Without My Boswell: Five Early Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (From the Dispatch Box of John H Watson, MD)

by Hugh Ashton

  Holmes took his glass, thanked me, and commenced his tale. “ I was at the time living in Montagu-street. There was little in the way of interesting cases to occupy me, and I had yet to establish those relations with Lestrade and the other Scotland Yard detectives that have proved so fruitful a source of rechercé problems. Do you know,” he laughed, “ I had even thought of taking a position as a lawyer’s clerk, if only to keep body and soul together.”

  “ There might have been other benefits. It would also have given you some deeper experience of the law and of legal matters,” I pointed out.

  “ Indeed it would have done, and that was one reason that the idea commended itself to me,” he agreed. “ However, happily for me, and possibly happily for the legal profession, it was not to be. I received a knock on the door of my rooms one morning, and opened it to discover a somewhat agitated gentleman with his fist raised, ready to knock again. From his dress, I concluded that he was not a fellow-countryman, a suspicion that was confirmed as soon as he opened his mouth to speak.

  “ ‘ You are Monsieur Holmes ? ’ he asked me, with a pronounced French accent. ‘ The detective ? ’

  “ As you are aware, Watson, I have French blood, and it had been the fancy of my parents, when I was a schoolboy, to send me to France where I spent the summers with my French relations. As a result, my knowledge of the French tongue was extensive, though it had been some years since I had occasion to converse at length using it. Nevertheless, it was in that language that I replied to him, informing him that indeed this was the case, and inviting him to enter.

  “ Once he was inside and comfortably ensconced in the only armchair in the room – Watson, you would scarcely credit how meanly those rooms were furnished – he proceeded to identify himself and tell me his story. We continued to converse in French, which appeared to please him not a little, as he puffed out his chest and told me about himself, not without a certain amount of pride which I secretly found to be comic.

  “ He was a M. Duclasse, attached to the French Legation here in some capacity that he did not name, but hinted strongly that he was connected with the Sûreté, which as you know, is the detective branch of the French national police force.

  “ ‘ We have a problem,’ he told me, ‘ of a most delicate and complex nature. It may seem a trifling matter to you, but believe me, it is a serious matter for the Republic. You may not be aware that the President of our nation is a connoisseur of the fine things of life ? Food, wine, women... well, maybe we need not dwell on that last. It is with the second that we are most concerned. Some years ago, a certain gentleman residing in the region of the town Cognac was fortunate enough to encounter some cases of brandy that had been deposited there many years before. This brandy was of the cru we know as Grande Champagne, and, according to the labels on the outside of the case, had been destined for the table of the great Emperor, Napoleon Bonaparte himself.

  “ ‘ The date given on the labels on the cases of these bottles ? ’ he continued, with that shrug of the shoulders which is so characteristic of our French cousins. “ The year was 1815, that of the Battle of Waterloo, which you doubtless recall as an English victory from your history lessons at school. Of course in France, we regard it otherwise.’ He shrugged again. ‘ C’est la vie, non ? It is clear that the merchant who had packed these bottles ready for dispatch to his Emperor had found it unnecessary, or maybe unprofitable, to continue with the transaction.’

  “ ‘ In any event, our worthy discoverer of the cases, being no fool, realised what a treasure he had discovered. I do not refer, naturally, to merely the monetary value of the brandy, but to the gastronomic riches contained in these bottles. He took the liberty of opening one to determine for himself the true worth of his find, and confirmed his ideas as to its value.

  “ ‘ Knowing as he did the value that the President of our Republic places on such things, he offered the remainder of his find to the Élysée Palace, for a suitable consideration. Although our worthy bourgeois is a true patriot and lover of his country, he wished to be compensated adequately for his patriotism. You understand ?

  “ I replied that I did, and asked, as a matter of some interest, the amount that had been paid for this brandy. The answer came as a considerable surprise to me. I cannot recall the exact amount, but I remember calculating with some amusement that I could have maintained myself for a number of years in the style in which I was currently living with the sum he named.

  “ ‘ But you did not come to me to discuss old brandy,’ I said to him.

  “ ‘ Indeed I did,” he retorted. ‘ That is precisely why I am here. Let me inform you of the events of a week ago. Our Ambassador here in London was invited to dinner with one of your noblemen.’ Here he named the peer in question, a Lord _____*. ‘ Following the dinner, which he reports was of the usual standard of English cuisine – that is to say, virtually inedible – his host presented him with a glass of brandy, the like of which he had only tasted once or twice previously. Those occasions were at the Élysée Palace. Astounded that brandy of this quality should have made its way to these shores, he enquired of his host if he might be permitted to examine the bottle. Such permission being granted, he was astonished to see that it was identical to that which he had previously enjoyed in Paris.

  * Note by Watson : Since the descendants of the noble lord still occupy a prominent position in the public life of this nation, though the man himself died some time ago, I have determined not to name him.

  “ ‘ You suspect Lord ______ to have purloined the brandy from your President ? ’ I smilingly asked the Frenchman.

  “ ‘ No, no, no and again no. Of course I am accusing him of no such thing,’ protested my visitor. ‘ But it is important for me to find out the source of this brandy. Simply consider for yourself ! If the thief can obtain something as priceless as this cognac, you must imagine what else could be the target. Treaties. Secret papers. Anything ! ’ He spread his hands wide in a gesture of defeat. I had to smile to myself once again at the idea of conflating the importance of brandy with that of government treaties.”

  “ I wonder what your brother Mycroft would have made of that comparison ? ” I laughed.

  “ Brother Mycroft would have maintained his decorum, of that I am sure,” answered Holmes, “ but I am sure that his inward reaction would be the same as mine. In any event, my next speech was a simple one, which I was sure would answer the question before him.

  “ ‘ Why, the answer is perfectly simple,’ I said to him. ‘ The worthy citizen who made the original discovery kept some bottles in reserve, possibly as some kind of insurance against a rainy day. He has sold these extra bottles, probably to some itinerant English dealer in wines and spirits, and is now consoling himself with the contents of those bottles of inferior quality which he has purchased with the proceeds.’

  “ ‘ My dear M. Holmes,’ my visitor admonished me. ‘ I would have hoped that you had a higher opinion of the police forces of France than this. This was the first thought that occurred to me, and I sent off a telegram to my superiors in Paris immediately I was apprised of the situation. They in turn telegraphed the authorities in the town of Cognac, and our worthy citizen was interrogated by them about the brandy he had discovered. He vigorously denied that there had ever been any bottles other than those he had supplied to the President, other than the one he had opened and sampled for himself. He swore this to be the truth, and our agents had no choice but to believe his words.’

  “ ‘ Then,’ said I, ‘ there is one more possible explanation. The hoard that your citizen presented to your President was not the only one of its kind. Another has been discovered and smuggled out of the country to here, where a favoured few have been allowed to purchase it.’

  “ Again my interlocutor shook his head. ‘ M. Holmes, I am sorry to tell you that the reports I had received of your intelligence appear to be sadly mistaken. You cannot seriously believe that this was not imagined by us, can you ? Naturally, this poss
ibility had also been carefully considered by our agents in Paris. As you may imagine, a most careful inventory is maintained of those bottles in the Élysée Palace. On examination of the stocks in the cellar there, it was discovered that all the cases which contained the bottles were present, but that one whole case which should have been full was completely empty ! All the bottles had been taken from it – a dozen in all.’ He paused, and wiped his brow with his handkerchief. ‘ The conclusion is obvious, M. Holmes. The brandy was abstracted from the Palace at some time in the past six months. That much is certain, since a careful inventory of the cellar was made then, and all the cases and their contents were listed. Now we know that least some of the missing contents of the empty case have made their way over the Channel to this country. That much is also certain.’

  “ ‘ And you would wish me, as an Englishman who is not connected with the official police, to make enquiries in this country as to how this came about, and to identify the culprit responsible, and whether he is currently in England or in France ? ’

  “ ‘ Precisely, M. Holmes. You may go where I may not. As a Frenchman, even as an official representative of the French Republic, I would have little access to those areas of society where you may enter freely. I am sure that you have your own ideas of how and where you may start your investigations, but if it were up to me, I would begin by questioning the noble lord’s servants and making demands of them as to the source of the brandy.’

  “ ‘ Then we are of one mind, on this at least,’ I told him. There then came, Watson, the part of my business for which I have always felt some distaste. That is to say, the agreement as to my fee. In this particular instance, given that my client was a large and prosperous government, I felt little compunction about demanding a large sum for my labours. Somewhat to my surprise, this demand was met with no opposition, and I felt I had seriously undervalued my services in this case.”

  “ It has always remained somewhat of a mystery to me,” I said to my friend, “ how you determine the fees for your services. I do not pretend to know the exact details of your finances, but it seems to me that your expenditure exceeds your income, and I have never heard you talk of private means.”

  “ There is some truth in what you say,” he agreed, laughing. “ It is true that I lack private means, but there is a source of income that I have never disclosed to you, but must, for various reasons, remain a secret from the public. If I tell you that my brother acts as the paymaster, perhaps you will have some idea of the work that I perform that earns this money.”

  I had a vague understanding of the kind of activities to which he was referring, but refrained from comment.†

  † Note by Watson : I now know that Mr. Holmes is no longer engaged in those activities on behalf of H.M. Government, and I feel that I am able to disclose the fact, as indeed I did in the adventure I entitled “ His Last Bow”.

  Holmes continued, “ When my visitor had left me, I determined to pursue the course which had been recommended to me, but possibly by a somewhat more determined and less haphazard fashion than that which my French client would have followed. Though at this stage of my career I knew that I possessed a talent for making observations and for deducing the facts of a matter from details that would pass unremarked by many, in this case there was no evidence to present itself for my study. My task here was therefore to place myself in a position where such details would present themselves to my gaze.

  “ You may say, Watson, that so much of detective work is the piecing together of facts. Well, so it is, but it is the initial accumulation of those facts that is essential. I will not say that any fool can follow the threads once they are placed in his hands, but it is considerably easier to do this than it is to discover those threads in the first place.

  “ I accordingly presented myself at the rear entrance of the London house of Lord ______ who had served the brandy, in the guise of a representative of an importer of wines and spirits, and asked if I might speak to the butler of the house. Though in many houses, the choice of wine is that of the master of the house, in many others the butler takes on the task of deciding what the family is to drink.

  “ The housemaid accepted the card that I presented – I had taken the liberty of inventing a position and an employer for myself, but had decided to retain my own name, since at that point I was relatively unknown to the world – and carried it in while I cooled my heels on the mat. At length she returned, and informed me that the butler would be good enough to spare me ten minutes of his time.

  “ With an introduction such as that, I fully expected to encounter a pompous jack-in-office, and I was not disappointed. I had roughened my speech and my accents, and Gittins, for that was the name of the man, accordingly felt me to be his social inferior and treated me as such. It was obvious that he had granted me an audience merely so that he could have the pleasure of refusing my entreaties to buy wine from my pretended employer.

  “ However, despite his rudeness, I was able to discover the name of his current supplier, and this formed the next port of call on my journey.”

  “ Were you not,” I asked, “ somewhat concerned lest he take you up on your offer and attempt to buy wine from you ? ”

  “ I flattered myself that I had sufficient mental resources to deal with that eventuality,” Holmes smiled. “ I had ensured that the prices I was giving him were well in excess of the market prices charged for the poor quality of wine that I was offering. In any event, the circumstance did not arise.

  “ I therefore made my way to the warehouse of the wine merchant whose name I had obtained. This was Vamberry, whose name, more than any other, I now associate with this case. Naturally, by now I had ceased to play the role of a representative of a wine merchant, and I presented myself as a foolish young rake-hell, well supplied with money from a deceased parent, who was determined to stock his cellar with the most expensive and impressive liquors that money could buy. This brought me, as I had anticipated, into the private office of Vamberry himself.

  “ The man in question was obviously a sampler of his own wares. Indeed, he did more than simply sample them, if his red nose and broken veins were anything to go by. Decanters of various spirits stood in a line behind his desk, and wine glasses were very much in evidence. It seemed to me that such trappings were a little unbusinesslike. Still, if a man’s business is selling wine, then wine will inevitably find its way into his business premises, so perhaps I was a little harsh in my judgements there.

  “ As it happens, as you know, I am partial to a light hock, and I commenced my enquiries in this direction. At first he attempted to fob me off by singing the praises of a rather mediocre Moselle, but I was soon able to persuade him of my bona fides in that area, and we arranged that I would take delivery of a somewhat overpriced Rhine wine. I had no doubt that the expense I incurred would be recompensed by the French government when I presented my final reckoning to them.

  “ ‘ But,’ I said to Vamberry, and lowering my voice to what I hoped was a suitable confidential whisper, ‘ the reason I came to you and to no other dealer in these things is on account of a superb old cognac I enjoyed the other day at the house of Lord ______, which I was informed was supplied by your firm.’ I proceeded to give the details of the cognac as I had been supplied them by Duclasse.

  “ He appeared to be a little taken aback by this, but rallied with an answer. ‘ The brandy in question, sir, was indeed a fine spirit. Supplies of such a liquor are, of course, limited, and I regret to inform you that we have no more of that particular vintage in stock. Maybe I can interest you in this Armagnac,’ he added, gesturing towards one of the decanters behind him. ‘ Allow me to offer you a sample, sir. You will find that it is not, of course, up to the standard of that which you enjoyed at your friend’s house – I am sure you are well aware that nothing can approach that – but I think you will find this a satisfactory substitute.’ So saying, he picked up one of the glasses and made as if to pour a little of the contents of th
e decanter into it, but I spoke.

  “ ‘ Thank you, but no. I really must insist on knowing where you discovered this nectar of the gods that I enjoyed the other night,’ I told him.

  “ He smiled. ‘ You may insist all you please, my dear sir, but I will not divulge my sources to you, I assure you of that. All that I can say is that a very limited quantity was discovered in France and sent here. Now all the bottles have been sold, and there is no more to be had, in this country at least. Should you desire to find some, I would suggest that you cross the Channel and search for yourself, but I fear your search will be a long and fruitless one.’ He smiled, not altogether pleasantly. ‘ Now that I have informed you of this, sir, maybe I can tempt you with some of this Armagnac ? No ? A shame, sir, if I may say so. To where shall I have the hock delivered ? ’

  “ I gave him my Montagu-street address, and left the building, now convinced that Vamberry was well aware of the nefarious origins of the brandy. I made my way to the French embassy and paid a call on M. Duclasse, where I asked him for the name of the supplier of wines and spirits to the Élysée, without, however, telling him where I had just visited.

  “ ‘ My dear M. Holmes,’ he said to me, laughing. ‘ There are so many who compete for the honour. I could not even begin to give you a complete list.’

  “ ‘ But who,’ I insisted, ‘ was responsible for delivering the brandy that was stolen ? That is the only point at issue, is it not ? ’

  “ ‘ Very well,’ he said to me, consulting a paper which he extracted from a file. ‘ The name of the firm is Vanbeur et Fils.’ By now I knew I was on the right track. The name of Vanbeur would easily become Vamberry once anglicised, and the coincidence was too strong for me to ignore. I requested and received the address of this Paris merchant, and left London for Paris a couple of hours later.

  “ It was a challenge for me to be working in a city with which I was not completely familiar. Although I possessed a good working knowledge of Paris, it was not the complete working knowledge of the streets and alleyways of London that I had almost completely developed at that time.