by Ashton, Hugh
“He is in his bedroom, to the best of my knowledge. Would you like me to have him called here?”
“Not at present, thank you. Have you spoken to him since his return from London?”
“I have not. I was merely informed that he had returned, and that he had retired to his bedroom.”
“Very good. Could you tell me about the events of two nights ago? That is, the night of the Cardinal’s death.”
Lord Ledbury seemed happy to do so, and his account corroborated that which had previously been given by Mahoney. He and his family had been driven to London for a function held in the early evening, and he had returned alone at about ten o’clock. His wife and daughters had remained in London, and had spent that night at the family’s town house, where they were still.
“It is a fair drive from London, is it not?”
“Somewhere in the region of two hours or a little more,” his Lordship said, adding that on his return, the butler had immediately told him that he was to speak to Monsignor Mahoney, who in turn told him of the untimely death of the Cardinal.
“You entered the room and viewed the scene yourself?” Holmes asked him.
“Indeed I did, and I sincerely wish that I had not. It is a scene that will haunt me to my dying day. There, at the head of my dining-table, in my family’s dining-room, sat a corpse, shrouded in blood, a dagger protruding from its breast. That alone would be horrible enough, Mr. Holmes, but when you add to this the fact that the man was a prince of the Church, and my guest to boot, you may imagine my feelings.”
“You have my sincere sympathy,” said Holmes. “Certainly it is a circumstance that no man could wish to experience.”
“Mahoney informed me that he had telegraphed your brother, and that he had spoken through the telephone to him. I had the instrument installed for my government work some years back, and though there are times that I regret its existence, I was grateful for its existence on this occasion.”
“And you decided to leave the room in its original state, as Mahoney discovered it?”
“Mahoney told me that your brother had so ordered it, as you would be investigating the matter.”
“He was certainly premature in that assumption,” said Holmes. “It was only a matter of a few hours ago that I first heard of the incident from him.”
“It went against all my principles as a man and a Christian, to leave the Cardinal there in that state, but given the importance and significance of his mission, and the orders from your brother, I could do no less.”
“You are aware of the true reasons for the Cardinal’s visit to this country? My brother has informed me, by the way, and Watson here is also aware of them, so you may speak freely.”
“Thank you. Yes, I am aware.”
“And your feelings on the matter, if I may pry?”
The peer sighed. “If you must, you must, I suppose. As you are probably aware, I am a Roman Catholic, as were my fathers and my ancestors before me. It has never occurred to me to change my religion and I may say, with all due modesty, that I am one of the foremost laymen of the Catholic Church in this country. However, I was aware of the Cardinal’s mission to this country, and I must tell you that this was not to my liking.” Holmes’ eyebrows lifted in an expression of surprise, and the nobleman continued. “You may well consider it strange of me to say this, but I am above all an Englishman, and I believe that your brother and I would find ourselves in complete agreement regarding the probable state of this country were the highly placed person in question to declare his allegiance to Rome. For a member of the Government, such as myself, to profess his faith is enough to set the hounds of the popular press baying at his heels. For such a one as the man of who we speak to do so would plunge the nation into chaos. Brother would find himself set against brother, friend against friend. The situation would be intolerable.”
“And yet you agreed to act as host to His Eminence during his stay here?”
The peer sighed. “It was expected of me by the British government, in the form of your brother. He made the case to me most ably that it was better I than some hot-headed fanatic who would encourage Tosca in what was regarded by many as an act of folly. In addition, I have received an order of chivalry from the Vatican, and my hospitality would also be expected from that quarter.”
“I understand your position. I will examine the dining-room presently, but before I do so, I must ask you two further questions. Firstly, do you have any suspicions as to who might have been responsible for the death of Cardinal Tosca?”
“Why, it can be none other than Mahoney, can it? Tosca was not the most forgiving of men when it came to others’ faults, and I have heard him abusing Mahoney in such a fashion that had similar words passed between gentlemen, some sort of challenge might well have ensued.”
“Do you seriously believe Mahoney to be capable of such an atrocious act?”
“I tell you, Mr. Holmes, that I have seen his face after such admonishments, and it was the face of one who hates.”
“Hates enough to kill?” Holmes asked, half to himself. “I wonder.”
“And your second question?”
You have been informed of the letter that has vanished?” The other nodded. “Do you have any idea where we might commence a search for it?”
Lord Ledbury’s face broke out in a broad smile. “I can do better than that,” he informed Holmes. “I can present you with the letter itself. Come with me.”
He led the way along a passageway to a room that evidently served as his study and library. Books lined the walls, and on examination it was clear that they were not merely ornaments, as in many great houses, but were well-thumbed works of reference on the subjects of law and international relations. One shelf was devoted to the works of modern philosophers and theologians, which also appeared to have been consulted regularly.
“I confess that I instructed my butler to abstract this document, which I considered to be of an inflammatory, not to say explosive, nature, while the Cardinal and Mahoney were eating their meal, and to give it to me at the earliest possible opportunity. On the night that His Eminence met his end, Alvarez went up to the room that His Eminence was using as his study, and presented the paper to me the next night.”
“You had requested him to give you the paper as soon as possible. Why the delay?”
“It proved impossible to effect the delivery any earlier. Mahoney, as you may have been told, appeared to be in a state of shock at the Cardinal’s death, which I would now, after further consideration, put down to the effects of remorse. He required attention, and since Alvarez was the only servant who was aware of the situation, it was natural that he should be the one who attended Mahoney. Your brother arrived early the next day, and either I was obliged to be with him, or Alvarez was required to attend him for the duration of his visit. In any event, it was not until the evening of that day that I was able to secure the document.”
“You have read it, of course?”
The peer turned to Holmes, a look of shocked surprise upon his face. “Indeed I have not, Mr. Holmes! It is not the place of a gentleman to read another’s correspondence, especially one from such a personage as this.”
“I fully appreciate your scruples in this matter,” Holmes told him, “and I had no intention of accusing you. I merely felt that since you had some sort of official duties in regard to this affair, you might perchance have had occasion to view the document. My apologies if my words offended you.”
“I take your meaning in regard to this matter. My apologies for the misunderstanding.”
“In any event, you have done well to secure the letter in this way. It is good that it is no longer in what might be regarded by some as a dangerous location.”
Holmes’ words appeared to restore the peer’s amour-propre. “Thank you. I felt it best that it be retained in a safe place. And here it is!” He turned with a certain air of triumph, and revealed a safe fitted into the wall, which had been concealed behind a pictur
e. He inserted a key attached to his watch-chain, and opened the door. “Here you are, Mr. Holmes, perfectly safe—.“
He stopped, and turned to face us, his face ashen. “It has vanished!” he informed us.
“Perhaps it is under some other papers in the safe?” I suggested.
He turned back and frantically explored the contents of the safe. “No, it is not in the safe at all! I placed it on the top of the pile of papers in the safe. I have a distinct memory of doing so, and of locking the safe afterwards. As you saw for yourselves just now, it was necessary for me to unlock the safe. It is not of the type that locks itself.”
“May I examine the safe for myself?” asked Holmes.
“You are welcome to do so, but I can assure you that the letter is not there.”
Holmes stooped to the lock of the safe, and examined it through his lens in silence for a few minutes. “You have the only key, of course?” he asked Lord Ledbury.
“Yes. That is to say, there are two keys; the one you saw me use just now, which is always attached to my watch-chain, and a duplicate which is kept for safety in Whitehall. As you are aware, I am no longer a member of the Cabinet, but I retain an office there for my remaining official duties.”
“And that other key is in your office at this minute?”
“I have no reason to believe otherwise. We can verify its existence by means of the telephone if you so desire.” He shrugged, as if to indicate the futility of the operation.
“I do so desire,” Holmes said to him. “It would be remiss of us not to do so.”
“Very good.” Ledbury touched a button, and in answer to the bell’s summons, the butler entered, and was given instructions to connect the house with the Whitehall office. He departed on his errand, and Holmes turned to the nobleman.
“I notice your use of electricity for the bells in this house,” he remarked.
“Ah, yes, a little crochet of mine. I feel that electricity, and matters electrical, will some day play a leading role in our everyday lives. For example, I am certain that the present unhealthy flames we presently use for illumination, be they of gas or tallow, will soon be replaced by electricity. See here,” and he moved to a lever in the wall and pulled it. Instantly the room was flooded with a fierce light, and a loud hissing came from above our heads. Startled, I looked upwards, but was nearly blinded by the bright object suspended from the ceiling.
“A lamp of my own design,” explained Ledbury. “I have hopes of improving it through my efforts. I have a small laboratory where I conduct experiments in order to perfect our lighting. Not all my experiments are successful, though...” He broke off as Alvarez entered and informed him that the connection to London had now been established. “This way, gentlemen,” he instructed us as he strode out.
The telephone was housed in a small cabinet off the hallway, and Ledbury entered it, leaving the door open. “Kingsley?” he barked into the mouthpiece. This was the first occasion on which I had seen a telephone in use, and I was fascinated to observe the process.
“Have the goodness to look in the second drawer on the left side, at the back,” I heard Ledbury saying, followed in one or two minutes by “Then look again. It is never kept anywhere else.” He turned to Holmes and myself with a worried expression. “The fool cannot locate it in its usual place.” He withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped his brow before holding the instrument to his ear once again, and listening with a face which betrayed extreme anxiety as the conversation progressed. “Then search every drawer—everywhere—and communicate with me as soon as you have located it,” he snapped into the telephone before breaking the connection.
“I apologise,” he said to us. “This should have been a simple matter, but it appears the key is not where I believed it to be. I am sure that Kingsley will make a competent search of the office, but in the meantime...”
“In the meantime, we could possibly assume that the thief has used the missing key to abstract the letter at some point between your placing it in the safe and now.”
“Impossible!” burst out the nobleman.
“It is not in the least impossible,” Holmes corrected him. “Improbable, maybe, but as Watson here will inform you, one of my favourite dicta is that whenever you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. There are, of course, other possibilities that occur to me,” said Holmes vaguely. “But let us deal with those in due course. What, may I ask, would be your reaction to the suggestion that Alvarez might be responsible for the death of the Cardinal?”
“Totally out of the question,” retorted Ledbury. “He may not have been in my employ for long, but I have never found him to be anything other than the perfect butler. Maybe some of his habits are not exactly those which we might expect of an English butler, but that cannot be laid at his door, after all, and there is no reason for me to complain in these cases. But there is one very good reason why I can tell you that it is most unlikely.”
“That being?”
“The fact that Alvarez, before he came to me, had at some time in the past been part of the household of the Cardinal in Spain.”
“Given the reputation of the Cardinal’s temper, and his attitude to those serving him, that might seem like a possible motive, rather than an exculpation,” Holmes objected.
“In this case, you would not think so, if you had seen them together. I had occasion to mark the deference with which he served His Eminence, and the change which came over Tosca’s face when the other was near him. Naturally, I realise that this is not guarantee of innocence, and I realise how inconclusive it may sound, but that is my opinion.”
“Is Mahoney aware of this previous relationship?”
“I fail to see how he could be ignorant of it.”
“And yet he never mentioned it to us. Strange, strange.” He turned to face Ledbury “It is time that we examined the scene of the murder.”
“Very well,” Ledbury answered, though he was obviously in considerable doubt regarding the recent events concerned with the loss of the paper. He led the way through the Hall to a door which he attempted to open without success.
“By the by,” asked Holmes, as we passed along the passageway, “maybe you can show us the general location of the offices of the house?”
“The kitchen is that way through the green baize door,” Lord Ledbury told us, pointing, “with the scullery beside it, and the laundry adjoining that.”
“And the butler’s pantry is there too, I take it?” asked Holmes.
“As it happens, it is not. I am not sure of the reason for this, but the butler’s pantry is in the general area of the room we are approaching, rather than in a more convenient and usual location by the kitchen.”
“And these are the main stairs, I take it? It would seem that it is possible for an observer on the landing to see someone exiting the kitchen area through the baize door. Please excuse me.” Holmes abruptly left us, and bounded up the stairs to the landing, from where he looked down at us, craning his neck to and fro. “Thank you,” he said on re-joining us. “I merely wished to verify something that had been told to us earlier.”
“Very good,” Lord Ledbury replied, who was obviously restraining his curiosity with regard to Holmes’ actions. “Here we are at the door of the family dining-room, which I made available to His Eminence. This door at least is locked as it should be,” he told us, extracting a key from his pocket and turning it in the lock. “I trust you are prepared, gentlemen.”
Cardinal Pietro Tosca – Ledbury Hall
We stepped into the room, and I, for one, feared the worst. The sweet scent of the recently dead filled the room, but there was mercifully no smell of decay.
“What is this?” cried Holmes. “We were told that the body had not been moved.” He pointed to the dining table, on which lay the body of a large and powerfully built man, dressed in a scarlet cassock. The eyes of the corpse appeared to be bulging under their closed lids, as if in te
rror, and a look of fear suffused the face. One of the chairs, at the head of the table, had been pulled back a little, and the seat was lightly marked by bloodstains. A coffee service stood on a small side-table.
Ledbury's face turned pale, and he crossed himself. “I have no conception,” he cried. “I had given strict orders for this room to be sealed, and for no-one to enter. When I left this room last and locked the door, the Cardinal's body was sitting in that chair there.” He pointed to the bloodstained chair with a hand that trembled.
“I must ask once more, how many keys exist to this room?”
“This one here in my hand, and perhaps two or three others. In theory, it would be easy for anyone to take the key from the butler's pantry or the housekeeper's room, and to admit themselves. But the risk of being observed by any passer-by would have prevented that, I would have thought.”
Holmes had been examining the carpet under the windows. “I fancy that our intruder did not use the door to enter and leave the room. I spy traces of soil here, and the faint indentations of footprints in the carpet. This type of casement window is much easier to open by a skilled practitioner than many householders care to believe. For example, it takes me less than ten seconds to effect an entry through a window such as this.” He bent to examine the window frame. “Ah, as I suspected. The marks of a thin-bladed knife, such as I myself would use, should I ever have occasion to enter a room in this way. You will note that the catch of this window is not closed, while those of all the others have been secured. It is not possible to fasten such a catch from the outside.”
“But who would do such a thing? It is hardly desecration of a body. Indeed, it appears to be an attempt to secure some measure of dignity. I assure you, Holmes, that the sight of His Eminence sitting dead, with his eyes staring into the void, was a disturbing sight, to say the least of it.”
“I agree with you that this seems to have restored a little decorum to the situation,” remarked Holmes. “I notice also that the eyes have been closed. The situation is, however, more than a little extraordinary. You mentioned did you not, that when you locked the room, nothing had been moved from the position in which Monsignor Mahoney discovered it?”