Mycroft was quick to cut the regimental reunions short. “We haven’t time for all the pleasantries, Fellowes,” he said. “Kindly explain to my brother exactly what happened.”
“Of course, Sir,” said Fellowes, clearly not in the least bit discomfited by the mild rebuke. A man who worked with politicians no doubt developed a thick skin to such things.
“As Mr Holmes has probably told you, our first assumption was that we faced a group of terrorists. It wouldn’t be the first time some group or another decided to storm the building and grind their axe in public. Normally they’re easily dealt with. These groups may have a good deal of enthusiasm but they have no training and that’s what really counts in the end, as Dr Watson here will attest I’m sure.”
“Absolutely,” I said, completely on impulse. Fellowes was the sort of man that could make you agree just by being in the same room as him. He had a very powerful personality.
“Given their bizarre mode of dress my first assumption was the animal rights lot, you know, anti-vivisection and what have you.”
“Quite the opposite, if anything,” said Mycroft waving his hands at Fellowes to encourage him to continue.
“Speaking personally, it was the horse-headed feller that first convinced me we were dealing with more than just a bunch of mutters in masks,” Fellowes continued. “He spoke up you see, told Sir Bartleby of the Exchequer to shut his face (the honourable gentleman was doing more than his fair share of screaming you see, Sirs). The way he opened his mouth was more than a theatrical costumier could manage and that was a fact. I saw its teeth, tongue and throat and knew that what I was looking at was a horse’s head on a bloke’s body. Absolutely ludicrous, naturally, but I’ve seen a fair few ludicrous things in my time and if there’s one thing I’ve learned working security it’s that you should never stop to question the obvious. I couldn’t begin to tell you how you got a horse’s head stitched onto a fellow but as I was looking right at one, somebody surely had managed and there was little to be gained by questioning it. The brute had designs on a number of peers, peers that fell under my care. So—figure out the how and why of it later —in that moment you just get on and do your job.
“Not that I was able to do much of that—those things had the strength to match their ugliness and I can honestly say that man was not built to punch horses.” He held up a bandaged right hand. “Made a right mess of me hand it did.”
“The chief was the odd one out—his face weren’t a part of him, however much he might have wished it were, snorting and oinking like the poor swine that had owned the face before him. It was a rough, butcher’s-shop job, hollowed out and worn like a cowl, the ears flapping as he shouted his orders. He looked an idiot to be honest but the gun in his hand probably went a fair way towards convincing people not to mention it.
“I’m embarrassed to say they had our number within seconds. I’m not blaming the men, they didn’t know what they were looking at. They had the wind blown out of them and it made them slow to react. Still, like I say, training—that’s what you need. If they’d been a bit more like me they’d have got the job done and not worried about what they were beating up.
“Once you’re on your back foot though it’s usually too late. Situation like that you’ve got to keep the upper hand from the off, otherwise they’ll make their move, grab hostages or what have you, and from there on you’re trying to limit the damage rather than win the day.
“That’s what happened to us, they grabbed Lord Bartleby, Lord Messingham and Lord Wharburton. The three of them were on their knees, looking death in the face before we could even rally a proper defence. Of course, had I known what they had in mind I dare say I would have taken the risk anyway. Without wishing to dismiss the worth of those noble gentlemen …”
“You’d rather risk an old peer than a Prime Minister,” said Holmes.
“That’s it, Sir,” said Fellowes, “you’ve got it.
“But I didn’t know of course so I was shouting for people to stand down before we ended up spilling blood that we’d struggle to mop up.
“Pig-face took up the speaker’s position and made his little speech. I’ll give it to you as verbatim as I can, Gentlemen, I can’t say it meant a great deal to me but I’ve been doing this game long enough to know that details are important so I do my best to keep everything locked away.” He tapped the side of his head.
“He said: ‘This is an action on behalf of the army of Dr Moreau.’ I remembered the name but couldn’t think why at the time. Since then I’ve placed it of course. Outside the heat of the moment there’s not much that escapes this ugly old head of mine.
“‘For too long, this world has been under the control of the stupid apes,’ he carried on, which was a bit rich considering one of his men had a monkey’s face on him. But, there you go, you don’t expect much in the way of sense from a man who wears a pig’s head as a mask, do you?
“‘I am here,’ he said, ‘to take away that control and place it in the hands of the next species, the better species. Mankind has had its chance and proven itself incapable time and time again.’
“He got a real good rant going then but I’m afraid I missed a lot of it. That pig mask of his obscured his words something chronic, and when he got excited all you could hear was the sound of wind being forced through that dead old snout of his. It was something of a one-sided history lesson, from The Hundred Years’ War to the Boers—anything and everything he could think to moan about with regard our track record. Personally I think it’s all too easy to give mankind a bad name as long as you’re happy to be selective, we’ve all done things we’re not proud of.
“Anyway, it wasn’t the speech of a sane man so I don’t know why I bother trying to judge it. The man was a loon and a dangerous one at that.
“One of my boys decided to try and take his opportunity while pig-face was orating to the masses. He made a break for the doors; I like to think he was rushing to fetch help rather than just thinking about his own neck but we’ll never know. One of the creatures, the leopard-headed one, jumped for him. I tell you, it wasn’t just his head that was unnatural, that thing leaped feet into the air, sailing over people’s heads, before landing on the poor lad. Its teeth made short work of him. He was nothing but bone above the neck by the time he’d taken a couple of bites.
“Of course that soon made the room panic, there was no more time for speeches. The Lords were shouting and screaming and pushing each other out of the way. At the sight of all this chaos the animals were quick to join in too, they were barking and screeching and leaping all over the place. It was only pig-face, Moreau, that managed to get them back on side. ‘Fear the Law!’ he started shouting, ‘Fear the Law!’
“Well, they hadn’t been doing much of that had they? Still, they gathered round him quick enough so it had the desired effect. Of course the rest of us were not so organised. It was madness in there as people made a break for the doors. It took them a few minutes to realise that nothing was stopping them. Moreau had used the chaos to grab the Prime Minister and make his escape. I’m afraid I didn’t even see him do it, it was only afterwards, when cross-examining those who were there that we realised what had happened.
“The Prime Minister had been making for the exit the same as everyone else but the horse-headed one and a short, hairy thing that had a good dose of goat in him had snatched at him before he’d got so much as a few feet across the hall. According to the Speaker of the House, they put a sack over his head and the horse creature carried him out under one arm. The man in question claims he tried to intercede on the Prime Minister’s behalf but, honestly, I don’t believe a word of it, I think he was as scared as all the rest and making it up after the fact as he didn’t want to be seen as a coward. Frankly there’d be no shame in what he did, he’s an old man and he’s never seen active service. No reason why he should suddenly become the man of action when faced with that sort of thing.”