The Queens Gambit Ch. 03

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The entrance to The Diogenes stood amidst the elite of London’s Gentlemen Clubs but two minutes from Whitehall. Sandwiched between the Explorers and Cavalry the unnamed and unnumbered entrance presented nothing more than another marble portico in an already abundant forest. As I descended from the hansom the door opened miraculously as if by some invisible hand. As often as I visited I had yet to see a doorman or have an inkling as to the surveillance mechanism that allowed such punctilious service. As with all things Diogenes knowledge was on a need to know basis and however close we might be genetically Mycroft felt little pull to share anything more than the necessary with a brother. I have never been a club member nor ever likely to be invited to such exulted rank but as a founders younger sibling and having some reputation with the powers that be I was tolerated when either business or melancholy led me to the door.

The lobby was impressively ornate but with a total absence of furniture and the only escape apart from the front entrance was directly into the ‘Strangers Room’. I ensconced myself there with a freshly ironed edition of the ‘Madras Times’ awaiting the war drums to relay to Mycroft’s ears my unannounced intrusion. The editorial screamed treason of course, without fail something on the subcontinent was always a stir, in this instance a question of pig fat being used by unscrupulous ammunition manufacturers. Having only recently quelled the last Sepoy revolt from exactly the same unforgivable violation of Muslim and Hindu religious protocol the mighty hand of the Raj was being exalted in the strongest of terms to smite with great speed and voracity the perpetrators of such a travesty.

The usher’s arrival was much of a surprise. Mycroft’s usual habit was to greet any club visitors personally and I was seriously considering enquiring after his health as politeness would demand when the flunky unaccustomedly spoke.

“Mr. Mycroft begs your forgiveness Sir and would be most grateful if you would be so considerate as to join him in the Turkish bathhouse.”

My curiosity aroused I was about to press for elucidation when the man turned and began to depart. Quickly throwing my open newspaper into the roaring open hearth, as was customary in the club to ensure utter privacy, I followed in some haste. The man stopped and indicated me to sit again and with some aplomb proceeded to cover my freshly nailed boot soles with disposable cotton galosh. Happy that my footwear could no longer disturb the hush of this great hub of Empiric power we continued.

Mycroft was laying face down on a marble slab humming the Major generals song from ‘Pirates’. It had been a number of years since I had witnessed the full nakedness of my sibling and was quite shocked as to the extent of his now voluminous proportions. Saville Row is quite capable of taking fifty pounds of a man with clever cutting and Mycroft’s personal choice of tailor was as usual with him brilliant.

“Stop looking at adana escort me like I am a beached whale Sherlock. I am quite healthy enough yet to lead you a merry dance given the will.”

“I think it might be a gavotte as opposed to a mazurka brother mine!”

“Indeed, indeed. Is your visit intended just for the purpose of spreading such precious gems of badly disguised sarcasm or is a more serious matter pressing? Myself I am amidst the necessary pummeling of my flesh by these two excellent masseurs and am quite content to enjoy the experience alone.”

Brother had never taken kindly to my sometimes cajoling humor. Mycroft had two moods, serious and calamitous.

“I come to the mountain of all wisdom in search of knowledge.”

“You really cannot resist a score Sherlock! Touché, I am suitably hit, proceed please.”

“Very well, briefly. There appears to be a sudden large influx of young men from the East in the reaches of the London Docklands, noticeably in the areas surrounding West and East Indie basins. This might be explainable by a number of factors. Maybe a sudden increase in the number of lascar seamen employed, perhaps a widening of Imperial Chinese emigre policy. Even the substantial increase in the number of soldiers under the employment of the Triad would explain. However I doubt any of those simple extensions of logic are the correct one.”

Mycroft floundered just long enough to raise himself and swivel to a sitting position on the side of the slab and thankfully for me strategically place a towel over his ample and erect genitalia that dangled openly and grotesquely between his thighs.

“This is a matter of knowledge and concern to Her Majesty’s Government. Indeed is worrying to many interested parties including a sparring partner of your own.”

“The Professor you mean Mycroft. Don’t mince words. I am fully cognizant with the ongoing arrangement between Moriarty and the Secret Service in arenas of common interest. When I survived Reichenbach Falls there was always the possibility he would also. Little wonder with the inventive genius of the Ministry boffins to aid his subterfuge. We have come to an arrangement of sorts now. A truce if you wish, a mutual refusal to look in each others direction unless the stench becomes too overpowering.”

“You are learning politics at last Sherlock. I am suitably impressed. Perhaps there is hope for you yet!”

“The point being Mycroft that both Moriarty and myself are quite in agreement on one point. Human slavery is despicable and without any possible excuse.”

Mycroft attempted to interpose but I gestured him to remain silent.

“I am not talking about consensual arrangements between individuals to serve psychological or sexual needs, or the continued under rewarding of individuals that economic restrictions might cause to be in place. I am referring to the total subjugation, to the position of a beast of burden, of any human being by another no matter eskişehir escort what the circumstance.”

The passion of my words seemed to surprise Mycroft no end. I understood that he viewed some matters from a perspective of the reality of ‘the great game’ but to a simpler soul like mine the fraternity of humanity was indisputable.

“My dear Sherlock it is unusual and quite refreshing to hear you proselytize in the realms of morality and social order with such passion. Yes you are right of course and as a nation we have justifiably led the world in the surge towards egalitarianism. Although our immediate neighbors to the east might claim some small fertilization of its continued growth. Democracy must lead the way in this goal or we will lose all to the fervent socialist and anarchical. I will arrange for you to meet with Wilkinson in the Ministry tomorrow. He has been following the issues you speak of closely and will ground you in everything that is allowable.”

“I appreciate your help Mycroft. This matter seems somewhat linked to another case that I am pursuing and any light in the darkness will be extraordinarily beneficial.”

“You mean the demise of Braithwaite I presume?”

“Indeed. You see a connection.”

“Butterfly wings in the Amazon my dear Sherlock. Action makes reaction, cause and effect. You will make sense of it you always do. That is what my young brother does!”

For a moment Mycroft’s eyes shone proud and I glowed in that light like a firefly.

“Now away to Whitechapel with you and leave me to my happy release.”

Nodding knowingly we made our adieus and I turned to make my way back to the Horseguards entrance. Deduction told me that the smaller of the attendants was now bent over the marble slab in the process of receiving a deep and thorough sodomizing from my otherwise lethargic sibling whilst the taller masseur played tongue twister with Mycroft’s thrusting ass.

Without question Mycroft had a clear and concise knowledge of all the matters at present vexing my mind. He was the spider sat at the edge of a complex and all enveloping web that reached far beyond the parameters of lesser men’s understanding. Nothing could occur in our great metropolis, indeed in the vastness of suburbia and country alike without his knowledge. If Moriarty was the overseer of Empires criminal underbelly Mycroft held sway in the shadowed world of intrigue and politic. Like ying and yang they coexisted, standing nose to nose collecting and filtering intelligence of all. It had often occurred to me that by a tiny shift of fortune their roles might so easily be reversed and none would be the wiser or safer.


The hansom had appeared as magic from the clouds of still dense soup.

“To Christ Church, Whitechapel if you please.”

“Sorry sir, already have a fare.”

“That’s quite alright cabby, Mr. Holmes is more than welcome to share this excellent knee blanket.”

Professor sakarya escort James Moriarty pushed open the cabs doors and welcomed me inside with a disarming smile and the offer of his hip flask.

“Do excuse the intrusion Sherlock. A little cloak and dagger but we seem to be traveling the same cobbled street as of now. Mycroft suggested you might be up to a parley.”

My slight annoyance at the prospect of brother dear setting up this ad hoc meeting was being somewhat soothed by the certain knowledge that in some way Moriarty was a key to any solution.

“I was most perturbed to be advised of poor Braithwaite’s demise, a most unfortunate and tragic occurrence. The chap was quite a magnificent actor, a musical Keen no less. Saw a rehearsal of ‘Mikado’ and was so looking forward to seeing the production in full splendor.”

“The matter seems far more involved than at first apparent. My first considerations were of simple foul play by some inconsequential blaggard but every factor seems to point to these being deeper waters below and murkier with silt at that.”

“Braithwaite had two notable weaknesses. The first the ill-conceived need for opiate support to his artistry, secondly a perchance for the regular company of large and brutal lovers. I have little doubt that a combination of these factors led to his untimely demise.”

“I have no doubt your reasoning is sound but the immediate connection escapes me Professor.”

“My dear boy you must call me James at least. Mycroft is quite in the habit of doing so.”

The warmth of his words was accompanied by his hand sliding under the knee blanket and firmly squeezing my upper left thigh.

“I am a good ten years older than Mycroft but we share so many similar tastes.”

His hand had risen sufficiently for the palm to lay quite casually across the cylindrical form of my ever semi erect penis.

“Then ‘James’ please elucidate your hypothesis.”

Moriarty smiled at me with the same condescending expression that Mycroft was inclined to adopt when confronted by my inability to grasp what he considered trivial and simplistic. The hand on my thigh had curled sufficiently for the slender fingertips to run up and down my now rampant shaft with delicate but orgasmic producing strokes.

“In Limehouse we had already an abundant supply of raw opium and now it seems a numerous supply of young men in human bondage ripe for the sex trade. Whitechapel supplies an endless market for suitably refined and diluted addictive product as well as centuries of expertise in the use of unfortunates for the making of unscrupulous profit through exploitation.”

The hand working its magic on my member had managed to serendipitously unfasten my fly and draw the magnificently full erection from my striped morning trousers into full glorious bloom.

“We are just approaching Aldgate East gentlemen.”

The cabbies voice broke into my mind like a sledgehammer through a cabinet of cut glass. Hastily I attempted to rearrange my clothing suitably for public appearance. Moriarty placed a hand in the midst of my chest and smiled mysteriously.

“Take us once around the block if you please cabby, then directly to Brick Lane.”

“Right you are governor.”

I gasped as Moriarty’s mouth descended to enclose my manhood fully.

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