The Scottish Ploy Read Online Free PDF

unaware of him.” He paused. “I do not intend to confuse you.”
    “Of course not,” said Mycroft Holmes smoothly. “I know the insularity of which you speak. Turks are not the only ones to practice it.” He essayed a chuckle. “The English villager is much the same.”
    “It may be so,” Mister Kerem conceded, returning to his topic with full deliberation. “I cannot think what I am to do. I have come this far and now my trail grows cold, and I fear this can only mean dire consequences for Yujel, though I try not to despair of finding him. I know my brother came here on the Princess Fatima and arrived five weeks ago. Other than that, I can find nothing to point to what has become of him.”
    “Did you go to the police?” Mycroft inquired, with a quick glance in my direction to make sure I put down the answer fully and accurately.
    Mister Kerem scowled. “They did not listen to me. One of the senior officers told me I was mistaken. They would do nothing.”
    “And so you sought me out. Now why is that?” Mycroft Holmes asked in a voice so bland that I was instantly on the alert.
    “I was told by an official at the Admiralty that you might be able to help me.” He shrugged. “So I determined to find you.” He looked down at his feet. “It was no simple thing, I can tell you. I must assume you have enemies, Mister Holmes?”
    “What public servant does not?” Mycroft Holmes answered, dismissing the possibility with such sangfroid that I was more alarmed than before. “You learned my direction and came to me with some difficulty.”
    “Yes,” said Mister Kerem. “I was chased by hooligans down an alley. They threatened to beat me and rob me—”
    “That, lamentably, might have happened anywhere in London, and for no reason other than you are a stranger here,” Holmes told him. “Why do you say that it was connected to me?”
    “Because one of the men warned me to stay away from you.” Mister Kerem looked a bit shamefaced admitting this. “I was very much shocked.”
    “So might you be,” said Mycroft Holmes, and rose. “I am going to see what has become of Tyers and our tea. Do you Guthrie, look after our guest.”
    I mumbled some words that might be assent, and I made a bigger show of opening my portfolio to take more notes. “You were saying about this European man, whom you believe is responsible for the disappearance of your brother ...” I left the end open, so that he would be inspired to expand on his suppositions.
    “It was a most dreadful thing,” said Mister Kerem. “I had paid no heed to anything my brother told me, yet he had expressed his apprehensions most clearly.”
    “How was that?” I asked, and paused at the sound of something breaking and a muffled oath from the back of the house. I recovered and went on. “Precisely what did he say?”
    “He said that he had seen the man watching him,” said Mister Kerem in the dramatic manner he had used before. “He knew that the man wanted more than kisses.”
    “But a look and his suspicions would not be enough for such conviction as you have now, surely,” I said, hoping to draw him out.
    “You do not understand how it is,” said Mister Kerem in exasperation. “If you had seen this man, you would have known that he would attempt anything nefarious.”
    “You did not listen to your brother, but you had similar apprehensions?” I pursued.
    “I did not comprehend the whole of the danger,” said Mister Kerem.
    I considered my next question. “You did not respond to this threat until your brother’s misfortune—is it possible there might be another explanation?”
    “It was the foreigner who took him,” Mister Kerem insisted with some heat.
    “You believe this because he was a foreigner?” I asked, and saw that I had offended the Turk.
    “That would be inhospitable,” Mister Kerem declared, sulking.
    I wondered what I might do to recover the advantage I had had only moments ago. Fortunately, Mycroft Holmes