by Ashton, Hugh
“This is quite incredible, Holmes! If this came to pass, the country would be engulfed in flames!”
“I question your melodramatic metaphor, but I fear that you are substantially correct there.”
“What will you do with this?”
“It is a matter for Mycroft, is it not? This document should be taken to him in Whitehall as soon as is possible.”
“Together with the letter that he mentioned and which we are still seeking?”
“Naturally. Of course, this document is of the utmost importance, but the letter likewise is of significance. We must find all relevant documents.”
We redoubled our search of the boxes Holmes had previously indicated, but to no avail.
“I had deduced that these boxes we have just searched are the last to have been opened, as is evident by the disturbance of the dust and the state of the locks. However, it is just within the limits of possibility that I may have missed some clue as to the state of the other boxes. Come, let us search them as well.”
The other boxes soon yielded to Holmes' skill with the picklocks, and we ransacked their contents, but our efforts bore no fruit.
“Surely we should continue to search these rooms, nonetheless?” I suggested. “These boxes are, after all, only one of the places in which we might discover the letter.”
“We should indeed search the whole of the rooms. Who knows what other valuable clues we may come across?”
A thorough search of the rooms yielded a number of interesting objects, including a revolver in the room previously occupied by Mahoney, which we discovered between the bed and the wall. This weapon, as Holmes remarked to me with a smile, was not the kind of property that one would expect to find in a clergyman's bedroom.
“However, if, as you say,” I observed to Holmes, “he has quit Ledbury Hall to meet his confederates, who may be of a somewhat hasty and violent temperament, it would seem strange that he has left this behind him.”
“His leaving it here may not be entirely intentional. Recall that he left the house in a hurry, fearing to be discovered. He would almost certainly have seized those objects that were closest to hand, and which would have provided him with the most safety. Note, though, that the original letter has yet to make its appearance.”
We also discovered a pair of spectacles, in a case which bore the name of a optician's shop in Rome. On examining these, holding them to his own eyes and peering through them, Holmes declared them to be reading glasses. “It is clear that he required these in order to do any paperwork, judging by the lenses.”
“In which case, he may well feel the need to visit an optician in order to procure a replacement,” I suggested. “In that event, it should be possible for us to keep watch on all such shops, and have him apprehended when he makes an appearance.”
Holmes shook his head. “I fear that would be a somewhat impractical course of action. There are literally hundreds of such shops in London alone, and we have no information that he will be in the metropolis. We should not overlook the possibility, though, that he may have another pair of spectacles with him. However,” noticing my somewhat downcast expression and clapping me on the shoulder, “this is certainly the kind of thinking that may well bring about results. Who knows what little mistake he may make in the future that will lead to his apprehension? It is my experience,” added Holmes, “that in the overwhelming majority of cases, criminals believe themselves to be of superior intelligence and possess greater foresight than the average. Happily for society, but unhappily for them, they are almost invariably mistaken in these beliefs.”
“That may well be,” I answered him. “But what is our next step?”
“In the morning, we must make one more search for the missing letter, and any additional clues that he may have left behind. This time, we should not restrict ourselves to these rooms, but I fear it will be fruitless. Following this, we should return to London, inform Hopkins of the progress of the case, and request him to send his myrmidons forth throughout the metropolis in the search for Mahoney. Mycroft must then be informed of the developments here, and I will relinquish the case to the official force with the greatest pleasure. I had no wish to be involved originally, and it is solely on account of Mycroft that I am at all connected with the case.”
Accordingly, we made ourselves as comfortable as possible, Holmes on the bed that had been used by Tosca, and I on that which had been occupied by Mahoney. Early in the morning, we arose and presented ourselves to a somewhat astonished Lord Ledbury. To my surprise, Holmes did not mention the fact that we had discovered the document that I had discovered, but merely requested permission to search the Hall for the missing letter, which was granted. As Holmes had foretold, we were unable to locate the missing letter, and the search failed to reveal anything that might shed light on the present whereabouts of Mahoney. Accordingly, we returned to London, after Holmes had instructed Ledbury to say as little as possible about the recent events, and to inform his servants to do the same.
“Do you wish me to visit Mycroft with you?” I asked Holmes as we reached King's Cross station.
“At this juncture, I think it is best if I alone beard the lion in his den,” Holmes replied. “Your offer of support is greatly appreciated, I assure you, but I would not wish to expose you to Mycroft's temper, which is considerable on such occasions, I can assure you from past experience.” He managed a thin smile. “If you will have the goodness to make your way to Baker-street and instruct Mrs. Hudson to prepare a nourishing luncheon, you will have done your duty and more.”
I did as he requested, and waited his return with some interest. A little after midday, Sherlock Holmes returned, and flung his hat into a corner.
“I know you mean well, but do not address me, I beg you, Watson, until I speak to you again,” he said, shortly. “I am in the worst of tempers, and I have no wish to bite a hand which wishes me only well, as I know do you.”
So saying, he flung himself into his armchair, and filled his clay pipe with the cheap shag tobacco that he affected, lighting it and smoking it furiously until it was exhausted, before flinging it into the fireplace where it shattered.
“I am now in somewhat of a state to entertain conversation, he told me. And I am, by the way, extremely hungry. I trust that your taste in our lunch matches mine.”
“I bespoke mutton chops preceded by a mulligatawny soup,” I told him. “Mrs. Hudson told me that she had some excellent mutton delivered this morning.”
“Excellent. If you will be kind enough to ring for her, I will tell you of my interview with brother Mycroft while we eat.”
Mrs. Hudson brought the food in answer to my ringing the bell, and as he had promised, Sherlock Holmes proceeded to acquaint me with the morning's events.
“As I had suspected would be the case, Mycroft was not in the best of moods when I told him that we had been unable to find the letter. I passed him the document that you discovered, and this went some way to improving his temper. He was totally unaware that such a document had even been considered, let alone the fact that it actually existed, and it gave him pause for thought, I can tell you. By the by, I gave you full credit for its discovery, and the recognition that it was of significance. Accordingly, Mycroft requested me to pass on his appreciation and his thanks to you.”
“That is most gratifying to hear.”
“However, the reminder of the fact that we failed to locate Mahoney after allowing him to leave Ledbury Hall put him in such a passion as I have never before seen. Even when we were children, he never treated me in this way before. I find it intolerable to be in such a position. He called Hopkins into the room. I will admit that Hopkins is one of the more competent and efficient members of the Force, but even so, he is not remotely in the same class as myself as regards the science of detection and the study of the criminal mind. Mycroft then proceeded to address me in terms that one would not use to a servant, in front of this mere policeman. It was an utter humiliation, Watson, and i
t will be a long time before I can consider forgiving Mycroft for his actions in this regard.”
“And what now?”
“I washed my hands of the whole affair, as gracefully as I could manage without, I trust, seeming to appear overly petty in front of Hopkins. Hopkins is, as I say, one of our more intelligent police officers, and it may well be that I will find myself working with him at some time in the future. I trust that Mycroft's words have not poisoned the whole Metropolitan Police force against me. It will, I repeat, be some considerable time before I am able to forgive Mycroft his words and his attitude towards me, though. In any case, I have put this whole Tosca business behind me. The official word, which will be backed by Hopkins in his capacity as a representative of the police, is that Tosca suffered a stroke, and no suspicious circumstances pertain to his decease.
“I am, however, still extremely vexed regarding the whole business. In the meantime, I feel my soul requires some solace, which is not to be found here. Would you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to the concert hall this afternoon, where we may escape the turmoil of the city and lose ourselves in the immortal strains of the masters of the past?”
I readily assented, as it was clear to my eyes that Holmes was under some severe emotional strain, as was occasionally the case, and required companionship, if not conversation. I feared that he might easily revert to some of his previous injurious habits were he to be left alone, and it was therefore with a sense of relief that I heard him offer this suggestion as to how he might spend his time. During the entire concert, he sat with his eyes closed, but it was clear from the movements of his hand in time with the music that he was not asleep. However, much of his tension appeared to have left him when we left the hall, and he even made one or two comments of a humorous nature.
On our journey home, we walked through the Park, with Holmes maintaining his amiable mood, and returned to Baker-street, where Mrs. Hudson handed an envelope to Holmes as we started to ascend the steps to the sitting-room. This arrived about an hour ago, she informed him.
“Ha!” Holmes exclaimed after we had entered the room and he had opened the envelope. “This is a pleasant surprise, I must confess!”
His words caused me to start, occupied as I was with pouring two glasses of brandy and water. “What is this?”
“It is from brother Mycroft. He has actually apologised to me for his words earlier today. This is a remarkable development. To anyone who knows my brother, this is almost as remarkable as if he were to suddenly sprout wings and fly. In all the years of my life, I think I have known him to offer an apology only once, and that was to my mother, under threat of severe punishment by my father. And he adds that he has also sent a message to Hopkins, explaining that his words to me were spoken in the heat of the moment, and are not to be regarded seriously. Well, well.” He accepted the drink that I proffered, and regarded the paper once more. “He says that he now recognises that there was little that I could do to recover the letter or to detain Mahoney. He thanks me and you for locating the missive from the Pope, and that he now regards me as being free to return to Atherstoke and pursue my investigations along the lines that he has recommended to me. How generous of him, to be sure.”
“Then there is peace between the Holmes brothers?” I asked.
Holmes smiled thinly. “I think you may regard that as being the case. It seems that I can now wash my hands of the whole of this wretched affair, and return with a clear conscience to my previous business.”
With those words, he believed that he had closed the book on this case. Although he made discreet enquiries at intervals to both his brother and to Hopkins regarding the progress of the case, the answer was always in the negative. It appeared that Mahoney and the letter had disappeared from the face of the earth, not to be seen again. Indeed, I had almost forgotten about the events until the advent of John Alderton as a client, and the events described below.
Part II – The Willows, Windsor
Mr. James Alderton – Baker-street, London
It was some three or four months after this that the following incidents took place. At that time it was still necessary, for reasons connected with my practice, for me to live away from the lodgings in Baker-street which I had at times shared with Holmes. However, our friendship continued at the same warm level that it had always enjoyed, and my first port of call, accordingly, on my return to the metropolis was at the well-known door of 221B Baker-street, and the seventeen steps leading to the rooms that were so familiar to me.
On being admitted to the room, I beheld Holmes studying a sheet of paper which he held in one hand. With the other, he waved me nonchalantly towards my accustomed armchair before passing the paper over to me with a chuckle.
“What do you make of this?” he asked me.
I took the proffered paper, and read aloud. “ ‘Dear Mr Holmes, I have been informed that you extend your help to those faced with problems of an unusual nature. I therefore propose to call on you at half past three tomorrow afternoon in order to explain to you such a problem concerning our domestic servants, which I feel will be of interest to you. Yours sincerely, James Alderton.’ ”
“So now I am to advise the general public on the hiring and dismissal of kitchen maids and cooks, it would appear,” Holmes laughed.
“It would certainly seem to be something in this line.” I pulled out my watch. “It is now twenty-five minutes after the hour. Your client will be with you in five minutes. Perhaps I should go?”
“No, no. As always, you are welcome to share whatever points of interest that this case may bring us, though I fear such will be sadly lacking here. I trust, by the way, that your trip to Bedfordshire was satisfactory?”
“Indeed it was,” I assured him, and was about to expound further when I was interrupted by the voice of Mrs Hudson announcing the arrival of James Alderton. When our visitor was admitted to the room, his eyes fell on me, but quickly passed to Sherlock Holmes, to whom he presented a card.
“Who is this?” he asked in an abrupt tone. “I trust that my private affairs about which I consult you may be regarded as confidential?”
“This is my colleague, friend, and occasional biographer, Dr Watson,” Holmes introduced me. “Anything you say before me may also be safely said before him.”
“In that case, I am content to take your word for it.”
“But please, Mr Alderton, or perhaps I should address you as Major Alderton, do sit down and take this chair near the fire. I fear that our English climate must come as an unpleasant surprise to you after the heat of Burma.”
Our visitor displayed some visible surprise at Holmes’ words. “How in the world did you come to know my Army rank, and how did you guess that I have been in Burma?”
“There was no guessing involved, sir. Immediately you entered the room, it was obvious to me that you had recently returned from the tropics. It was also clear that you have been a military man, and one used to command at a relatively senior level. Your age would preclude you from attaining a rank higher than that of Major, and an additional clue was provided in your letter to me where you started to put your former rank in brackets following your name, but thought better of it and crossed it out, though not sufficiently to prevent my deducing that this was indeed the level you had reached in your former career. From further examination, I would guess that you have been invalided out of the Army, though this is more Watson’s department than my own.”
“Yes, yes, indeed you are correct,” answered our visitor. “I have recently retired from the army, as you say, on grounds of ill-health. I contracted malaria while serving in Rangoon, and the disease was of sufficient severity as to necessitate the resigning of my commission. But I am completely mystified as to how you had established that it was in Burma that I served, and not in some other part of the Empire?”
Holmes chuckled. “As to that, my dear sir, it is simplicity itself. You bear on your watch chain a small charm, which I recognise as being a likeness of
the Buddha, whose teachings are followed in that part of the world. The workmanship is of a style familiar to me, that of the artisans of Southeast Asia, of Siam and that area. Since, to the best of my knowledge, the British Army does not maintain an establishment in Siam, I am forced to conclude that the trinket in question was purchased, or at least had its origin in Burma.”
“Well, you make it seem remarkably simple,” laughed our guest.
“Just so,” commented Holmes, with a touch of asperity. “You mentioned in your letter that you had problems regarding your servants. I think I should tell you that domestic problems are not my primary field of interest.”
“Even so, I think that you will find this to be a problem that merits some attention. Let me tell you of my story, and you may then decide for yourself whether it is a subject that warrants the expertise of Mr Sherlock Holmes.”
“Well, well,” Holmes smiled. “You certainly make it sound intriguing.” Having requested and received permission to smoke, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes half closed, and his fingertips steepled together in that familiar pose that betokened his extreme attention to the matter at hand.
“You are absolutely correct in your description of my circumstances,” began Alderton. “I served in the 32nd Regiment of Foot, rising to the rank of major, with my last posting in Burma. While I was in Burma, I became acquainted with, and fell in love with the daughter of one of my senior officers, and we were married with her father’s wholehearted consent. He foresaw a bright future for me in the Army, and though I will not say that he was responsible for advancing my career, at any rate he did little to hinder it. As I say, I rose in my command, maybe a little faster than others who were contemporary with me, and my marriage was—indeed, still is—as happy as one can imagine. But as you no doubt know, from your experience of human nature, even the best of lives on a happy course may strike the rock of misfortune at times. And so it was with me.