by Unknown
It was Claymore Frisbee who sat in the client's chair when Billy ushered us into our chambers. The president of Inter-Ocean Trust had had dealings with the great sleuth before and good reason to consult with him when troubled.
After cordial greetings and a minimum of small talk, Frisbee accepted my offer of liquid refreshment and got to the matter at hand. "It is this gold bullion robbery, Holmes."
My friend's good-natured expression was promptly erased. Before he could comment, Frisbee beat him to the punch, no mean feat.
"I know of your meeting with Chasseur, but hear me out. You have to, you know," added the banker with a smile.
Curiosity struggled with the hauteur in Holmes' manner. "How so?"
"Have I not heard you say that to prejudge is the mark of a fool?"
Suddenly the sleuth chortled, something he did more often than people thought. "You have me there. Hoist on mine own petard. Let's hear your tale."
Holmes stirred up the fire in the grate with the poker and then seated himself in the cane-backed chair, his long, sensitive fingers steepled together and his manner that of cordial attention.
"A special train of the Birmingham and Northern was routed to Great Yarmouth with a load of gold bullion to be shipped to France," stated the banker, accepting a glass from me. Knowing Holmes' habit of devouring the daily journals, he added, "I'm sure you're aware of the basic facts."
"Let us benefit by complete coverage," suggested Holmes, "including your involvement."
"I'll get to that," replied the banker. "There was half a million pounds on the B & N flyer and the line took elaborate precautions, but the robbery caught them by surprise."
Frisbee must have sensed a thought in Holmes' mind, for he paused in his narration and the sleuth did fill the void. "I can't see why. Of all the articles of value used as a means of exchange, gold is the most anonymous. It lacks the serial numbers of currency and is devoid of geographical characteristics." My eyebrows must have elevated and the sleuth elaborated. "Gold mined in Australia or Russia is not a smidgen different from that found in Canada, the United States, or Africa. Nor does it matter how it is secured. Mined gold, panned gold, hydraulic gold, flotation gold; it is all the same. What surprises me is that more attempts are not made to steal it."
"Well, it is a mite heavy," said Frisbee, "and not available in large quantities outside of bank vaults."
"It was in this case," I said, taking my drink to the settee.
"An unusual situation," conceded the banker. "The precious metal was to be shipped to the Credit Lyonnais in France. They have an issue of gold-bearing bonds coming due, and ever since their unfortunate investment in that Netherlands-Sumatra swindle, there has been talk about their solidarity. The financial firm anticipated a considerable run on the bonds at due date with demands for payment in gold, so they strengthened their reserves by arranging a loan from a syndicate of our west coast banks that were well supplied. The metal was shipped to London from the banks involved and then placed upon the B & N special train. The B & N now employs one Richard Ledger for matters of this sort."
"I don't know his record," interjected Holmes.
"Former army. Service in India. He sold his commission and was taken on by the Kimberly interests as a security man. Comes well recommended. Ledger planned the shipment rather like a military campaign. He arranged for the flyer to make the run from London to Great Yarmouth nonstop. He had a solo locomotive out ahead of the train to prevent tampering with the tracks."
"With a means of communication should the advance engine come upon something, I assume," said Holmes, his attention definitely caught at this point in the story.
"A signal rocket," said Frisbee. "The treasure train consisted of an engine and two boxcars, with the gold in the second one, though that was a carefully guarded secret. On the roof of the first boxcar, Ledger had constructed a miniature block house with steel plating on the outside and slotted windows. Not a large affair, since he had to figure bridge clearances, but serviceable. In it he had four marksmen whom he trained himself. Ledger has a considerable reputation as a dead shot."
"So we were told," I commented, and then wondered why I had spoken at all.
The banker continued: "The marksmen had an uninterrupted view of the sides and rear of the train, and Ledger stated that it was impossible for anyone to board the flyer once she was under way."
"A miscalculation, it would seem," said Holmes in a thoughtful manner. "These riflemen could not see the rear of the train from their fortified position, I would judge."
"No," replied Frisbee, "but the flyer never traveled at less than thirty miles per hour once clear of the B & N yards. To get to the rear of the second boxcar, hijackers would have had to approach from one side of the track or the other and been plainly visible."
"The entire trip being made during daylight?" I queried.
"It was planned that way."
Holmes rose suddenly and took a turn around the room, going over the matter with his quicksilver mind. Then he returned to the mantle and gazed moodily into the hearth fire. "You might well take a shot at the newspaper game should banking ever bore you. You've described the matter far better than the journals."
"With more information," replied Frisbee modestly.
"What happened?" I asked, on tenterhooks.
"The bullion train was two hours outside of London and on an upgrade when suddenly smoke bombs were thrust through the slits in the riflemen's cubicle. They were blinded by the fumes and so choked that they could not even shout for help."
"And there being but one exit from their position, they were trapped within." The banker nodded in agreement with Holmes' remark, and the sleuth threw me a glance.
"Static warfare. Ineffective in modern times, Watson. The old feudal castles served their purpose but are antiquated now as is the entire enclave theory."
"But we're not discussing a military campaign," I remonstrated.
"The defense of the train was planned like one, and I would say the robbery had overtones of army tactics as well. In any case, we have the guard hors de combat momentarily . . ." Holmes turned suddenly toward Frisbee. "Was there any attempt to eliminate the riflemen?"
"None," replied the banker. "Whoever used the smoke bombs, and it had to be more than one person, effectively jammed the half-door leading into the armored cubicle and went about their business."
"Which was?" queried Holmes.
"They disengaged the rear boxcar from the train."
"You mentioned that this happened on an upgrade. The train continued up the slope and the boxcar rolled back down the track in the opposite direction."
"Fiendishly clever, wasn't it?" said Frisbee. "At the foot of the grade there was a stretch of level ground and an unused spur line. The boxcar rolled along until it came to the spur, which the thieves had switched. It then followed the feeder track until it came to a stop of its own volition some distance from the main line. There were marks of a wagon and horses there, and obviously they transferred the gold from the boxcar and made their escape."
"Aided, I judge," mused Holmes, "by the fact that it took some time to discover how they made use of the abandoned spur line."
"That did slow up the pursuit," said Frisbee. "As soon as the robbery was made known to the engine driver and fireman, the locomotive went into reverse and there were signals all up and down the line. By the time they reached the station between the scene of the robbery and London, it was obvious that the missing boxcar had not come that way. Then someone recalled the old spur line, and the local constables, augmented by railway police, hurried back to it. By that time the wagon and the hijackers were long gone. Neighboring villages were alerted but nothing came of it."
Holmes had taken his cherrywood from the mantle and stuffed it with shag. Now he ignited it and puffed furiously. "Anyone," he said finally, "who could plan a theft so meticulously would not leave the disposition of the loot to chance."
He resumed his seat in the cane
-back, gazing into the embers of the hearth fire. "See how they chose the place to strike. An upgrade, which would slow down the engine, but more important, bring the law of gravity into play. The rate of acceleration of the stolen boxcar had to be judged carefully. Too fast and it would derail itself. Too slow and it might not gain the momentum to carry it to the spur line and beyond. You did indicate that the railway car was found some distance from the main line, did you not?" he asked of Frisbee.
The banker nodded.
Holmes laid aside his pipe, and I sensed that he would embark on one of the recapitulations that he found so helpful. I was right. "Two men at least reached the roof of the first boxcar. You mentioned smoke bombs, so I assume they were thrust through the rifle slots of the mobile blockhouse simultaneously and from both sides."
Again Frisbee agreed.
"With the riflemen temporarily out of action, they made their way to the rear of the boxcar and lowered themselves to disengage their prize from the rest of the train. Having uncoupled the connection, no difficult feat, they were now rolling downgrade with the freed bullion carrier. What would have been their next move?"
Frisbee had a ready answer. "An iron ladder would allow them to gain the roof. It seems likely that they used it to arrive above the sliding door to the boxcar. One must have lowered the other down the side of the moving car to attack the door's fastening."
"By what means?" queried the sleuth.
"Cold chisel."
"Which requires a hammer. Which indicates two free hands, so the man was lowered by rope."
"I would think so," stated Frisbee. "By the time the boxcar had rolled off the main line, the job was probably complete and they were ready to unload."
"Aided by the third man," said Holmes.
"Where did he come from?" I asked.
Holmes patiently explained. "As soon as the treasure train passed the spur line, someone had to be there to activate the switch so the boxcar would leave the main line on its return trip. Then the third man closed the switch and took after the boxcar, on foot, I would imagine. By the time the boxcar came to a stop, the third man was available to aid in the unloading. One does not move a half million in gold in but a moment."
"Might there not have been more robbers involved?" I asked. It seemed a reasonable question.
"Not it I were planning it," said Holmes. "The more tongues, the more talk."
Again I blessed providence that my friend had not been born with a larcenous twist in his great brain. Had this been so, surely he would have made the infamous exploits of the late Professor Moriarty seem like something out of Alice in Wonderland.
Frisbee was eyeing my friend shrewdly. "Inspector Stanley Hopkins was rushed to the scene from the Yard."
Holmes smiled. "Our friend Lestrade will be much put out I'm sure."
Frisbee continued: "Hopkins followed your line of thought regarding a member of the gang being positioned close to the spur line. He investigated that section closely but found no marks of a bicycle or horse."
"Then we can assume one of the thieves was fleet of foot." The detective's next question surprised me. "What was the original purpose of the spur line?"
"To service a tin mine that petered out a number of years ago."
"The boxcar came to a stop near the end of track?"
"Quite close to it." Frisbee let a silence grow, and then his eyes narrowed as he posed the key question. "What do you think?"
"I can give you a one-sentence summation," replied Holmes. "It is a pity that the security methods of the Birmingham and Northern were not planned as carefully as the robbery."
"Had they been, I would not be here," stated the banker laconically.
Holmes shook his head. "I fear your visit, as welcome as it is, has been for naught."
"We must talk of that."
"To no avail," said Holmes, and there was a note of finality in his voice. "You stated that you had heard of our encounter"—his eyes flashed to me for a brief moment—"with Alvidon Daniel Chasseur of the B & N. As a result of it, I vowed to have nothing to do with his stolen bullion."
"It's not really his problem," stated Frisbee. "Or his bullion either. Chasseur took on this gold transfer with an eye to future business. Shipments of special cargo. That's a nautical expression, but it has come to have meaning with land transportation as well. If the thing had worked smoothly, his armored-train idea might have caught on in other fields. However, that much gold in one place incurred a risk, so he took a policy on the shipment with our Inter-Ocean insurance division. If the gold isn't recovered, we stand to lose half a million pounds, the face value of our short-term coverage."
Holmes' manner had changed with Frisbee's words, but he stood by his guns, albeit in a less dogmatic manner.
"An investigation would involve my coming in contact with that man again . . ."
"Holmes, if we have to remit the insurance money, Chasseur's only problem is loss of face for having the bullion spirited out from under him. This matter has all the elements that I know you love so well. Take that Herefordshire banker Trelawney, for instance."
"Ezariah Trelawney?" exclaimed Holmes with a lightning glance in my direction. "What has he to do with it?"
"Trelawney arranged the consortium of west coast banks that provided the gold in the first place. Murdered, you know."
"We certainly do," I said forcefully.
Frisbee registered surprise at my vehemence but shrewdly sensed that the wind had shifted and held his silence.
Holmes had risen again and unconsciously retrieved his cherrywood. Chewing on its stem, he stared into space for a moment before returning his intense gaze to Frisbee. "Sometimes fate steps in," he stated. "All right, I'll take on the bullion case on behalf of Inter-Ocean Trust."
Chapter 5
The Armored Train
ONCE MY FRIEND had committed himself, Claymore Frisbee hastened proceedings by the simple method of saying yes to everything. He seemed plagued by the fear that the great sleuth might change his mind. I could have reassured him on that point, for when Holmes decided on a course of action, he stuck to it with the tenacity of the English bulldog. The banker agreed to arrange an appointment with Richard Ledger, the B & N head of security, and while Holmes was gazing out the bow window considering other necessary lines of investigation, Frisbee handed me an unmarked envelope that had to be a pre-prepared persuasion ploy.
I could guess what it contained. Holmes' habitual reserve was most apparent in his reluctance to consider or discuss money, an enduring neurosis of the English upper middle class. Frisbee, who knew his man, had written a generous check for expenses to nail down the detective's involvement in the bullion problem. Regardless of his motive, I mentally thanked the banker, for this case gave indications of a widespread search and Holmes was sure to involve what his brother, Mycroft, referred to as the "ragtag army" at his command. When deputizing the shadowland group he used, Holmes seemingly gave no thought to expenditures. However, his methods were not as Croesus like as might seem at first sight. The most precious commodity in the sleuth's opinion was time. "Who can place a price, Watson, on an hour?" he was wont to ask on occasion, and I must admit that my native frugality could find no response to this.
After the departure of Claymore Frisbee, Holmes was at the desk, a sheaf of foolscap at his elbow and a quill pen in his hand. I knew that Billy would be summoned shortly and dispatched to the cable office with communiqués, and throughout London, and in other places as well, the machinery of the great sleuth would grind into action.
Prior to dinner, he revealed some of the thoughts coursing through his superb mind. This delighted me, since it was not a customary procedure so early in the game. It crossed my mind that the bullion robbery being a major coup of the lawless, Holmes must have anticipated being drawn into it. Perhaps he was already more au courant with the matter than I had thought, and indeed, he might have made some plans as to his initial moves before the summons from the B & N Railroad or the entr
ance of the Inter-Ocean Trust upon the scene.
"Our first step, I fear, will be in a fruitless direction," he stated with a wry smile. "No matter, we must make it."
"Where is the gold?"
He threw me a surprised glance. "Quite right. The raison d'être of the robbery is no small matter, and one does not just toddle around town with that much precious metal in one's pocket. It has to be stored somewhere."
"Your thoughts being that the gold might guild the path to the culprits."
Again he registered faint surprise. "Right on, old chap. What other thoughts do you have in mind?"
It was my turn to be surprised. Usually Holmes revealed his ideas almost as though speaking to himself. My questions and comments were the rhythm background to his analytic violins, a leitmotif of the Holmes symphony. Now, with the baton thrust into my hand, I was at a momentary loss but determined to wave it in some direction if only to make my presence known.
"We are not wanting for a motive," I said. "Greed inspired by the rare substance that has driven men to desperate deeds throughout history."
"Or need," responded Holmes dreamily. "A beggar might purloin a shilling for fish and chips and a night's lodging, whereas one higher on the social ladder, beset by obligations he cannot meet, risks disgrace for a greater sum."
"The motive being the same despite the difference in the value of the stolen object," I echoed.
"Exactly. Please continue, Watson."
Drat it, I thought. The ball is back in my court.
"You mentioned, Holmes, how well the robbery had been planned. Does that not indicate a knowledge of the terrain and of railway procedure?"
"A shrewd thrust, that last part."
"Not too revealing, however. Any number of people could have a working knowledge of the B & N."
"'Twould not suffice. It was a special train that was attacked and it ran on a schedule created for it. Normal procedure had little to do with the bullion carrier."