‘Most interesting,’ said Irene, ‘go on please.’
‘Aye, it were in their ’Orsham estate where they often came for a week-end. I was a good thirty yards from them, and I could not help hearing what they was saying. I am not a natural eavesdropper, but I was so stunned by what I urd that I froze in my tracks. I was behind the big oak and thought I might as well not make my presence known. They were talking about Lady Sofia’s inheritance. Sir Harrison was very angry because Lady Sofia’s stepbrother Mr Beauregard was the chief beneficiary of the Blagonard fortune (made from the lucrative slave-trade), with Lady Sofia expecting only a pittance. I wanted to hear more, but the ice-cream was melting, and I did not want to be at the receiving end of the master’s anger.’
‘Go on.’
‘I had made the ice-cream myself with the machine, but I had not put enough salt in the ice, so it was not properly frozen,’ he explained.
‘Was that all you heard?’
‘That day, yes.’
‘Did you hear more later?’
‘Yes. Having accidentally eavesdropped upon them that once, now, whenever I saw them talking, I could not help myself. I opened my ears wide, and after what I heard on several occasions, I gathered that Lady Sofia was not on speaking terms with her brother.’
‘You mean step-brother?’
‘Aye. Step-brother. I heard the master saying that they had to do something about this. I heard him say very clearly, “We must begin by mending our fences.” ’
‘And did they?’
‘Yes, for within a week Mr Beauregard started showing himself at the ’Orsham estate. Then Sir Harrison and ’im they started going on hunts together.’
‘In St Leonard Forest?’
‘Yes your honour.’
‘What did they hunt? Rabbits?’
‘Aye your honour, rabbits mainly, but sometimes there’s deer. And the master knew where to find them.’
‘Continue pleeze.’
‘My job was to get the horses ready, make sure that the Thermos flasks were filled with piping hot tea and that kitchen had prepared pies and sandwiches and the like, but I had never been anywhere near the hunting grounds, until...’ He looked at Armande but could not continue.
‘Unteel?’
‘Well, I was surprised when one morning I noticed that the couple both had working clothes on, dungarees and loose shirts. Then the master told me to get a couple of spades and pick-axes and to jump on one of the work horses and follow him and Miss Sofia.’
‘To St Leonard’s?’
‘Aye. We stopped at a clearing next to a ridge. I saw four sticks in the ground in one place, enclosing a six yard by ten yard square.’
‘It can’t have been a square then,’ Algie said, which left the witness speechless for a few seconds.
‘But it was,’ he insisted finally.
‘What your defence counsel mins iz zat if it woz six yards by ten yards, it would be a oblong and not a square.’
‘Isn’t an oblong the same as a square then?’ asked the bemused odd-job man.
‘Take it from me,’ urged Irene, ‘an oblong may be called a rectangle, but to be a square the two sides must be the same.’
‘Well,’ Cyril said, still unconvinced. There was two opposite sides wot was six yards and two sides wot was ten yards.’ This seemingly pointless clarification went on until either Cyril understood or, more likely decided to pretend that he had.
‘He instructed me to take the pick-axe and start digging,’ he continued.
‘Did they say, or did you ask what was it for?’ asked the judge. He knew exactly how Cyril was going to reply.
‘The master does not need to explain his orders to a servant, and...’ Yes, yes, and it’s not for servants to question their lords and masters.
‘Then, to my amazement,’ Roper continued, ‘both Sir Harrison and Lady Sofia joined me, and together, working in silence, we dug the earth out, to a depth of about one yard near the edges, increasing to twice that nearer the middle. We worked until sunset, only stopping to eat sandwiches and drink tea.’
‘Anysing else? Address the judge.’ Cyril cleared his throat, but had to be prompted before continuing.
‘I didn’t say nothing myself, your honour. I am a servant, I am paid to do as I am told, not to ask questions.’
‘Yes, so you’ve explained.’
‘The master sir, he seized me by the collar quite violently. I was taken aback. Cyril, he said, eh, I mean, John Smith, he said, if you mention this to anybody, I will personally shoot you like a dog, d’you hear?’
‘Where was Lady Sofia?’
‘She was near us. She laughed and shook her head. ’Arrison, he said, that’s not the way to do things. I will deal with this.’
‘And ’ow did she dill wiz eet?’
‘She asked her husband to leave us alone and shrugging he turned his back to us and went for a walk.’ Irene cast a glance at the accused and found his face blank and expressionless.
‘When he was out of earshot, she asked me, Do you find me attractive?’
‘Did you?’
‘Why ma’am, I have never seen anybody prettier in my life.’ I suppose including me?
‘Why did she ask you that?’
‘Cyril, she said, I think you’re a handsome devil too. I am offering you a bargain.’ The whole audience buzzed like a swarm of bees on hearing this.
‘And wat was ze bargain?’ Roper reddened and remained silent. It was only after being pressed that he looked at the floor and spoke.
‘If you swear that you will never talk about this pit we dug, you can make love to me. Tomorrow afternoon. Does that suit you?’
‘And did it suit you? I min did you visit the lady in ’er bedroom?’
‘No, ma’am, I did not.’
‘So there was no bargain?’ asked Irene. Cyril smiled slyly.
‘She came to the stable. Said she always wanted to … begging the court’s pardon …’ave it off in the ’ay.’ At that point, Algernon, the defence attorney sprang up and challenged Cyril.
‘Mr Smith, I take it that you gave your word, so what are you doing here, breaking your promise?’ Cyril nodded dubiously and did not answer immediately.
‘I agreed on insufficient grounds, sir. What I agreed not to speak about, was our digging a big ’ole. What I’m now telling you, is ’ow Mr Beauregard was killed … was murdered … sir. I have come to the conclusion that these two matters are not the same, and feel I am no longer bound by my undertaking. Naturally if it were only abaht the pit, I’d have kept my word.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Algernon, ‘you said you no longer felt bound by your oath, why didn’t you report the murder?’ At this point, Irene intervened.
‘I think before we continue, the Court needs to hear about the murder. Mr Smith, can you help us?’
‘No,’ was the curt answer. At this point, Armande intervened.
‘Misteur Ssmiss did not witness the killing, so I will quote from Police records if I may.’
‘Please do so, learned counsel,’ Irene said, at which the prosecutor produced a sheet of paper and read from it.
The facts described in the police records were incomplete and some downright false, but we did a thorough investigation. Here are the real facts of the case: On that fateful morning, Sir Harrison, his wife Lady Sofia and her step-brother Beauregard planned to go on a deer hunt in St Leonard Forest. They left their Horsham manor at first light. Unbeknown to the visitor, the step-brother’s marmalade had been spiked with cocaine. As is known, this causes an initial rush of energy but dims judgement.
Harmiston and his wife knew that her brother had taken a fancy to Hercules, so he too had been given a stimulant. In the state Beauregard was in, he felt that he could do anything, including make the stallion fly, and the couple encouraged him in this belief. Besides, they added some mild taunting.
‘I do believe that if I wanted to, I could get Hercules to fly, watch me.’
‘Beau,’ Sofia warned him, ‘don’t do anything reckless, you seem light-headed.’ She knew that this admonishment would produce a contrary effect. They were now approaching the ridge where the grave was waiting for its dead.
‘Take it easy, Beau... don’t do anything rash...’
Everything happened exactly as the couple had planned. Beauregard arriving at the ridge thought that all he needed to do was to prod the flank of the mount with his stirrup and pull on the reins, willing the horse to “fly”. Neither poor Hercules who was also not at his best, nor the drugged man had any idea how to cope with this sudden drop. ‘Watch me dear sister,’ were the last word he said. If the fall did not break his neck, Harrison had planned to shoot his man, with the credible claim that the gun had gone off by itself during the fall, but this proved unnecessary. Beauregard had broken his neck, and Hercules his tibia. Harmiston put the poor nag out of his misery and sighed about collateral damage being inevitable in any campaign.
‘Why,’ Algernon pressed on, ‘did you not go to the police after the death?’ Cyril was unable to repress a little cynical laugh.
‘Do you know what happens in our country when a little man testifies against a powerful one?’
‘In this court, a question cannot be answered by another question.’
‘Come off it, Smith, this is Great Britain, not the Continent, not South America.’
‘Come off it yourself, Counsel, Smiss ’ould almoss ceurtainly ’ave bin locked eup ’imself.’
‘Be that as it may,’ intervened Irene, the fact is that he did not. But why did you agree to appear in our Court of Human Decency?’ Cyril smiled, no doubt remembering the lovely time he had with the lady judge.
‘I was assured of the court’s protection.’
‘Pliz elaboret.’
‘I was assured that after the trial, the accused would be in no position to exact revenge.’
It was at this point that Sherlock Holmes experienced a twinge in his stomach and a bitter taste in his mouth. Does that wretched woman really mean to take the law in her own hands? Do these deranged people mean to carry out a hanging in their back garden? He had not the least doubt about Harmiston being guilty of that murder as well as of a number of other crimes, and deserved hanging, but he was convinced that Irene and her Club would be equally guilty if they passed and carried out the ultimate sentence. She had to be stopped. He would stop her himself. Albeit regretfully.
The case soon finished, and as expected, the accused was found guilty. Irene then stated that sentence would be passed next day and carried out immediately.
Before he left the premises, Holmes went into the garden shed which he had made his H.Q., wrote a letter, then surreptitiously he re-entered the house and placed it on the mantelpiece in the court room. He then left for Baker Street. The letter was not found until a week later.
Miss Adler,
I am deeply concerned about the events of the past few days, and must demand that you present all the facts accrued in your simulacrum of a trial to the Attorney General, albeit anonymously. You are not empowered to dispense justice, and are in fact breaking the law already. Should you do as I suggest, I will not reveal what I know about the events of the last few days.
Should you harm Harmiston in anyway, I shall feel obliged to go to the Scotland Yard and inform Lestrade about everything I know, including the address of where to find you and your deluded accomplices.
Sincerely
S. Holmes.
The court had to pass sentence on what was tantamount to three guilty verdicts of murder. Next morning, it re-assembled as before minus the illustrious Mr Holmes, whose absence went unnoticed. Irene called the court to order and went straight to the point.
‘Sir Harrison Belvedere Harmiston, you have been given a fair trial throughout and have been found guilty on all three counts. Have you anything to say before I pass judgement?’
‘I do not recognise your right to judge anybody, but if you do hang me, as I think you mean to, will you bury me in that grave I dug, and let the world believe that I vanished from the face of the earth.’
‘Thank you. Here is the sentence I am empowered by the Court of Human Decency to pass upon you: Harrison Belvedere Harmiston, you are sentenced to be taken from here to a place in Hanover Square at midnight tomorrow, and shall be released, on one condition: to wit, that within a period of twelve hours hereafter, you shall invite your colleagues to Committee Room 14 and read the statement that we have prepared for you, and which I shall now read: Being an individual of little merit, and having been guilty of many reprehensible crimes in my life, I hereby resign my parliamentary seat and give up my ludicrous claims to the leadership of the Conservative Party.’
‘No, I can never do that. My life would have no sense. What’s to stop me to go to my home and then ignore your instructions?’ He hesitated before adding, ‘And arrange to get you arrested and tried in a real court of justice.’
‘Whilst you have no idea where we live, our people know exactly where to find you, and have lost none of their ability for repeating the action to which they submitted you, for a second time.’ Harmiston gave out a mocking laugh. An uneasy silence followed.
The silence in court was absolute until Irene spoke again.
‘And rest assured, next time round, there will be no trial. We will fill you with whisky and laudanum, dress you up and paint your face to look like a clown before releasing you outside the House of Parliament in broad daylight. You understand that in our country, once people have laughed at you, there is no comeback. You will have no credibility left, and even if you don’t resign, they will consign you to the dustbins of history.’
II
Enterprise
Algernon Clarihoe always felt uneasy at the Cumberland. The only reason he was there that morning was that his father, Lord Bickeringstone expected him to have lunch with him once a month, and he had been asked to meet him there. Tacitly, this was a condition imposed by the old man for the unblocking of the monthly stipend to his son. A miserly hand-out, if the wealth of the old man was taken into account, but quite adequate to the man who was not much given to extravagance. He was in the Blue Sitting Room sipping a small port while waiting for his lordship, who made it a point of honour to keep his son waiting. He did not particularly like port, but had ordered it without thinking. He did not particularly like the Cumberland either, but it was Pater’s home from home. As gentlemen clubs went, he only felt at ease at the Patroclus, with its exclusive Uranian membership.
To pass the time, he started watching a strangely attired guest seated at the other end of the room, who had cast a suspicious eye upon him as he came in, who was also nursing a drink, in his case a double Scotch.
He guessed him to be American for a number of reasons. He had the sort of tan that is only acquired after working hours out in the sun. His black hair was shining with hair cream. He had a bright orange cravat which no Englishman would be seen dead with, but it was the striking cowboy boots which really gave him away. He too seemed to be waiting for someone.
The reader needs to be reminded (told if he or she is unfamiliar with the denizens of Water Lane) of just one of the many accomplishments of Algernon and his friends of the Club des As. Others might be revealed when the necessity arises, for the good flow of the narration: The capacity to eavesdrop on the conversation of parties of interest, from a distance, by reading the movements of their lips as they spoke. It was not a discipline that they had learnt from books or monographs, for there was none. Miss Adler who had mooted the notion and indeed laid the foundation of the study had vague plans for writing a monograph on the topic one day. It was something which might prove useful when communicating with deaf people. Together they had discussed its many facets, and devised and perfected the techniques. They had spent many a night playing the Lip-reading game, whereby one of their numbers sat at one end of their Salle de Jeu, as Armande called the games room, a good twenty yards away, reading or reciting a known piece
, usually poetry, sotto voce, while the others seated opposite at a distance, tried to identify it. Now, after much practice, they found it easy to follow the conversation of people at the opposite end of the room, provided their mouths were in the line of vision. With the help of binoculars the secrets of people much further away were no longer safe with them. The reader might not approve of this unethical practice, but first, the Club acknowledged that they were not saints, and secondly could rightly claim that they never (or hardly ever) used this weapon wantonly.
When Algie saw the swarthy man with bushy eyebrows coming in, he immediately recognised him as Lord Maldicott. He opened wide his arms when he saw the American and directed his steps towards him. Clarihoe thought that he would have a little bit of fun at their expense. He knew Maldicott for having met him a year or two ago, although he did not expect him to remember who he was. The man was known to be a gambler, a peculator, a drunk and something of a sex addict. It seems that he had been scarred by a ruffian he had insulted once, but Algie had never seen the man at close enough range, to see the mark for himself. Worse, rumours had it that he was in the habit of accosting very young girls in the Soho and asking them if they had hairs on their cunts, before whisking them away to some hotel in a dark alley for the night. It was of course illegal to go with girls younger than twelve, but no one made any serious effort to stop this law being abused. The Force, under the leadership of Commissioner Douglas Labalmondière, seemingly had one priority: protect the rich and powerful to whom he owed his position, from any embarrassment.
‘Hiram J. Bleek Junior,’ the American said as he extended a hand to his arriving lordship. ‘Bleek with 2 e’s. Entreprenure (sic) and philanthropist.’ Algie marvelled at the ease with which he was able to identify these words.
‘Sir Toby Agincourt Fesserby, third Earl of Maldicott, but call me Lord Maldicott.’
Algie knew that his ancestor had not been with King Henry at Agincourt, as he liked to proclaim, but that his slave-trader grandfather had bought the Maldicott title and the seat when he found himself with more money than he could count- or account for. What was not in question was his immense fortune.
Sherlock Holmes Vs Irene Adler: A Duel of Wits (The Irene Adler Series Book 4) Page 5