a process of screening and filtering. Their loyalties have been put to the test a hundred times. It is just not thinkable they would betray the authorities!"

„Perhaps", Holmes opined, scrutinizing his nails squint-eyed, „The Sûrété would be well advised to introduce the hundred and first test of loyalty in the future."

„I, too, found it hard to believe at first, child", Uncle John sailed in to even out the way into acquiescence for me.

„No, no, I can't believe it." In frustration, I ran my hand to my loosely hanging hair. I had to think of André Dulage, that nice, good-looking young man, of whom the girls at Madame Martinez' said that he was my suitor…

„Holmes, you must be mista'en. You would need a lot o' money, a lot o' power, a lot o' persuasiveness to woo these men away from their sworn allegiance. Whom could you imagine that has such capacities, and that is crazy enough to employ them for the sake of a little ball with gems stuck on it?"

„Frances!" He hissed. „It is not the gem we are talking about! At least not for its own sake, but it actually constitutes infinitely more than its material value. It is a national symbol! Taking it away from its lawful possessor - „

„Wait!" I raised my index, excited with a sudden idea. „When you went up to London yesterday, in yer morning suit and with an emerald pin in yer tie….did you pay a visit to the Orb's, well, lawful possessor?"

He remained silent, but inclined his head solemnly.

I exhaled deeply. „So you fink there is actually someone who hates her enough to do this to `er?"

„To her…and to me, for this person knows I would be commissioned with the Orb's recovery, and wants to see me fail miserably. That you would come into play probably was nothing he had forseen; putting your friend to harm is just an agreeable side effect from his point of view."

My face was distorted with abhorrence. „Who is it?"

The men traded a quick glance. Holmes nodded, and Uncle John quickly scribbled something on a strip of paper, turned it around and scribbles something on the backside. He passed it on to Holmes, who passed it on to me.

„Read", he said calmly.

I glanced down at the piece of paper and read:

Tom Rhys-Folmec

„Er," I said introspectively.

„Turn it around", he said.

I did as he said and transformed into a pillar of salt.

Hello!

You abominable readers! Anyways. I just could not abandon the story. It would spook around my head and so I took my notebook and wrote it down. Now I feel 100 percent better.

Maybe some ppl will still be interested to find out what happens at the very end, which is now pretty close at hand. I am planning some sort of epic showdown, and then, as promised, the happy end. Cool?

See you soon!

LOve, Mrs. F