Sherlock Holmes and the Four Corners of Hell

by Seamas Duffy

  ‘I am completely at a loss.’

  ‘Yes, I should say, if anything, this rather multiplies our complications. I began to wonder if there was perhaps a sleeping partner – some third party – of whom and of whose interest we know nothing. From the outset, I had just the vaguest feeling that Mrs Burdock may have known more than she was letting on. Perry, the lawyer, can hardly have been ignorant of his client’s bankruptcy either, and if Baynes can show that Perry’s failure to disclose his knowledge of this was material to an attempted murder, he will not only face a criminal charge but in all likelihood be struck off too. But why has no one alluded to this bankruptcy? Surely Parlow must have known about it too? And who was the mysterious guarantor who averted the insolvency? Our suspicion that there has been a deliberate deception at the heart of this matter has been amply confirmed.’

  ‘What course of action do you intend?’

  ‘No more beating about the bush, Watson; I mean to have the whole thing out in the open. Tomorrow morning I shall wire to Baynes, then we shall go straight down to Rotherhithe, confront both men with this notice, and ask them straight out for an explanation. There is nothing else for it.’

  Alas, the wire was never sent. At nine o’clock that evening we were the ones to be summoned by Baynes. The page had brought us in an urgent message: ‘Come at once. The murderer returned this evening to the wharf and the old man is very critical. Have touched nothing, will await your arrival, Baynes.’

  ‘Dear me,’ said Holmes shaking his head, ‘well, we did try to warn the old fellow, but he refused to listen. Your coat and hat, Watson, and I’ll send Billy for a cab. I think I am beginning to understand it now. Before we go, though, there is one thing I must check, if you would be so good as hand me down the almanac,’ he said, to my complete puzzlement.

  ‘The almanac?’

  ‘Never underestimate the prime necessity for exercising the faculty of imagination, Watson.’

  ‘But what can the almanac tell you?’

  ‘It can tell me something about the influence of the moon on terrestrial affairs,’ answered Holmes with an impish smile.

  ‘You jest, surely?’

  ‘It is the literal truth, my dear fellow.’

  ‘You do not mean—’

  ‘No, Watson, not a case of lunacy. Let us say rather a combination of the influence of the moon and a little unpropitious timing. All shall be explained presently.’

  By the time we arrived at the Wharf, Baynes greeted us with a grim look. ‘It is too late, gentleman, Mr Burdock passed away about twenty minutes ago. He died in his partner’s arms. The doctor has just left, and Mr Parlow has remained with the body in the sitting room until it is removed to the mortuary.’

  ‘How did it happen?’ asked Holmes

  ‘Whoever it was must have come in during the day and concealed himself somewhere in the house, for the gates were shut at five, and the door of the house closed and locked from the inside. The two men were sitting at the kitchen table talking over a glass of grog and at one point Parlow stood up to go to the privy. Esther said that on his way to the privy, Parlow entered the scullery, asked for another two glasses of rum and water, and told her that she could go home when she had poured them. Parlow left the scullery and a few seconds later she heard the privy door slam behind him; it is some way down at the end of the passage. I questioned her very closely on this point: almost immediately after the door slammed she says she heard the sound of a pistol shot going off. She hesitated for a moment or two, then crept out into the hall. She heard a groaning sound and looked into the sitting room only to find Elias Burdock lying in a pool of blood on the floor, barely conscious. He had been hit in the back and was bleeding profusely. On her way to the sitting room, she noticed the main door lying ajar – the assailant, who must have waited until Burdock was alone then seized his chance, had left it open when he made his escape. Parlow had heard the pistol shot as well, and ordering his clothes, he rushed out of the privy and up the passage; for a moment he was torn between going to Burdock’s aid and giving chase to the murderer. Seeing that the girl was attending to her master, he dashed out onto the wharf only to see a man running down the slipway.’

  ‘But the slipway is at the rear of the house. How did he know which way the assailant had gone?’ asked Holmes.

  ‘As all the gates were locked, he assumed that the murderer would use the only means of escape possible – the river. He gave chase but found that the delay owing to his few seconds’ indecision meant that the man had a good start on him. On this occasion, he was able to give us a fair description of the man.’

  ‘Really?’ said Holmes rubbing his hands. ‘That is quite remarkable: I should like to hear it.’

  ‘Yes, he did very well. I have had it wired out to all stations. It was neither of the Donovans.’

  ‘I’m sure. Did Parlow take Burdock’s pistol with him?’

  ‘I made a point of asking him; in fact he did not.’

  ‘He goes in pursuit of an armed man who had just seriously, possibly fatally, wounded his friend and omits to take with him the only weapon there is.’

  ‘He explains that by the fact that he does not know how to use one.’

  ‘It was a remarkable show of bravery all the same. What happened next?’

  ‘Parlow pursued the man in the darkness but then the attacker ran down the slipway and managed to get away in a boat that was lying off in the stream. I recall you alluded to that possibility after the first incident. Do you wish me to call Parlow in then?’

  ‘No, I should rather speak to Esther first.’

  The girl was pale and upset, with red-ringed eyes. She was still shaking with fear and shock. She confirmed that Parlow had been ill most of the day. Three times since dinner he had had to visit the privy. It was on the third occasion that the incident happened just as she was clearing up for the night.

  ‘And you heard the privy door slam on each of these three occasions?’ Holmes asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How much time elapsed between Mr Parlow leaving the scullery and the door slamming?’

  ‘About seven or eight seconds, I think.’

  ‘And on each occasion the time lapse was the same?’

  ‘Yes, I think so.’

  ‘Think very carefully now, Esther: on the third occasion that Mr Parlow went down the passage, how much time elapsed between hearing the door slam and hearing the pistol go off?’

  ‘I heard the pistol go off almost immediately.’

  ‘And you are sure that it was the same door which slammed on all three occasions?’

  ‘Whatever do you mean, Sir?’ she said, shaking her head in puzzlement and gazing at Holmes as though he were mad. ‘Why should Mr Parlow slam any door other than the privy door if that’s where he was going?’

  ‘Esther, let us come in to the scullery and we shall conduct a little experiment: first, we shall leave the scullery door open; then, I am going to ask Doctor Watson to walk down the corridor and slam the privy door.’

  I did as requested and slammed the door as hard as I could, then returned to the scullery.

  ‘Well, Esther, was that the sound you heard?’

  ‘Yes, but it was much louder than that,’ said the girl looking a picture of confusion. ‘May I take my leave now, Sir; I am very tired and must go home to my mother,’ she said.

  ‘Providing Inspector Baynes has no further need for you, yes, you may go,’ replied Holmes. ‘I have one final question: after the murder of your master, did you have any conversation with Mr Parlow?’

  ‘Yes. He asked me about what I had heard and then told me that we would have to go to court. He reminded me that I must tell the truth no matter what anyone said. “Just tell the truth exactly as you have told it to me,” he said, “and no harm will come to you.” I don’t know whatever he meant. I should never tell any lies.’

  ‘What do you think?’ Baynes asked, when the girl left.

  ‘I think she is a most suggestib
le girl,’ Holmes replied.

  ‘Would you care to examine the rest of the premises?’ said the Inspector.

  ‘No, that will not be necessary, for there is nothing to be learnt from it. I rather think we should proceed directly to arrest the culprit.’

  ‘Arrest the culprit!’ asked Baynes. ‘You know who is responsible?’

  ‘Oh yes, I should have thought there was no great difficulty in working that out,’ he replied enigmatically to the astonished Inspector.

  ‘And you know where to find him?’ asked Baynes.

  ‘Certainly. However, there remains one minor detail I should like to clear up with Mr Parlow first, if you would lead the way.’

  Parlow was in sitting the room with the curtains drawn, the very image of grief. Burdock’s corpse, covered with a bloodied sheet, was laid out on the table awaiting the arrival of the undertakers. The foreman stood up as we entered.

  ‘I expected that you would want to ask me some questions, Mr Holmes,’ he said meekly.

  ‘No. In fact, I have only one question to ask you, Mr Parlow.’

  ‘Yes, Sir, what is that?’

  ‘What you have done with the pistol?’ said Holmes coolly.

  ‘The pistol!’ he cried, a spasm of surprise contorted his features.

  ‘Yes, I am referring to the Webley’s No. 2 with which you murdered Elias Burdock: the very same pistol which you used several days ago to fire the shot through the shutters of the empty sitting-room to create the impression of a vendetta against Mr Burdock. I suppose it is now lying in somewhere in the Thames mud?’

  ‘I’ve no idea what you are talkin’ about,’ the man replied.

  ‘Then let me recount the entire episode to you. This evening, you pretended to have a disorder of the lower abdomen in order to justify your repeated visits to the privy; on each occasion you deliberately slammed not the privy door, but the bedroom door, which is much closer to the scullery in order that Esther would hear it. Then you walked quietly to the privy at the end of the passage. The purpose of ruse this was to inculcate in her the expectation that she would hear the door slamming a short time after you had passed by the scullery. On the third occasion, Esther saw you leave the scullery, then there was the expected delay of a few seconds before she heard the door slam. This time, instead of walking quietly to the privy, you first stopped and silently opened the main door to make it look as though someone had escaped; and then you slammed the bedroom door, the one next to the sitting room. Almost immediately afterwards you shot Elias Burdock in the back; then you fled stealthily down the corridor to the privy, noiselessly opened the door, and went in. At Esther’s screaming, you came running up the corridor, then pretended to go in pursuit of the imaginary assailant; in fact this is what gave you the opportunity to dispose of the murder weapon in the most convenient place – at the bottom of the river.’

  ‘Is this how you achieve your results, Mr Holmes? By bluffin’ and browbeatin’ your suspects, and dazzlin’ them with your wild theories! Esther has already told the Inspector here that I was in the privy when the shot was fired; therefore, it was quite impossible for me to have killed Mr Burdock. She will swear to that in court.’

  ‘I can assure you that this is no bluff. Esther may have said that she heard a door slam, but I have just conducted an experiment in the presence of the Inspector which suggests very strongly that it was not the privy door which the girl heard, and I think I can show that she has made a very simple mistake. I am afraid it is no use, Parlow. It is low water on the river, and I had already established from the river police a few days ago that it is quite impossible to reach a boat in the channel from the slipway under these conditions, for there is a slough of impenetrable mud to cross. I have no need to examine the slipway to know that I will not find a single footprint in the mud there. Too bad you are a landlubber, Parlow, for had you picked a high tide on both occasions you might just have got away with it. Though I will grant your ruse last week was a rather clever one. It certainly took me in for a while.’

  ‘I’m afraid you have got it wrong, mister detective. What possible reason could I have for killing my employer? I stand to lose everything I have here.’

  ‘On the contrary,’ interrupted Holmes, ‘I believe I can show that you stand to gain quite a bit. Your motive for killing Mr Burdock is concerned with his bankruptcy last year, of that I have no doubt. I freely admit that I am not absolutely sure how the crash was averted, or what part you played in it, but it seems a most improbable coincidence that Mr Burdock suddenly trebled your salary at the time. It is simply a matter of searching the house until the papers are found.’

  A spasm of alarm crossed his features, but the bluster remained. ‘I don’t know what papers you’re talkin’ about.’

  ‘I am sure you will find exactly what you are looking for somewhere in the house,’ Holmes said to Baynes, ‘though you may have to take the place apart. You are looking for a set of deeds which relate to the wharf and probably this property as well. It is my belief that you will find that the deeds are in the name of Richard Parlow, not Elias Burdock, and they will provide you with the motive for the murder.’ Holmes gazed after Parlow with an odd expression as the two Surrey constables led him off.

  ‘A quite remarkable fellow in many ways,’ he remarked to us at length. ‘He is no ordinary murderer. He managed to delude two of the brightest men in the profession. I am afraid that I completely failed, at first, to grasp the significance of that very subtle opening gambit, whose purpose was to sow the wildest confusion and throw us all off the trail. Incidentally, this should also clear up the mystery of Mrs Burdock’s sudden visit to her solicitor. She may have known about this transaction. The Inspector’s wire exacerbated her fears that another attempt might be made on her husband’s life, and so she hastened there to ask the hypothetical question of the legal validity of this prior, but secret, agreement. She is a clever woman, as you said, and may possibly have suspected the course of events; however, her husband’s complicity in the deception to avoid bankruptcy probably prevented her from saying anything to you. If she had taken you into her confidence, it is possible that her husband would be alive today.’

  ‘The registered owner of the business had not changed,’ said Baynes in slight puzzlement. ‘I checked it myself; it remains in the name of Elias Burdock.’

  ‘That is correct,’ said Holmes, ‘but Burdock had been in financial trouble of some sort. I assume that he managed to hold off his creditors by the facade of bringing Parlow in as the new owner. In order to do that, a false set of papers would be needed making the business out to Parlow, duly signed and witnessed but – this is the important part – never lodged. Of course, the entire scheme was nothing more than a mere subterfuge aimed at mollifying the creditors at the time. It gave Burdock enough time to get out of whatever difficulty he was in and put the business back on its feet. Once the creditors were paid, the heat was off and the change of ownership postponed. Yet, no matter how counterfeit the intention, the papers, I believe, would have been signed by Burdock in the presence of witnesses, and therefore it could be argued that they had the full force of law. It occurred to me that Parlow might have kept the original copy. In the event of Burdock’s death, the widow would not have been able to show that Burdock signed the papers under duress from the purchaser. It only wanted the papers to be lodged, and the business and the house were Parlow’s. No doubt it was his intention to do this after the funeral.’

  ‘But surely,’ I said, ‘the agreement could not stand?’

  ‘Morally no; legally perhaps yes. It could only be declared void if there were duress or deliberate deception, or one of the signatories could be proven not to be of sound mind.’

  The following day, Holmes received a note from the Inspector to say that the deeds had been discovered in a false cavity of a chest in Parlow’s room at the wharf house. Burdock had indeed at the time of his difficulty signed a paper transferring the business and premises to Parlow for a sum of two-
thousand pounds. It seemed incontrovertible that the foreman had coldly plotted his master’s death whilst engaged in the sham of being the old man’s friend and partner.

  ‘Rank ingratitude,’ I muttered on reading the Inspector’s note.

  ‘Indeed, Watson, “A man’s worst enemies are those of his own house.” The moral of this tale is the strength of appearances and the suggestibility of human nature. It is certain that Parlow possessed this power of suggestion in abundance. Esther is one of the most suggestible females I have ever met; she treated her presumptions as facts when they were not. Her unshakeable belief in Parlow’s innocence was founded on appearances. The three things that stuck in Esther’s mind were: the two men sitting over a glass of grog together like a couple of old shipmates; the slamming of the bedroom door followed immediately by the gunshot; and the sight of her master’s life ebbing away as he was held in Parlow’s arms. She is a simple girl, yet no counsel in the world would have shaken her had the case depended upon her evidence. Parlow knew this. Hence my question as to whether she and Parlow had discussed the matter – “Just tell the truth exactly as you have told it to me.” What he really meant, of course, was “tell the police what you thought you saw and heard, and I shall have nothing to worry about.” Again and again throughout the case, I am sure that it was Parlow who made subtle insinuations: the idea of supplying false papers to the creditors; he will have spread the rumour in the Dog and Duck about the Donovans’ sworn revenge, too; no doubt he suggested to Burdock that he go home on the day of the first shooting, and managed, by the same means, to get the girl to propose that she go out for oysters.’