The journey from Christchurch to Mitre Square is less than a mile as the crow flies. One lies within the deepest darkest parts of East London seething with the concentrated masses of a dozen immigrant populaces the other in the sanctified marble and sandstone porticoes of the great City of London itself. Holmes knew these Streets as well as any man alive and every nook and cranny that might cast light on the complex evil web that spread before him. Hours past in diligent yet fruitless inquiry, from the costermongers of Spitalfields to the resplendent top hatted bankers and tycoons of Liverpool Street. Finally weary, disheveled and almost at a total loss he found himself at the Armenian bathhouse adjacent to the great Masonic Temple in Mitre Square.
"You would care to take a bath before resting? We have arranged for some clothes and boots to be acquired to your measurements and they should arrive by the completion of your toilette."
Holmes nodded eagerly. Certainly his ablutions of the morning had been adequate but the luxury of a real bath was too good to refuse. Vilis clapped his palms together and a male attendant dressed in very traditional Kurdish attire answered the call.
"Please follow Tomas Mister Holmes. He will show you to the bath and steam room that adjoins. Do not concern yourself it is totally at your individual and personal disposal. There is another floor below that others can utilize."
Holmes followed the man through the door to find himself in a long corridor he took to run the length of the entire building. The central part of the floor was carpeted with a deep piled weave that seemed to absorb every noise from footfall. Tomas moved silently ahead and Holmes holding the hems of the long towel gown he had been supplied to replace his soiled and tattered clothes followed dutifully. Each door to left and right drew his attention and he noted absentmindedly that each was numbered in even leaps.
Tomas opened the second last door on the right and gestured for Holmes to enter. He found himself in a predbannick, the room being totally covered from floor to ceiling with heavy wooden planking inducing the feel and smell of a pine forest on a very hot summer's day. A row of hooks lined one wall, divided by vertical sheets of timber, producing the effect of cubicles without actually allowing for any particular degree of privacy. Holmes was quite at home in a bath house and without a thought stripped his robe at once. He began to carefully arrange the discarded garment upon a hook but with a chiding cough Tomas took the toweling robe and placed it in a large wooden chest designed for just this purpose. A little further along were stacked a vast array of white and colored towels and again gesturing for Holmes to follow Tomas handed him a white bath sheet of quite enormous size.
Holmes struggled to successfully drape the towel around his skinny frame but eventually, probably frustrated by his ham handed attempts Tomas with some dexterity arranged the material in a good imitation of a toga. Stepping back to nod with satisfaction Tomas again led him through a further door to a quite sumptuous tiled and mirrored bathroom. The central tub was at least six feet square and the sides high enough to allow a large man to sit with water up almost to his chin. The water in the bath was steaming and Holmes considered diving straight in.
A sharp cough at his left elbow shook his attention away from the pools immense pull and to a series of wall mounted shower units running along a raised tiled trough. Walking to a door inset a little further down Tomas cracked it sufficiently for Holmes to see that it contained both closet and urinal. With some pomp and presumed completed duties after this unveiling Tomas bowed stiffly and backed towards the predbannick before turning with great grace and stepping silently through the entrance. Holmes stood for a moment and contemplated the stillness. Apart from the gentle bubble that came from the circulated water in the steaming tub no sound entered the space. He was amazed how silently everybody moved and with such grace and precision. London was generally a cacophony of noise from dawn to dusk wherever one settled even for a moment and he had come to accept quiet as an impossibility. Now suddenly to find himself surrounded by utter peace was almost alarming.
"Like the interior of a tomb."
The words escaped his mouth without intention and he laughed involuntarily. He absentmindedly stroked the day stubble on his chin and again considered whether as beard or mustache might serve his serious nature better.
"That would feel rough for kissing!"
Holmes laughed again and then quietened as the room echoed His mirth back, almost mockingly. He stoked the twelve hour shadow again, but this time just smiled. Stepping towards the first shower head in line he proceeded to look for a control. He was amazed to find that just approaching sufficiently produced a deluge of water automatically.
"Motion activated, how very convenient."
The water was a little on the tepid side and Holmes stepped sideways to avoid the stream for a moment. His movement activated the second head which produced quite as strong a volume but just a little warmer. The first shower head ceased to spray and dripped a little in indignation at its so speedy abandonment. Holmes shimmied right again and with some satisfaction received an even warmer dousing from the third head.
"Know I get the idea. How very clever."
By the time he had reached the sixth head he was not only suitably clean but the water had heated sufficiently to prepare his skin for the pool. He quickly flew from one to the other, taking full advantage of the two tiled steps to plunge happily into the appreciatively hot brew.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh."
He was beginning to become accustomed to talking out loud to no one in particular. Silence has that effect.
The water was very hot, almost to the point of discomfort, but not quite. Holmes sat with his back pressed against a corner of the square perfectly tiled bath and tilting his head back gazed at the ceiling. At first glance the expanse was bare but then with growing amazement he began to see the outlines of shapes and figures appear. The mural was painted white on white, only carefully scanning his eyes repeatedly across the seeming flat surface allowed him to differentiate the slight variance in shades that with concentration produced a stunning three dimensional diorama. Clearly he saw into a room, the floor and lower parts of the walls covered in what seemed to be wood overlaid in heavy precious metal leaf. The room contained two figures, each of them having four faces and four wings, the outer wings of each touching the walls to either side, the inner wings meeting tip to tip in the center. A heavy veil hung from the ceiling behind the statues, the material multi-patterned in three distinctly different shades.
"Well Mister Holmes it appears you have been seen through the artist's deception to the room beyond."
"What is it Vilis?"
"Why it is the Kodesh Hakodashim, the Holy of Holies, the Inner Room of Solomans Temple. That is where the Israelites God lives, behind the curtain."
Holmes looked hard at Vilis. Solomans Temple was something he had often heard mentioned in the days of his childhood.
"Your Father himself had great knowledge about the temple and its mysteries, as have all your antecedents before you. You will come to have answers to all your questions in time, but now it is important that your rehabilitation proceeds directly."
Vilis stepped to blue and white marble sideboard that took up much of the wall to Holmes' right and reaching into a nook withdrew a silver hand bell. Having rung three peels He opened a drawer and moved to stand by the bath steps carrying two large white, very absorbent looking toweling sheets.
"Your attendants will be here shortly. Please step out of the bath at your leisure and take ease upon the marble massage table. I will leave these towels here on the steps for your comfort. Please feel free to use anything you need or as your pleasure demands."
Stooping just long enough to place the sheets upon the steps Vilis again backed a few steps before with his usual polite bow turned and left. Holmes felt slightly uneasy, he was full of questions now and had the strongest suspicion that it would be considered very improper to press for the answers he sought to early.
"Patience Sherlock, patience. How often must you be told? Be patient."
