by Ashton, Hugh
“ Thank you. I believe that is all I wish to see here at present. May we return to your room, Mr. Pillstone ? ”
“ Certainly. Maybe this time it would amuse you to take the more usual route through the galleries ? ”
“ That would be most pleasant,” Holmes agreed. As he turned to leave, somehow the skirts of his coat managed to catch against the velvet on which the cameos reposed in the cabinet, which had not yet been closed and secured. With a clatter, they fell to the ground, rolling in all directions. Holmes apologised, and bent to pick up the results of his carelessness, but he was forestalled by McCoy, who protested that he would restore order, and would join us directly that was accomplished.
As soon as we had left the gallery, Holmes requested that we return to Pillstone’s office by the quickest possible route, declining the invitation to visit various exhibits which the curator felt might be of interest to us. On entering the office, Holmes immediately went to McCoy’s desk and dropped to the floor.
“ McCoy usually changes his boots for slippers ? ” he enquired, pointing to a handsome pair of boots on the floor beside the desk.
“ Yes. He took note of my habits and decided to follow my example. Not every day, but the majority of the time, except on days when we have visitors or must meet the public, of course.”
“ And yesterday ? ”
“ I cannot recall.”
“ Think, man, think ! ” Holmes seemed impatient.
“ Yes, I do remember now. He was wearing slippers all day.”
“ And did you leave the Museum before him last night.”
“ Why, yes, I did. He was working on some correspondence when I left him.”
“ Thank you. I apologise for my brusqueness just then. I believe I now have some more knowledge regarding the theft.”
“ And you can return the original cameos ? ”
Holmes shook his head. “ You may have to wait a little time, I fear, before that happy event transpires,” he said. “ But have patience. I know I am on the right track.”
Naturally, I was fascinated by his words, and wanted to know more about what he had discovered, but knew him well enough to hold my peace. We were joined by McCoy, who reported to Pillstone that all the replacement cameos were now returned to their place, news which was received in silence by the curator.
“ We must return now, Watson,” Holmes said to me, extending his hand to Pillstone in farewell before repeating the action with McCoy. As he shook hands with the latter, he looked into the other’s eyes, and I could not help but observe what appeared to be a look of fear pass across McCoy’s face.
zz
As was frequently the case after Sherlock Holmes had been investigating a crime, he would say nothing to me for the space of at least an hour, during which we returned to Baker-street by cab. Holmes’ cough, which was to my mind the result of his exertions earlier that day, continued to worsen, but I held my peace, knowing from experience that he strongly disliked being reminded of any infirmity that might be troubling him.
Twice he took up his pipe, and twice cast it down unlit, seemingly mindful of the discomfort that smoking would cause him, given his current state of health. At length, he spoke to me.
“ Now we know the identity of the thief, we must find the cameos.”
“ You know who took the gems ? ”
Holmes shook his head. “ Surely it is obvious, even to you, Watson ? Consider the evidence that has come before our eyes. No ? In that case I will explain all later.”
I was somewhat nettled by his superior attitude, but held my peace. “ But surely the thief will have them at his house ? ”
Holmes shook his head. “ No, I fear not. If the cameos had simply vanished and not been replaced, I would agree with you. But the replacements have their own significance.”
“ And what may that be ? ”
“ Reflect on all those public figures whose images they bear. Of different political parties, maybe, but what binds them all together ? ” I was unable to answer the question immediately. “ I will tell you,” he continued, impatiently. “ It is their support, to a greater or less degree, for Home Rule. One point in particular struck me. Are you familiar with the Leonardo painting to which Pillstone referred ? ” I shook my head. “ The position of Judas Iscariot is that of the fourth from the left. The politician whose caricature occupied that position is Lord D_____.”
“ Who recently announced his support for Home Rule after being staunchly against the idea for so long ! ”
“ Indeed. A malign sense of humour has cast him as Judas. But my point is that these cameos, I am sure, are the work of an organisation, not of one man. McCoy, having purloined the cameos, immediately disposed of them to a confederate. Of that, I am convinced. We might search him, and every nook and cranny of his dwelling, and we would never discover them. Nor, if we arrested him and questioned him, would we ever learn the truth. It may well be that he is genuinely unaware of the identity of the minds who ultimately lie behind this act, for I cannot believe that he is acting alone in this matter, but has carried out this deed at the behest of a more prominent and powerful individual, possibly heading some sort of organisation that is opposed to Home Rule.”
“ And what, then,” I asked, “ is the end to all this ? ”
“ I fear that is a deep question that I am unable to answer fully at this time. Plainly, a certain amount of embarrassment is to be caused, to our nation as a whole, as well as to the worthy Pillstone. I do not think financial gain is a factor here. As we were told, the cameos are priceless, and the Holy See has no doubt long since renounced the concept of them as having any monetary value. Excepting a secret collector, who acquires works of art in order that he, and he alone, may feast his eyes on them, there would be no sale possible.”
“ Do such collectors exist outside the realm of legend ? ”
“ I agree that they are largely creations of the more sensational type of journalist, but I have heard that there are some such, chiefly outside this country.”
“ So you believe that the aim is to inconvenience the present government and the Vatican ? ” I asked.
“ To inconvenience them and embarrass them, yes. And, if I may hazard a guess, to drive a wedge between the Holy See and our Government such that Home Rule, which would undoubtedly strengthen the Roman Church in Ireland, would be removed from the Government’s agenda for some time to come. This has, I feel, gone beyond the realm of simple theft, and appears to be a matter for the authorities at a level above that of the police force.”
“ I take it you are referring to brother Mycroft ? ” I asked, referring to Sherlock Holmes’ older brother, whose influence in the corridors of power was not to be underestimated.
“ I have already consulted him briefly while you and Pillstone were travelling to the Museum.” Holmes’ manner was brusquer than was usual, but I ascribed that to the effects of his cold. He rose from his chair, and started to put on his overcoat and muffler. I rose with the intention of accompanying him. “ No, on this occasion, Watson, I do not wish you to be with me. Your presence is typically invaluable, I freely admit, but on this occasion, I prefer to be alone with my thoughts, wherever they may lead me.” So saying, he picked up his hat and donned a pair of gloves. “ I may be some time, Watson, and will make my own arrangements for dinner. You may choose to dine here or elsewhere.”
I was left alone in the rooms at Baker-street as the evening fell, and the lamps along the street were lit. Though Holmes had warned me that he would be late, I strained my ears expectantly for the sound of my friend’s foot on the stair. By midnight, he still had not returned, and I took myself to bed, confident that I would meet him at the breakfast table the next morning.
It was not to be. The morning dawned, as damp as the previous day, though the snow had ceased to fall, and there was no sign that Holmes had returned. His hat and coat were missing from their accustomed places on the rack, and when I knocked on his bed-room door and, receiv
ing no answer, opened the door and looked inside, I could see no evidence that he had returned. Though it was not altogether unknown for Holmes to spend all night away from our lodgings when he was engaged on a case, he would generally advise either myself or Mrs. Hudson of his intention to do so.
In addition, the cough from which he was suffering had sounded, to my medically trained ears, to be taking a turn for the worse, and I feared for his health in this inclement weather. When Mrs. Hudson brought the breakfast for two to our rooms, I realised it was superfluous to ask her if Sherlock Holmes had announced his proposed absence to her.
I ate my bacon and eggs in a thoughtful solitary silence, while perusing the morning papers. There appeared to be little of interest there, at least as Sherlock Holmes had taught me to interpret the phrase. There was, I was relieved to see, no report of the theft of the cameos or their replacement, but I assumed, that if Holmes’ guess was correct regarding the purpose of the abstraction to be embarrassment of the Roman Church and the British Government, that the thieves would lose little time in announcing the loss.
The hours passed slowly, and time hung heavy on my hands that morning. To say that I was concerned would be an understatement. It was at moments like this that the full depth of my friendship with Sherlock Holmes was apparent, and that the true nature of our companionship revealed itself to me.
By midday, it was hard for me to accept the fact that he was still absent with any kind of equanimity, and I determined to visit the Diogenes Club, despite what Sherlock Holmes had said earlier, in order to enquire of his brother Mycroft what might have become of him. Alas, my trip was in vain. It appeared that Mycroft Holmes had not been seen in the Club that day, and though the porter on duty was sympathetic, and recognised me from my previous visits there, he regretted that he was unable to inform me of Mycroft Holmes’ current whereabouts. I left a scribbled note addressed to him, asking for any information that he was willing or able to give me regarding the possible whereabouts of his brother, and left it with the porter.
In the usual run of things, I would have gone to the police and informed them of the fact that my friend was missing, but I did not do so, for two reasons. Firstly, Holmes had informed me that there might be confidential matters involved which were not to be bruited abroad. By informing the police of his disappearance, such information might be picked up by the wrong ears. Secondly, and I will admit that this carried more weight in my mind, I knew full well that Sherlock Holmes would have a deep-rooted objection to any police interference in an affair of this nature. I, as the instigator of such a situation, would undoubtedly be the target of his scorn and contempt, and I had no wish to assume such a role.
I read through the evening newspapers as dusk fell, conscious of the absence of my friend, and my seeming impotence. As the lamps were being lit, the page brought a message, enclosed in an envelope embossed with the name and device of the Diogenes Club. I ripped it open, and read, with some disappointment, the following words, written in a large sprawling hand.
“ Dear Doctor Watson,
“ I appreciate your concern, which I share, in the matter of the disappearance of my brother. Please believe me and accept my apologies when I tell you that I am unable to give you any further information as to his possible whereabouts. I assure you that I will let you have any information that I possess which I am able to share with you, as soon as such makes itself known to me.
“ Cordially yours,
“ Mycroft Holmes.”[1]
I need not add that this plunged me into some despair. It was hard for me to sit still in the rooms which reminded me so vividly of Sherlock Holmes’ presence, but it was impossible to conceive of leaving to take my meal at a restaurant, or to seek distraction in a music-hall performance or some such.
I had earlier determined not to seek solace in the whisky decanter, but even so, I poured myself a stiff peg before retiring, fancying it would help me sleep. In the event, I passed a troubled night, and arose while it was still dark, having been unable to rest comfortably. The next day and night, and the next, passed in the same way. There was no news of Holmes, and no word from the police, or from Mycroft, to whom I had sent another message addressed to his club, but from whom I had received no answer.
I took a little comfort from the fact that the police had not contacted me with the news that Holmes’ body had been discovered. If an accident had befallen him, I was sure that either Mycroft or I would have been informed. However, it was not likely that his absence was the result of an accident, but I had no idea of where to start a search. It seemed to me in my anxiety that Holmes, whether alive or dead, could be anywhere in all the vastness of London, or indeed, could be in any part of the country. It was not a comforting thought, and I went to bed that evening determined that on the next morning, no matter what the outcome might be, that I would set the police searching for Sherlock Holmes.
Dawn had broken on yet another morning, with the grey slush still covering much of the streets, by the time I had lit the fire, and when I had shaved and made my toilet, I felt ready for my breakfast, having been unable to eat heartily the previous evening, on account of my concern for my friend.
Mrs. Hudson, who from her face appeared to be almost as worried as I regarding Holmes’ disappearance, set a tray for one in front of me. I had just poured my coffee, and was about to take the first sip when the door opened, and Sherlock Holmes fairly tottered into the room.
I was amazed at the appearance of my friend. He was pale as death, and dark hollows surrounded his eyes. His forehead was decorated by a large gash, the blood from which was still dripping into his eyes, and there was a purple bruise upon his cheek. He was hatless, and his wet muddy coat was ripped in a number of places. In his hand he carried one half of the walking-stick with which he had left earlier.
“ My God, Holmes ! ” I cried. “ What has happened to you ? ”
“ Later, Watson, later,” he gasped, and coughed, hackingly. “ Thank God you are here. I feared you would be absent, searching for me, or engaged in some other similarly foolish endeavour.”
I rushed to his side, and assisted him to remove his coat before helping him into a chair by the fire, where he sat, his hands extended to the flames, as his whole body shivered.
“ You must change your garments soon,” I told him. “ And as your friend and as a doctor, I would advise you to retire to bed at the earliest possible opportunity.”
“ Is that coffee I smell ? ” he asked in return, a faint smile hovering about his lips.
“ It is, and you shall have it all,” I exclaimed, bringing him the cup from which I had been about to drink.
“ Ah,” he exclaimed, after having drained the cup. “ Another dose of the same, and I might begin to feel I was re-entering the land of the living.”
“ Allow me to dress your wound,” I requested. “ How did you come by it ? ”
“ I will tell you of all this later,” he told me in a very quiet, hoarse voice. “ For now I am very tired, and I wish to rest. But first, if you would, it would be a kindness if you would attend to my wound.”
As I bathed and dressed the cut on his forehead, it was apparent that it had been caused by the blow of some blunt instrument, but following Holmes’ instructions, I forbore to make further enquiries as to its origin. When I had completed my ministrations, I helped him to his feet and into his bed-room, where I put him to bed. He appeared to fall asleep almost immediately, but I was relieved to note that his breathing seemed easy and regular, though with obvious signs of the cold from which he was suffering. With as much delicacy as I could manage, I withdrew my stethoscope from my medical bag, and placed it against his chest, listening carefully. I was glad to note that there was no detectable congestion of the lungs.
As I emerged from the bed-room, Mrs. Hudson entered. “ Did I hear Mr. Holmes come in ? ” she asked. “ Can I get him some breakfast ? ”
I explained his situation to her, suggesting that she prepare a light re
past, suitable for an invalid, to be brought in a few hours, and she accepted this suggestion before making her way downstairs.
I propped open the door of Holmes’ bedroom, and resumed breaking my fast, with a better appetite now that I knew the whereabouts of my friend, though this was clouded by a natural concern for his well-being. I had picked up the Morning Post, and was scanning the agony column, when there was a clatter of boots on the stair.
Without any warning, the door crashed open, and three figures burst into the room. The largest of the men, who stood in front of the other two, was considerably taller than me, and would have presented a formidable figure even had he not been gripping a heavy stick in an aggressive manner. I noticed that a large bruise surrounded one eye, which was almost closed with the swelling, and that the knuckles of his right hand were bleeding. His two companions, though slightly smaller in stature, presented much the same sort of appearance, and likewise bore the marks of battle upon them.
“ Where is Holmes ? ” asked the leader, for such I took him to be.
“ That, sir, is none of your business,” I replied, laying down my newspaper, and standing to confront the man. “ May I ask what you want with him ? ”
“ I wish to repay a debt to him, and for him to repay a debt to us,” he snarled in surly tones. His two companions laughed unpleasantly at his words, in which I caught an echo of McCoy’s manner of speech.
“ Then I would suggest that you come back later, alone. It surely does not take three men to repay a debt ? ”
“ That depends on the manner and the nature of the debt, would you not say ? ”
“ I fail to take your meaning.”
“ Then let me make my meaning perfectly clear to you.” With these words, he brought his stick down smartly on the table where I had placed the coffee cup and saucer from which Holmes had drunk earlier, smashing the porcelain into a hundred pieces. “ Where is Holmes ? ” he roared in a voice like thunder, leaning forward and glowering into my face.
I confess that while I am as courageous as the next man, and have been under fire in a savage land facing my country’s enemies, this bully and his two accomplices frightened me. “ I cannot tell you,” I answered him, in as steady a voice as I could manage.