Sherlock's Secret War, File XII: "Mycroft Holmes -- Zombie!"

(From The Air-gun, Volume 4, No. 1, November 1988)

More Ramblings of Pader Vlkoslak as told to Brad Keefauver

"Now, when a fellow holds down a vital Post in 'er Majesty's government like Mycroft Holmes did, someone is always apt to be keeping an eye on him. Mycroft was especially the one to be guarded, as his brother was the most hated man in London (it’s only a criminal who truly knows how to hate) and his brother's biographer had made Mycroft's daily routine a matter of public record. Certain departments of Her Majesty's Government even went so far as to create a special branch of service -- the double-O's -- to maintain a subtle bodyguard service for the kingdom's most crucial citizen. The entire purpose of the double-O's was to keep Mycroft as safe as possible. Mycroft Holmes had enough on his mind without being distracted by the movements of an everpresent corps of bodyguards. So it was that the double-O's made Careers for themselves on the periphery of Mycroft Holmes's existence. Always in the background, the shadows, or the servants' quarters, they watched, waited, and protected.

"On the day Mycroft Holmes left England for the first and last time, two of the younger members of the guard, 008 and 004, had the Diogenes watch. When Mycroft left the club slightly ahead of his usual time, they noted the oddity and proceeded to follow him -- down to Her Majesty's shipyards. It was very strange to see the pivotal figure of the British government actually visiting one of the government's branchings, but the double-O's never questioned. This was Mycroft Holmes, after all. If anyone knew what he was doing, that big fella did. And if Mycroft Holmes decided it was necessary to board a naval vessel bound for Bermuda and stand as straight and stiff as a post on the prow of that vessel all the way to Bermuda, well, who was going to argue?

"That's just what Mycroft did, too. The ship's captain had seen enough of Whitehall to know the fat man on the front of his ship should be allowed to do whatever he wished to do, and if that meant doing nothing at all, that was fine, too. There was an intense look of purpose in Mycroft's eyes as he stared out at the sea ahead (and only the sea ahead). He seemed to know what he was doing. If he took no food, then it must have been all that body fat he wanted to live on. If he took no water . . . maybe he was taking water at night when nobody was looking. Not a soul on the ship wasn't used to bowing to the often silly ideas of higher authorities in their years working for the government -- the man plainly wanted to stand out on the front of a ship for the entire trip across the Atlantic; why he did was his own business.

"When the ship finally neared Bermuda, Mycroft Holmes was a changed man. The salty sea air and sun had baked and toughened his skin to leather, and the wind and waves tore his clothes to rags. He also lost a few pounds, but could still be described as “rotund,” “massive,” or “fairly obese.” It was about this time, in that area of the Atlantic sailors know as the “Devil's Triangle,” Mycroft made his first independent action since coming aboard ship; he jumped off the side. As the ship was rocking through a blinding storm at the time, no rescue attempts could be made. The double-O's were never to see the body it was their raison d’etre to guard ever again -- 008 and 004 were expelled from the service, and their brethren began looking for other clandestine work.

"They tell me that fat People float real well, and everybody knows a corpse'll float to the surface every time. My thought on the matter is that by the time Mycroft reached Haiti, he was bobbing like a cork. I couldn't tell you at what point in the trip his soul departed this earth and left an empty husk behind; it may have even remained in London to start with. When what was left of Mycroft Holmes arrived at Papa Lembo's doorstep, however, it was definitely one of the corps cadavre. Papa didn't connect the extremely large zombie at his door with his seemingly failed attempt to voodoo the British Empire into coming to Haiti, but why look a gift zombie in the mouth?

"This last part is the hardest to believe of all. Mycroft served the Lembo family for many years, eventually being passed down to Jonni Lembo, Papa’s grandson. Jonni used the family wangas and pouins to make considerable financial success for himself in the States, and eventually retired to one of the major cities in Arizona. Jonni Lembo died there last year, leaving Mycroft without a houngan to guide him. That was right about the time the walking-for-exercise craze caught on with the old folks there, though, so nobody noticed one more dried-up body wandering the streets. He's been constantly walking the streets down there, looking for a houngan or mambo, ever since. Another one of the old Baker Street boys who keeps more in touch with old Sherlock Holmes than I do told me that Mr. Holmes is going to finally put his brother's body to rest. He's a busy man, though, so who knows how long that will take."

(At this point, Pader went on to tell about just what Sherlock is doing now, which is news best saved for a world not quite so ready for it . . .)