Before he could finish his sentence, the door slammed shut in his face.
“She’s in a wee bit cross, isn’t she?” said Abberline.
“So it would appear,” said Burton. “Though based on our previous meeting I can’t say I blame her.”
“I suppose you’re right, Captain. After all, you did punch the poor man in the face, and my fellow coppers confiscated his Time Machine. Under the direct order of Mycroft Holmes, of course, but still.”
“Holmes,” said Burton as they walked back toward the street. “Algy mentioned him.”
“So?”
“So I’ve told him very little of Mycroft Holmes and my involvement with him and the Shadow Council,” said Burton. “I didn’t want to burden my fellow Cannibals with an overabundance of the strange. In any case it was all classified anyway.”
“But your friend Mr. Swinburne sounded as if he knew Mr. Holmes quite well.”
“Exactly. What if Algy’s time as a prisoner of the Great Race has given him a modicum of their abilities? What if he can see things that have occurred that he did not personally witness, or things that have yet to transpire?”
“By Jove,” said Abberline. “Are you saying he’s a bloody oracle?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. It’s just as likely he’s gone mad, but for argument’s sake, let’s say he hasn’t.”
“He wasn’t making much sense,” offered Abberline.
“True. But perhaps he cannot make much sense of what he is seeing and experiencing. There were simply too many things he said that, while utter nonsense to anyone else, made perfect sense to us.”
Abberline shook his head. “You are right, Captain. Oh, but that most of it was the ravings of a lunatic. But what do we do about it? How do we follow any of his instructions?”
“Hopefully when the time is right, we will know,” said Burton. “In the meantime, I need an audience with Mycroft Holmes.”
“He’s been keeping us at arm’s length since the Great Race affair,” said Abberline. “I am afraid even I cannot get close to him. Though it’s been nice returning to actual normal police work.”
“That’s all right, Algy. He’ll see us. Or have his secrets published in the London Mail. Let’s go to the Diogenes Club.”
4. Mycroft
Burton and Abberline found Mycroft Holmes in his usual place, the Diogenes Club’s infamous Stranger’s Room. The elder Holmes stared up at them from his morning paper, seemingly more annoyed than surprised at seeing them there.
“I had believed our working relationship had reached its end,” he said, returning to the pages of The Daily Caller he was reading.
“So had I,” said Burton. “But something has come up. Something we believe you are involved in.”
“Oh?” Mycroft Holmes shook and folded the paper, placing it on a table beside him. “I am involved in so many things. Things to which the hoi polloi are not privy.”
“Spare me your condescension, Mycroft,” Burton countered. “I am in no mood for your foppery.”
Mycroft Holmes looked taken aback. “You are forgetting yourself, sir.”
“I forget nothing. At your urging, I have saved this city a myriad of times now. Therefore, it would behoove you to listen for once instead of turning up your nose and barking orders.”
Mycroft Holmes shook inwardly. He was not the type to be rattled easily, and it made Burton proud that he was able to discomfit him so. “Fine,” he said. “What do you want?”
Burton told him everything that had transpired in their meeting with Swinburne.
“It sounds as if your friend is quite mad,” said Mycroft Holmes when Burton was finished. “For that I am truly sorry. But I don’t see what it has to do with me.”
“You don’t?” Burton spat. “Well let me spell it out for you. Algy mentioned you by name. The two of you have never met, and I have never told him what I did on your behalf.”
“He also mentioned the Morlocks, sir,” added Abberline. “Those things we encountered in the tunnels just last night. How could he have known about that?”
Mycroft shrugged his shoulders. “They get newspapers in Bedlam, don’t they?”
“He’s been tied in a straitjacket and near catatonic,” said Burton. “I believe his time among the Great Race of Yith has imbued him with a modicum of their abilities. I think he can see all the myriad strands of Time at once.”
Mycroft Holmes shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Do you have any evidence to support this hypothesis?”
“Only what Algy told me about you, these Morlocks, whatever they are, and other things he couldn’t have otherwise known about.”
Mycroft Holmes settled back into his seat. “Suppose for argument’s sake you are correct. What would you have me do about it?”
“Take this seriously, for one,” said Burton. “Let me investigate for another.”
“And be honest with us, sir, about anything strange that comes to your attention,” Abberline said. “Mr. Swinburne said Time was off kilter and that you knew about it.”
Mycroft Holmes shook his head. “I have no idea what he’s talking about. Everything seems to have gone back to normal, more or less, save for that strangeness in the sewers beneath Shoreditch. Morlocks, you say?”
“Yes,” said Burton. “But it may be that what poor Algy warned us about hasn’t happened yet. Time travel is a strange business. A business that I warned you not to meddle in.”
Mycroft Holmes gave Burton a patronizing wave and a nod. “Talk to your associate the Time Traveler about the Morlocks.”
“We called on him already,” said Burton. “He wasn’t home.”
“Well, in that case, I’m afraid I can be of no further help. But if I find any evidence of Time being off kilter, according to your friend, I shall alert you immediately. Good enough?”
“I suppose,” said Burton. “For now.”
Mycroft Holmes snorted laughter. “When next we meet you shall keep your place, Captain Burton. And I won’t have you bloody barging in here every time you feel like it. The Diogenes Club abides by certain rules.”
“Stuff your rules,” said Burton as he and Abberline left the room, one of the Club’s attendants staring daggers at them all the way to the front door.
“Aye,” said Abberline when they emerged from the darkened building. “He’s even more cross than usual.”
“He’s hiding something,” said Burton.
Abberline gave a derisive snort. “When is he not?”
“I mean about what I told him. He knows something. He was quick to dismiss Algy’s words, but something about them resonated with him. I could tell by his expression.”
“Bloody hell,” said the detective. “You think Time really is off kilter somehow, and he knows about it?”
Burton shrugged. “It’s possible. Bismillah! We must find Herbert!”
The explorer hailed a hansom. As it clopped up to the curb, Burton said, “Can you follow Mycroft Holmes for me? Without him discovering you?”
The inspector blinked at him. “I think so. But why?”
Burton glanced at the door of the Diogenes Club. “I believe he’s up to something, and we must know what. I think Algy was trying to warn us about something involving our former employer.”
Burton climbed into the carriage and gave the driver his address at Gloucester Place.
“Following the brother of the late Sherlock Holmes won’t be easy,” called Abberline. “But I’ve learned a thing or two running about with you, Captain.” He tipped his bowler and gave Burton a playful wink.
“Good man.” Burton sat back in the seat as the hansom started off.