September 1930

They were waiting for me when I arrived at the tiny flat I'd taken in Fribourg, two slabs of stupid whose primary attribute was every muscle except the one between their respective ears. I'd never been handled roughly in my life to that point; one of them grabbed me, the other slapped me and my world spun dizzily for several moments. The next thing I remembered was snapping to acute awareness in the cool air outside and seeing a lone man walking across the street.

I screamed, the thug who held me slapped a dirty hand over my mouth. Infuriated, I kicked back against his legs and screamed again when his hand slipped.

That was when I first met Chow Wu Long. He exploded into those two witless wonders like personal fury and when they went down, they didn't get back up. He gently pushed me to one side and stood between me and the two remaining torpedoes who jumped out of the car.

"Kindly leave before you contract the same illness which has befallen your friends," he said -- in passable German.

They weren't any smarter than their predecessors, and had a more limited vocabulary besides. Wu Long dispatched them both with no wasted motions, then turned to me as mildly as if he were remarking upon the weather.

"I suggest you contact the local authorities to have these beasts properly caged," he said with a bow. "However, I have business here with a local resident of the utmost importance. If you would, please honor my simple request and tell me how I may reach Miss Mercedes Moriarty?"

"Lift up your hand."

Curious, he complied. I took his hand in mine. "You've reached her. And she thanks you very much for your timely intervention, just now."

His eyes lit up at that, making seem much younger than I (though I discovered later that he was several years older) He was the first Chinaman I'd ever seen, and though I suddenly had 14 questions to ask him, one of the slabs of meat began to stir. I knew we didn't have much time.

"You can tell me about it later," I said, kicking the early riser in the head then kneeling to search his pockets. "For now, let's see if the opposition is giving us any real clues as to who he, or she, is."

My father had given me a thorough education in the workings of the criminal mind, and I was almost certain that four men would not abduct one lone young woman unless they'd been ordered to do so by someone with more authority than they had. By the time we'd gathered their wallets, money, and other pocket trivia, it was obvious to me that they were indeed hired help -- and they wouldn't be the last.

Wu Long bowed again. "What do you wish done with these men?"

"Just inside the door there," I nodded toward my apartment building, "there is another door that leads down to the cellar. Toss them down the stairs then set the door to lock when it closes."

He did, giving me a moment's pause when he picked up those inert bodies two at a time to dispose of them. But, by the time he'd finished I'd gone through the the car. It was an older model with an Italian bill of purchase in the glove box, to one "Giancarlo Giuseppe Giannini."

Those men had spoken German, not Italian.

I was not unaware of my father's reputation in Europe at that time, even so many years after his supposed death -- he'd kept copies of every issue of Strand magazine with his old nemesis' exploits in it and I had read them all at his request.

German thugs. An Italian car. And a polite Chinaman who had business with Mercedes Moriarty.

"We need to speak." It was Wu Long, with another bow. "In private if possible. As soon as possible."

I glanced up and down the street. It was quiet enough, but those lace curtains in the windows of nearby homes were twitching. "Let's switch to English then. You speak that too, yes? Come upstairs with me," I told him, nodding in agreement. "I need to pack some things. Then we're getting out of here."

---

Wu Long silently followed Mercedes up the stairs, the curve of her figure distracting him for only a moment.

Focus, Wu Long. Remember your duty and the honor of the family, he chided himself.

If Mercedes noticed, she gave no indication. She led him up three flights of stairs to a nondescript door. It unlocked with her key and then they were in the "efficiency" flat, one big room with a large window that overlooked the university and the quadrangle at its heart, some distance away. She knew her landlady would not approve of her "entertaining a gentleman" in her room -- or, more likely, would throw her out for letting a Chinaman through the door.

It didn't matter. She wouldn't be here much longer anyway. "So, do you have a name?"

The diminishing flush on Wu Long's face did not come from the many steps they had climbed.

Composing himself quickly, he asked, "Before I tell you that, do you have proof that you are who you say you are? I don't mean to insult you but I have traveled a long way to find the daughter of James Moriarty. I have to be sure that you are her before I can speak of my mission. "

It surprised her. "I have a school registration that says I made claims about my identity when I came here." She thought, head tilting to one side, rather displaying the darkening bruise on her cheek from the earlier blow. "And some letters from my mother, and the family coat of arms, of course."

Mercedes rifled through a desk, quickly producing said documents, the documentation on the coat of arms in a leather folio. "Take a look and see if that convinces you. I can't wait too much longer to find out. Those thugs will be back with reinforcements, which means I'd better be as far from Fribourg as I can manage, before they do."

Wu Chow accepted the documents carefully, handling them as if they would shatter if treated roughly. From a pocket in his jacket he pulled out a picture of a coat of arms identical to the ones that Mercedes had handed him.

Nodding, he bowed to her three times and spoke earnestly. "Miss Moriarty. I am Doctor Wu Long Chow of the family Chow from Canton, China. I have come here seeking you because of a debt and a promise made to your father by my honorable grandfather Dai Long Chow."

Doctor. My father. A debt? His grandfather? Her lovely face closed down as she integrated that information, a fractional second later realizing that it was incomplete. "What kind of doctor, Doctor? And what kind of debt?"

Wu Long took a focusing breath and then proceeded to answer her questions. "I am a Doctor of Medicine both Chinese and Western. I received my Doctorate from Nanjing University. I am a licenced Physician in China, Germany, France, Switzerland and England. When we conclude our business here I will be happy to show you my
certifications."

Not wavering from her gaze he continued, "The debt is a life debt. Your father risked harm to himself by bodily protecting my grandfather from the guns of the Chinese Imperial Army. In addition he provided arms and other resources to the rebellion that my grandfather served."

That got her full attention. "My father did that? Professor Moriarty -- such a heroic gesture?" She blinked, her pale blue eyes extremely thoughtful. "How extraordinary of him. Your grandfather must have impressed him greatly."

Wu Long smiled proudly. "My grandfather was an ancient master of secrets and a man of honor to his death."

Still thoughtful, Mercedes paused in her packing and moved to the sideboard where a small burner unit and a teapot rested. She took two cups and prepared tea for them both, using the small domestic motions to mask her rapid-fire thoughts.

"I knew the more famous of my father's enemies, of course. But until now I had not realized he'd had... friends." It's obvious that the concept is very difficult to relate to the man she knew as James Moriarty. "Understand that in my memories he is more icon than father-figure. Always quite alone and content to be so."

She turned to face him, waiting for the water to boil, eyes sparkling in curiosity. "Do you want to know where he is? Is that why you've come?"

Wu Long Chow paused in his appraisal of her, his eyes meeting hers as she posed her questions to him. "Well.. I... ", he sputtered briefly, "I supposed that he was somewhere beyond reach by this time. However if you do know where I can find him, then my obligation would return to him instead of to you."

The corners of her full mouth curled upward ever so slightly. "My father has not seen fit to contact me in five years, I'm afraid. It doesn't stop those who hated, feared, or admired him from tracking me down to ask me." Pale brows flickered. "Politely or forcefully."

Mercedes turned back to the whistling teapot and poured two cups. "I do not know where he is, Dr. Chow. But I would suggest that perhaps your obligation is fulfilled. With the dispatch of those bully boys, who should be waking soon. I should be gone before they do. Drink quickly. Milk? Sugar? Lemon?"

Wu Long smiled politely and said softly, "None of the above unless this is Indian tea. In that case I will have one lump of sugar, please."

He thought, That is one trouble with Westerners, they are always in such a rush. Even under these circumstances, some things should simply be enjoyed. A moment of frustration crossed his face then as quickly passed before he replied.

"Please do not rush something as precious as tea for the fear of those whom I have struck down. They will not be arising for at least an hour or more. Even then, they will require assistance to do more than crawl."

Mercedes Moriarty was a small woman, but not a fearful one. "Well, you are the doctor," she said, that smile flickering at the corners of her mouth again. "Please sit. Enjoy your tea. I'd like to hear more of this story, if you'd care to share it."

"My father and I each have spent years locating your father or any of his descendants," Wu replied. "In all that time, my father has died and this is the closest that either of us have come to finding him.

"I spoke of a debt and a promise to your father, while the debt may be discharged, the promise my father died for is still unfulfilled. My grandfather promised your father the assistance of the eldest son of our family, if he should call on us for assistance. Your father sent a letter asking for the fulfillment of that promise sometime before his
accident at the falls. Unfortunately by the time the letter reached my family home in China, James Moriarty had apparently fallen to his death."

"Intriguing." Mercedes sipped her tea, eyes narrowed in thought. "As you now know, he did not die in that fall, though most of the rest of the world believes he did. Unfortunately, I have no idea what he might have needed from your father, or you, Dr. Chow. Nor am I sure why those goons attacked me tonight unless it was to force my
father's whereabouts from me somehow."

Then she frowned. "Or to force him into the open, under the mistaken premise that he might bear some affection for me..."

Between a slow sips of his tea, Wu Long nodded. Placing the tea cup down he continued, "Given the abilities of my family and the tone of his note, he seemed to require our martial and other skills in an anticipated encounter with one of his many enemies."

"Holmes," Mercedes agreed softly. The name was inflected somehow, but whether with awe or disgust, it was difficult to say.

Having said that, he paused to look directly at her eyes, before he continued. "But the agreement that was made in China was that our assistance would be for life. In as much as I am unable to fulfill our family agreement with your father, it now passes to you. Unless of course, your father should tell me or a member of my family otherwise."

Mercedes, of course, had no context for the presentiment that struck her as his eyes met hers so directly, that sense of truth that went far beyond the spoken, or what could be discerned with any of the five grosser senses. She felt it though, and noticed it, and filed it away for later examination.

"Why?" She asked instead, crossing her slender legs at the knees. "Why should you uproot your entire life, leave your family, your wife and children, to travel around half the world to fulfill a promise made by your grandfather, to my father? Some would say it directly affects neither of us."

He smiled softly as if he anticipated the question or perhaps had asked it of himself. Again speaking in earnest he answered, "First, because it is in the nature of my family to honor all of our commitments. Most importantly, because without the actions of your father, neither of us would be seated here enjoying this cup of tea. As to my family, I am
doing what they want from me out of respect for our traditions and the honor of my grandfather. As to wife and children, I have neither. Yet."

A small smile crossed his face with his last words. It met with one of hers -- they understood each other.

"So you're stuck with me until my father turns up to tell you otherwise? Is that the essence of it?"

Wu Long smiled again and shook his head. "Those are harsh words for an agreement between honorable men which has led me to your side. One might believe that you feel your presence to be a burden to those around you, I will have to relieve you from that delusion. But to answer your question, yes. As I represent my family, you represent yours. I will be beside you or before you until the essentials of our destiny change."

"Family representatives." She laughed briefly, a silvery sound. It didn't sound particularly mirthful. "Well then. I'm pleased to meet you, Doctor Chow."

He smiled at her again, deciding that he liked her laugh. He also decided that he would like it better with mirth, another goal to achieve in their relationship.

"Please, Miss Moriarty, you may call me Wu Long if I am not working in my professional capacity. I always think of Dr. Chow as being my grandfather." He bowed to her again, "It is my pleasure to finally greet you as well. When time and circumstance permit, I shall inform my family of our happy meeting."

"Then you probably ought to call me `Mercedes,' since I don't have a professional capacity to speak of. Is tea the only thing your family tends to savor slowly?"

The subtle suggestion of her last question struck him like a punch in the face. He looked at her curiously and then regained his composure with a slight sip from his cup of tea. He locked her eyes with his and replied calmly, "No, we savor as many of life's pleasures as we can. Slowly, so they can be appreciated in their fullness. I am reminded of a technique passed down from father to son that when applied with the proper slowness, can relieve many... tensions. Especially those common to women."

"I'll have to remember that," she said, hints of a smile peeking out from around her teacup. "The next time I feel... tense."

She sipped the last of her tea, then arose to rinse the cup at the tiny sink. "As much as I'd like to indulge your indulgences, my new friend, we should be making plans. The car was an Italian one, the hired muscle, German, maybe Austrian. Which means our best bet to escape is France, I think. Have you taken rooms here in Fribourg? If you're going
with me, you'll need to get your things."

Wu Long stood quickly and rinsed out his cup as well, setting it besides hers on the sink. "I have few indulgences Mercedes. The few pleasures I do enjoy have always been between periods of self-improvement, responsibility, and honor. Yet, I think we both shall discover way to enjoy life more in the coming days. My few possessions are in a locker at the train station, I am ready to leave when you are. Shall I help you pack your necessities?"

Mercedes glanced about the small room. "No. It won't take long. Here, take this," she said, pressing a handkerchief into his hands with her monogram embroidered on it. "Drive that car around to the other side of the block, park it. Wipe down every surface you touched, toss the keys into the sewer, then come back. I'll be ready when you get back."

At first looking confused at the handkerchief in his hands, Wu Long started to speak. He then thought better of it and moved quickly out of the door. Mercedes turned to finish her packing and write three short letters. One she left propped on her nightstand; the other two were placed carefully in her purse.

When he returned, his clothes and hair were more ruffled than they were when he left. "Many apologies for the lateness of my return Mercedes, my inability to operate a motorcar proved a difficulty to the completion of my task. However, I did finish your
instructions."

There was much mirth in the silvery laughter that erupted at his statement, cut short when she clapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes continued to dance with repressed humor, even when she uncovered her mouth to speak.

"My apologies instead, Wu Long. My father would doubtless be disappointed in me for making that assumption."

Wu Long looked and her and smiled. "Your apology is accepted. And while your laughter is at my expense, it is worth the few troubles I suffered in moving the vehicle. As far as your father's disappointment.I doubt it. I think he would be pleased that you are keeping your calm under the circumstances."

Her mirth still abruptly as it had emerged. "No. He'd simply expect that," she said, shouldering her traveling bag and purse. "We can catch the night's last train to France tonight if we move swiftly. Unless I'm sadly mistaken -- and my inexperience could be my downfall here -- our adversary won't have time to counter. We can disappear again and cause him to expend resources to find us. If we're extremely fortunate, we'll learn more about him when he does.

"And if we are not fortunate," she added with another half-smile as she turned toward the door, "then at least we will have bought time."

Before they stepped out of the door, Wu Long put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. "No matter if we are fortunate or we are not, between the two of us, our adversary is due for continuous frustration and failure."

He smiled, seeking to assure her of his ongoing support. "Despite your opinion of your father, I am surprised and pleased that you are so easily able to live up to the expectations of someone of your honorable heritage."

"I have only knowledge about James Moriarty. Not opinion," she whispered, flipping the light switch and abruptly pitching the room into shadow. Her hair gleamed like silver in the ambient light from the window, and her eyes looked like glass, so clear Wu Long could see an echo of his own reflection. Just beneath, confusion tumbled through Mercedes like a river after a torrential rain, scattering logic and thought like boulders on a flood plain. It was an uncomfortable sensation, and she stepped back from Wu Long, seeking relief from it.

"I am his daughter, after all." Her voice was unsteady, she cleared her throat and glanced at the door. "Let's go."