Once Upon an Agent by Jackie Blake (psychology books to read TXT) 📖

Chapter one –Good Riddance-

 

 

 

“I know that it’s stupid.” I say to my training partner, Edward Penn, as I sip from my whiskey.“It’s more than stupid. It’s idiotic.” Edward says laughing. “Lovely that you can find something about my situation to chuckle about.” I say to him, finishing my bottle. “You know I care for you, Mary. You are like my own flesh and blood. But telling Dr. Watson who you are, an agent, would be putting us all in danger.” He says digging underneath the bar behind the bartender’s back and fishing out another bottle of their finest whiskey for me.

I take off the top and take a swig, feeling it burn all the way down my throat. One of the only comforts I have nowadays. Yes, I am aware. I’m an alcoholic.

 

“I envy you, Edward. You are engaged to someone who actually knows who you are. John doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t even know what my birth name is!” I feel on the verge of tears, but I carry on.

“Do you know what that is like, Edward? Having someone you love being in the dark of who you truly are? It’s terrible! I hate lying to him. I hate playing this game of shadows. I hate living two different lives. Most of all, I hate wearing trousers!” I yell. Oops.

I grab the whiskey and head toward the door as I feel the curious faces look toward the source of that last sentence. Right as I’m at the door I feel a hand on my arm.

I turn on my heels and slap Edward, making his head snap sideways.

I leave with the unpaid whiskey bottle in my hand, muttering under my breath ‘Good riddance’.

 

 

I navigate the foggy streets of London, England. Winding through the endless streets toward the house I share with my best friend, tipping back the rest of the whiskey.

I throw the bottle aside and I hear it shatter.

Then as I continue down an alley I hear someone breathing right behind me.

I sigh. I really just want to get home.

Someone grabs my arm and spins me around to face them.

“Well, look at we have here boys. A red haired lady.” The leader says snaking his arm around my waist as three more men come out of the fog.

I grab his arm and snap it backwards, breaking the bone. Then I shove my palm into his shoulder and hook my foot behind his knee, making him slam to the ground.

I turn toward the group and say, ‘Boo’.

 

 

 

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

I awake to the sound of someone knocking on the door. My door? No. Mercy, my best friend, knows never to wake me until I get up myself after I’ve been drinking. But the knocking continues.

I finally climb out of bed and get dressed.

I head downstairs, silently wishing for another whiskey. But I guess tea will have to do.

I head into the parlor. And stop in my tracks.

It’s Sherlock Holmes.

A smile appears on my face, even at the looming of a headache.

 

“Good Morning. How are you?” Sherlock says standing.

“I’m well. What do I owe the pleasure of your company this Morning?” I ask.

It’s not that I don’t mind you around, but not this early. It’s too early for anyone, and I really mean me, to behave. I think to myself as I sit down in the chair across from him.

“Miss Morsin. I have received a letter-“Sherlock begins but I cut him off.

“Mr. Holmes, may I ask how this is any of my concern?”

“It had your name on it, Miss Morsin.” he says.

 

“Impossible. I did not send any letter to you.” I say. I knew this for sure.

Sherlock unfolds a piece of paper and sets it in front of me.

I quickly read it over. He was right, it was signed by me. I was more horrified at what the letter contained.

 

I am an Agent for the company British London Private Investigators.

 

No! Who could have betrayed me like this?

“One thing you have missed, Mr. Holmes. I do not work at all. If I did work for-for this company, I surely would not tell you.” I lie. One thing was true. I would not tell him that I work for the British London.

“Why ever not?” he demands.

I stand. Even though a headache was pounding on my brain, I am not about to be messed with or tricked into confessing. I am much smarter than that.

 

“Because, Mr. Holmes, you are a complete fool! You think that an agent would ever confess to being one? That would put them in danger! The only way an agent would tell is if they are tortured into it.” I say, my fists clenching ready to hit something.

 

 

“You have offended me, Mr. Holmes. I must ask you to leave.” I say.

“Mary-“

I glare at him.

“You may see yourself out. Good day.” I say exiting the room, telling a servant to make sure that Sherlock gets out.

I pinch the bridge of my nose wishing I didn’t have a headache.

 

Dammit I really need a whiskey.

 

 

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

“Mercy?” I open the door to the library to find her staring out the window. “Mercy, whatever is the matter?” I ask her stepping into the room and closing the door behind me.

She turns to me and smiles, ignoring my question.

“Mary. How are you?” she asks, seeing my face she frowns.

“He is on to me, Mercy.” I say running a hand through my hair, making the pins come out.

“Who is?” she hands me a mirror an obvious hint to how I look.

“Sherlock Holmes! He received a letter from someone trying to blow my cover.”

I sigh and drop into a chair setting the mirror aside.

“Who would do that?” Mercy ponders this news.

“I don’t know, but what I do know, is that this person knows who I am, and will do whatever it takes to ruin my life.” I say.

 

I pick up the mirror and peer at my reflection. What I see is a pale lady with long flowing auburn hair, looking very scared.

I shake my head and hand the mirror back to Mercy.

“What’s going to happen, Mary?” Mercy asks.

I bury my face in my hands.

“It’s going to be bad, Mercy. Very, very bad.” I say.

 

Later that day, I receive a note from John Watson, inviting me to dine with Sherlock and him. And to invite Mercy along.

I show the card to Mary and she agrees that we should go.

With that, I am off.

 

 

I arrive at the restaurant, with Mercy by my side.

“Be careful, Mercy. Sherlock will try to get the truth out of you.” I whisper in her ear as we enter.

 

John helps me into my seat while Sherlock does the same for Mercy.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Swayne.” John says to my best friend.

I could tell that she was nervous, but I had faith in her.

“Yes, a pleasure. Tell me, Mercy Swayne, how you know Mary Morsin.”

I silently curse. He is going to make her break down and tell him. Either that or she’ll faint.

“Well, Mary and I grew up together.” She says smoothly. I was proud of her.

“Fascinating since underneath your dress-“Sherlock begins, but I cut him off.

“You better stop that sentence, Mr. Holmes.”

“You have a gun hidden in a holster tied to your ankle.” He finishes.

Mercy blushes, but now I’m furious.

“Mr. Holmes. Stop.” I say.

“Shush Mary.” He says.

And do you know what I do next?

I hit Sherlock in the nose.

 

I grab Mercy’s hand and we leave a shocked John and Sherlock to their dinner.

And in the carriage I cry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter two –Quite Contrary-

 

 

 

It’s afternoon and I’m on my way to the agency with Mercy and Jasper.

Jasper is Mercy’s fiancé. Also he’s part of the Gentleman’s division of the company.

He used to work for the Scotland Yard until he was transferred to the Bristish London Agency.

Mercy is talking to him and repeatedly looks at me. But I don’t want to talk.

I ignore the two lovebirds and focus on watching the streets that we pass.

We pass 221B Baker Street and I see John in the top window with his back turned toward the street.

As if he can feel me staring he turns his head and peers straight down at me.

I turn my face away from the carriage window so he doesn’t see me.

Finally we turn off Baker Street and I start to breathe regularly again.

I turn to Mercy and I throw my arms around her.

She strokes my hair that is coming loose from their pins.

“It will be alright Mary. You’ll see.” She keeps saying.

 

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

 

I open the door to the Director’s office.

I step inside shutting the door softly behind me; my heart is beating so quickly it almost hurts.

The Director is sitting in her chair facing me.

"Welcome, Agent Mary Morsin. I trust you are in good health?" she says. And I smile back as I reply,
"Yes, Director. You as well?" I had to be on my guard around this lady, for the first time I ever met her she through a knife at me. She told me it was to test to see if I had quick enough movement. And I'm still alive to tell about it.

 

“Mary Morsin, you have come a long way since I first met you when you were sixteen years of age. How many years has it been now? Seven?” she asks. I nod.

“Director, may I ask what it is that you would like to talk to me about?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.

 

“I have a mission for you, Mary.” She says.

I frown. Usually my missions come on parchment. Not in person.

“Yes, Director. Anything.”

She smiles even broader.

“I need you to kill Lord Blackwood.”

 

“Kill Lord Blackwood? But I can’t!” I say.

She stands. “And why ever not?” she demands.

“Because killing someone would be wrong.” I say.

“Mary, I like you. You are a very good agent and you have always done what was asked of you, without question. Why begin now?”

I set my badge on her desk. “I quit.” I say.

I turn to leave and have my hand on the door knob when I hear her say,

“Contract.”

 

I freeze. I turn to her, taking my hand from the knob.

“What about my contract?” I ask.

She pulls out a piece of paper from her desk drawer and sets it on top facing me.

“You are bound to the company for another three months, Mary.”

When you join with this company you have to sign a contract that binds you to them for an amount of time. For me, I had eight years in my original pact.

 

“Mary, if you break any part of your contract, it is means for you to be arrested.” She says, even though I already knew this.

Angry, I turn toward the door again. “Fine, I’ll do it.” I say.

“Mary.”

I turn my head to look at her.

"One last thing before you go..."
        *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

 

I open the door to the living quarters of a late scientist I knew.

Strange, it is unlatched. I take a few steps into the first room.

And that is when I hear voices come from somewhere inside the apartment.

I hide in the shadows as the voices come closer.

Familiar voices. As they pass me by I hold my breath,