by John Hall
‘I am certain.’
‘But it might be nothing more than the lodging of the one man you followed,’ I pointed out.
Holmes shook his head. ‘I stayed there long enough to ensure that several of the rascals came and went. I am satisfied that it is the place. Indeed, I fancy that I could hazard a guess at the very room where the hostages are being held, for I noticed bars at one window.’ He tapped with his stick to tell the coachman to stop. ‘We had best not get too close,’ he told us. ‘We can approach on foot from here.’
I got out of the carriage and looked around me. I did not recognize my surroundings, but it was certainly no very salubrious neighbourhood to which Holmes had brought us. I fancy that the City, the great commercial and financial heart of London, was not too far away in one direction, and the East End not too far in the other, but these squalid streets seemed to have nothing in common with any human locality that I had met with. I shivered, and moved closer to the others for companionship.
Holmes looked at Wainwright. ‘You know the address? And what to do?’
‘You may rely upon me implicitly, Mr Holmes.’
We had decided that the cab driver should remain behind, the promise of a double fee having secured his allegiance. And Peterson, who had taken something of a turn for the worse on the journey, was also left behind in Sir James’s carriage, partly to watch that no harm came to it, and partly to act in some sort as a reserve force if needed. Holmes also suggested that Billy remain behind, but the pageboy rather demurred at this, and Holmes wasted no time on argument but agreed to let him go with us.
We went in a party as far as the corner, where Wainwright left us to approach the front door of the house which Holmes had indicated. The rest of us took a more circuitous route, through sordid back yards and alleyways, until we came into a narrow, foul-smelling lane. Holmes moved quietly along until we reached a broken-down gate, where he stopped, and motioned to us to be careful.
I moved to his side, and peeped over the gate, to see a common enough back yard, with the usual outbuildings of humble city housing. The place looked untidy, as if it had not been swept for ages. The house too looked run-down, the back door unpainted, and none too solid, to my eye. So much the better for Holmes’s little scheme, I thought grimly.
The windows were grimy. Those on the upper storey were securely shut, and I could make out the one with bars which Holmes had mentioned. Grubby, faded curtains were drawn closed over that window, and I shuddered to think of the conditions under which Lady Lewis and the lad must be held.
The ground-floor windows, though, stood open. I have said that it was an ordinary back yard, and that means that it was not very large; barely spacious enough to contain those simple brick offices which I mentioned. And the house itself was an ordinary working-class abode, with perhaps two rooms on the ground floor. We could therefore hear sounds from inside the house without too much difficulty, and I caught some fragments of conversation, although I could not discern exactly what was being discussed. It sounded like some fairly convivial gathering, for there was the occasional burst of coarse laughter. I had no doubt that the rogues were thrashing out the division of the prospective spoils, or perhaps speculating as to how each would spend his own share.
At my side, Holmes glanced at his watch. ‘Wainwright should be there now,’ he whispered to me.
Almost as soon as he had said the words, there came a thunderous knocking at the front door of the house. The conversation from within ceased abruptly. The villains, I thought, had evidently not expected visitors.
Holmes dug an elbow in my ribs as Wainwright knocked again, louder this time. ‘They dare not ignore him indefinitely,’ he whispered in my ear, ‘for he will knock until they answer, and the neighbours will eventually turn out to see what is amiss.’ And he gave that low chuckle that had boded ill for so many criminals in the past.
Wainwright knocked yet again, and this time the door was thrown open with some vigour. Holmes motioned to me to advance into the yard, a safe enough process now, since the members of the gang would be concentrating their attention upon the events at the front door. I made my way cautiously inside the gate, then managed to move carefully right up to the back door. The others followed, finding what cover they might in the yard.
‘It’s the rent.’ I heard Wainwright’s rather plaintive voice at the front of the house.
‘The rent?’ A less refined voice altogether, that one, and with a note of aggression in it. ‘What about the blinkin’ rent, then?’
‘It hasn’t been paid,’ said Wainwright. ‘It’s overdue, by some three months, and I need something on account, or the landlord will have to evict you. I have the books here, and everything.’
‘Stay here, Billy,’ said Holmes calmly over his shoulder. He looked at me, and I nodded.
‘Something on account? Clear off, you so-and-so, or I’ll give you something on account right enough!’
‘It’s no use blaming me,’ said Wainwright, more plaintive than ever, ‘I’m only doing my job, aren’t I? Any violence and it’s a police matter.’
‘Police?’ There was a worried note in the word, then the speaker raised his voice, shouting back into the house. ‘ ’Ere, Sammy, you pay the rent, don’t yer? Come and deal with this silly beggar, will you?’
‘Now, Watson,’ said Holmes, and I put my shoulder to the flimsy door.
We burst into the place in a tight knot, and fairly charged through the couple of filthy rooms which comprised the accommodation. The little group of men by the front door turned in some surprise as we stormed in. Some evidently thought it was a police raid — possibly the earlier mention of the police had unsettled them, or it may have been the sight of PC Perkins in his uniform — and made their escape via the front door, Wainwright very sensibly standing aside to let them pass.
Some were more bold, and turned to fight. I judge that there were three or four of these more valiant companions, so we were pretty evenly matched. We had the advantage of surprise, and a slight superiority of numbers, although Holmes and Sir George both left us and ran upstairs after seeing that there was no real danger down here.
We were, of course, more concerned with freeing the captives than exacting vengeance, or capturing the criminals, and so we did not pursue them too far when they ran off, as they all did before very long.
We were taking a breather, and venturing to congratulate one another, when there was a terrific commotion at the head of the shabby staircase, and we looked round to see a large rough man — the same, I fancy, as we had encountered earlier — come charging down the stairs, taking them two or three at a stride. In itself, that would not have occasioned us too much heart-searching, but we were horrified to see that he held young Lord Hammerford clutched in his hefty arms.
For a moment, we stood there as if frozen, barely able to comprehend what was happening. Then Perkins and I moved towards the foot of the stairs, just as the large man came crashing down the last few steps. His sheer bulk and momentum prevented our doing anything useful to stop him. Although Perkins was a big man, and I myself am no milksop, we were simply swept aside by the fellow as he crashed through us, and before we had properly recovered our poise, he had gone through the still open back door.
It seemed superfluous to tell one another to go after him. Such words as we did utter as we charged through the little house are hardly to be set down here. We shot out into the backyard, and came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Billy, grinning from ear to ear, and holding young Lord Hammerford in his arms. The large man was sprawled full length in the yard but before we could reach him he had scrambled up and taken to his heels.
‘Trip him, did you, Billy?’ I asked the pageboy.
He nodded. ‘Went a right purler, ’e did,’ he said appreciatively.
‘Well done! I am only sorry I did not see it. Is the lad harmed at all?’
‘Not ’im,’ said Billy stoutly. ‘Proper little ’ero, ’e is, and all.’ This was true. In so
far as his recent adventure had affected young Lord Hammerford, it seemed to have made him ready for further excitement; he appeared indeed to consider the whole affair as having been some sort of game, and it took the best efforts of Lady Lewis, who was also unharmed in any way, to calm him down. That done, he promptly went off to sleep.
‘Now,’ said Holmes, rubbing his hands, ‘let’s see what’s come to our feast,’ and he led the way back to the front door.
Our sole captive was the little shrimp of a man who had followed us at one point. He was clearly no hardened villain, and for a while I thought that he might need my professional services, for he seemed ready to faint at the thought of what lay in store. I was for letting him go, but PC Perkins said majestically that Justice must be done, and took the poor little fellow off.
‘Well, Holmes,’ I said, ‘all’s well that ends well.’
‘Strikingly original, Watson,’ he said with a laugh. ‘But true enough, though. This chapter of our adventures has been concluded in a satisfactory fashion, but there remains the outstanding matter of the treasure. It seems somewhat churlish to bother Sir George just now,’ he added, looking tolerantly at that gentleman, who was busily engaged upon comforting his wife in the traditional fashion, ‘but tomorrow we must continue our search.’
Nine
‘Well, Sir George?’ asked Holmes.
It was the morning after the adventure which I have just recounted for you, and we were all four, Sir George, Sir James, Holmes and myself, sitting in our rooms at Baker Street.
Sir James had taken charge of Lady Lewis and young Lord Hammerford, who were now, according to Sir James, safer than the Bank of England and indeed as safe as Her Majesty herself. He would add nothing to this cryptic utterance, and bluntly refused to answer any of the questions I very naturally put to him; but his demeanour inspired every confidence.
‘Sir George?’
Sir George yawned, excused himself, and said, ‘I don’t believe I thanked you gentlemen properly yesterday evening? I had other things on my mind,’ and he flushed, and laughed awkwardly.
‘No need for thanks, Sir George,’ said Holmes. ‘But I had actually intended more in the way of a delicate hint as to the clue which you discovered.’
‘Oh, of course!’ Sir George seemed nonplussed for a moment, then he went on, ‘You are right, Mr Holmes. The clue, to be sure. Well, you saved my wife, and so I suppose you have certainly earned the right to know what it was.’ He scribbled on a piece of paper, and handed it to Holmes, who glanced at it and passed it to me.
I read: ‘Less than a palace, more than a house,’ and on the next line, the cipher, ‘R3/49.’
I looked at Sir George. ‘The two phrases, if that is the right word, were on separate lines?’
He nodded. ‘The whole thing was just as I have written it there.’
‘Odd,’ I mused. ‘What can be less than a palace, more than a house? I suppose it must —’
‘Hang on!’ It was Sir George who interrupted me, and he clapped his hands over his ears as he did so.
I stared at him in some astonishment, and he uncovered his ears and said, ‘You might at least let me leave the room before you begin your deliberations, Doctor.’
‘But I thought we were working together now?’ I asked, as bewildered as ever.
‘Devil a bit of it,’ said Sir George stoutly. ‘What on earth could have given you that idea? We’d agreed to go our separate ways, had we not?’
Holmes, seemingly as confused as I was myself, looked at Sir George. ‘But Lady Lewis assured me that we should be working together to solve the puzzle.’
‘Did she, though? She never mentioned anything of the kind to me.’
Holmes frowned, then his face cleared. ‘Ah, I see what has happened. Lady Lewis did indeed leave here yesterday promising to speak to you on the matter, but then the kidnapping took place and that, I suppose, caused the matter to slip her mind.’
‘I expect you’re right,’ Sir George agreed cheerfully. ‘Certainly I can tell you that whatever we may have spoken about last night, it wasn’t this damned treasure hunt!’ and his tanned face flushed again with embarrassment, but not entirely unmixed with pardonable pride and some pleasurable memories, as it seemed to me.
‘This puts things in a rather different light,’ said Holmes slowly. ‘We had agreed with Lady Lewis that it would be much safer to work together, and to decide upon some reasonable apportionment of the fortune, either before we began our search together, or later when it should be safe in our hands.’
‘A very sensible suggestion,’ said Sir George. ‘Still, as I say, my wife never broached the subject to me, and I think you will agree that a promise made on my behalf without actually consulting me first, even if it were made by my dear lady wife, can hardly be regarded as binding on me.’
Sir James threw his head back, and demanded loudly of the ceiling, ‘What can be done with this fellow? He’s quite impossible.’
Sir George laughed. ‘As to that, Sir James, it was you, as I seem to recall, who rejected the notion of our working together right at the very outset.’
‘True, but that was before I had properly realized the danger that we were in.’
‘Oh, that can hardly matter now, can it?’ asked Sir George. He appealed to Holmes, ‘We have surely wrecked this gang’s plans, have we not? There can be no possible question of our being in further danger, can there?’
Holmes shook his head. ‘I fear you take too sanguine a view, Sir George. Oh, I cannot deny that we have spoiled one of their little schemes, but you may be certain they will lose no time in hatching another.’
‘But what of the man we arrested last night?’ I asked. ‘I understood that Inspector Lestrade is questioning him at the moment.’
‘True enough,’ said Holmes, ‘but even if Lestrade extracts the name of every member of the gang, and that is by no means guaranteed, they must still be traced and taken. And they will scarcely wait for the police to arrive. By now they will be in their lairs, safely hidden.’
‘And so out of the way,’ I said triumphantly.
‘Not a bit of it,’ said Holmes, shaking his head. ‘They can emerge at any time, suitably disguised, can they not? And then, even if those particular villains did happen to be out of the running entirely, the gang’s leaders will simply find new hirelings, unintelligent but obedient, to carry out their orders. For I can tell you with every assurance that the real villains, the genuine organizers of the whole scheme, were nowhere near that house last night. Indeed, by removing those villains whom we might recognize, we may well have made matters more difficult for ourselves, rather than less so, for the new troops will be unknown to us. A point which I seem to recollect attempting, unsuccessfully, to make yesterday,’ he added with a frown.
‘Ah, but the situation is still changed,’ said Sir George. ‘Now that the ones we hold dear are quite safe — and I am grateful beyond words for that, I can tell you, no argument there — then the only danger would be to ourselves. And which of us is so cowardly as to fear that?’ he asked scornfully, looking round at us. ‘Why, Mr Holmes, what could they do? If they kill me, it would simply mean they have lost a possible guide to the treasure. If they were to kidnap me, I hardly think that Sir James here would be willing to part with the cash to ransom me. And I’d feel much the same about him!’
It was Sir James’s turn to laugh. ‘There’s a great deal of truth in what he says, Mr Holmes. Yes, let us each pursue our own line, and see what happens.’
‘Will you not reconsider?’ asked Holmes earnestly. ‘Yesterday you were quite convinced, Sir James, and I am sure that you, Sir George, would have been persuaded. Had I insisted that we reach some agreement before I consented to reveal the hiding place, would you have stood out?’
‘Perhaps not,’ muttered Sir George. ‘Under that sort of duress, with my wife’s liberty and perhaps her very life at stake, I’d have agreed to anything. But the position has changed dramatically. Thanks entirely
to you, I allow, Mr Holmes, but it has changed never the less, and I must act accordingly.’
‘I entirely agree with Sir George,’ said Sir James.
Holmes threw up his hands in despair. ‘Very well, if you insist. But the responsibility for whatever happens is upon your shoulders, gentlemen.’
Sir George stood up. ‘We may be on opposite sides temporarily,’ he told us rather awkwardly, ‘but for all that I’m truly grateful for your work last night. If anything had happened to my wife —’
Holmes raised a hand. ‘As to that,’ said he, ‘I seem to recall that you were of considerable assistance in releasing young Lord Hammerford, so I think honours are pretty even there.’
Sir George smiled. ‘Thank you, Mr Holmes. Well then, we start from scratch, as it were. It’s a pleasure to be matched with such honourable opponents, gentlemen, and there can be no disgrace involved in coming second. A thought which should console you somewhat.’ And he shook hands with us all, and left us.
‘Now, Watson,’ said Holmes when the door had closed behind Sir George, ‘the next clue.’
‘Less than a palace, more than a house. A country estate? Oh, no, it is here in London that we must look. Unless, that is, old Lord Hammerford is directing us to his own estate in the north?’
Holmes shook his head. ‘I hardly think so. The clues thus far have all been fairly local, so I cannot think that a dramatic change of scene is indicated at this stage. Still, it is a possibility, and we shall not reject it out of hand. Continue, Watson.’
‘An hotel? That’s more like it, these curious numbers might be “R” for a room number? Third floor, room forty-nine?’
‘Well done, Watson, that is indeed more like it. But then would a man with a house in London need to stay at an hotel, I wonder? Another possibility, but I cannot think it is a probability. Something that is not quite a palace. Perhaps “house” in the business sense is meant? An office building? Palace, house, flat, lodgings, mansion —’