Chapter 4: The Scandal of the Bohemian Queen
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 4: The Scandal of the Bohemian Queen
A few dozen minutes before a mysterious lady knocked on the door of the boarding house—
"Hello, Mrs. Hudson."
"Miss Watson. You're home quite early today."
Dr. Rachel Watson, who had returned earlier than usual, scratched her head at the housekeeper’s greeting.
"Yes. There weren't many patients at the hospital today."
"I’m not sure if I should be happy or concerned about that."
"Ahaha..."
Watson offered a weak laugh at Mrs. Hudson’s light joke as she made her way toward her room.
—Bang! Bang!
She frowned slightly at the sound of gunfire echoing from inside.
"What is she up to now?"
Normally, hearing a gunshot would cause anyone to panic or call the police. But at 221B Baker Street, such common sense didn't apply.
"Holmes! What on earth are you doing?"
The most eccentric figure in all of London resided here. The reason for the total collapse of common sense was her roommate—Holmes, who was significantly older than Watson.
"...Watson? You're early."
As Watson pushed the door open with a look of exasperation, she saw a young woman sprawled across an armchair like a corpse. A white dressing gown was draped loosely over her body. She picked up a cigarette and waved a hand in greeting.
"Want to try some Arcadia tobacco?"
Watching her, Watson let out a tired sigh.
Usually, Holmes's sharp gray eyes shone with a brilliant luster, but now they were dull and clouded. Similarly, her once-vibrant black hair had lost its sheen, looking dry and brittle. Yet, even as Holmes offered a cigarette with a dark smile, an unmistakable air of charm and mystery clung to her.
"What were you doing just now?"
"As you can see, I was decorating the room."
"I see."
Had she not been shooting a phallic pattern into the wall, it might have looked almost enchanting.
"Why did you drop your usual formal tone for this nonsense?"
"Well, isn't a softer tone nice for a change?"
Watson looked down at Holmes with disdain, shook her head in disbelief, and sighed again. The longer Holmes went without a case to tackle, the more bizarre her behavior became.
"Wait, were you experimenting with Mana Stones again?"
Heading to her usual spot, Watson noticed the remnants of an experiment on a table in the corner. She frowned deeply.
"I distinctly told you that excessive experimentation can lead to mana poisoning, didn't I?"
"It’s fine, Watson."
Holmes carelessly tossed her gun onto a distant sofa, her expression languid.
"For the advancement of investigative science, such a risk is a trivial matter. In fact, I’ve been conducting the experiments quite safely..."
"Holmes, I was a military surgeon. I am a practicing doctor. Do you think I can't recognize the symptoms of mana poisoning when they're displayed right in front of me?"
At the sound of Watson’s icy tone, Holmes stopped speaking and quietly looked away.
"Pretending not to know won't help. No matter how skilled you are, you have to listen to me on this."
"Just cut me some slack, Watson."
Upon Watson’s firm declaration, Holmes let out a deep sigh, stood up, and began to lament.
"If I don’t conduct Mana Stone experiments, I might die of sheer boredom."
"Then take on a case..."
"A case. Exactly! There are no cases. Not a single case in London to satisfy me, Watson."
Murmuring to herself, Holmes handed a newspaper to Watson, her hand trembling slightly.
"For the past few months, there hasn't been a single significant case. The few strange incidents that did occur were mostly natural phenomena. The requests coming in and the incidents reported in the papers are all trivial."
"Hmm..."
"It feels as if my brain is getting stiff from disuse. Perhaps it’s actually solidifying. It is truly lamentable."
After grumbling for a while, Holmes eventually sank back into her armchair, looking exhausted.
"When bizarre incidents began happening all over the world, how was I back then, Watson?"
"You were brimming with energy. You didn't even glance at those experimental tools that cause mana poisoning."
Watson looked at Holmes with a slightly regretful expression.
"Yes, that’s right. I used to believe that even without praying for incidents every night, significant cases that would make my heart race would find me."
Holmes gazed listlessly into Watson’s rosy eyes before turning her gaze toward the window.
"But Watson, I feel as though I’m living in a world of fools."
Outside, the streets of London were being swallowed by a thick fog.
"For months now, this unidentified fog has covered the streets every night, yet not a single crime exploiting the situation has emerged. The criminals of London really are..."
Holmes, who had been staring blankly and murmuring in a lethargic tone, suddenly stopped.
"What is it?"
A moment later, a smile manifested on her previously stiff lips. Watson tilted her head, puzzled by the sudden change.
"Did you witness a crime? Or a bizarre incident?"
"No, not exactly..."
Vitality returned to Holmes’s dull eyes.
"...But I’m planning to witness one indirectly."
An unidentified lady, knocking on the door of the boarding house, had just come into Holmes’s view.
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"Come in!"
A moment later, when the knock sounded at the door, Holmes’s listless demeanor vanished completely. She called out with a lively spark in her voice.
—Creak...
The door opened cautiously, revealing a guest wearing a black robe and a mask. Hesitating for a moment at Holmes’s gesture, the lady sat on the sofa. As she removed her robe, she revealed extravagant clothing and a voluptuous figure.
"Which one of you is Charlotte Holmes?" the lady asked quietly, observing the two women.
"I am Charlotte Holmes."
"...I’d like to speak with you alone. I apologize to your friend, but could she please step out for a moment?"
Watson was about to rise, but Holmes stretched out her hand to stop her.
"If she cannot listen, then neither will I."
"Hmm..."
The lady bit her lip, pondering. A faint blue tinge was noticeable on the part of her face peeking out from beneath her mask. Even Watson could easily deduce the emotion hidden behind those shielded eyes.
"Alright. But promise me that you won't speak of this to anyone—at least until I die. It is a matter of such gravity that it could turn the entirety of Europe upside down."
"I see."
The lady began to speak, her voice trembling slightly.
"It concerns a grave matter involving a royal family of Europe."
"The House of Ormstein of the Kingdom of Bohemia, am I correct?"
"Yes, that’s correct. Though I am here as a representative and cannot reveal—"
The lady stopped mid-sentence, fixing her gaze on Holmes.
"What did you just say...?"
"Your Majesty, if you wanted to conceal your identity, you shouldn't have worn such a luxurious outfit."
The lady’s eyes widened in utter astonishment.
"Trying to deceive me when you are so well-known throughout the world was a mistake to begin with."
A momentary silence engulfed the room.
"...You’re right."
The lady, quivering slightly, threw off her mask and spoke with a resigned look.
"I am the Queen of the Kingdom of Bohemia."
"Yes, Your Majesty. I’ve known from the moment you entered our humble boarding house that you are Lillia Goetzreich Zigeismund von Ormstein."
"I apologize for my indiscretion. But I had no choice..."
"Well, there are situations that can't be helped. So, would you please begin by telling us what has transpired to bring you to me?"
Interrupting her, Holmes spoke with as much politeness as she could muster.
"To summarize briefly, it is this..."
The queen furrowed her brow, covering her face with both hands.
"Isaac Adler. I am on the brink of ruin because of that infamous young man. Do you happen to know him?"
"Watson, check my index."
Holmes gestured to a file containing information on numerous individuals. However, Watson shook her head before she could even move.
"No need. I’m quite familiar with him."
She spoke in a chilling tone.
"The greatest rascal in London. A charmer who has beguiled countless women. A despicable person who takes pleasure in destroying the women he involves himself with, both physically and emotionally."
"You seem to know quite a bit about him?"
"My patients at the hospital are his victims."
Holmes sneaked a glance at Watson, whose face was burning with anger, then shifted her gaze back to the queen.
"So, what kind of leverage does this Isaac Adler have over you?"
"A handwritten... um... that is... no, a slave contract..."
The queen stammered, looking unbridledly embarrassed.
"...He has something resembling a love letter from me."
As she avoided eye contact and stumbled over her words, Holmes scratched her head and posed another question.
"Did you perhaps have a secret marriage with the young man? Or did you engage in any legal contracts with him?"
"That’s not the case."
"Then I don’t see a problem. Handwriting can easily be imitated, and even if there’s a seal, you can claim it’s a forgery."
The queen lowered her head.
"He has a photograph."
"Any photograph of Your Majesty can easily be procured..."
"He has a photograph of the two of us together."
"Oh, dear... What exactly is in the photograph, Your Majesty...?"
The queen’s face turned a deep shade of red. She hesitated before continuing in a faltering voice.
"To be precise... I... I am lying face down on the floor with a collar around my neck... and the young man is stepping on my head..."
"........."
Holmes and Watson stared at her, stunned.
"Why on earth did you do such a thing?"
"I... I was out of my mind back then. I was young. Despite being a princess, I believed I could give my everything to him."
"I can't really comprehend this situation."
"Looking back now, neither can I. However, it definitely happened, and since yesterday, Isaac has started to use this incident to blackmail me."
The queen, her ears now as red as her face, poured her heart out in a pleading voice.
"Actually, there’s no time to discuss this. My wedding is set for the day after tomorrow. If he releases that photograph and the document... it will be the end of my life."
"Hmm."
"So, I’m asking for your help. I know it’s a challenging favor, but please retrieve the photograph and document within thirty-six hours."
"How do you intend to compensate me?"
"If you want, I can even give you half of my kingdom."
"What about the immediate expenses required for the task?"
As Holmes raised an eyebrow, the queen took out a hefty purse.
"I’ll pay three hundred pounds in gold coins along with seven hundred pounds in cash as a down payment."
"Agreed."
Holmes ripped a page from her notebook to write a receipt and handed it to the queen with a satisfied smile.
"Please write the man’s address here. Your Majesty should go back and get some rest."
"What do you mean?"
"We’ll bring you good news soon."
Only then did the queen, seemingly relieved, rise from her seat.
"...Be careful."
As she put on her mask and robe, she warned Holmes in a soft voice.
"Although he looks innocent and pure-faced, there is a devil lurking within Isaac."
With that, the queen quietly left the room.
"Anyway, I just can't comprehend it."
Holmes, who had remained seated in silence for some time, murmured as she rose.
"People get carried away by this inefficient emotion called love, ruining everything."
She looked at Watson.
"I believe I will never understand such people until the day I die, Watson."
By now, her tone had reverted to its usual self. Considering Holmes’s age, her previous manner of speaking was more natural, after all.
"Well, at least this case should serve as a distraction."
"But isn't the timeframe too tight? What are you planning to do?"
As Holmes got ready to head out, she answered Watson’s question with a gleam in her eye.
"I have a good plan in mind."
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The day after my first encounter with Professor Moriarty—
On the weekend, I was on my way to what would soon be my home.
"Hey, you there. Stop for a moment."
"Give me everything you have, and I’ll spare your life."
As I entered an alleyway near my neighborhood, a group of vagrants suddenly surrounded me and began to threaten me.
"No!"
I looked with a troubled expression at the thugs brandishing a club and a knife when suddenly a voice echoed from afar.
"Stop this at once!"
A seemingly frail young nun was approaching the scene, heading toward me and the vagrants.
This...
Only then did I fully grasp the situation.
...This is 100% Holmes.
It was as if the events of 'A Scandal in Bohemia' were being reenacted right before my eyes. Even though Holmes was dressed as a nun instead of a priest, the script was the same.
...I'm screwed.
As a die-hard fan of the Sherlock Holmes series, this was truly a bittersweet moment for me.