The Mammoth Book of the Lost Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes

by Denis O. Smith

  “Presently, the thin man consulted his watch again and, apparently having reached a decision, they left the room, without a word to me. A bolt was shot home on the other side of the door, and I heard their footsteps descending the stair. Unsteadily, I rose to my feet, tried the door, which was securely fastened, and made a circuit of the room. There was nothing to be seen there save the mouldering remains of a dead bird in the large, dusty fireplace. As I was regarding this dismal object, I caught the sound of voices in the distance, and what sounded like a brass band playing in the open air. I suppose these sounds had reached me down the wide chimney.

  “Curious as to where I might be, I tried to open the shutters. They were very stiff, and clearly had not been moved for many years, but after some effort I succeeded in lifting the bar and dragging one of them open. Imagine my dismay, then, to find that the window was boarded up on the outside. There were gaps between the boards, through which light streamed into the dusty room, but they were near the top of the tall window, and I could see nothing through them but the sky above.

  “Dejected, I sat back down and pondered my predicament. As to why these strangers should have abducted me and imprisoned me in this deserted house, I had no idea whatever. I am not a very wealthy man, so a ransom seemed out of the question. I could only conclude that they were proposing to rob me, although they had shown no inclination in that direction so far. Perhaps, I conjectured, they were awaiting instructions from their leader. For there was something in their manner which seemed to indicate that they were not acting entirely of their own volition.

  “As I was considering the matter in this way, I heard voices below and footsteps on the stairs. My captors were returning.”

  “How long had they been away?” interrupted Holmes.

  “No more than twenty minutes, I should say,” replied Townsend. “I quickly felt in my pockets. The only object of any value in my possession was my cigar case. It is gold-plated and has a diamond set in one corner. It was given to me by the family of my partner, Mr Zeffirelli, on the fifteenth anniversary of our partnership. These villains should not have that, at any rate! I took it from my pocket and quickly pushed it under a loose floorboard, for the footsteps were rapidly approaching the door of the room.

  “The bolt was pulled back, the door flung open, and in marched three people, the thin man with the dark moustache, the large, powerful-looking fellow and a third. It was the third that took my entire attention, which you will understand when I give you the details. For, to my very great surprise, the third of my captors was a woman, and one of the most handsome women I have ever seen in my life. She was wearing a long, dark, hooded cloak, which she held together at the front with her hands, as if she had thrown it on hastily. It was apparent, nevertheless, that her figure and carriage were the most graceful imaginable. Beneath the large hood, her features were very dainty, with a bloom upon her cheek that would have softened the heart of a brute.

  “She walked straight across the room and stared down at me for a moment. Something seemed to puzzle her and she shook her head slightly. As she did so, her hood slipped back from her forehead, and I saw that she was wearing a small crown or tiara upon her head. Then she turned away and spoke quickly and, it seemed to me, angrily, to her companions, in the same foreign tongue as they had used. The thin man answered her, and I surmised from the tone of his voice that he was excusing himself, or defending his actions. What it was all about, I could not imagine, but it was clear that there was some disagreement or misunderstanding between them. After a moment the big man joined in, in the same tone, then the thin man turned abruptly to me and addressed me in his own tongue. I shook my head and tried to explain that I did not understand, at which the big man stepped forward and raised his arm, as if to strike me, but the woman spoke sharply to him and he turned away.

  “‘What is your name?’ said the woman then to me, in English.

  “‘Townsend,’ I replied; ‘Godfrey Townsend.’

  “At this, the big man raised his arm again, a look of great ferocity upon his face; but it was a gesture only, and he made no attempt to strike me.

  “The three of them then began speaking very rapidly in their own tongue, occasionally glancing in my direction. It seemed evident from her manner and tone that the woman was in charge of the business, and I waited with foreboding to see what the outcome of their discussion would be. At length, evidently satisfied, the woman nodded her head, then turned and hurried from the room. The two remaining villains at once directed their attention to me, and I must confess that my stomach turned over with fear as they approached me. I had little doubt that the giant could have broken my neck with his bare hands had he felt so inclined. Without a word, he pulled me roughly to my feet and propelled me towards the door, but before I had gone three paces, the sweet-smelling cloth was clapped over my face again from behind, and I knew no more.

  “When I came to, my shoulder was being shaken by an anxious-looking policeman. I rubbed my eyes and looked about me, and found that I was sitting on the grass beneath a tree at the side of Rotten Row in Hyde Park. A glance at my watch showed me that it was almost two o’clock. How I came to be there, and where I had been in the three hours since leaving the tobacconist’s shop, I had no idea. I might almost have dismissed the intervening hours as a terrible dream were it not that my cigar case was not in my pocket. That, gentlemen, is the story of my strange adventure, and I’ll wager you’ve never heard the like!”

  “Was anything else missing, apart from your cigar case?” queried Holmes.

  “No. I examined the contents of my pockets carefully. Not a farthing had been taken from me!”

  “Have you reported the matter to the police?”

  “I certainly have. They said it was a very serious business and took a note of all the details, but I don’t think there is much hope of their finding the men who abducted me.”

  Holmes frowned and seemed lost in thought for a moment, then he sprang from his chair and began rummaging through a pile of old newspapers that were stacked against the wall in the corner of the room.

  “You appear to have borne your ordeal remarkably well,” I observed to Mr Townsend.

  “Thank you, Doctor. I must admit that after a visit to my very accommodating dentist and a good night’s sleep I am none the worse for it, but I would dearly like to recover my cigar case, for it means such a lot to me! I realize, however, that it may be a hopeless task!”

  “It does appear a somewhat daunting prospect,” I concurred, “considering that you do not know where in London you were held, and that London comprises nearly a hundred and fifty square miles and, so I understand, three thousand miles of streets!”

  “Quite so, quite so,” said Mr Townsend in a mournful tone. “Do you see any glimmer of hope in the matter, Mr Holmes?” he continued, addressing my friend and shaking his head in a forlorn manner.

  “More than a glimmer, Mr Townsend,” returned Holmes, who had selected a newspaper from the pile and was glancing at it as he spoke. “Indeed, I fancy I could set my hand on the men, the house and the cigar case, in under the half-hour.”

  “What!” Townsend and I cried together incredulously.

  “Take a look at this,” continued Holmes, holding out the newspaper for us to see. “It is last Monday’s Daily Chronicle.”

  He folded the paper over, and pointed to an advertisement in the corner of the page, which ran as follows:

  CAPTAIN OSTRALICI’S CIRCUS – FINAL WEEK!

  THE WORLD-RENOWNED “FLYING

  HORSES”, personally supervised and trained

  by CAPTAIN OSTRALICI himself!

  THE INCOMPARABLE HIPPOLYTA: Queen of

  the Circus Ring and Mistress of the Flying Horses,

  the most daring and graceful female rider in the world!

  THE GREAT TADEUSZ: the greatest

  knife-thrower ever seen!

  VIGOR, “THE HAMMERSMITH

  WONDER”: Unsurpassed feats

  of
strength and energy by the world’s strongest man!

  CEDRIC, THE EDUCATED LION:

  will amaze and amuse you!

  THE LAST OPPORTUNITY THIS SEASON

  TO SEE

  THE FINEST SPECTACLE IN LONDON!

  NEAREST STATION: HAMMERSMITH.

  “I rather fancy, from your description of the men that these are your abductors,” remarked Holmes to Townsend. “The man with the knives would be this man, Tadeusz, and his immensely strong companion Vigor, ‘the Hammersmith Wonder’. The woman whose charms so struck you might well be this Hippolyta. Indeed, it appears you were only wanting ‘Cedric, the educated lion’ to make up a complete troupe! Have you visited Ostralici’s circus this summer?”

  Townsend shook his head. “No,” said he, “but I have heard that it is very good. The horses, especially, are said to be most spectacular.”

  “There have been posters advertising the circus outside Paddington station all summer,” I remarked, “and there was an article about it in one of the illustrated papers last week-end, which my wife showed me. Several of the leading performers are, I understand, Polish. The woman who goes under the name of ‘Queen Hippolyta’ is in fact Vera Buclevska, who at one time had a well-known riding act with her sister. She is said to be the finest horsewoman in Europe.”

  “But if these are the men who abducted me,” said Townsend in a puzzled tone, “what possible motive could they have had? Why should they seize me in broad daylight in Oxford Street? I have done nothing to them. The whole business is quite pointless!”

  “It appears certain,” responded Holmes, “that their kidnapping of you was a mistake. The woman’s reaction when she saw you, and the quarrel that ensued, is clear enough evidence of that, as is the fact that they then deposited you unharmed in Hyde Park. You did not give them your address?”

  “They never asked me for it,” replied Townsend, shaking his head.

  “And yet you heard them mention ‘Gloucester Terrace’ when they were talking together. They therefore knew the address already, and had quite possibly followed you from there until an opportunity presented itself for them to accost you. You say that your fellow lodger’s name is Smith?”

  “Yes, Jacob Smith. I have occasionally seen his post lying on the hall table.”

  “There are no other lodgers in the house?”

  “No.”

  “Then it must be Smith that they were after. You usually leave the house before nine o’clock in the morning, but yesterday you left at ten and encountered Smith on the stair. He appeared about to leave the house until you startled him. The inference is that ten o’clock is his usual time of departure. It seems likely, then, that the kidnappers seized you in the belief that you were he. If that is correct, then it follows that although they know Smith’s address, and something of his daily habits, they do not know him well enough to recognize that they had got the wrong man, and had to wait for ‘Hippolyta’ to inform them forcibly of the fact. What lies behind it all we cannot at present say, but it seems likely that your fellow lodger is in some danger. Having realized their mistake, these people are likely to try again to get their hands on him. We had best call at Gloucester Terrace first to warn him, before attending to the little matter of your cigar case.”

  “Of course, the cigar case is not important if Mr Smith is in danger,” said Townsend, “but I am surprised you are so confident of finding it. Why, the house in which they held me might be anywhere in London!”

  “When your captors went to bring the woman, they were gone for only a few minutes, and she appeared as if she had hurriedly left her business to come. The inference is that you were being held at no great distance from the circus encampment at Hammersmith.” As Holmes was speaking, he took his hat from the peg and opened the door. “There is no time to lose,” said he, in answer to our surprised expressions. Two minutes later we were in a cab and on our way to Gloucester Terrace.

  Despite our haste, however, we were too late. Mr Townsend’s fellow lodger was not in the house, and we were informed that he had had visitors at ten o’clock that morning.

  “There were three of them,” the housekeeper informed us: “a very handsome young lady, a tall, thin man with a waxed moustache, and a large, thick-set man.”

  “Hippolyta, Tadeusz and Vigor,” said Holmes tersely. “Did Mr Smith leave with his visitors?” he asked the housekeeper.

  “That I could not say, sir,” the woman replied, “for they let themselves out, but shortly afterwards, when the maid went up to clear away Mr Smith’s breakfast things, there was no sign of him in his rooms at all.”

  “The matter grows serious,” said Holmes as we hurried out to our cab. “We will go at once to Hammersmith.”

  “Should we not inform the police?” I suggested.

  “It will only delay us unnecessarily,” responded my friend. “We can find a policeman when we need one.”

  The traffic was dense, and it took us a good half-hour to reach Hammersmith. The cabbie knew where the circus was camped and took us straight there, but as we stepped from the cab, Holmes groaned with dismay, for all about us was a chaotic scene of activity. Poles and planks were being carried this way and that and it was evident that the circus was being dismantled.

  “Of course, the advertisement stated that this was the last week of the season!” cried Holmes, as we threaded our way through the crowds of people and past the stables and animal cages. “The circus is breaking up, and these villains must have believed that they could make good their escape! Let us hope that we are not too late!”

  A stout man in a billycock hat appeared to be in charge of one of the gangs of workers, and Holmes asked him where we might find the manager.

  “If it’s Captain Ostralici you’re after,” he responded in a gruff tone, “you’ve missed him. He only stayed long enough this morning to supervise the loading of the ’osses, and then he left, along with Miss Buclevska and the others. I’m in charge here now, until everything is cleared away.”

  “Where have they gone?”

  “That depends who you mean. The ’osses have gone down to Petersfield for the winter, the other animals go tonight, and Captain Ostralici’s party left on the noon train for Dover, bound for Warsaw.”

  Holmes consulted his watch as we turned away. “This makes it a little difficult,” said he. “Still, their train will not have reached Dover yet, and if we can convince the police here of the seriousness of the matter, they can wire their colleagues in Kent to prevent Ostralici and the others from boarding the boat.”

  As he spoke, he had been glancing quickly round the perimeter of the circus encampment. Now, with a cry of triumph, he directed our attention to a large, dilapidated old house, which stood in the distance, behind a crumbling, ivy-covered brick wall. It had obviously not been occupied for many years, and most of the windows were boarded up. Quickly we made our way across the green, through the open gateway, and round the back of the house, to a yard that was almost choked with brambles and weeds. The lock on the back door had been forced, and we were soon inside and making our way through the deserted building and up the stairs. There, Townsend led the way into a dark and dusty bedroom.

  “This is the one,” said he. “Your eyes become accustomed to the gloom after a little while.”

  “No sign of Mr Smith, at any rate,” said Holmes, a note of relief in his voice.

  We quickly examined the floor by the shuttered window, and had soon found the loose board and lifted it. There, where he had hidden it, was Mr Townsend’s cigar case. As he lifted it up, the diamond in the corner caught the beam of light from the window and sparkled like a tiny star.

  “I could not have imagined when I consulted you,” said Townsend, clutching his prize to his bosom, “that you would find it so quickly, Mr Holmes. To speak frankly, I doubted that you would find it at all. You cannot imagine how dear to me this little case is. I shall be forever in your debt. Now, I suppose, my part in this strange affair is at an end.”
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br />   “By no means,” Holmes returned quickly. “I should be very much obliged if you would accompany us to Dover, if you feel equal to it, to assist with the identification of these villains and to help us find your fellow lodger, Mr Smith. But first we must call at Scotland Yard.”

  Mr Townsend nodded his head in agreement, declaring himself “ready for anything”, and we set off at once. Holmes wired ahead, before we caught a train to Westminster Bridge, and when we arrived at Scotland Yard we were met by the tall, stout figure of Inspector Bradstreet, to whom Holmes quickly explained how matters stood.

  “As I understand it, then,” said the policeman, “it seems likely that this gang has hold of Mr Smith. Whether their intention is to smuggle him to the Continent, or to do him some mischief between here and the Channel, we cannot say, but I can certainly ensure that they are not allowed to board the boat until we have had a chance to question them.” So saying, he hurried from the room, but was back again in a few minutes. “It is all arranged,” said he. “The Harbour Police will detain them until we arrive. There is a train from Charing Cross at two-ten, which will get us into Dover before five. The station master has agreed to hold it for us, but will only do so for five minutes, so we must get round there at once!”

  We reached the station platform with barely a second to spare, and leapt aboard the train as the guard blew his whistle. Scant minutes later, we were flying through the outlying suburbs, the little houses and gardens all bathed in the golden autumn sunshine.

  “It is, of course, possible,” remarked Holmes, “that some harm has already befallen the mysterious Mr Smith. The fact that these people were leaving the country today probably explains why they have acted only in the last twenty-four hours.”