The Complete Sherlock Holmes

by SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

  “I shall be in a fever until I see you again,” cried the diplomatist.

  “Well, I’ll come out by the same train to-morrow, though it’s more than likely that my report will be a negative one.”

  “God bless you for promising to come,” cried our client. “It gives me fresh life to know that something is being done. By the way, I have had a letter from Lord Holdhurst.”

  “Ha! what did he say?”

  “He was cold, but not harsh. I dare say my severe illness prevented him from being that. He repeated that the matter was of the utmost importance, and added that no steps would be taken about my future–by which he means, of course, my dismissal–until my health was restored and I had an opportunity of repairing my misfortune.”

  “Well, that was reasonable and considerate,” said Holmes. “Come, Watson, for we have a good day’s work before us in town.”

  Mr. Joseph Harrison drove us down to the station, and we were soon whirling up in a Portsmouth train. Holmes was sunk in profound thought and hardly opened his mouth until we had passed Clapham Junction.

  “It’s a very cheery thing to come into London by any of these lines which run high and allow you to look down upon the houses like this.”

  I thought he was joking, for the view was sordid enough, but he soon explained himself.

  “Look at those big, isolated clumps of buildings rising up above the slates, like brick islands in a lead-coloured sea.”

  “The board-schools.”

  “Light-houses, my boy! Beacons of the future! Capsules with hundreds of bright little seeds in each, out of which will spring the wiser, better England of the future. I suppose that man Phelps does not drink?”

  “I should not think so.”

  “Nor should I, but we are bound to take every possibility into account. The poor devil has certainly got himself into very deep water, and it’s a question whether we shall ever be able to get him ashore. What do you think of Miss Harrison?”

  “A girl of strong character.”

  “Yes, but she is a good sort, or I am mistaken. She and her brother are the only children of an iron-master somewhere up Northumberland way. He got engaged to her when travelling last winter, and she came down to be introduced to his people, with her brother as escort. Then came the smash, and she stayed on to nurse her lover, while brother Joseph, finding himself pretty snug, stayed on, too. I’ve been making a few independent inquiries, you see. But to-day must be a day of inquiries.”

  “My practice—” I began.

  “Oh, if you find your own cases more interesting than mine—” said Holmes with some asperity.

  “I was going to say that my practice could get along very well for a day or two, since it is the slackest time in the year.”

  “Excellent,” said he, recovering his good-humour. “Then we’ll look into this matter together. I think that we should begin by seeing Forbes. He can probably tell us all the details we want until we know from what side the case is to be approached.”

  “You said you had a clue?”

  “Well, we have several, but we can only test their value by further inquiry. The most difficult crime to track is the one which is purposeless. Now this is not purposeless. Who is it who profits by it? There is the French ambassador, there is the Russian, there is whoever might sell it to either of these, and there is Lord Holdhurst.”

  “Lord Holdhurst!”

  “Well, it is just conceivable that a statesman might find himself in a position where he was not sorry to have such a document accidentally destroyed.”

  “Not a statesman with the honourable record of Lord Holdhurst?”

  “It is a possibility and we cannot afford to disregard it. We shall see the noble lord to-day and find out if he can tell us anything. Meanwhile I have already set inquiries on foot.”

  “Already?”

  “Yes, I sent wires from Woking station to every evening paper in London. This advertisement will appear in each of them.”

  He handed over a sheet torn from a notebook. On it was scribbled in pencil:

  £10 reward. The number of the cab which dropped a fare at or about the door of the Foreign Office in Charles Street at quarter to ten in the evening of May 23d. Apply 221B, Baker Street.

  “You are confident that the thief came in a cab?”

  “If not, there is no harm done. But if Mr. Phelps is correct in stating that there is no hiding-place either in the room or the corridors, then the person must have come from outside. If he came from outside on so wet a night, and yet left no trace of damp upon the linoleum, which was examined within a few minutes of his passing, then it is exceedingly probable that he came in a cab. Yes, I think that we may safely deduce a cab.”

  “It sounds plausible.”

  “That is one of the clues of which I spoke. It may lead us to something. And then, of course, there is the bell–which is the most distinctive feature of the case. Why should the bell ring? Was it the thief who did it out of bravado? Or was it someone who was with the thief who did it in order to prevent the crime? Or was it an accident? Or was it—?” He sank back into the state of intense and silent thought from which he had emerged; but it seemed to me, accustomed as I was to his every mood, that some new possibility had dawned suddenly upon him.

  It was twenty past three when we reached our terminus, and after a hasty luncheon at the buffet we pushed on at once to Scotland Yard. Holmes had already wired to Forbes, and we found him waiting to receive us–a small, foxy man with a sharp but by no means amiable expression. He was decidedly frigid in his manner to us, especially when he heard the errand upon which we had come.

  “I’ve heard of your methods before now, Mr. Holmes,” said he tartly. “You are ready enough to use all the information that the police can lay at your disposal, and then you try to finish the case yourself and bring discredit on them.”

  “On the contrary,” said Holmes, “out of my last fifty-three cases my name has only appeared in four, and the police have had all the credit in forty-nine. I don’t blame you for not knowing this, for you are young and inexperienced, but if you wish to get on in your new duties you will work with me and not against me.”

  “I’d be very glad of a hint or two,” said the detective, changing his manner. “I’ve certainly had no credit from the case so far.”

  “What steps have you taken?”

  “Tangey, the commissionaire, has been shadowed. He left the Guards with a good character, and we can find nothing against him. His wife is a bad lot, though. I fancy she knows more about this than appears.”

  “Have you shadowed her?”

  “We have set one of our women on to her. Mrs. Tangey drinks, and our woman has been with her twice when she was well on, but she could get nothing out of her.”

  “I understand that they have had brokers in the house?”

  “Yes, but they were paid off.”

  “Where did the money come from?”

  “That was all right. His pension was due. They have not shown any sign of being in funds.”

  “What explanation did she give of having answered the bell when Mr. Phelps rang for the coffee?”

  “She said that her husband was very tired and she wished to relieve him.”

  “Well, certainly that would agree with his being found a little later asleep in his chair. There is nothing against them then but the woman’s character. Did you ask her why she hurried away that night? Her haste attracted the attention of the police constable.”

  “She was later than usual and wanted to get home.”

  “Did you point out to her that you and Mr. Phelps, who started at least twenty minutes after her, got home before her?”

  “She explains that by the difference between a ’bus and a hansom.”

  “Did she make it clear why, on reaching her house, she ran into the back kitchen?”

  “Because she had the money there with which to pay off the brokers.”

  “She has at least an answer for ev
erything. Did you ask her whether in leaving she met anyone or saw anyone loitering about Charles Street?”

  “She saw no one but the constable.”

  “Well, you seem to have cross-examined her pretty thoroughly. What else have you done?”

  “The clerk Gorot has been shadowed all these nine weeks, but without result. We can show nothing against him.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Well, we have nothing else to go upon–no evidence of any kind.”

  “Have you formed any theory about how that bell rang?”

  “Well, I must confess that it beats me. It was a cool hand, whoever it was, to go and give the alarm like that.”

  “Yes, it was a queer thing to do. Many thanks to you for what you have told me. If I can put the man into your hands you shall hear from me. Come along, Watson.”

  “Where are we going to now?” I asked as we left the office.

  “We are now going to interview Lord Holdhurst, the cabinet minister and future premier of England.”

  We were fortunate in finding that Lord Holdhurst was still in his chambers in Downing Street, and on Holmes sending in his card we were instantly shown up. The statesman received us with that old-fashioned courtesy for which he is remarkable and seated us on the two luxuriant lounges on either side of the fireplace. Standing on the rug between us, with his slight, tall figure, his sharp features, thoughtful face, and curling hair prematurely tinged with gray, he seemed to represent that not too common type, a nobleman who is in truth noble.

  “Your name is very familiar to me, Mr. Holmes,” said he, smiling. “And of course I cannot pretend to be ignorant of the object of your visit. There has only been one occurrence in these offices which could call for your attention. In whose interest are you acting, may I ask?”

  “In that of Mr. Percy Phelps,” answered Holmes.

  “Ah, my unfortunate nephew! You can understand that our kinship makes it the more impossible for me to screen him in any way. I fear that the incident must have a very prejudicial effect upon his career.”

  “But if the document is found?”

  “Ah, that, of course, would be different.”

  “I had one or two questions which I wished to ask you, Lord Holdhurst.”

  “I shall be happy to give you any information in my power.”

  “Was it in this room that you gave your instructions as to the copying of the document?”

  “It was.”

  “Then you could hardly have been overheard?”

  “It is out of the question.”

  “Did you ever mention to anyone that it was your intention to give anyone the treaty to be copied?”

  “Never.”

  “You are certain of that?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well, since you never said so, and Mr. Phelps never said so, and nobody else knew anything of the matter, then the thief’s presence in the room was purely accidental. He saw his chance and he took it.”

  The statesman smiled. “You take me out of my province there,” said he.

  Holmes considered for a moment. “There is another very important point which I wish to discuss with you,” said he. “You feared, as I understand, that very grave results might follow from the details of this treaty becoming known.”

  A shadow passed over the expressive face of the statesman. “Very grave results indeed.”

  “And have they occurred?”

  “Not yet.”

  “If the treaty had reached, let us say, the French or Russian Foreign Office, you would expect to hear of it?”

  “I should,” said Lord Holdhurst with a wry face.

  “Since nearly ten weeks have elapsed, then, and nothing has been heard, it is not unfair to suppose that for some reason the treaty has not reached them.”

  Lord Holdhurst shrugged his shoulders.

  “We can hardly suppose, Mr. Holmes, that the thief took the treaty in order to frame it and hang it up.”

  “Perhaps he is waiting for a better price.”

  “If he waits a little longer he will get no price at all. The treaty will cease to be secret in a few months.”

  “That is most important,” said Holmes. “Of course, it is a possible supposition that the thief has had a sudden illness—”

  “An attack of brain-fever, for example?” asked the statesman, flashing a swift glance at him.

  “I did not say so,” said Holmes imperturbably. “And now, Lord Holdhurst, we have already taken up too much of your valuable time, and we shall wish you good-day.”

  “Every success to your investigation, be the criminal who it may,” answered the nobleman as he bowed us out at the door.

  “He’s a fine fellow,” said Holmes as we came out into Whitehall. “But he has a struggle to keep up his position. He is far from rich and has many calls. You noticed, of course, that his boots had been resoled. Now, Watson, I won’t detain you from your legitimate work any longer. I shall do nothing more to-day unless I have an answer to my cab advertisement. But I should be extremely obliged to you if you would come down with me to Woking to-morrow by the same train which we took yesterday.”

  I met him accordingly next morning and we travelled down to Woking together. He had had no answer to his advertisement, he said, and no fresh light had been thrown upon the case. He had, when he so willed it, the utter immobility of countenance of a red Indian, and I could not gather from his appearance whether he was satisfied or not with the position of the case. His conversation, I remember, was about the Bertillon system of measurements, and he expressed his enthusiastic admiration of the French savant.

  We found our client still under the charge of his devoted nurse, but looking considerably better than before. He rose from the sofa and greeted us without difficulty when we entered.

  “Any news?” he asked eagerly.

  “My report, as I expected, is a negative one,” said Holmes. “I have seen Forbes, and I have seen your uncle, and I have set one or two trains of inquiry upon foot which may lead to something.”

  “You have not lost heart, then?”

  “By no means.”

  “God bless you for saying that!” cried Miss Harrison. “If we keep our courage and our patience the truth must come out.”

  “We have more to tell you than you have for us,” said Phelps, reseating himself upon the couch.

  “I hoped you might have something.”

  “Yes, we have had an adventure during the night, and one which might have proved to be a serious one.” His expression grew very grave as he spoke, and a look of something akin to fear sprang up in his eyes. “Do you know,” said he, “that I begin to believe that I am the unconscious centre of some monstrous conspiracy, and that my life is aimed at as well as my honour?”

  “Ah!” cried Holmes.

  “It sounds incredible, for I have not, as far as I know, an enemy in the world. Yet from last night’s experience I can come to no other conclusion.”

  “Pray let me hear it.”

  “You must know that last night was the very first night that I have ever slept without a nurse in the room. I was so much better that I though I could dispense with one. I had a night-light burning, however. Well, about two in the morning I had sunk into a light sleep when I was suddenly aroused by a slight noise. It was like the sound which a mouse makes when it is gnawing a plank, and I lay listening to it for some time under the impression that it must come from that cause. Then it grew louder, and suddenly there came from the window a sharp metallic snick. I sat up in amazement. There could be no doubt what the sounds were now. The first ones had been caused by someone forcing an instrument through the slit between the sashes, and the second by the catch being pressed back.

  “There was a pause then for about ten minutes, as if the person were waiting to see whether the noise had awakened me. Then I heard a gentle creaking as the window was very slowly opened. I could stand it no longer, for my nerves are not what they used to be. I sprang out of bed
and flung open the shutters. A man was crouching at the window. I could see little of him, for he was gone like a flash. He was wrapped in some sort of cloak which came across the lower part of his face. One thing only I am sure of, and that is that he had some weapon in his hand. It looked to me like a long knife. I distinctly saw the gleam of it as he turned to run.”

  “This is most interesting,” said Holmes. “Pray what did you do then?”

  “I should have followed him through the open window if I had been stronger. As it was, I rang the bell and roused the house. It took some little time, for the bell rings in the kitchen and the servants all sleep upstairs. I shouted, however, and that brought Joseph down, and he roused the others. Joseph and the groom found marks on the bed outside the window, but the weather has been so dry lately that they found it hopeless to follow the trail across the grass. There’s a place, however, on the wooden fence which skirts the road which shows signs, they tell me, as if someone had got over, and had snapped the top of the rail in doing so. I have said nothing to the local police yet, for I thought I had best have your opinion first.”

  This tale of our client’s appeared to have an extraordinary effect upon Sherlock Holmes. He rose from his chair and paced about the room in uncontrollable excitement.

  “Misfortunes never come single,” said Phelps, smiling, though it was evident that his adventure had somewhat shaken him.

  “You have certainly had your share,” said Holmes. “Do you think you could walk round the house with me?”

  “Oh, yes, I should like a little sunshine. Joseph will come, too.”

  “And I also,” said Miss Harrison.

  “I am afraid not,” said Holmes, shaking his head. “I think I must ask you to remain sitting exactly where you are.”

  The young lady resumed her seat with an air of displeasure. Her brother, however, had joined us and we set off all four together. We passed round the lawn to the outside of the young diplomatist’s window. There were, as he had said, marks upon the bed, but they were hopelessly blurred and vague. Holmes stooped over them for an instant, and then rose shrugging his shoulders.