4 The Greek Interpreter

The Greek Interpreter In all the years I had known him, Sherlock Holmes never spoke of his family. Perhaps this is why I sometimes saw him as a man without feelings. To Holmes, intelligence was more important than feelings of friendship and affection. With no friends or relatives, he was like a brain without a heart. So I was surprised when one day he began to talk about his brother. It was a summer evening, and Holmes and I were resting after dinner. Our conversation wandered from topic to topic. Somehow, we

started talking about the forces that shaped a person. We wondered if we inherited our character from our parents, the way a son might inherit his father's eyes, or a daughter her mother's hair. Or whether everything depended on how you were raised. "Well, Holmes," I said, "it seems to me your parents raised you in such a way that you couldn't have been anything but the great detective you turned out to be." "There is some truth in that, Watson," replied Holmes, "but I think it must run in the family. Take my older brother My croft. Though we were raised in the same way, his skills are much greater than mine, I assure you." "Then why isn't he as well known as you?" I asked. "He surely has stronger powers of observation and reasoning. But Mycroft isn't

interested in the other things that are needed to do my work. He does not have the energy to gather clues or hunt down suspects. He can't be bothered to roam the countryside, testing his ideas. So instead, Mycroft uses his skill with numbers to take care of certain matters for the government. "He is a creature of habit, Watson, and does the same things every day. In fact, if you would like to meet him, I would be happy to introduce him to you. He is always at the Diogenes Club at this time of day. We can walk over there now." "I have never heard of the Diogenes Club," I said after we had left Baker Street. "Few have," Holmes replied. "Its members are an odd group. They don't go to the club to meet other members. In fact, there is a rule that forbids them from talking to each other. No, they go there for the comfortable

chairs and the newspapers. And because it is one of the few places where they can be alone." We were soon at the Diogenes Club. Inside, I looked into a large room and saw a number of gentlemen sitting in armchairs. They were reading their newspapers. No one was speaking to anyone. Holmes explained that there was one room where conversation was allowed. He left me there, and I waited quietly. My friend soon returned with a large, heavyset man. It was his older brother, Mycroft Holmes. The brother's expression showed the same alertness as that of Holmes. "I am glad to meet you, Dr. Watson," said Mycroft. "Thanks to your stories about my brother's adventures, he is quite famous. By the way, Sherlock, I expected to hear from you last week. I thought you might want to know my thoughts on the Manor House case. It was Adams, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was Adams," said Holmes as we sat down. "I hope you like our club, Dr. Watson," Mycroft said as he looked out the window at the traffic in the street. "It is an excellent place to observe people. For example, the two men walking toward us ..." Holmes glanced over and said, "The billiard player and the other gentleman?" "Yes," replied Mycroft. "What do you make of the other?" The two men stopped outside the window to talk. I could see chalk marks on the jacket of the first man. The chalk was clearly from playing a game of billiards. The other man was very small, with dark, tanned skin. He wore a hat and carried several packages under his arm. "I would say he was a soldier," observed Holmes.

"He left the army recently," said Mycroft. "Served in India ..." "An officer ..." "Royal Artillery, I would say," added Holmes. "Ah, a widower," said Mycroft. "But with a child, my dear Mycroft." "Children, my dear Sherlock, children." "Really," I said with a laugh. "This is too much." "Not at all, Watson," answered Holmes. "Just look at how he stands and dresses, and how he carries himself. It is easy to see that this man was in the military and was an officer. As you know, many of our soldiers serve in India. His tanned skin suggests that he has recently returned from that country." Mycroft continued. "He is still wearing his military boots. That tells me he didn't leave the army long ago."