by Ashton, Hugh
Holmes considered this statement. “I have to ask you, Mrs. Alderton, whether you or your husband might have any enemies who could have instigated this harassment of your household?”
“We have recently returned from Burma, and I feel it is most unlikely that James could have acquired any enemies in such a short space of time. As for myself, I was born in India, and this is the first time that I have been in England.” She smiled. “As I mentioned earlier, I am still unused to the climate, which I find uncomfortably cold and very much not to my taste.”
“But did your husband have no enemies in Burma?”
“Other than some natives whom he was forced to bring to justice, and who felt that they had been treated unfairly by him, I do not think so. Of course, there were professional rivals in the Mess. The Army can be a highly competitive society—“
“I know well what you mean there,” I broke in. “I witnessed this for myself in my time in India.”
“Then you are aware of the rivalry. However, James has now retired from the service, and he is no longer in a position where he could be considered a threat to a brother officer’s career.”
“Is it possible that he could have offended a contemporary, or perhaps some other, who continues to bear him a grudge?” asked Holmes.
“You would have to ask him that yourself,” answered Mrs. Alderton. “I am not aware of any such incident or grudge.”
“And you are similarly unaware of any such enmity that may have sprung up since his return to England?”
“None whatsoever exists, as far as I am aware. James is working at Hollister & Co., as their manager in charge of trade with Burma. His knowledge of the country and of the language gained him that position, and I have it on the authority of my father that he was not given the post at another’s expense.”
“Did your father help your husband gain his current position?”
“He did. He is on the board of directors, and when James found himself unable to continue his career in the army, my father contacted the firm, and ensured that James and I would have an income.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Alderton. This has all been most helpful. Now if you could have me led to the source of the smell that has been disturbing you?”
Mrs. Alderton pulled on the bell-rope. “Of course. You will forgive me if I do not accompany you, I trust?”
“Naturally I do not expect you to disturb yourself.”
The maid entered, summoned by the bell, and Mrs. Alderton ordered her to take us to the area where the smell was strongest. As she led us down the passageway, my nostrils were assailed by a foul odour. At first, this was almost unnoticeable, but as we neared the back of the house, the smell became stronger, until I found myself gagging on the stench, and was forced almost double with the violence of my coughing. Holmes, too, though seemingly less affected than I by the miasma, nevertheless turned to me with a look of disgust on his face.
“And this has been going on for how long?” asked Holmes.
“Since the master and mistress moved in, sir. We noticed it a few days after.”
“This is the worst place? Where the smell is strongest?” Holmes indicated the area where we were standing, which was a passageway leading to a small conservatory.
“Yes, sir, just here and the conservatory. It doesn’t seem too bad in the kitchen, or the room over the kitchen, which is where I sleep. If it was like this, I have to tell you, sir, that I would have given in my notice long since.”
“And who could blame you for doing so, if it were as bad as this? Dear me, this really is terrible. And the workmen found nothing?”
“No, sir. The men from the sanitary came round and they took up the floor, where the drains run under. They thought perhaps one of the pipes might have cracked or something, but it wasn’t anything like that.” By now we had entered the conservatory, and the smell, if anything, was worse.
“I see. If I may?” Sherlock Holmes stooped, and examined the floor. “This is where they dug, then?”
“No, sir. Not there. The drains are along the passageway, not in here.”
“But the drains run under here?”
“I couldn’t rightly tell you, sir. The men from the sanitary didn’t seem to think so, anyway. If you don’t mind, I would sooner we left this place. The smell is something awful for me.”
“By all means,” I agreed hastily. “Come, Holmes, there is little to see here.”
“That may be the case at present,” he answered me. “Very well, let us be away. Lucy, please lead us back to your mistress.”
When we had returned to the drawing-room, Holmes addressed Mrs. Alderton once more. “I agree with you that it is a most iniquitous smell, and I am sorry that the sanitary workers could not locate the cause.”
“I am only thankful that it appears to be confined to a part of the house which we have little intention of using, and also for the fact that it does not appear to inconvenience Mrs. Wiles. We are lucky to have her, apparently. The standard of cooks in this country, according to those of our neighbours with whom I have spoken, is of an almost uniformly low standard.”
“There is much truth in that,” I agreed heartily.
“In any event,” said Holmes, “with your permission, I would like to question Mrs. Wiles. She may be able to tell us of some points of interest concerning the house, since she has worked here in the past.”
“Of course you may. James should be home in about twenty minutes. Will that provide you with enough time for your conversation?”
“Admirably,” answered Holmes. “No, no, do not rise. I am certain I can find my own way to the kitchen. Watson, come with me, if you would.”
Mrs. Wiles – Windsor
I followed Holmes as he led the way unerringly to the kitchen of the house, where the cook was busy preparing the dinner. She appeared as a typical example of the profession, amply proportioned, wearing a clean starched white apron.
“Yes?” she said, somewhat crossly. “What can I do for you two gentlemen?”
“My name is Sherlock Holmes, and I would like to speak with you when you have finished preparing the pastry for what promises to be, from the look of it, one of the most delicious apple pies I have ever seen in my life.”
“Ha! You’re a right charmer, you are, aren’t you, sir? You can talk to me while I’m rolling out the pastry. I can still manage to do more than one thing at once, you know.”
“Excellent. You worked in this house before Mr. And Mrs. Alderton came to live here, I believe?”
“That’s right. I did.”
“For Mr. Campion?”
“Who’s that, sir? Never heard of him.”
“The previous tenant of this house.”
“He wasn’t called Campion, sir, I can tell you that. His name was Garnet. I think he was Thomas Garnet, if I remember the name on the envelopes addressed to him. Yes, Thomas Garnet was his name.” She took the pastry from the bowl and started to roll it out on the marble slab.
“Was it indeed? And he was tall, and rather pale-skinned, with ginger hair.”
“Oh no, sir, I think you’ve got the wrong party completely there, sir. Mr. Garnet was a little man, not so tall as me, and he had brown skin from living in foreign parts, I heard. And his hair was nearly white, but you could tell that it had been dark at one time.”
“Well, I do seem to be knocking at the wrong door, then,” laughed Holmes. “Maybe you can tell me something about the Aldertons. Are they easy to please? As easy as Mr. Garnet, for example?”
“Well, as for Mr. Garnet, he’d eat almost anything I put in front of him with no questions asked, except on Fridays. He’d give me my money for the week’s food every Monday and tell me to make it last until the Sunday. And he gave me enough that it didn’t take a lot of doing on my part to make that happen. He always gave me enough. Take the Aldertons, though. They pay well and they’re good enough people, but things have to be just right for madam. He’s fine, though.”
“So why did
Mr. Garnet leave? Why didn’t you go with him if he was such a good employer?”
She put down the rolling pin and looked Holmes in the eye. “Because he just walked out of the place without warning, that’s why. I came in one morning and there was a note on the kitchen table telling me that he was not going to be living here any more. He left me two weeks’ wages with the note, so I can’t grumble about that side of things. But it was a bit of a shock, I can tell you.”
“I can imagine that it was. Do you still have the note that he left you?”
“Lord bless you, no sir. I used it to light the fire with that morning.” She took the sheet of pastry and started to arrange it over the apples in the pie dish.
“But you recognised his writing?”
She paused in her preparation of the pie. “Now that’s a funny thing, sir. It wasn’t in his writing. I’d seen his writing often enough. He used to leave me little messages like ‘No meat today’. He wouldn’t eat meat on a Friday, you see, like some of them won’t, like I said to you just now. And he always used to write those to me. But this note telling me that he’d gone away was typed out on one of those machines.”
“That is most suggestive,” commented Holmes. “You mentioned that he would not eat meat on Fridays. Were there any other strange habits of his?”
She put her hands on her hips as she considered the question. “Well, now you ask me, sir, I don’t think he ever went outside. At least, not in the daylight. I am fairly sure that he went out at night, though, because I found some empty bottles which I had never seen before, and he must have bought them from the Dragon down the road.”
“What sort of bottles, may I ask?”
“Some sort of whiskey. Irish whiskey, I believe. And there were often some glasses there that had been drunk out of, which means he must have had company, though I never saw any such in the daytime.”
“How very interesting. So Mr. Garnet had visitors in the evening? Another question, if I may?”
“Time is pressing, sir.”
“I know that, but please, if I may. Was this house let furnished to the Aldertons?”
“Yes it was. All the little Eastern knick-knack things came with the Aldertons, though. Now if you will excuse me, sir, I must be getting on.”
“One last question, if you please. There is a smell in this house, as you know. Was this smell present when Mr. Garnet lived here?”
“I never noticed it, sir. Not that I go to that part of the house much anyway. But Mr. Garnet used to like to go there and take his cup of tea and sit in the conservatory drinking it. I am sure he would have said something to me if he had smelled anything.” She turned to her cooking with a determined air.
“Thank you, Mrs. Wiles, you have been most helpful. We will leave you to your pie. I regret that we will not be here this evening to partake of it.” So saying, he left a half-crown unobtrusively on the corner of the table, an action that did not pass unnoticed.
“Why, thank you, sir,” she said to us as we left the kitchen.
“I fancied that I heard Alderton return while we were conversing with the cook,” Holmes said to me. “Let us return to the drawing-room. By the way, let me enlighten you as to the origin of Garnet’s name.”
“Another Catholic martyr of the Tudor years?” I hazarded.
“Precisely so. It would seem that Mahoney wished to send out signals to those who could read his code, so to speak, while at the same time maintaining his anonymity. A strange combination, to be sure.”
As my friend had deduced, we discovered on reaching the drawing-room that Alderton had indeed returned, and he eagerly asked for news of the firm of Edwards & Lowe. Holmes informed him of the previous day’s events, to which Alderton responded.
“What is their motive in persecuting us in this way?” asked Mrs. Alderton.
“I think it is probably more accurate to say that they are not persecuting you at all. I will wager there is nothing in this business that concerns either of you personally. But a question, if I may?”
“Of course.”
“You took this house furnished, I believe?”
“We did,” agreed Alderton.
“There were no traces of the previous occupant? Clothes? Bed-linen and the like?”
“Nothing along those lines when we viewed the property with the agent, certainly.”
“Did you at any time find a typewriter among the effects here?”
“A typewriter? What a strange question. No, I have never seen anything of the sort here.”
“Thank you. As I said just now, I do not believe that all these problems are concerned with you and Mrs. Alderton personally. They seem to me to be connected with the house—or to be precise about it, the recent history of the house.”
“Then what is going on?” demanded Alderton. “What is the meaning of the foul smell?”
“That seems to be a very bad business indeed,” Holmes told him, shaking his head.
“What is going on here?” Alderton repeated. “What is all this about?”
“I have my suspicions,” responded Holmes. “These are deep waters, and quite frankly, I fear for your safety. I saw just now that Mrs. Wiles appears to be preparing an excellent dinner for you. While you are eating it, I propose to contact London, and arrange for you and the girl to be moved to a place of safety which will be provided by the Government.”
Mrs. Alderton’s hands flew to her face, and she gasped. “Can we not take care of this problem ourselves? James is an experienced soldier, after all, and he still has his revolver.”
Holmes bowed to her. “Madam, with all due respect for you and for your husband’s experience and courage, which I do not doubt for an instant, I hear that the men we find ourselves up against are desperate men who will stop at nothing to achieve their ends. I really must insist that you follow my instructions. I will go now and send telegrams to those responsible. Watson, you must stay here and help defend the place should it come to that pass, which I doubt.” So saying, he strode to the door and left us.
“What in the world does he mean by all this? Is he mad?” asked Alderton of me.
“Sherlock Holmes is by no means mad,” I answered him. “His mind is one of the finest reasoning engines with which I have ever come into contact, though, and it is not always easy to follow his trains of thought. I have a few ideas concerning the matter of which he has just spoken, but it would be presumptuous of me to attempt to explain them. It is perfectly possible that my conjectures are altogether mistaken in this matter.”
At this moment, the maid Lucy entered to announce that dinner was ready.
“Shall we set an extra place for you, Doctor?” Mrs. Alderton asked me.
“There is no need for that,” I said. “Though it may seem a little melodramatic to say that I will keep watch, nonetheless that is what I will be doing in this room while you eat in the other. I will take my evening meal later. Please do not concern yourselves about me.”
It was clear to me that the Aldertons were both frightened at the prospect of the shadowy doom that Holmes had foretold.
Sherlock Holmes never uttered such warnings lightly, and following the departure of the couple to take their meal, I therefore positioned myself by the window where I was able to keep watch on the comings and goings through the front gate of the garden. I had been watching for some thirty minutes, by my estimation, when I espied Holmes entering the gate. I made my way to the front door to let him enter.
“You have caused Mr. and Mrs. Alderton a great deal of worry, not to say fear, by your words,” I told him.
“I have to confess that this was indeed my intention,” he answered, with no hint of apology in his voice. “I have just returned from telegraphing Hopkins at the Yard,” he informed me. “I have requested the presence of some local constables to stand guard here, and ensure that no ill befalls the Aldertons. After I had dispatched my message, I made my way to the police station where I had requested a reply be sent. I am happy to say that H
opkins immediately recognised the importance of my communication, and he himself will be arriving here later this evening. Ah, here are the promised reinforcements,” he added, gesturing to two uniformed constables who were entering the driveway. “Excellent.”
He moved to the front door to admit the two, who introduced themselves. “Your Inspector has no doubt informed you that you are to protect the couple currently occupying this house, who are presently eating their evening meal, and after they have removed to a place of safety, to stand watch and arrest any person attempting to enter.”
“Yes, sir, that was made clear to us,” affirmed the older policeman, a grizzled sergeant.
At that moment, the door to the drawing-room opened, and James Alderton entered. He appeared taken aback by the presence of the two police officers, but addressed himself to Holmes.
“You said earlier that we might have to leave the house. You are suggesting that we make arrangements for a stay of several nights?”
“Indeed so, though I trust that your sojourn away from here will not be more than one of two or three days’ duration. You may also tell the girl Lucy to do the same. For the moment, these upstanding officers are here for your protection. But believe me, there is danger to you and your wife only while you are in this house. Once you are elsewhere, you will be safe. It is the house, not you, which is the object of the rogues’ attention.”
“You relieve my mind a little,” replied Alderton. “I will inform my wife of what you have just told me.”
“Would they really be in danger if they stayed?” I asked Holmes after Alderton had left the room.
“Indeed so. The ruffians I expect to confront will stop at nothing to achieve their ends.”
“Mahoney and his accomplices?”
“Not Mahoney,” he answered me with a thin smile. “Mahoney is here in this house.”