The Ghost Rebellion (3 page)

They all watched as their leader strode to his place at the head of the table. It was the forced march of a man trying to conceal any weakness. Jeremy doubted any other man in the room was fooled by it. Holmes took his place quietly behind his right shoulder and gave them a pleasant smile.

“
Gentlemen,” the elder began, but then suddenly his brow knotted. His lips moved, but no words came from them.

Watching Holmes gently take hold of the old man’s shoulder made Jeremy’s skin tingle. With a nod from his charge, Holmes turned and addressed the assembled directors. “An unexpected gathering, yes? Mr Cobra sends his regards as well as his regrets for not attending. An unfortunate complication has arisen in his current operation. The Lord of the Manor granted him leave to deal with it. As for the remaining corners of the world, all are represented at this table.”

“
Da,” grunted Bear, “most impressive. Now we ask, again, why?”

“
Since the failure of Operation Poseidon, we have been—”

“
We?”
Jeremy asked, his apprehension yielding to his contempt for Holmes.

Holmes’ reply was a polite, civil smile. So civil, in fact, that Jeremy suddenly grew aware of the pistol he had concealed in his right sleeve.

“
The Lord of the Manor confided in me his concerns about the House of Usher and its current direction.”

“
We seem to be struggling forward.” Wolf shook his head as he took a final drag from his cigarette. “If we have a direction at all.”

Holmes gave a sigh of delight as he pointed at Wolf. “How very apt, Mr Wolf. Keen insight, indeed. I would expect no less from the esteemed Adams bloodline.”

Jeremy watched as Mr Wolf, his real identity Milford Scott Adams III, reddened with anger. Rather daring for Holmes to allude to Mr Wolf’s true identity so openly amongst the other boardmembers.

Holmes continued, ignoring Wolf’s outrage. “
If we have a direction at all.
My own observation, as well. Seems that we have been tripping over ourselves, particularly when the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences is involved.” Holmes paused, looking at each of the board for a moment before continuing. “It was the topic of conversation just before we entered, was it not?”

Tiger sat upright, his frown deepening. “I do not care for being spied upon.”

“
Oh, please.” Holmes waved his hand dismissively. “You all have spies within your branches, perhaps even double agents and—knowing you lot—triple agents. You see, this is what happens when an institution lacks direction. A shame it should happen to the House of Usher.”

“
Who are you to scrutinise us?” Lion said, straightening in his chair. “You are an assistant to the Lord. His valet. You have not served the House over the years as we have.”

“
No, but therein lies your problem.” Holmes stated. He did not address them as superiors or even equals. He was amused by them all. “You are too close to the issue at hand.”

“
What issue,” Badger said, interlacing his fingers together as he leaned forward, “is at hand,
monsieur
?”

“
You are all so close to the House of Usher, to its history and reputation, that you refuse to acknowledge its decay from the inside, this mistrust of each other.” Holmes let that assessment hang in the still air of the room for a moment. “The House of Usher has become something of a jaunty music hall number, now hasn’t it? Reduced to a laughing stock in the intelligence community.”

“
I beg your—”

Holmes ignored Scorpion’s protest. “You have lost direction as you have lost your foundation. The House of Usher was never intended to be some fat git’s getaway from the missus, now was it?” Bear, a man of considerable carriage, bristled a bit at Holmes’ words but the Lord’s right-hand continued. “To be the society the House of Usher desires to be—undeterred, undaunted, uncompromising—you must have a foundation.”

“
I assume,” Wolf began, “that you are intending to rebuild this foundation you pine for, yes?”

“
Indeed,” Holmes replied, his smile almost illuminating the room. “A foundation such as the one for this hotel is but a simple thing—stone, mortar, dense cornerstones. I believe the House can be great once more if you all focus on three things.”

His fingers pressed against the surface of their shared table, and a panel Jeremy had not noticed on earlier inspection slid back. Behind it were three rows of buttons and switches, each row a singular colour. One row of buttons was white while another was a deep green. The final row nested between them was red.

In that moment, Jeremy finally took a prolonged notice of their leader. He was smiling, bobbing his head as if to some invisible tune, his eyes catching and following specks of dust that floated in the air before him. The Lord of the Manor was not just getting feeble in his advanced years; his wits had quite left him.

“
The first rock we must lay in this new foundation is Authority. You all must believe in your leadership.” He then looked over his shoulder to the Lord. “Sir, it’s time.”

His eyes jumped to Holmes, and a clarity Jeremy had not seen since his entering filled the old man’s eyes. “Very good, Holmes. If you are ready, carry out my order.”

Holmes nodded. “Serving you has been beyond pleasure. Thank you.”

The Lord of the Manor released a small titter of excitement as he breathed, “Oh, you are most wel—”

Holmes flipped the red switch within the crook of his index finger and light flared and danced from underneath the head of the House of Usher. Their leader was trying to scream, but his muscles all locked and stiffened against the violent convulsions overtaking his body. While quick flashes continued to pop and flicker from underneath the old man’s seat, sapphire tendrils of electricity leapt across his face, fingers, and neck.

The clamour and chaos of the assault ended, and the Lord of the Manor slumped back in the chair. Holmes pressed the green button just underneath the switch that had killed the elder, and the corpse descended into the floor. He took a deep breath and announced, “I hereby formally accept this unexpected appointment as Lord of the Manor.”

Surprisingly, Tiger lurched to his feet, but hesitated as Holmes’ finger now rested on another red switch. Keeping his dark gaze on Holmes, Tiger returned to his seat once more. Next to Jeremy, both Lion and Dingo took stock of their own seats.

“
Edison had been such a delight to work with during Operation Poseidon,” Holmes said, his chuckle mingling with his words. “While his first electric chair may have been something of a disaster, I dare say he has perfected it.”

The slightly charred chair—the Lord’s body notably absent from it—now rose from the floor to lock back into place.

Badger recovered first, pointing a finger at Holmes. “Exactly what makes you think we will follow you? You are not one of us.”

“
Have I gone through your ridiculous initiation phase, memorised your impressive but somewhat stagnant history, and endured your melodramatic rituals?” Holmes gently caressed with a single finger the tops of the scarlet switches. “You are correct; I have not been anointed by you—but that is the Usher of old. We must rebuild on this new foundation comprised of Authority.” His finger stopped. “And Accountability.”

Holmes’ fingertip pressed the white button underneath it and the floor collapsed from underneath Mr Bear, both chair and occupant disappearing from view. There was a rush of metal against wood, and then all went quiet again, though not for long as Bear’s shouts rose from under their feet. The whole board was out of their chairs now, but remained rooted where they stood.

Dr Holmes smiled. A handsome, terrifying smile. “Accountability is key, gentlemen, if success is to be obtained. We have a new initiative currently underway in Russia, and it has fallen woefully behind schedule. The Lord of the Manor—my apologies, the
former
Lord of the Manor—was rather indulgent when it came to patience. I, however, am not.”

Holmes gently stroked his moustache, as underneath the table Mr Bear’s curses filtered upward, muffled by the wood and—based of the echo of his vulgarities—size of the room.

Mr Lion cleared his throat. “Mr Holmes, if you have learned anything about the House of Usher in your time caring for our recently-departed elder, you know we are about more than mere survival.”

“
What I do know is that the House up to this point has been barely existing.” He calmly took the Lord’s place at the head of the table, the control panel well within reach. “Your collected incompetence has pushed the House to the brink of collapse. You all have been plotting and scheming against each other for how long now? Years? Decades? Forming alliances within when you should have been
united
under the raven’s crest. My country knows all too well the cost of division.”

Mr Bear’s curses paused at that moment, and then came a strange, high-pitched whine followed by the sound of something slicing the air. His screams erupted anew, but this time they were not of outrage and indignation, but of agony and terror.

Their new leader motioned for the remaining predators to resume their places at the table, even as the screams turned bloodcurdling, the quick cuts through the air growing louder and faster. One by one, they took their seats again. After all, they were of the House—screams were their stock in trade, but even Jeremy had never heard such fresh anguish as this.

Nausea welled within him. Casting his eyes around the room—Bear’s screams now laborious pleadings—did nothing to calm this strange sensation of vertigo. The hotel’s valets. The Lord of the Manor’s seat. The room below them. It made sense. This was not an Usher safe house where they met. This was a structure commissioned after Holmes’ rescue years ago. Money from all their lucrative ventures had been funnelled into this project: a recreation of his killing house in the White City during the Great Exhibition.

And the heads of the House of Usher were all presently inside it.

What Wolf blurted out made Jeremy nearly scream. “A fine way to show your gratitude, Mudgett, since I believe you were saved by the House. Hardly the sign of an aimless organisation possessing the resources to find someone to take your place at the hangman’s noose?”

Using Holmes’ actual name may have been Wolf’s attempt at retaliation for using his real name openly, but the intended insult only had the effect of making the man pause and close his eyes for a moment. The breath he took seemed to last forever, prolonging Bear’s final wail. He gave a slight shrug. “I would have enlightened you, Milford, on my intentions for the House. I would have gladly enlightened all of you, but I don’t feel a pressing need to disclose anything to a syndicate of cutpurses, charlatans, and ne’er-do-wells peddling snake oil at carnivals.”

At that moment Jeremy was certain the remaining board members were about to be swept into the same dark chamber as Mr Bear.

“
My first official act as the new Lord of the Manor—eliminate this
ridiculous
title. ‘Lord of the Manor’ makes me sound as if I should be adorned with ornate robes, blood-soaked proclamations in one hand, and a glass of wine in the other.” Holmes rolled his eyes, groaning softly. “How utterly Baroque.”

“
What should we call you then?” Mr Tiger asked.

“
I can think of a few things,” Mr Lion offered.

Holmes replied to Lion’s slight with a wry grin. “Something more practical. Chairman.”

Now it was Mr Lion who groaned. “How very American.”

“
I like it,” Wolf replied.

Jeremy tightened his jaw. Adams had always been a right bootlicker.

“
So, let me see,”—and the entire table flinched as Holmes reached into his coat pocket. He produced a small notepad, which he flipped to what Jeremy could see was a list of items. Holmes made small checks as he read off— “the induction of new leadership, disciplinary action carried out on Mr Bear, title change. Any other pressing business, gentlemen?”

The boardroom remained silent, as did the room underneath.

“
A rather productive first day, if I do say so myself. Well then, as Chairman, I hereby bring this meeting to a close. We will convene here again in—shall we say—a month’s time? In order to give our Russian associates ample time to find a replacement?”

“
I will see to that straight away,” Tiger stated. Then he added, “Chairman.”

“
Most kind of you.” Every board member cringed as Holmes’ finger slipped deftly to an amber button at the top of the console. “The staff will see you to the door.”

With a final nod, the directors all stood in unison.

“
Mr Fox,” Holmes said, “Stay for a moment, if you please.”

Each representative regarded Jeremy for a moment. The primitive part of his brain screamed at him to get up and run for the door. It wasn’t that far. Easy distance to cross. The more logical part assured him he would be dead within three steps.

“
But of course,” Jeremy replied, easing back into his own chair.

The door opened, and three men filed in. Though they were dressed in the typical dark suits of the House, they were much taller—all over six and a half feet. They also had curiously white hair for young men. A shudder ran down Jeremy’s spine as he observed how their eyes remained fixed on unseen points in space above them. As their faces were elevated slightly, it was impossible for the dim light of the room to not catch the milky substance that undulated within their pupils.   

“
You rang, sir?” the lead valet asked.

“
Yes, Barnsley,” Holmes said, opening his journal to a blank page, “please escort the board members out.”

“
Safely, sir?” he asked, his query capturing everyone’s attention.

Holmes jotted down a few notes in his pad, and then replied, “This time, yes.”