by David Marcum
“We sat together for a while longer. I didn’t want him to feel ashamed that he was poor, but I eventually asked him if he often stole in order to eat. He answered that he did it rarely and only so the provisions at home could stretch further for his family. After about forty minutes, he decided he should return home. I gave him a few coins and told him that should he find himself in further need or trouble, he could call upon me. My plan was, as I told him, to be a consulting detective. I pointed out my rooms and said that my landlady would be in attendance should he require help, as I was aware that a young man of the streets might find the prospect of visiting an older gentleman in his lodgings somewhat uncomfortable.”
“Quite wise, Holmes.” I didn’t wish to pursue that particular topic, but was anxious to hear more about young Wiggins. I refilled my coffee cup and sat back to hear more.
“I didn’t hear from him for some time and almost forgot about him. One day, my landlady, Mrs. Ellsworth, announced someone was there to see me. She brought not one but two visitors. ‘Mr. Theodore Wiggins and Mr. Joseph Danbury to see you.’ Understand Watson, I wasn’t in the position of receiving any callers, let alone two young people. I asked her to stay in the interest of propriety, and she very kindly agreed, offering the use of her sitting room instead of my rather modest room. We settled in and Mrs. Ellsworth soon joined us, bringing a tray with a plate of biscuits and some milk for us. She was a good woman, and took a chair to the back of the room, near the lamp, and occupied herself with her knitting.”
“I asked Wiggins what brought them to Montague Street, and he told me that he and his friend Joseph were there to ask if there was any type of job or errand that they could do for me. He wondered if I had started my ‘detecting’ yet, and thought that they could help, although I’m not sure he had any idea what form that help might take. I found the offer rather amusing at first blush, but as I sat there, I remembered that he’d told me that people took no notice of youngsters like himself. Well, I don’t think it requires much more explanation to determine that was how the idea of the Irregulars came about. Wiggins, Joseph, and a few of their other friends have performed admirably on a number of occasions since then. As I’ve told you, they can go everywhere and hear everything, all the while going unnoticed. To those unaware, they are just so much noise, yet they are remarkable in following someone and eavesdropping. Since that first encounter, there’s been an ever-shifting membership in the force, and I do believe that Wiggins has made a point to look a bit more disheveled in order to fit in with his comrades, as you noted in your first meeting after our move to Baker Street.”
The question of how Holmes met Wiggins had been revealed. The remainder of the day moved slowly as we both worried and wondered about the threat posed to the Wiggins siblings. I tried to read, but at some point realized I’d covered the same page three times. Holmes made no effort to occupy himself with any extraneous activity, other than to finally change into attire more acceptable to receiving visitors. After tea, which I drank and Holmes didn’t, we prepared ourselves for whatever problem Wiggins might present. The sun still shone on Baker Street, the streets filling with those returning to their homes after a day at work, when Mrs. Hudson brought the two upstairs. She soon returned from her trip below stairs with sandwiches and pudding for them and settled it on the table before withdrawing.
Holmes waved them to seats near the empty hearth, after encouraging them to share in Mrs. Hudson’s offerings. They each took a small plate but held it on their laps. Wiggins began.
“Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, I told you we have a problem. It’s not me quite so much as my sister here. This is Elizabeth.” Wiggins pointed to his older sister, who bore a marked resemblance to him. She was quite tall, which accentuated that same lean, tired look which too many children share, and was dressed in a simple, clean black dress, obviously not new, but well cared for. Sitting at the edge of her seat, she looked down at the plate in her lap. Never having met us before, I realized that it might be difficult for her to tell us about whatever problem she had. “Elizabeth, it’s all right for you to talk to Mr. Holmes, or if it’s something personal, you can talk to me or Mrs. Hudson. As your brother just said, I’m a physician.”
Elizabeth looked up. ‘It’s nothing like that, sir. It’s just something wrong that’s happened at work, and no one will listen to me. I’ve tried.” She took a moment to compose herself. “I work at Layton’s Department Store. It’s my job to help stock the Ladies’ Area with whatever is needed. I’m in and out of the back of the store, bringing fans, gloves, hats, and even some unmentionable items to the right counters. I restock the soaps, perfumes, and powders, really whatever small items I’m asked to fetch, and sometimes have to get boxes and twine for the salesladies to wrap the purchases for the customers.” Elizabeth seemed to relax a bit as she spoke of her daily routine.
“And do you like your job?” Holmes asked. She nodded, “Yes, I do. The people I work with are nice, and the men carry the heavier items, like the bolts of cloth and such. What I make helps out a little at home. It’s a long day, but I don’t mind too much.” She had relaxed enough that she began to nibble at her sandwich.
Holmes continued his questioning. “If your job is good and you have no problem with the store employees, what’s happened to make you so uneasy?”
She looked at him straight on. “You’ve got to understand, Mr. Holmes, I don’t want to make any trouble. We need my job, and I don’t want to give anyone a reason to fire me.”
“Elizabeth, I think it would be best if you started from the beginning. What’s happened?”
“I’m in and around the store all day, mostly in the Ladies’ Area and the back rooms, but sometimes I’m through the Gentlemen’s Department to get the wrapping necessities. So one day I went to get the wrapping supplies and I see this man. He was dressed like such a toff that I couldn’t help looking at him while he was at the counter where they keep the gloves. The clerk had spread some of the gloves out and he was going through it all, like he was looking for something particular. When the salesman turned to get something else to show him, this man puts something from the counter into his coat. I saw him steal clear as day. He left right away and I told the clerk what I saw. He told me to stop being such a silly girl and not to imagine something like that of my betters.”
Holmes and I exchanged glances. Young Elizabeth was just as bright and observant as her brother. She continued with her story. “It was a few days later when I saw him again. He wasn’t dressed quite so smart-like as he was the last time, but it was him. He walked the same way, head held high up like he was looking down his nose at something. Plus he walked a bit like his foot hurt, like it was sore or his shoe didn’t fit him right. You can tell a lot about somebody from the way they walk.” I could see Holmes silently agreeing with her as he nodded.
“So I followed him. I got pretty close, but stood behind one of the pillars so he wouldn’t see me, and got a lot better look at his face. You can guess, Mr. Holmes, that the customers really don’t really pay attention to someone like me since I’m not there to wait on them or carry their things. He was in the jewellery department, and I heard him ask to see some of the watches and fobs. When the salesman leaned down to get more watches out of the case, this man put his hand down on the counter, over one or two of the watches, and said something about, ‘Oh look at the time, I must be off.’ And away he went with those watches in the palm of his hand. I told the salesman, but nothing happened.”
She began to shift around in her chair and finally placed her plate on the nearby table. “Mr. Holmes, I keep seeing this man. He’s in and out of the store a couple of times each week, always dressed differently, but well enough so that no one wonders why he’s in a store like Layton’s. Sometimes he’s got glasses, or a beard, or just looks a lot older. I’ve seen him with a cane, with crutches, with his hair gray, but I think it’s really brown, and with different hats. He�
�s even had on an Army uniform. But I know it’s him, even when he walks all bent over. I’ve heard a few of the salespeople start to talk about things missing. Gloves, cravats, and the like, and who knows what else. Nobody wants to make a fuss about what’s gone because they don’t want to be a trouble maker. They don’t want to be accused of not keeping an eye on the goods, or even called a thief themselves.
“Anyway, one day about two weeks ago, I was in the Ladies Department and I see this woman in a fancy black dress and a hat with a veil over her face. Felt a bit bad for her, I did, thinking she was in mourning, but then she started walking, and I swear it was him. Walked the same way as the man I told you about. So I kept my distance, but I kept an eye on her, or him. She went to the ladies’ jewelry counter and started looking at some nice pieces, and sure enough, while there’s things out on the counter, she starts coughing and acting like she’s got the vapors - or worse. Well, the clerk was looking around for some help and don’t you know, that woman takes some of the jewelry and sweeps it into her bag. Then she makes a big fuss and says she has to go home to rest, and out the door she goes. I knew what she’d taken was worth more than those gloves, and this time the managers didn’t act like nothing was missing. But when I tried to tell my supervisor about what I saw, all I got was a dressing down for saying something indecent about a man in a woman’s clothes.”
I sat back in my chair, appalled that this young woman was trying to do the right thing and instead of being rewarded, seemed to be in danger of losing her position. Holmes had followed this narrative with considerable interest. “Elizabeth, I know both you and your brother are frightened. Has this thief accosted you?”
She shook her head while Wiggins put his hand on her arm. “Honest, Mr. Holmes, my mum has tried to raise us right, although we both know sometimes one has to help themselves a bit.” She cast a sidelong glance at her brother, who had the good grace to blush. “I don’t want to get fired, but I hate that someone is stealing from the store. He came in the other day, looking around like he’d never been there before, asking one of the floorwalkers how to get to the Men’s Department. He was dressed in a vicar’s outfit, and I swear he had different teeth, kind of bucked out, and he was bent over some, walking like he was an older man, but he favored that same foot. He went into the department and I followed him, staying to the side. While he was looking at some braces and the like, he caught me staring at him. His eyes got real cold and I knew that was no vicar looking back at me, and he saw I was on to him.
“I practically ran back into the Ladies’ Department. When the store closed, I left, and who do you suppose was standing close to the employee door but him, wearing different clothes, more like a working man. He started following me, acting like he was just walking home, but I ran like the Devil was chasing me. I lost him, and I was never so glad to get home and lock the door behind me as I was that day. But two days later, there he was across the street like he was waiting for someone. I got in with a crowd of people, talking to everybody, and after a while he seemed to give up on following me. For the past few days, Theo has been meeting me and walking me home. He hasn’t bothered me, but now he knows what both of us look like. I’m even more scared that maybe he knows where we live.”
While the children might not have been aware of just how angry Holmes was to hear their story, I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen him so furious. If the thief had walked into our rooms at that moment, I think that Holmes might have taken the jack-knife from the mantel and threatened to run him through. He took a moment to collect himself. “Elizabeth, Dr. Watson and I will escort you home and make sure that your family is safe until we can determine what game is being played.” His look told me that I should take my revolver in case further danger presented itself.
The two children looked relieved that at last someone had believed Elizabeth. They hurriedly finished their treats from Mrs. Hudson, and with my urging, wrapped a few of the sandwiches in newspaper to take home. We were soon out the door and into a cab. Despite their anxiety, Theo and Elizabeth seemed excited to ride in such luxury. In a short time, we arrived at a run-down neighborhood. Exiting the cab, Holmes paid the driver and we entered the building, which had the unmistakable universal smell of the poor. We climbed the stairs to their rooms and Elizabeth unlocked the door to their lodgings. Like their clothes, the furniture was well-worn, but all appeared to be clean, and it was obvious that an attempt had been made to make it comfortable and cheery. Their younger brother James met us, but Elizabeth dispatched him with some of Mrs. Hudson’s sandwiches and instructions to occupy himself. She turned to us. “My mum will be home soon. We’ll be all right until then.” Holmes would have no part of this. “No, we’ll stay with you until she arrives, and then we’re all going to talk about what’s happened.”
Elizabeth was right about her mother arriving home, and a few minutes later we heard the key in the door. Mrs. Wiggins must have been a pretty woman in her youth, with the same hair color, complexion, and height as her children, but hard work and worry had taken a toll on her, and she seemed weighed by her burdens. She straightened when she saw two strange men in her home, but Theo quickly introduced us as the friends he occasionally worked for. “Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Theo has talked about you and Dr. Watson.” It suddenly struck her how odd it was that we were in her home, and she asked, “Is something wrong?” She picked at her shawl and looked about her, clearly worried that some new problem had befallen her children.
“Everyone is fine, Mrs. Wiggins, but there is a situation we need to discuss. Theo and Elizabeth came to us today about a man who is stealing from Layton’s, and their concern that he now knows Elizabeth is aware of his thefts and has tried to follow her. Dr. Watson and I will be offering whatever assistance we can, and I will make sure that the police keep an eye out for you and yours.”
Worrying about the everyday struggle to care of her family was one thing, but this threat to them was entirely different. She sat down heavily into a nearby chair. “Please, tell me what’s going on.” Elizabeth sat at her feet, taking her hand, and related the same, if somewhat abbreviated, story that she’d told us. When she was finished, Mrs. Wiggins stood up, ramrod straight and holding her daughter’s hand, a mixture of fear and anger on her face. “Gentlemen, what can you do to help us? I swear that I will safeguard them with my own life while we’re together, but I can’t protect them if I’m at work, or Elizabeth is.”
Holmes could be gentle when called upon. “I cannot countenance the thought that any harm might come to your children who have tried very hard to do the right thing. You’ve raised them well, madam. I know it will do no good to tell you not to worry, but let Elizabeth go to work as normal. Dr. Watson and I will see to her safety. Theo, you should stay home with James, and as I said, the police will keep watch.”
Mrs. Wiggins looked at her brood, and I could only imagine the fate she envisioned for anyone who might attempt to harm them. “Very well then, Mr. Holmes. We shall do what you say. I am trusting you with the most valuable thing I have.” We said our goodbyes and heard her lock and bolt the door before we exited the building. We walked for a short distance before we encountered a constable. Holmes had a word with him, and it was clear that his name was known to the young man. He promised to concentrate his attention on their lodgings and would relay Holmes’s request to his fellow officers.
We were soon back in Baker Street, and Holmes took a seat after collecting his pipe and tobacco from the mantel. I knew it would be pointless to question him before he finalized his planning. He wasn’t one to involve others before the strategy was in place. I left him and went to my own room, knowing that sleep would be elusive as I worried about the family, although less so than for Mrs. Wiggins.
But dawn broke and I realized that I had indeed slept, although the condition of my bedcovers was evidence to the disturbed nature of my rest. I dressed and went to the sitting room. Holm
es appeared to be in the same position as when I’d left him some hours before.
I went to our breakfast table and poured myself a cup of coffee. “Holmes, have you determined what course of action we shall take today?”
“I have given the matter considerable thought as you slept. I believe we should begin by talking to the manager of Layton’s and letting him know that his young employee has the best interests of the establishment at heart and ask for his cooperation. We should then extend our scope to other stores which offer the same quality items which prove so tempting to our thief.”
We were at the door of Layton’s when it opened for the day’s business and very quickly were ushered into the office of William McKenzie, General Manager. While at first hesitant to reveal any losses, when hearing the particulars of Elizabeth’s story, he was as outraged as we were about the thefts and the apparent threat to his employee. “Gentleman, I am quite concerned that this thief is trying to follow her home. Do you think it possible that he might actually harm her?”
“Mr. McKenzie, I’m not sure whether he means to scare her or actually harm her, but I don’t want to take a chance on the latter. I’m asking you to speak confidentially to your most trusted employees today and instruct them to inconspicuously watch over young Elizabeth. I cannot stress enough that Miss Wiggins may be in considerable danger and shouldn’t be left alone in any of the storerooms. This must be done in a discreet fashion. We don’t want our thief to know we’re on to him yet. Dr. Watson and I will take care of the rest.” He reassured us that his concern ran as deep as ours and standing, shook our hands as we left the office.
We called upon four other establishments that day, each time speaking to the manager. If any were reluctant to speak of revenue losses, the story of what was occurring at another store caused them to drop any pretense that all was well. All four of the stores had incurred considerable shortfalls through the theft of small yet valuable items, and despite the increased vigilance of their employees, no one had been caught. The managers seemed pleased to hear that a plan was in place and requested they be notified when the criminal was captured.