by Ashton, Hugh
On my return to Baker Street, Holmes seemed astounded at my appearance.
“What in the world has been happening, Watson? Have you the pearls? And why are you in a servant’s livery?”
I explained the events of my journey to him, and his face clouded. “My apologies once again, Watson, for having placed you in this position. However, the fact that they mistook you for me points clearly to one thing.”
“That being?” I replied.
“That Blunt is in communication with the Germans, and has informed them of my interest, and has described the appearance of the man he believes to be Sherlock Holmes. There is no other way that you could be mistaken for me, and addressed by my name in that fashion. I do not know the identity of the larger of the men, but I am certain from your description that the other is Graf Grüning, whose photograph has appeared with relative frequency in the illustrated papers. Von Grüning arrived here about three months ago from Berlin, where he was apparently one of those close to the Kaiser.”
“So you believe Blunt is involved in this?”
Holmes shook his head. “I believe that he has acted as the dupe of the Kaiser, but little more than that. However, following our visit to him, he has doubtless informed the Germans of the interest we are showing in the affair. Unhappily for you, he was mistaken in his identification, but it has at least tipped his hand and let us know where we stand. And now,” opening the bag and withdrawing the rope of pearls, “we have these little beauties.”
“What do you propose doing with them?” I asked.
Holmes replied, his eyes twinkling, “I have plans for them, Watson, never fear. Your account of the assault on you earlier makes the anticipation of my solution all the more pleasurable. And now, I am sure you wish to divest yourself of the servant’s garb in which you currently find yourself. My congratulations to you on your ingenuity, by the way. It is obvious that you are developing a certain facility in these matters of subterfuge. And I, too, wish to exchange my raiment.”
We departed the sitting-room for our respective bedrooms, and when I returned, clad in attire that was more suited to my temperament and station, I beheld Sherlock Holmes, whom I did not at first recognise, dressed as he was in a frock coat and accompanying garments of a distinctly un-English appearance. On my asking him the meaning of this disguise, he replied in a distinctly American tone of voice, “You see before you Tobias K Mellinthorpe, a citizen of the fair city of Cincinnati, in the state of Ohio.”
“That is as may be,” I replied. “And what is Mr Mellinthorpe’s role in this comedy to be?”
“Why, he is a collector,” replied Holmes in his usual tones. “He collects pearls and other valuable items. While you were out obtaining the counterfeits from Lady Enfield, I caused enquiries to be made in certain circles. The word is out that there is a rope of fine pearls to be disposed of – discreetly, you understand. This is not an item that is to appear on the open market, and the clientele for this is a small and select one, if not altogether illustrious.”
“They are already selling the pearls?” I asked. “For what purpose?”
“They can hardly expect to retain them,” he answered. “They are too distinctive to permit of that. In any event, the cash would be welcome. However, they have made a mistake in offering the pearls for sale in this country, even through the third party they are employing for the purpose. Our criminals would never dream of purchasing something so distinctive. Had they moved the pearls to the Continent, I have no doubt that some enterprising receiver would have taken them off the Germans’ hands in one country, and offered them for sale in another. I therefore propose to make an offer for them in my new character as Tobias Mellinthorpe.”
“But do you have the cash to purchase them?”
“I have no intention of purchasing them,” he replied enigmatically, as he made his way to the door, and taking up the bag containing the counterfeit jewellery. “I will be two or three hours away. Do not admit anyone,” he warned me. “I will give the same instruction to Mrs Hudson.”
-oOo-
Holmes returned in high good humour within the appointed time. “Tobias Mellinthorpe is no more,” he declared, stripping off the white wig he had been wearing, flinging it onto the hat-stand, and depositing the bag on the table. “He has served his purpose. And now to the next stage of the plan. Let us together to Mr Abrahams once more. I do not think your assailants will dare attack the two of us.” As it transpired, there was no sign of the Germans as we left Baker Street, and though both Holmes and I were on the alert, we did not see them during the whole of the journey.
Abrahams received us with his usual courtesy and warmth. “Dear me, Mr Holmes, you seem to be becoming quite a fixture here,” he joked. “Maybe I can offer you permanent employment?”
“Hardly that,” replied Holmes. “However, I come to beg a great favour of you – one which would undoubtedly raise you considerably in the eyes of the society in which you move.”
Holmes had baited his hook skilfully.
“What can I do?” asked Abrahams. His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed his interest.
“I wish you to give a soirée or some similar social event tomorrow evening,” replied Holmes. “It is essential that at least the Prince, Lady Enfield, Mr Oliver Blunt, and Graf Grüning attend, but the more the merrier, as the saying goes. The exact time and place I leave to your discretion, and the nature of the event likewise, but it is essential that those I have mentioned are together in as public a place as possible as soon as is convenient.”
Abrahams spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Do you consider me a magician?” he asked, rolling his eyes.
“I consider you to be an extremely capable man,” replied Holmes. “If I did not do so, I would not be wasting my time talking with you. Of course, I forgot to mention that any expenses you incur will be recompensed.”
“It is not the money,” protested Abrahams. “As I told you on another occasion, I am a rich man by most standards, and the expenses would not affect my well-being. What concerns me is the time needed to write the invitations and to make all the arrangements to ensure all those you mention will attend. But,” meeting Holmes’ steady gaze, “I am sure it will be possible. I take it you and Dr Watson will be present?”
“Naturally, but we may decide to arrive a little earlier than the other guests. Please be sure to let us know when and where the event will take place and we will make our plans accordingly.”
“Very good. Note that I do not ask the motives for your request, Mr Holmes. I am sure that you have your reasons.”
“I do indeed, Mr Abrahams. Once again I am grateful to you for your cooperation.”
“A capital man, that Mr Abrahams,” he said to me as we left the bank. “Would there were more like him.”
“Where to now?” I asked, as he hailed a hansom.
“Lady Enfield’s residence,” he answered, giving the directions to the cabbie.
Lady Enfield met us in the drawing-room, and offered us tea, which was brought to us by a maid. “Your clothes, Doctor Watson, are waiting to be sent to you. I trust there is no hurry there?”
“None at all,” I assured her. “I will return the livery when my garments are sent to Baker Street.”
“And what brings you here?” asked Lady Enfield to Holmes. “Have you retrieved the pearls?”
“I have come to return these to you,” replied Holmes, opening the bag in which I had previously carried the counterfeit jewels and which Holmes, in his character of Mellinthorpe, had also transported them. “You may rest assured, though, that whatever harm your friend may have caused you, he is not the cause of the substitution of the pearls.”
Lady Enfield sighed. “I suppose it was too much to hope for that you could retrieve them and discover the perpetrator of the fraud. I am merely thankful that my trust in my friend was not misplaced, at any event,” she said to Holmes. “I thank you for your efforts, all the same, and I am grateful. You will sen
d me the bill for your trouble soon, I expect.”
“I certainly will not be sending you any account until after tomorrow evening. After then, I may do so, or I may not, depending on the results of a little experiment I am carrying out. May I make a request?”
“Naturally, but I cannot promise I will grant it. What do you wish?”
“Mr David Abrahams will be giving a party of some kind tomorrow night to which you, as well as the Prince—” I observed Lady Enfield give a delicate shudder at the title, but Holmes continued, “as well as Helmut von Grüning and Oliver Blunt are invited. You should wear the pearls I have just given to you. No, I beg you,” he pressed, as she opened her mouth to protest.
“You have hardly named a group in whose company I could feel less comfortable,” she protested. “I hope that you have an excellent reason for this?”
“I do, and I think that when the reason is unveiled, you will approve it,” answered Holmes. “In any case, I am sure that Abrahams will invite others, more to your taste. If you would care to list a few names, I am sure that he will abide by your suggestions.”
-oOo-
The next morning’s post brought an invitation for Holmes and myself to attend a gathering that was to be held that evening at Dorchester House, the London residence of Sir George Holford. I remarked on the venue to Holmes.
“Sir George does not use the house a great deal for entertaining,” he answered me, “and as an intimate of the Royal Family in his role as Equerry, he is almost certainly acquainted with Abrahams and is happy to lend his residence for the purpose. Abrahams is obviously a man of considerable resource, Watson, and not a man to be underestimated.”
“At what hour is the entertainment to start?”
“It is given as half-past nine for ten. I think that we may well wish to be there well before the start of the entertainment.”
Arrayed in formal evening wear, we made our way to Dorchester House a little before the time stated.
“I am lucky to have such friends,” answered Abrahams, when I made some remark about the house. “I help them at times, and they help me with such matters in return. That’s what friends are for, eh?”
“I am sincerely grateful,” Holmes told him, “for your hard work in arranging all of this. How many people will be appearing?”
“I have invited some forty guests, of whom I expect most to be present. I have had to invite several more members of the German Embassy staff in order to soothe their ruffled feelings, since Graf Grüning was invited, but they were not. Lady Enfield also sent me a list of some friends with whom she told me that she would feel more at ease.”
“Admirable,” replied Holmes. “Believe me, you have done a great service.”
As we were speaking, the footman announced the arrival of the party from the German Embassy. I recognised the occupant of the carriage on the previous day, his face still bearing the red mark I had inflicted with the riding-crop. The others I did not know, but Holmes pointed out to me the German Ambassador and the Political Attaché. “It is good that they have arrived,” said Holmes. “I anticipate some amusement later in the evening.”
I noticed von Grüning looking in our direction. Eventually he started to make his way, seemingly reluctantly, in our direction.
“I was not aware, Mr Holmes, that you were an intimate of these circles,” he addressed me, clicking his heels and bowing.
It was Sherlock Holmes who replied. “I fear you are addressing the wrong person,” he smiled. “I am Sherlock Holmes. May I present my friend and colleague, Dr John Watson.”
The look on von Grüning’s face was instant and dramatic. “I believed that you were Watson,” he stammered to Holmes. “My apologies for the mistake.” He bowed once more.
“Perhaps you were misinformed,” Holmes offered, not without a touch of malice to his words.
“Maybe so,” agreed von Grüning, and turned his back on us, making his way over to Oliver Blunt, who was conversing with another group in the opposite corner of the room. Holmes and I observed with some amusement as the German detached Blunt from his friends, and was obviously remonstrating with him in a low but urgent tone, gesticulating at Holmes and myself from time to time.
All conversation suddenly ceased as the Prince of Wales entered the room. It was the first time I had been in close proximity to him, and I was struck by his carriage and the air of dignity with which he bore himself. To my surprise, Abrahams, in his capacity as host, guided him first to Holmes and myself, introducing us to the Prince.
“Ha! So you are the celebrated Sherlock Holmes of whom I have read so much?” he greeted my friend. “I take it you are not on duty, as it were, tonight?”
“As it happens, your Royal Highness,” replied Holmes, “I am very much on duty. I hope that I will be able to provide some entertainment for you and at least some of the guests here tonight as a result of my work.”
“Excellent, excellent,” replied the Prince vaguely, smiling through his beard. “And this is Dr Watson, I take it?” turning to me. “Ready as ever to record the exploits of your friend, what? Enjoyed your pieces in the Strand magazine.”
I bowed and mumbled some inanity, and the Prince moved on.
“That has annoyed the Germans,” remarked Holmes, amused. “Abrahams committed a grave breach of etiquette by introducing us before the Ambassador, but the worst is yet to come for them.”
The evening proceeded, with the guests moving freely between the reception rooms of the great house, and after supper, the party split into tables for whist. Holmes drew the Prince as a partner, and found himself playing against Lady Enfield and Graf Grüning.
For my part, I found myself partnering an amiable Countess, and playing against our host, who was partnered by a senior member of the Foreign Office. I am a wretched whist player at the best of times, but luck was on our side that evening, and we were able to hold our own against the superior play of our opponents.
As we played, one of the sudden hushes fell which sometimes overtake such gatherings. In the silence, von Grüning’s voice could be heard at the table next to ours, asking Lady Enfield why she was wearing false pearls instead of the genuine gems of the Enfield Rope.
If anything, the silence became more intense, as every face turned to the Prince’s table.
“I do not know what you mean,” stammered Lady Enfield, obviously uncomfortably aware of the eyes of the whole room upon her. “These are genuine pearls. How can you make such an accusation?”
“I happen to know that you are wearing counterfeit pearls,” replied von Grüning, standing up. “If you will have the goodness to remove your necklace, and pass it to me, I can easily verify this.”
“Are you mad?” barked the Prince, obviously embarrassed at this breach of manners. “Sit down, Herr Grüning.”
Von Grüning flushed, obviously feeling the insult occasioned by the Prince’s omission of his title and the ‘von’ of his name. “With all due respect, Sir, I wish to prove the truth of my words.”
The Prince flushed a deep red, but grunted his assent, and Lady Enfield unclasped the necklace, and handed it to von Grüning.
“Now, you see,” he sneered triumphantly, rubbing the pearls against his teeth. For the second time that evening, his face changed. “But this pearl appears to be genuine!” he exclaimed. He repeated the process with a pearl at the other end of the rope, and his expression became even more stricken.
“Perhaps a loupe would be of assistance?” offered Holmes, smilingly drawing a lens from his pocket and offering it to the German, who snatched at it.
Von Grüning held the necklace closer to the gasolier above, and peered through the lens at the pearls. “This is the Enfield Rope!” he cried. “This is the genuine article!”
“And pray, what did you expect it to be?” The Prince’s tone was icy.
“I think, Sir, he expected this,” replied Holmes, withdrawing what appeared to be the twin of the necklace from the tail pocket of his coat.
/> At the sight of the other gems, von Grüning dropped the necklace and loupe and stood as if stupefied, unmoving and open-mouthed. Holmes moved swiftly to retrieve the fallen articles, and handed the necklace back to Lady Enfield, who replaced it around her neck.
The Prince stood, and confronted the German Ambassador, who shamefacedly rose to his feet and stood, head bowed. “Your Excellency,” he said, in a voice that was no less chilling for being soft. “One of your staff has offered an unthinkable insult to one of my friends by doubting her word and her honesty. I demand that he apologise forthwith for this intolerable breach of manners.”
Following a barked command from the Ambassador, the wretched von Grüning stammered out some sort of apology to Lady Enfield and to the company at large.
“Furthermore,” the Prince continued, “I fail to see why this man should remain as a member of the German Legation. I expect confirmation that he has left for Berlin by midday tomorrow at the very latest. Do I make myself understood?”
The Ambassador bowed. “Perfectly clear, Your Royal Highness. May I have your leave for myself and my staff to withdraw from this gathering?”
“I would be delighted, as I think all in this room would be, if you were to do so forthwith,” replied the Prince coldly. There was a stir as the Germans departed, bowing deeply as they did so. I noticed Blunt, whose face had turned a deathly white, and who appeared stricken at this turn of events.
“I think, Mr Holmes, you owe us an explanation,” said the Prince to my friend, lighting a cigar.
“With your permission, Sir, I would prefer to give this explanation in private to you, Lady Enfield, and our host Mr Abrahams alone. The story is not one that should be noised abroad too widely. Maybe we can meet at Marlborough House tomorrow?”
“So be it,” answered the Prince. “Tomorrow at ten. I shall expect you and Doctor Watson together with Lady Enfield and Abrahams.”
The evening progressed, and though I was eaten up with curiosity, as I believe were all the other guests, Holmes preserved a discreet silence.