The Curious Case of the Purloined Hard Drive (Sherlock Holmes in Silicon Valley)

by CP Haus

  “As I was saying, Sir James and I were having lunch at a local hawker stall, he being particularly fond of the chicken and rice on offer at the particular establishment. During a pause, he confessed to being at a loss about an urgent case, which was peculiar and devious at the same time.”

  Professor Wright interjected, “I trust is was deep dark murder, Holmes?”

  Holmes smiled at the professor and shook his head side to side. “Nothing of the sort, although there were dark deeds involved.”

  “As we were finishing lunch, Sir James asked me if I had some free time to assist him with the perplexing case. I had been in Singapore to present a paper at a symposium on the use of scientific analysis for crime scenes, and was on my way back to London in a few days. I told Sir James that I was indeed at liberty and nothing appealed to me as much as a good case. This is what Sir James told me.”

  I should tell my readers that, at this point of Holmes’s story, our audience had grown beyond our quiz team. It seemed as if the entire pub was bending an ear to hear his tale. Holmes may have taken notice of his larger audience, but he continued as if telling a ghost story around a Boy Scout bonfire.

  “There was, at this time in Singapore, a British business tycoon who had the reputation of ruthlessness and avarice. Nothing criminal could ever be proven against him, but rumors are seldom without merit. For now I’ll call him, ah, John McConnell. McConnell had his fingers into all sorts of business enterprises in Singapore and beyond. He had a vast empire including shipping, export, import, tea plantations in Ceylon--you name it, he was involved. His ruthlessness made him both admired and despised by all.

  “One of his few passions besides making money was a world-class collection of jade figurines he had amassed over the years. I believe that his father had started the collection, but McConnell expanded it a hundred fold. He only collected the finest pieces, yet he paid cut-rate prices for them--always taking advantage of fellow collectors who were in financial difficulties and needed to sell out.

  “Sir John told me that one piece that McConnell coveted beyond all others was a famous bowl that was from the Yuan dynasty. It had belonged to the Emperor Qianlong, but had passed from his collection by mysterious circumstances until it was owned by a local Peranakan businessman Quin Soh. McConnell had seen the piece and offered Soh a substantial but still low price for it. Soh had refused. McConnell then used his business connections to start making things difficult for Soh’s business, but Soh would not budge.

  “Finally, things came to the point where Soh had to sell his masterpiece--he was destitute and his children going hungry. Now, what would you think that McConnell, who had engineered Soh’s fall, would do? Offer his original price? What do you think, Watson?”

  I was taken aback for a moment, drawn to the present instead of the mystical Orient.

  “Why, from what you said, I presume that McConnell kept his word and helped Soh out?” I suggested.

  “Nothing of the sort, Watson! McConnell was a black-hearted man. No, instead of his original offer, he suggested a quarter of his original price, and ended up settling for maybe a third. Mind you, he had created the situation, and now, when the opportunity presented itself, he beats down a hard trodden man. McConnell was a bastard of the first order.

  “Of course Soh had to sell--he had no other way to make good his debts and get his feet back on the ground. Soh got the money and McConnell his treasured bowl.”

  By this time, the entire pub was unabashedly listening in to Holmes's tale. As our beers were already finished, Holmes seemed to try to rise and order a fresh round, much to the dismay of his audience--there was a general rush to the bar to bring him and our team another round.

  Suitable refreshed, Holmes continued.

  “I do hope I’m not boring anyone with this tale? I’ll try to get to the point more quickly.

  “So, we left our man McConnell with his prized Yuan bowl and the satisfaction of pushing Businessman Soh into the dirt. One would think that things were going well for McConnell, but alas, no--it was roughly around this time that various aspects of his business started to fray at the edges.

  “Sir James had received confidential information that McConnell’s books were being cooked. Other information was beginning to come in about the other businesses that he was involved in--illegal transport of drugs, slavery and sundry offenses against the Crown. Within six months of getting the bowl, McConnell began to think it was cursed.

  “Indeed, several people in the Peranakan community confirmed it to Sir James. Soh had explained his situation to the local priests and they had assured him that vengeance would ultimately be his.

  “All of the above is a prelude to the particular case that Sir James asked me about. Pray forgive me for being so long winded in it, you need to understand the context of the situation.

  “A couple days before our lunch, Sir James was preparing search warrants against McConnell when, to his surprise, he received a telephone call from McConnell’s chief butler--would the Constable himself come to McConnell’s estate? A serious crime had been committed that needed delicacy. Sir John was about to refuse, but decided it would do no harm in seeing the headquarters of his soon to be prey, so to speak.

  “Upon arriving at the palatial estate, Sir James was escorted into the Jade Room. Sir James told me he knew a bit about jade, but the magnitude and quality of what was on display would put even the British Museum to shame--a truly world class collection.

  “McConnell entered the room as Sir James stood staring at the contents.

  “‘Rather impressive, wouldn’t you say, Sir James?” asked McConnell.

  “Sir James was shocked by the appearance of McConnell. A normally robust man, McConnell seemed to have shrunken in the previous months. A deathly paleness was evident on his visage--and his creased brow, palsied hands and shabby clothing did nothing to dissuade Sir James that this was indeed a fallen man. Perhaps the rumors of the cursed bowl were true?

  “”Yes, your collection is very impressive, no matter how ill-got it might be,’ said Sir James. Even in his obviously much reduced situation, Sir James was not about to let this fish get off the hook.

  “‘What is so important that you needed me to come personally? I trust I’m not here to admire jade figurines, no matter how magnificent,” said Sir James.

  “‘Come this way, Chief Constable,” said McConnell, leading him to the center of the room. Sir James knew that a special display case had been created for the Yuan bowl--McConnell had had as much fanfare and press coverage as even he could tolerate when he acquired the bowl. McConnell was leading him to the case.

  “But instead of the Yuan bowl, there rested in the middle of the case a severed human finger--the middle digit of the left hand. There was no blood and no sign of forced entry. It was simply a finger where the bowl should have been.”

  The pub had gone silent with Holmes’s revelation. Imagine, instead of the treasured bowl, a grisly reminder of what McConnell’s chicanery had resulted in! Holmes looked up and saw that the room was in awe of his tale. He continued.

  “Sir James had been to the McConnell collection that morning and was at a loss to explain it. The household staff had been interviewed with no result. Yes, there was an alarm system in place which was operating properly. Some of the staff thought the theft might have been done by a gardener who had been dismissed from the household staff for some minor infraction. He had been a ‘bad Chinese’ according to the staff. No, they had no idea where he was. There was absolutely no sign of forced entry. All that was evident was the missing bowl and the hideous finger.

  “Those of you familiar with the traditions of the Far East will appreciate the significance of the digit, for it is considered the foulest part of the human anatomy--the dreaded finger of the left hand. This was no accident--this was intended to show that McConnell had erred and had brought down the ‘wrath of the gods’ on himself.

  “Sir James put the case to me up to that point. He w
as at a loss to explain what to do--clearly the bowl was stolen and it was quite evident that the mysterious elements of the Far East were at work. He suspected that perhaps the gardener had been an operative of one of the Chinese Tongs, which exerted great power even in the relative safety of Singapore. Some master of one of the Tongs, having seen the publicity related to the bowl, must have coveted it for himself and, by way of the gardener, effected the theft, and left the finger as a warning to not pursue the case further. They had not found the gardener, but thought they might be closer to apprehending him.

  “I thanked Sir James for bringing me into the case, and promised that I would look into it. Even during those early years of my time in Asia, I had built up a network of colleagues who would, I guessed, put me right. I proposed that Sir James and I meet that evening for a drink and, if I had made progress, we would visit McConnell. The Chief Constable was perplexed at my confidence and readily agreed to our evening meeting. With that we parted company.”

  By this time, Holmes’s tale had consumed all the intermission time between the first and second part of the quiz night, but it was clear that all present would rather hear the next part of his tale instead of continuing the quiz. Holmes apologized profusely and promised that he would quickly wrap up the story and permit us to continue the quiz, albeit perhaps an abbreviated session. He continued with his story.

  “I spent the rest of the day visiting here and there and making enquiries. I even visited the unfortunate Quin Soh, whose business was gradually recovering from his encounter with McConnell. Yes, he despised the man but he certainly was not the type to be so vengeful to steal the bowl and leave the finger. He delighted in hearing of the loss and was of course aware of McConnell’s failing fortunes.

  “It was late that afternoon when, in one of the back alleys in the Indian section of Singapore, I received the information that led to the solution of the case. What seemed impossible was suddenly perfectly clear, for the fact that McConnell was so widely despised in Singapore made people all the more willing to talk about him.

  “Sir James and I met at Professor Wright’s favorite establishment--the bar of the Raffle’s Hotel--but we both eschewed the Singapore Sling in favor of Beefeater martinis. Sir James was perplexed at my confidence, but after reassuring him that my afternoon’s efforts would resolve the case he was both thankful and worried. Since our time with McConnell was set for 6 p.m., we postponed dinner until after the meeting.”

  It was at this point that I could not keep from speaking. “My dear Holmes, how could you, working alone, have cracked a case that the Chief Constable himself found impossible? This is frankly bearing on the incredible! How did you figure it out?” I asked.

  “Watson, you must realize that when the many work together, as a team, great things can be accomplished. So it was with the McConnell Finger case. By bringing together several disparate individuals, we were able to resolve the case where none of us, working alone, could succeed. Pray be patient for a few moments further and all will be clear.

  “Sir James and I were escorted into McConnell’s study, a beautifully appointed room with many fine antiques, as well as parts of his jade collection. I was shocked as had been Sir James by McConnell’s physical fall from power. He shuffled like an old man, and it seemed that the weight of the world was on his shoulders. I almost felt pity for him, but I remembered poor Mr. Soh and the despicable way McConnell had treated him. I felt no pity for the man, nor for what was to soon be revealed.

  “‘So, have you caught my gardener yet?” demanded McConnell.

  “‘Yes, he’s been apprehended. Certainly not a member of any Tong, and quite incapable of stealing something so well protected,’ said Sir James evenly.

  “‘Then we must assume the bowl was stolen by parties unknown?’ asked McConnell, seeming relieved.

  “‘Oh, I don’t think we’ll be allowing you to file an insurance claim against the bowl, McConnell. You see, Mr. Holmes here has come up with the solution to this mystery,’ said Sir James.

  “‘What, some amateur detective? What does this dabbler think the situation is then?’ demanded McConnell.

  “I was examining McConnell during this brief exchange. While his body had started to deteriorate, clearly his mind was still as evil as ever. I would show no mercy in my revelations.

  “‘There are three facts that I became aware of this afternoon that have a bearing on this case,’ I began. McConnell sat down at his desk chair and put his arms on the desk, gripping his hands as he did so.

  “‘First, I established that you took out a multimillion dollar insurance policy on the Yang bowl. None of your other jade pieces are insured, yet you chose to insure that particular piece. Is there a reason why?’ I asked.

  “‘What I chose to insure is my business and that of the insurance company, and certainly none of your business,” snapped McConnell.

  “‘Yet it is curious that this policy, which no ordinary company would have written due to the size of the coverage, happens to have been accepted by an insurance company owned by you. I discovered that, immediately the policy was written, a sizable sum was spent to reinsure the policy, so that in the case of a theft, your insurance company , and thus you personally, would not suffer the loss. That’s a rather odd business practice, no?’ I said.

  “‘I let the workings of the insurance to the experts, Mr. Holmes. If they chose to underwrite it quickly, I wouldn’t know about that, would I?’ said McConnell, uncomfortably. I could see that he was becoming increasingly agitated. I gave Sir James a knowing look and he winked in reply.

  “‘Let’s leave that part of the case for now. My other enquiries were somewhat gruesome, but nevertheless, profitable. I discovered that, when you acquired the Hong Sing Conglomerate, you not only got the shipping line you were after, but you also got a very small enterprise that, while profitable, was perhaps so small as to not attract anyone’s attention but mine,” I said steely.

  “‘Damn you, man, how did you find out about Lee Fat!’ exclaimed McConnell, now rising from the desk, his fist shaking at the Constable and myself.

  “‘I’m afraid it’s all over, McConnell! You are a scoundrel, and the roots of the downfall you are experiencing are all your own doing! We are leaving now, and I trust that you will make what amends you can this evening. Sir James will be expecting a full confession of this situation in the morning. What befalls you later is, to some extent, in your powers. Let me reassure you that you are near the precipice. It’s not too late for remorse and redemption--this last ploy backfired and you have no other way out. You have many big things to resolve in the coming days and weeks, but one small thing you need to fix immediately. I trust you understand me? Excellent. Sir James, let us be off!’ I said, taking Sir James by the arm and leading him out of the room. I glanced back and saw McConnell slump into his desk chair.

  “‘My God, Holmes, what was that all about?’ asked Sir James. “What the devil is going on?”

  “Sir James and I took a cab to the Moghul Mahal Indian Restaurant (one of my favorites in Singapore) and I filled him in on the final clue of the story.

  “For it turns out that indeed when McConnell acquired Hong Sing, he also acquired the Lee Fat funeral parlor/crematoria. I had found out about his ownership that afternoon and visited Mr. Lee. Lee confirmed that he had been unexpected honored by a visit to his establishment by the great Mr. McConnell, who wanted a tour of the facilities, with a particular emphasis on seeing the part of the building where the bodies were stored before cremation. Lee was perplexed and worried about this visit but nevertheless complied. It was during the examination of the storage room that Lee was called away by an urgent telephone call. When he returned, McConnell had seemed shaken. It was after McConnell had left that Lee went back and examined the bodies, only to discover, to his horror, that one of them was missing a digit on his left hand. Lee was frantic that a family member would discover the disfigurement, but the family had not noticed. He was also terrified
of what McConnell would do should he say anything, so he kept quiet until I talked with him. I reassured Lee that the missing digit would be returned and he could take the necessary steps to reunite the body part with the whole.