‘But what of “The Dying Gaul”?!’ Gialli exclaimed, aghast.
‘I have no means of knowing its exact location within the building.’ Holmes admitted casually. ‘So, short of pulling up every marble slab in the museum, I suggest, Inspector, that you mount a most vigilant, yet discreet, twenty-four hour guard. Rest assured, the gang will return soon enough and unwittingly do the hard work for us. Come Watson!’
Gialli shot me a parting glance of despair, but I had no answer for him and was merely carried along by Holmes’s irresistible wash. I was partly surprised and resentful at leaving the scene of the crime when a satisfactory conclusion was so nearly in our grasp. Yet I was equally glad that Holmes shared my need for food and rest, and I was determined to seize this opportunity.
This I surely did, and apart from a brief awakening in the early evening during which time I took a light supper in my room, I slept straight through till eleven o’clock the following morning. Despite the stimulation, provided by the events of the previous day, mine had been a deep, dreamless sleep and I awoke fully refreshed and more than a little ready for my breakfast.
With this in mind, I hastened to my friend’s room only to find, upon enquiring in the lobby, that he had gone out earlier after taking directions to the Roman Forum. It seemed that the allure of ancient Rome was too strong even for Sherlock Holmes to resist. I breakfasted alone, therefore, and it was not until mid-afternoon that Holmes finally returned from his excursion. He appeared to be surprisingly drawn and exhausted. In contrast to my own rejuvenated demeanour and in answer to my look of concern and sympathy he replied:
‘This interminable waiting is considerably more taxing than any form of vigorous activity. If I see one more broken column, or ancient stone I shall surely despair! I take it no word has come as yet from Gialli. Tut, tut, I thought as much. I think that I shall smoke in my room for a while. Perhaps Gialli will make some progress this afternoon.’ Before I had the chance to utter even a single word of response, Holmes was gone!
As it transpired, Holmes’s estimate of the time required for Gialli’s inquiries to yield success proved to be optimistic in the extreme. An afternoon turned into a day and then two and all the while Holmes became more agitated and his excursions, from the hotel, more seldom. He remained in his room for the most part, smoking incessantly and only occasionally did he take advantage of the excellent cuisine provided by our hotel’s dining-room.
During the long agonising wait, I spent much of my time in marvelling at the splendour of St Peter’s or lost in wonder at the awesome Colosseum. Yet always, upon my return to the hotel, I was confronted by the sight of my poor friend’s continued frustration and progressive dissipation. My concern for Holmes was on the point of becoming despair, when we were awoken at dawn the following morning, with news from Gialli at the museum.
Gialli had not come to the hotel to meet us, preferring, most commendably, to remain on site and organise the initial inquiries. However, the messenger he had despatched with our carriage carried a brief note which informed us of an attempted breach of security at the museum in the early hours of the morning. When I conveyed this information to Holmes who was, inevitably, smoking in his room, the change that came over him was as startling as it was immediate. By the time that he had joined me in the waiting landau outside, the transformation was complete. He even proffered me a jovial slap on the shoulders as he sprang into the carriage.
The driver was obviously under instructions from Gialli, for he moved off and made directly for the Capitoline without any prompting from us.
‘Watson,’ Holmes began excitedly. ‘Perhaps the game is not yet lost! If my surmise is correct and Gialli has followed my instructions exactly, I am sure we shall discover our elusive guards under close arrest upon our arrival at the museum.’
Sure enough, when Gialli greeted us at the base of the Capitoline steps there was a faint red tint of pleasure and excitement upon his round cheeks. He was, without doubt, in awe of his English confederate and greeted Holmes with a pronounced bow. Characteristically, Holmes dismissed this with a casual wave of the hand, immediately demanding information as he sprang down from the carriage.
Gialli shook Holmes warmly by the hand: ‘I congratulate you, Signor Holmes. The initial testimony of our two prisoners has confirmed each one of your deductions. Every honour that is in the power of the city of Rome to bestow, now awaits you!’ Then, observing how unimpressed Holmes was by this proclamation, Gialli hurriedly continued. ‘Unfortunately there is still no news, nor information that can shed any light on the whereabouts of your professor, however the facts are these.’ While Gialli was speaking we had begun the long climb up the steps to the Capitol.
‘Acting upon your most excellent advice, I have left in place a rigid, though discreet, guard of my finest men at the museum, every night since your examination. This morning, at exactly four o’clock, my men were alerted to the sounds of a forced entry. Upon my instruction, they took great care not to confront the intruders, instead taking to pre-arranged places of concealment, in order to observe developments.
‘These quickly followed. The intruders, swiftly and silently removed the plinth vacated by “The Dying Gaul” and then prised out the marble slab that had supported it. This revealed a shallow, but precisely cut hollow in which the missing statue has lain unharmed all this time!
‘My men were on the intruders in an instant. Being out-numbered by a ratio of three to one, the intruders soon recognised the hopelessness of their situation, gave up the struggle and succumbed to their arrest.
‘By the time I had responded to my summons and arrived at the museum, the thieves had sunk into a most melancholy mood, no doubt induced by their dread of impending imprisonment. However various promises I made to them of assistance at their trial, should they co-operate, soon helped me extricate the missing details from their cowardly tongues.’ Gialli triumphantly concluded.
‘Inspector Gialli, you and your men have performed most admirably from first to last! However, if I might crave your indulgence for just a moment or two, I think that I might be able to pre-empt those missing details?’ Holmes requested.
Gialli gladly nodded his assent.
‘After all,’ Holmes began. ‘The majority of the facts are already in our possession. The visitor with the brain-fever was, undoubtedly, a confederate of the masquerading guards and it was he, with one other, who concealed the statue beneath the plinth while the other personnel were being lured to the Bust Room and beyond. During the ensuing confusion they would have all fled the building through the side exit, in the manner we discovered the other day. Obviously they expected us to believe that “The Dying Gaul” went with them.’
‘A most ingenious plan and one which surely would have succeeded, but for your astute foresight and intervention, Signor Holmes,’ Gialli enthusiastically rejoined. ‘The City of Rome owes you a huge debt, Signor Holmes.’
‘Gratifying though your relief at the statue’s recovery surely is, the more so, for the apprehension of the culprits, my own overriding interest really resides with the location and destruction of their far more important and dangerous employer. Therefore, I should be glad if you would perform for me one last service as interpreter.’ Holmes asked of Gialli as we entered the Capitoline.
Upon entering the First Room once more, we could see “The Dying Gaul” being returned to its original resting-place and immediately I could see why its supposed theft had led to such furore. I am sure that there can be no finer example of the sculptor’s art in existence and I was immediately struck by the effect of animation the artist had imbued into his stone. The subject was undoubtedly a fallen barbarian warrior and yet the sculptor had surely been sympathetic towards his subject, for, though the face conveyed much pain and suffering, there was a certain noble defiance depicted also.
The raucous wailing of the two prisoners huddled on the floor in a corner surrounded by policemen, jolted me from my contemplation and Gialli led us over to
them so that Holmes could begin his interviews.
The two rogues were most singular, by virtue of their contrasting appearance. The one responsible for that awful wailing certainly belied his striking visual impact, being tall, muscular and blond. Indeed his stone effigy would not have been out of place within our present surroundings. His partner, however, was dark of skin, swarthy of complexion and he sat in a morose silence, sporting at the least, two days’ facial hair.
His noisy companion seemed the more likely to be forthcoming with information, so, not surprisingly, Holmes turned his immediate attention to him. Initially no doubt, to put him at ease, Holmes asked him the most mundane, yet personal questions; such as his place of birth and his age. He was from Naples and he was just twenty three years old. Gialli clearly approved of Holmes’s questioning technique, and he enthusiastically translated his every word, once the parrying was concluded and Holmes prepared his final thrust.
‘Do hardship and poverty alone, justify your breaking of the law?’ Holmes asked forcibly.
After much hesitation, Gialli finally extracted and communicated the blond prisoner’s reply:
‘I suppose it does not. Please, you must understand, the Doctor promised us much and vowed to protect us from the powers of the law!’ The prisoner was clearly greatly agitated and Holmes’s expression suddenly intensified at these last words. I could well understand why for one of the features of Moriarty’s control of the underworld had been his vow and ability to protect his minions from punishment.
In more strident tones, Holmes asked his next question: ‘“The Doctor?!” What Doctor is this? Is he your employer and benefactor?’
While the hapless blond was debating as to how best to answer, his companion suddenly threw off his cloak of indifference and attempted to silence him in a most animated fashion. However, his efforts were in vain. Holmes clearly had his colleague under his influence and the fellow seemed more taken by the idea of our assistance at his trial, than he was afraid of retribution from his ‘Doctor’.
‘I refer to the notorious Doctor Meyer, of Vienna, a most ingenious but dangerous man.’ He nervously replied.
‘Is he here in Rome, now?’ Holmes next asked.
‘No Signor. He keeps a small estate close to the ruins of Hadrian’s villa, at Tivoli.’ The man replied, clearly warming to his task.
‘Describe Doctor Meyer to us, as fully as you can.’ Holmes requested, now in a state of great excitement. He lit a cigarette while awaiting the prisoner’s next reply. This was some while in coming, for the swarthy fellow was now babbling loudly, as one in fear of his very life, was eventually forcibly removed to enable us to continue. Gialli too, showed signs of impatience as he began to translate the laborious description. Finally we had a complete picture of the ‘Doctor’s’ appearance and Gialli immediately arranged a landau for our journey to Tivoli.
Within moments we were hurtling along the streets of Rome, towards its northern suburbs, at break-neck speed. Despite our velocity, it promised to be a long journey, so I took this opportunity to read aloud the notes I had taken of Doctor Meyer’s description, more for Holmes’s benefit than Gialli’s or my own. The words are my own precis, not those of our incoherent Neapolitan prisoner.
‘Doctor Meyer is a very tall man, slim of build though encumbered with unusually rounded shoulders and a pronounced stoop to his back. His features, although partially obscured by an untidy grey beard, are sharp and lean. His lips are thin and his strange, penetrating eyes betray not a hint of the kindness one would normally expect to see in those of a man of medicine. His forehead positively protrudes with the great size of his brain and his head constantly oscillates from side to side, very much like that of a lizard. He is most awesome to behold.’ The prisoner’s statement concluded.
At these words, Holmes slapped his knee, with the palm of his hand, and turned excitedly towards me.
‘I tell you Watson, take away the beard and we have our man! If our arrival at Tivoli is well timed, I may yet lay the ghost of my costly error of seven years’ ago.’ Holmes returned to the window, urging the driver to ever greater speeds. It seemed to me, however, that any further increase in our pace would shake our vehicle to its very frame. Gialli evidently shared my sentiment, for his tiny moustache was constantly twitching and his grip on the handle on the door was turning his knuckles white.
At last, once we began to slow, I could see in the near distance the remarkably well preserved remains of Hadrian’s spectacular villa through our carriage window and, shortly afterwards, we turned into a long, Cypress-lined driveway.
At the end of the drive, we pulled up outside a building that was disappointingly modest, the more so when compared to its illustrious, ancient neighbour. The house was small and square, plain in design and white in colour. Its only allusion to the classical tradition being two undecorated pillars that flanked the main entrance.
The grounds were sadly neglected, the decor badly decayed and the pervading mood of the place was reflected in Holmes’s crestfallen demeanour. It was now obvious that the place was unoccupied. A thorough search of each and every room confirmed this. Nobody, not even a groundsman, remained to inform us of the former occupant’s current whereabouts. Our inquiries, at the local village and its railway station bore equally little fruit.
Holmes was clearly distraught and exclaimed: ‘I have been a slow, dull-witted fool, Watson! As a consequence the most dangerous criminal mastermind of his age, is free to ply his evil trade once again! I suppose any small consolation I might extract from my failure, is that we have thwarted him, at least on this occasion and cleansed the city of Rome of his odious stench.’
‘You have done more than any other man could possibly have achieved.’ I ventured, by way of consolation. Gialli went further by offering him a large civic reception, a handsome reward and the city’s highest honours. Typically, Holmes politely declined the reception, but his graciousness would not allow him to deal likewise with the medal of honour. Surprisingly, considering their many stark contrasts, Holmes and Gialli had built a strong bond of mutual respect and upon our final departure, theirs was a heart-felt farewell, during which Gialli vowed to inform us of any future incursion on his jurisdiction by Moriarty or his men.
Our journey home seemed slow and ponderous in comparison to our frantic outward dash. This had been so full of the anticipation of adventure and potentially a final confrontation with Holmes’s nemesis. However, despite the anticlimactic cloud, that hung over us both, Holmes did make some attempt at engaging conversation and I admired him for that.
However, we both knew that Moriarty’s latest defeat at our hands would undoubtedly spur him to future vengeance, the nature and timing of which, we could only speculate on.
Copyright
© Paul D. Gilbert 2007
First published in Great Britain 2007
This edition 2012
ISBN978 0 7198 0534 9 (epub)
ISBN978 0 7198 0535 6 (mobi)
ISBN978 0 7090 0536 3 (pdf)
ISBN978 0 7090 8249 1 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of Paul D. Gilbert to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
The Lost Files of Sherlock Holmes Page 19