‘Ah, then the small man at Little Newark was Japanese?’
‘More than likely.’
‘Then, as you might say, Holmes, we have a singular coincidence for I read in this morning’s papers that relationships between Russia and Japan continue to be a source of tension. The extension of the railway through Siberia and on to Vladivostok is seen as a threat to Japanese interests. The Russian government is increasing its gold reserves and is calling in the large loans made to other countries. You know, it could be that the bullion with which we are involved is part of the movement of gold among the countries of Europe.’
‘Watson, you have indeed filled in a big hole in our facts. Yes, it is more than likely the small man was Japanese and that he was an emissary overseeing an attempt to prevent the gold reaching Russia.’
‘Another question that needs answering concerns what the gang would have done with the bullion had they taken it?’
‘It is possible there was no intention of disposing of the gold. All they needed to do was to keep it hidden somewhere for as long as possible. The important thing was to delay its journey to Russia. They anticipated that the van would eventually be discovered. Therefore, we might assume that it was not they who attempted to open the van and remove the bullion. They employed robbers who in the end attempted to cheat them by making off with it. Now what we have to do is unravel the strange string of letters on this torn-off piece of paper.’
I spelt out the letters ‘BKADUGANSKWR’ as Holmes wrote them spaced out on a sheet of foolscap. A number of different arrangements were tried.
‘Could this be a code?’ I suggested.
‘I think not. “LONDON” suggests that it is, as we first thought, an address. There is also the possibility that DUGAN is someone’s name. It could be an Irish name and that might indicate that, after all, we are involved with a Fenian plot to steal gold. Except, of course, we have the Japanese characters and the small man.’
‘What if the writer of the note had only a rudimentary knowledge of English and wrote down what he heard? For example “KADUGAN” can be pronounced as Cadogan.’
‘My dear fellow, brilliant. The “SKWR” then is “SQUARE”. Now we have Cadogan Square. And all we need now is the number, which was most likely on the missing part. Unfortunately, all we are left with is the letter B.’
‘Well, that could be part of the number. As with your address here in Baker Street, the B is part of the number.’
The street directory revealed a 38B Cadogan Square W. There were no other numbers with an appended B.
At that moment Mrs Hudson ushered in two gentlemen. The larger of the two was Holmes’ brother Mycroft, who introduced the other.
‘Sherlock, this is Sir Charles Seebroke.’
Holmes gave a slight bow and said, ‘I have had the honour to meet the Foreign Secretary on a previous occasion. Please sit down, gentlemen. I surmise that this visit to Baker Street predicates a matter concerning the attempted bullion robbery. I have responded to your instructions that were passed on to me by the commissioner of police, and have made every effort to locate the gang.’
‘Well, have you anything to tell us, Mr Holmes?’
Holmes recounted the solving of the address.
‘Mr Holmes, before you investigate further I am at liberty to acquaint you with certain facts that may be of help. I regret that I have been unable to confide in you earlier. I must emphasize that Her Majesty’s government has been placed in a difficult situation relating to two foreign powers.’
‘Russia and Japan, no doubt.’
‘Exactly. As I am sure you are aware, relationships between the two are strained to say the least. However, there are two aspects of this. On the one hand, both issue bellicose statements. On the other, at diplomatic level, they endeavour to pour oil on the troubled waters. Japan is not strong enough at present to challenge Russia either on land or at sea. In about ten years from now she hopes to have a powerful navy. This is where we come into the affair. The yards at Barrow, with government encouragement, are building warships for Japan. The Royal Navy is helping to train their officers and seamen. As I said, the present official policy of the Japanese court is a pacific one. Unfortunately a clique of nobles, each being a member of the Samurai warrior class, is determined to confront Russia now. They have agents in many countries including ours. They endeavour to stir up ill feeling between the two nations. We even have information that they may make an attempt on the life of an important Japanese official who is staying in London. If they were to succeed they would then put about that it was the work of Russian agents. Their object being to precipitate war.’
‘So the attempt on the bullion is all part of the plan,’ said Holmes.
‘That is so. It was just one part of their overall scheme. Their principal objective was to weaken Russia’s financial standing in the world.’
‘Yes, that is the conclusion that Doctor Watson reached.’
‘This affair, of course, does not just involve the two countries. As I mentioned, the government is in a difficult position. We do not want to offend Tokyo and thereby jeopardize valuable contracts. At the same time, we do not want to give the czar an excuse to interfere further in Afghanistan. We have only just managed to repair the damage done to our relationship with Russia by that fool Colonel Flashman. Therefore, Mr Holmes, you will understand why we have requested your services, particularly as any action required must be discreet.’
Lestrade and his men kept a surreptitious watch on 38B Cadogan Square. Outwardly it looked no different from its neighbours, except at night it exhibited few lights; on some nights none at all. The servants’ entrance at the bottom of the rear steps appeared not to be used. A detective posing as a brush seller could get no answer to his repeated pulls on the bell knob of the servants’ door. Inquiries among the local shopkeepers determined that none had been asked to deliver to the house.
After further consideration of the facts and mindful of the need for a quick solution to the case, it was decided that we had to see inside the house. Holmes, Lestrade and I waited on a corner of the square. I had my service revolver with me.
‘We’ve chosen a good night for what we intend. The noise of the wind and rain is on our side,’ commented Holmes.
With water finding its way under his collar, Lestrade muttered, ‘When I look back on my time with the Yard, my strongest memory will be nights such as this. Villainy seems to go with this sort of weather.’
‘Time to make a move,’ whispered Holmes, even although the noise of the elements would have drowned a normal voice.
‘Remember, Mr Holmes, we have no warrant to enter these premises. If we’re caught we’ll be disowned until such time as the affair quietens down.’
Holmes just shrugged at the inspector’s reminder and led the way to the door of number 38B. There was no sign of life.
I ventured to remark, sotto voce, ‘Perhaps they’ve all gone to a performance of The Mikado?’
Holmes gave me a look that implied my levity was not appropriate at such a critical moment. After trying a number of different tools from his roll of house-breaking equipment, Holmes sprang the lock. Once inside the dark hallway, we three ‘conspirators’ were faced with having to decide on our next move. Holmes pointed upward and we moved slowly and quietly up the stairs. We trusted our leader’s instinctive decision, only because Lestrade and I had no ideas of our own.
At the end of the upper hall, the small pool of light from Lestrade’s dark lantern moved ahead of us. Suddenly it revealed something that brought us to a halt. Before us was what appeared to be the lower part of a richly embroidered heavy curtain. Lestrade slowly raised the lamp to reveal a broad belt or sash into which were thrust two sword scabbards. Moving the lamp light up further, it came to a fearsome scowling face. For a fleeting moment I imagined they were confronting one of the costumes on display at the current exhibition of Oriental artefacts and dress at the Victoria and Albert Museum.
‘It’s
the dress of a samurai warrior,’ I murmured.
In a remarkably calm voice Holmes said, ‘It’s more than that, it is a very real Samurai warrior.’
As he spoke I remembered reading about the lightning speed with which the deadly swords could be drawn, applied and placed back in their scabbards even before the two separated halves of an opponent’s body fell to the ground.
The two swords flashed in the dim light. I fired my revolver close to Lestrade’s ear. The warrior fell back in a heap of elaborate brocade.
‘Thank goodness you fired, Watson. He could have sliced all three of us up. Mind you, using your pistol against a swordsman is not really cricket.’
The other occupants of the house made no attempt to resist arrest. On being questioned, they were found to be just servants. The samurai warrior was the only one in the country. As for the gang who attempted the robbery, they were petty criminals and were soon rounded up. The small man, whose footprints and manner of mounting a horse had attracted Holmes’ attention, was a youth who had badly injured his left hand, which prevented him mounting in the usual manner.
When the affair of the vanishing van was over, I remembered about the Oriental characters written on the other side of the piece of paper.
‘Come to think of it, Holmes, have the Japanese characters been translated?’
‘Yes, they have. It was apparently some lines of verse. Something about cherry blossom and a dragon breathing fire and steam. There was more about flowers and rivers and mountains and snow. In fact a hotch-potch. The sort of thing an overemotional schoolgirl might pen to her favourite teacher.’
‘The Pirates of Penzance is now on. Are you interested?’
Holmes grunted and turned to his violin.
* On the railways the ‘down’ direction is for trains going away from London, ‘up’ and ‘down’ having been inherited from the Admiralty visual telegraph chain of stations that extended down from London to Portsmouth.
The Brighton Clown
In which the Indian Mutiny provides a clue.
It was late September; the weather was hot and oppressive. I made one of my frequent visits to 221B Baker Street. Holmes had opened the windows to try and cool his sitting-room but that let in even more overheated air. Below, in the street, people who usually bustled busily about their diverse tasks now moved slowly. My friend was sprawled in his old armchair. His pipe added to the oppressive atmosphere. For me there was one consolation in this uncomfortable weather. It seemed that Holmes was becoming less dependent on narcotics.
‘We need a good thunderstorm, Watson, to clear the air.’
‘I agree with you. A good downpour would refresh the air and cool the hot streets as well as lay the dust.’
The page boy entered the room. ‘A mister to see you, sir.’
‘His name, Billy?’
‘Didn’t give no name.’
‘Well, I suppose I must see him. At least it will break the monotony of this, so far, very inactive day. Show the gentleman up.’
The man who entered was very portly and rather short of breath. He had a mottled complexion and his clothes were what I understand are called ‘loud’.
Coming towards me he said, ‘Good morning, Mr Holmes, I’m glad you have agreed to see me.’
‘I’m Doctor Watson, this is Mr Holmes,’ said I, inclining my head towards the recumbent figure in the well-used chair.
Holmes stood up, shook hands with the visitor and said, ‘Now, sir, why do you wish to see me?’
‘Mr Holmes, I’m a –’ Holmes interrupted him. ‘You are a man of the circus, I believe.’
‘However did you know that? I’d wager we’ve never met before!’
‘Indeed, I have not had that pleasure. How I deduced your profession is not important. More importantly, I can see from your countenance that you have lost no time in reaching me, and that leads me to believe the matter which you wish to put before me is of an urgent nature.’
‘Very true. I’ve come up from Brighton as soon as I could get away from my circus. I desperately need your help. My son is one of the clowns and he has been arrested on a charge of murder.’
‘Of course. The affair in which an attendant at the Royal Pavilion was killed.’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. However, it was not my son. It was someone impersonating him. The police will not let him go. They say that he matches in every respect the murderer. Please, I need your help. I’ll pay anything you ask.’
‘You are, of course, the Great Congreve of the circus of that name. I can assure you I often take on cases more for the intellectual exercise it gives my brain rather than monetary reward. I shall incur expenses but they will not be large. I shall go down to Brighton as soon as I can. In the meantime, rest assured that I shall endeavour to prove your son is innocent.’
When Congreve had left, Holmes suggested that, if it were convenient, he would appreciate my help with the case. As I had few patients in my diary for the next day, I agreed. I was sure that my wife would not object.
The next morning we were in a train bound for Brighton.
‘I appreciate your coming with me, Watson, because, as a medical man, you may be able to persuade the police surgeon to disclose more about the nature of the wounds that killed the attendant.’
‘I shall try my best. In this newspaper report it states that a very valuable and rare ruby was stolen from the collection of Oriental jewels on display. The murderer apparently took none of the others even though, together, they were of even greater value.’
‘That is a singular fact. Why take just one jewel? The answer must be with the ruby itself. Now, what do we know about it? All that we do know is that it was part of a collection loaned from Windsor Castle to enhance a display of Oriental jewels and artefacts. In fact, this is the first time the particular set of precious items had been seen by the public.’
As the train approached East Croydon, it began to slow down. This prompted Holmes to comment, ‘As usual, the railway company is about to extend the time it takes to travel the fifty miles or so between London and the coast as much as possible.’
The London Brighton and South Coast Railway deposited us in the historic Regency resort in just under one hour and a half after leaving Victoria station.
Our first success on the way to proving the innocence of the clown came when I found that the police surgeon had been with me during the Afghan campaign. He was most helpful and I am sure was intrigued to find that I was with my famous friend.
At the mortuary, we examined the victim’s head.
‘I see he was more than likely struck down by a left-handed man,’ said Holmes. ‘I presume you examined the accused and did you notice which hand he preferred?’
‘I regret, sir,’ replied the police surgeon, ‘that it is not customary to examine an accused person in such detail other than to ascertain whether he is under the influence of strong drink. I fail to understand why you assume that the fatal blow was delivered by a left-handed man.’
‘Because, as you can see, the diagonal wound at an angle across the left temple was more than likely struck by a sweeping blow of the left hand moving across the victim’s body, from left to right. I shall demonstrate. If you please, Watson.’
Using me as the victim, Holmes demonstrated to the satisfaction of the police surgeon that indeed the murderer was left-handed.
‘You have been most helpful in letting us examine the victim’s body,’ said Holmes. ‘Ah, I nearly forgot. Can you tell me anything about the accused? I understand from his father that he was the principal clown in the Great Congreve’s circus.’
‘Yes, that is so. In fact he is very well known in the town. He dresses as a clown and hands out playbills to passers-by. He strolls along the promenade and sometimes walks up one of the roads leading to the station. To the town’s people and in particular to the visitors at this time of the year, he is a familiar figure.’
‘Most interesting.’ Holmes paused and then said, ‘Yet how stra
nge. Someone in the costume of a clown was seen coming from the scene of the dreadful crime. If anyone is intent on robbery they usually avoid drawing attention to themselves. Yet here we have a murderer dressed as a clown. Not just any clown but one familiar to many in Brighton.’
‘I must agree with that, Mr Holmes. It is indeed strange behaviour,’ replied the police surgeon.
Despite Holmes’ reluctance to be away from London for a night, he decided that we should stay in a hotel. Breakfast the next morning was passable except for the marmalade. Holmes considered it to be of a very inferior quality and told the head waiter what he thought of it. After breakfast we were seated in the window of the hotel, watching the holiday crowd on the promenade.
‘Across there, at the entrance to the West Pier, is where our clown often stood. I’m wondering if the murderer sat where we are now and he was watching the people and the clown,’ observed Holmes.
‘Yes, that is a possibility,’ I replied. ‘If we were to assume that the murderer was in this room then perhaps he actually stayed here. We could ask to see the names of recent guests. Of course he may not have given his real name.’
‘Quite so, Watson. Nevertheless it may be worth a try. Mind you, if he did not stay here then we shall have to visit all the other hotels, of which there are a great many.’
The manager of the hotel was reluctant to divulge the names of guests. When Holmes mentioned that he was a detective the manager said, ‘Oh, of course, you are the famous Sherlock Holmes. I have read about the way you help the police to track down villains. Certainly, you may see the guest list. I’m sure your interest in them is in the interests of justice.’
‘Thank you. Yes, Doctor Watson and I are very much concerned with justice. Now may I look at the list of those who have registered in the past few days?’
‘Have you a particular name in mind, Mr Holmes?’
Sherlock Holmes at the Breakfast Table Page 3