The Tale of the Transposed Tenor II
REG
only Holmes ready for the opera, but his younger brother Mycroft as well.
Holmes had obtained an additional ticket from Senor Brunch for the
performance. A man of Holmes' stature can do anything. While Mycroft tended
to live in the shadow of his more famous sibling, there was an unusually
strong bond between them, one not evident, perhaps, to the general public.
In fact, the man on the street would have doubted they were brothers at all.
Mycroft, as long as I had known him, had spoken with a distinctly Russian
accent, which, Holmes explained, Mycroft had adopted as a way to distinguish
himself from his older and more powerful sibling. To the untrained eye,
Mycroft, a blond, sensitive youth to Holmes' more dark, manly features,
would have appeared no more than half of Holmes' age, but Holmes had taught
me that it was the trained eye that mattered, and the cut of their hair, the
way they held their cigarettes, and even the identical rings they both chose
to wear made clear that these were brothers in blood and as well as in
spirit. They were both in fact keen sportsman, and many was the time that
Mrs. Hudson had complained that, after a visit from Mycroft, they spent the
evening wrestling in Holmes' apartments till early dawn.
Covent Garden was ablaze with light as we entered the public hall. We passed
through the room slowly, speaking to first one, then another distinguished
guest. Suddenly Holmes stopped, his eyes glared, and he stood stock still, a
tiger on the prowl. "Holmes, what is it?"
"He is here."
I looked in the direction of Holmes' sight, and there, twenty yards away,
stood an enormous bear of a man, chatting with a baronet and flanked by his
manservant.Without a doubt, this was the best-known music critic in all of
London. A man of saturnine wit and rapier response, his fame had been sealed
by his recent exclusive interview with the reclusive Adelina Patti at
Craig-y-nos.
"It is Belisarius Punter-Pullet," said Holmes quietly. "He has just written
an essay on Patti. You may find it in the most recent issue of The Musical
Commentator under the title of 'Castle Diva.' It is a wicked piece of
writing.
"I suppose his friends know him as Beau," Mycroft commented, a soft burr
noticeable in his voice.
"His women friends certainly, Mycroft," Holmes responded. "That man is a
menace to society. The influence he has on the young may some day destroy
this country. He is said to know the name of every important personage at
the opera, and to have made love to the rest."
"Indeed, Holmes," I interjected, "just the other day, at my club, Drumlanrig
said to me that Punter-Pullet had the ear of the cognoscenti, and the...."
"My blushes, Watson."
"and the sympathies of the masses."
"And who is that striking man with him? " asked Mycroft again. I had not
expected him to have such an interest in music, and I hoped that this might
be encouraged. Mycroft gestured towards Punter-Pullet's manservant. Broad of
shoulder and with a pugilist's upper body, the manservant overtopped Holmes
by at least three inches. He\is light brown hair was worn long and wild, and
his open gaze showed piercing green eyes and the high cheekbones of a
Mongol invader.
"That is Bromhilde, a Northern Croat, Mycroft."
"I say, Sherlock, he is an impressive beast, isn't he?" The normally quiet
Mycroft responded. I wondered if perhaps Mycroft might have been at a great
home in London where Bromhilde had been in service before. He seemed not to
be able to take his eyes from him.
"And a beast is what he is, Mycroft. It is Belisarius and the Beast"
Taking Mycroft by the arm, Holmes turned on his heels and led us in the
opposite direction. One couldn't help noticing as we strolled that, along
with the swells, the gentry, and the titled persons here for Brunch and
Albani, a few poor souls from below decks seemed to have wandered into the
hall. Poorly dressed despite their obvious efforts to conform, these
individuals had doubtless saved their salaries for weeks on end for a chance
to hear Brunch.
As we arrived at the grand staircase, I saw, from the corner of my eye, a
woman waive to us. Dressed in a distinctive shade of yellow, I realized that
the this must be the beloved Madame de la Cruz, waiving at Holmes. Holmes
noticed, and began steer us in the direction of his friend . "Watson, I am
going to do you the honor of introducing you to Maddalena de la Cruz, the
finest Aida of her era. She is retired now, and unable to get around well,
but remains a revered figure at Covent Garden."
As we edged across the crowded room, I could begin to see that the festive
dress made up for a face which, careworn and reflective of time, still
shone with the dignified profile and the jet black hair for which she had
been known in earlier times. "I say, Holmes, I whispered as we come within a
few yards of her, she must be almost 65."
"Seventy-one, Watson, if she's a day, but as magnificent as when she first
appeared."
I was introduced to the great lady, who seemed to know both Holmes and his
younger brother well, and as the small talk continued, I remembered how she
had come from nowhere to become on of the greatest singers of her time. Born
in Madrid, she had developed an early love for music, but, of impoverished
means, had been sent to Saffron Walden to work as a scullery maid. Perhaps
it was her "Carmen" blood, but she was made responsible for butchering the
domestic fowl, and developed, with a small hand-ax, a sense of speed and
rhythm that brought her to the attention of patrons in the town. De la Cruz
was sent to music school in London, and by the time she was in her early
twenties she had become the outstanding woman percussionist in some of the
better amateur orchestras of the day. Once, during a dress rehearsal of
Aida, the soprano fell ill, and it looked as if the performance would be
cancelled. Maddalena, who had saved her pence to buy opera scores, stepped
out of the battery towards the conductor and said, quietly, but with
self-assurance, "Maestro, I can sing that role."
The rest was history. Engagement led to engagement, and she became one of
the celebrated artists of the age. Known to all as the Saffron Aida, she
sang her signature role throughout the civilized world and in Paris. An
unlucky accident with a camel had ended her performing career prematurely,
but she retired again to Saffron Waldon, where she taught a select few, and
occasionally traveled to London for the opera. For those who loved her, she
was "the diva of Saffron Walden." Here, she was given a place of honor to
stand prior to the performances and at intermissions, at the top of the
grand staircase, balancing gracefully against a wing chair said to have
belonged to George III.
I snapped out of my reverie as we were each served slightly warm champaign,
I heard Madame de la Cruz address me."Mr. Holmes, you and Mr. Watson and I
must discuss Brunch".
"I should be honored to share a meal with you, Madame de la Cruz, if only
Mr. Holmes...."
"Watson, I believe that Madame de la Cruz wishes to discuss Maestro Brunch.
Madame, we would love to be of service."
The diva took another sip from her glass and lowered her voice. "Mr.
Holmes, I do not know how to say this. Brunch and I have not always had the
best of times together. Although we knew each other many years ago, he has
always refused to sing with me, and I suspect that on several occasions he
interfered with opportunities I might have had to perform before certain
Titled Persons. But I bear him no ill will. However, although conspiracy has
been organized, and I cannot let injustice be done, and the truth must be
spoken. There is something that had never been said, and I cannot go to my
final rest without letting it be known. The fact is...."
At that moment, Madame de la Cruz' face darkened. I wondered what dreadful
secret she could be holding back. Her eyes widened, and she suddenly put her
hand to her breast. In a moment, her face contorted and she let out a scream
such as I have never heard from a retired opera singer before. She struggled
to retain her balance, and grasped the back of the wing chair. Holmes leapt
to her aid, but he was too late. She toppled over the chair, breaking the
fragile instrument into a thousand pieces, and toppled down the flight of
stairs to the landing.
A gasp of horror went up from the crowd, and the ushers quickly cleared the
public areas. Only Punter-Pullet and his retinue remained, talking in the
corner. I knelt by de la Cruz' side. There was no pulse. "Holmes, I am
afraid Madame de la Cruz is dead. She could not have been well. This must be
a stroke."
"Watson, not only is she dead, but the chair has been destroyed.
"Holmes, really, this is no time for..."
"Watson, you fail to see my point." Holmes walked a few feet from Madame's
final resting place and picked up a leg of the chair, which had been pushed
away in the fall. "Watson, look here. Do you see these fresh marks.? They
are teeth marks. Someone has gnawed the leg of this chair so that it would
precisely break,and send Madame de la Cruz to her death. This, Watson, is
murder. I have no doubt that you shall find the her champaign was poisoned.
Mycroft, I want you to look at the clever job that the villain did in...."
Holmes turned around, addressing Mycroft, but in the confusion of the
moment, Mycroft, along with Punter-Pullet and Bromhilde, had disappeared.
End of Part II
David Melnick
dav
P.S. But you'd better watch out for André after that
"throughout the civilized world and in Paris" remark! ;-)
REG wrote:
> I arrived......
Mrs Terfel
REG wrote:
> >
>
> She toppled over the chair, breaking the
> fragile instrument into a thousand pieces, and toppled down the flight of
> stairs to the landing.
>
> A gasp of horror went up from the crowd, and the ushers quickly cleared the
> public areas. Only Punter-Pullet and his retinue remained, talking in the
> corner. I knelt by de la Cruz' side. There was no pulse. "Holmes, I am
> afraid Madame de la Cruz is dead. She could not have been well. This must be
> a stroke."
>
> "Watson, not only is she dead, but the chair has been destroyed.
>
Bravissimo! 10 out of 10 for cruelty to furniture. I'm also a fan of
people falling down stairs too (Gone with the Wind fan, in case you
hadn't guessed!)
Can't wait for the next chapter.... although you and La Donna are now
responsible for my recent total lack of productivity in the office!!!!
Mrs T xx
REG
"Mrs Terfel" <faye.c...@tesco.net> wrote in message
news:1130310543.9...@g47g2000cwa.googlegroups.com...
Mrs Terfel
I've never actually read any Sherlock Holmes! (Naturally I've seen
umpteen film and tv versions though, and I particularly liked Rupert
Everett in the most recent one)
Yes, I know.... a dreadful thing to admit to. I realise your opinion
of me will have plummeted several points by such an admission. But I
feel I ought to rectify this quite urgently - so what would you
recommend is the best one for me to start with?
And another silly question - if you'll forgive me - but was SH supposed
to be gay? I did wonder..... Not that it makes any difference to me,
but I was just curious.
I'm quite well read in German and French literature, but am still
desperately trying to catch up with some of the English language
classics.
Thanks in advance!
Mrs T xx
P.S: I loved your "civilised world and Paris" comment - it had me in
stitches. I spent a very miserable and lonely year living there just
after I graduated - and let's just say that the Parisians I encountered
didn't exactly make me feel welcome. However, most of the other
non-Parisian French people I know are very nice and I don't have any
problem with them. Paris itself is a gorgeous city though, and one of
my favourite places for shopping. I often used to get the train out to
Fontainebleau at weekends and sit in the gardens listening to Don
Carlos, wondering why I never bumped into any Alagna look-a-likes...
REG
enthusiastic admirer of it all. I think that if I had to pick one, it would
be A Study in Scarlet, a novel, since much of it takes place in the American
West and revolves around Doyle's ideas about Mormons. There's something of a
gothic atmosphere which is unusual, I think.
Gay? What is gay?
Best
"Mrs Terfel" <faye.c...@tesco.net> wrote in message
news:1130328058....@g49g2000cwa.googlegroups.com...
Mrs Terfel
REG wrote:
> I am not a good person to recommend SH to anyone - I am an uncritical and
> enthusiastic admirer of it all. I think that if I had to pick one, it would
> be A Study in Scarlet, a novel, since much of it takes place in the American
> West and revolves around Doyle's ideas about Mormons. There's something of a
> gothic atmosphere which is unusual, I think.
>
> Gay? What is gay?
>
Thanks for that. I meant gay as in the usual definition.
>From a girl's point of view I was just wondering if SH was going to be
involved in any romantic subplots with any members of the opposite sex
or not. I'm not expecting anything too Jane Austen, but I do have a
penchant for that sort of thing in books...
Mrs T xx
REG
"Mrs Terfel" <faye.c...@tesco.net> wrote in message
news:1130329226.3...@g49g2000cwa.googlegroups.com...
Mrs Terfel
REG wrote:
> We shall see. You must remember that Holmes can do almost anything.
>
OK, REG - well you've inspired me to go out and buy a copy of the
complete SH now. However, if it *doesn't* end with a big white
wedding and they all live happily ever after then I'm not going to be
pleased! :-)
Mrs T xx
Stephen Jay-Taylor
coupling. Will Mycroft be sucked into their sphere, one wonders ? Poor Mme.
de la Cruz, all that suffering and dedication, only to wind up at the foot
of the Grand Staircase with her legs in the air. Yet which of us cannot say
that we have not, at some point or other, been in the same position ?
Indeed. Are, perhaps, your parts becoming somewhat larger ? Well, I look
forward to your third, or partus turdus, as we cunning linguists say.
SJT, follower of le strade and narrow..