The Devil’s Due

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Two men seized my arms but, with a sudden heave, I freed myself and pushed through the crowd towards Holmes, inadvertently bumping into a young woman. ‘Pardon me, madam!’ I said, noting the beautiful young face fixed on mine. Her hand snaked into my pocket and she smiled in triumph. I pulled away in alarm, before remembering I carried nothing in that pocket. More people intervened, and I pushed through to my friend.

Holmes and I exchanged a look, locked arms, and rammed our way free. Before us was the path, and beyond that, Marble Arch, and the safety of others.

We ran.

A couple of the men followed hard on our heels, but the policeman’s whistle sounded, echoed by another, and our pursuers gave up the chase. We did not slow down until we were safe among the milling crowds near Marble Arch.

It was only when the drizzle became a sudden downpour that I realized I had lost my umbrella in the mob at Speakers’ Corner. ‘Devil take it,’ I said in exasperation. ‘My umbrella!’

‘Devil did take it indeed, Watson.’

We took shelter under the arch, but the rain slanted in to pelt us, nevertheless. Water poured off our hats and shoulders as crowds of businessmen hurried past under their umbrellas without a thought. We were back in modern London. Holmes and I eyed each other for one tense moment, then … burst out laughing.

‘You do look a touch satanic,’ I said, eyeing the rain dripping from Holmes’s black Homburg.

‘Apparently so, Watson.’

‘What’s this?’ I had put my hands in my pockets against the cold when I discovered a small card in the left one. I pulled it out. It had a strange, ornate blue and white pattern on one side. I turned it over.

‘Look at this!’ I exclaimed. ‘A young woman in the crowd – she must have placed it there.’

For there, in my hand, was a Tarot card, with a leering, horned figure, ornately drawn in black and white and blood red. The Devil!