Miss Dimmock nodded, and stepped back demurely. ‘Very thoughtful,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
‘I will need to examine the auditorium in advance,’ Malvin said loudly. ‘It would be impossible for me to act on a stage on which I have never trod before. I will need to assess the acoustics and determine for myself how to project my voice to the most far-flung corners so that everyone might hear.’
‘Of course. Let me come to that in a moment.’ Mycroft paused, gazing at the company members. ‘We are engaged, as you know, for three performances, spread over three separate nights. For the first night, Prince Yusupov has sent out invitations to the creme de la creme of Russian society. This, I am assured, is the social event of the season.’
‘Will the Tsar be there?’ Mrs Loran piped up from beside Sherlock. ‘Oh, I do hope he is!’ She glanced at Sherlock, and said conspiratorially, ‘When I was a little girl all I ever wanted was to marry a prince. It’s too late now, but I can still dream.’
‘Alas, the Tsar is detained by affairs of state.’ Mycroft spread his hands in apology. ‘But rest assured that the audience will consist of a panoply of titled heads – Princes and Princesses, Counts and Countesses, Barons and Baronesses, Dukes and Duchesses. The Russian aristocracy is extensive, and most of them will be present on that first night, as will the British Ambassador to the Court of the Tsar and his good lady.’
‘Oh, how marvellous!’ Mrs Loran exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She leaned towards Sherlock. ‘Perhaps one of them might take pity on a middle-aged lady and make an honest woman of me,’ she whispered. He smiled back. He suspected that Mrs Loran would be more than a match for any Russian nobleman.
Mycroft turned his attention to the rest of the company. ‘On each of the three nights you will, I understand, be performing a selection of scenes from the great British playwrights – William Shakespeare, of course, Ben Jonson, Christopher Marlowe and John Webster. Mr Kyte -’ he turned to the big man who stood behind him, ‘I understand that you will be introducing the scenes and placing them in context for the audience.’
‘That is my intent,’ Mr Kyte rumbled. ‘I will be speaking in French, although the performances will be in English.’
‘Excellent.’ Mycroft turned to the younger members of the company – the dark haired Rhydian, the pale Judah and the twins Henry and Pauly. ‘In terms of scenery and props, I am assured that the theatre has a number of backdrops that can be used to represent everything from the battlements of Elsinore Castle to the Forest of Arden, along with a large amount of furniture and other things that might prove useful. I suggest that first thing in the morning we all go to the theatre, and while the actors are performing whatever vocal exercises they need in order to check the acoustical properties of the auditorium, you lads sort through everything with the aid of Mr Kyte. Work out what you want to use, and the regular staff at the theatre will get it all set up for you in the afternoon and familiarize you with the means of raising and lowering the backdrops.’
‘It’s all ropes,’ Henry said. ‘In the end, it’s all just ropes and pulling.’
‘Tomorrow afternoon, while the theatre staff are organizing the backdrops, there will I understand be a full rehearsal in which everyone will take part.’ He switched his gaze to the tall, moustached Mr Eves and the gaggle of musicians who stood behind him. Rufus Stone was there as well. He appeared to have bonded quite happily with the other musicians. ‘That rehearsal will include the various musical numbers which are a part of the performance, and so all musicians will be required to attend.’
Mr Eves nodded, ‘We will, ah, be there. Worry not.’
Mycroft nodded. ‘I am sure you will.’ He let his gaze roam around the members of the company. ‘On the second night the audience will consist of the artistic, rather than the titled, Moscow community. On the third night, tickets have gone on sale to the general population of Moscow. I think we can safely assume that you will be performing in front of a representative selection of the upper middle class of this fair city.’ He paused, and clasped his hands in front of his rather prominent stomach. ‘Remember that you are artistic ambassadors for your country’ He clapped his hands. ‘Now, to dinner, and then to bed. We meet for breakfast tomorrow at eight o’clock, and then to the theatre!’
The various members of the company headed for the hotel restaurant. The matronly Mrs Loran paused beside Sherlock and reached out to ruffle his hair. ‘Do you want to join me in the hotel lounge after dinner, Scott?’ she asked. ‘I was hoping you could help me with my lines by reading the other parts in the script.’
Sherlock’s initial reaction was to say yes. He was growing to like Mrs Loran more and more. Before he answered, he glanced over at Mycroft. His brother had obviously heard Mrs Loran’s question, and he shook his head briefly.
‘I wish I could,’ he said, ‘but I need to go to bed early and get a good night’s sleep.’
‘Perhaps tomorrow, after breakfast, then,’ she said, smiling, and walked off.
Mycroft beckoned to Sherlock and Rufus Stone to join him.
‘I apologize for spoiling your evening,’ he said to Sherlock, ‘but the more time we spend socializing with these people the more likely it is that we will let something slip, and they will realize that we are not what we seem. Our best course of action is to be polite but reserved.’ His glance moved to Stone, and then back to Sherlock. ‘The journey has been tiring,’ he said quietly, ‘and I see no reason to exert ourselves this evening. Get some rest. Tomorrow, when the remainder of the company head for the theatre, Sherlock will accompany me to the apartment of my agent here in Moscow. I wish to establish what exactly has happened to him.’ He glanced at Stone. ‘You, I am afraid, should go to the theatre with the rest of them. As principal violinist, your absence would be noted.’
‘You might need me,’ Stone said, ‘if there’s trouble.’
‘If there’s trouble, I suspect that nothing will help,’ Mycroft said soberly. ‘We are in a foreign country in which the free expression of any thought that runs counter to the Tsar’s is ruthlessly suppressed by both his official and his secret police forces. But we do what we must.’
‘Then why take Sherlock?’ Stone pressed. ‘If it’s that dangerous, he should come to the theatre with me.’
Mycroft shook his large head. ‘I accept the logic of your thoughts, but I may need Sherlock’s sharp eyes, sharp wits and athletic skills. It may be necessary to gain access to the apartment through a window, in which case I am entirely unsuited to the task. Once inside, he may spot some clue that I miss. At the very least, he can keep watch for the police while I am inside. And if something happens to me, he may be able to return and warn you.’
Stone nodded reluctantly. ‘Very well. If that’s all…?’ Receiving Mycroft’s nod, he walked away, towards the restaurant.
Mycroft gazed critically at Sherlock. ‘There is something on your mind, I perceive.’
Sherlock shrugged. ‘It’s not important.’
‘It is important. You are displeased with me because I did not tell you that I was employing Rufus Stone, and you are displeased with Rufus Stone because he did not tell you that he was working for me. You believe that you have been let down by both of us – that you cannot trust us.’
Sherlock steadfastly looked away, refusing to meet Mycroft’s eyes.
‘Sherlock, like it or not, I have a responsibility to look after you. Setting Rufus Stone to watch over you when I could not was a part of that.’
‘I thought…’ Sherlock started, surprising himself, ‘I thought he was my friend’
‘People can be several things at once,’ Mycroft cautioned. ‘I am your brother, but I am also an official of the British Government. Amyus Crowe is a bounty hunter, but he is also your tutor. Mr Stone is a violinist, and he is also an occasional agent of mine. That does not, by the way, preclude him from being your friend as well.’ He placed a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder and squeezed gently. ‘If it comes as any consolation, on his return from America Mr Stone told me that he had come to regard you with something approaching brotherly affection. He enjoyed your company. He asked me if I considered this a problem. I told him that I did not. I would rather he was looking out for your welfare because he wanted to, than because I had told him to.’