The Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes

by Paul Gilbert

  ‘In all honesty, I was so distracted by our preparations to depart that I gave those two little or no attention and his insistence that he was the greatest knife-thrower ever to grace the ring of a circus, fell on deaf ears. It was only when I discovered that they had followed our show all the way to our base in London that I decided that their perseverance, if nothing else, warranted giving them an audition.

  ‘Despite their somewhat tattered appearance in Italy they had, evidently preserved their stage clothes in good repair and when they eventually presented their act they looked impressive indeed. Alfred was attired in a black suit that was richly bordered with a striking red brocade. His club foot was disguised by the great width of the hems of his trousers. Sonia wore a dazzling red leotard decorated with jet beads and silver diamante and the same red shoes that I had seen briefly in Padua, the whole ensemble being crowned by a sparkling tiara.

  ‘Their act was every bit as sensational as their appearance. Upon my word, Mr Holmes, throughout all my years under the “big top” I have yet to witness a finer exponent of the knife-thrower’s art than the “Remarkable Ricoletti”. His speed and accuracy are unparalleled and his ability to almost shave the skin of his target, while yet leaving it unscathed, borders on the uncanny.

  ‘This much I recognized at once and I lost no time in signing them both up for the next season. It was a decision that I have never regretted. They created a sensation whenever they appeared and, up to two days ago, they have proved to be our biggest draw.’ Carlton Clarke now paused as he sipped his tea disconsolately.

  Holmes now opened his eyes and leant forward.

  ‘Mr Clarke, you must spare me no detail, no matter how trivial it might appear to be, as you relate the events of two days ago.’ Holmes quietly instructed him.

  ‘Those events are still so indelibly imprinted on my mind that to omit any of them would be impossible,’ Clarke reassured him.

  ‘I should preface my statement by making one thing clear from the outset. Despite their teamwork in the ring, the Walker’s marriage was not a happy one. There was not one occasion when this affected their performance, indeed their public rejoiced in the fact that the “Ricolettis” were a couple rather than just a performer and his assistant. However, once they were backstage they rarely enjoyed a happy moment together. Sonia would not give Alfred a minute’s rest. She was forever scolding him over one thing or another and would pursue him for a new frock or a pair of shoes, to the point of distraction. This despite the fact that her obsession was bringing about their financial ruination.

  ‘On the other hand Alfred was a man of moderation and after a fearsome argument he would eventually give in to Sonia’s feverish demands. Nevertheless, it was becoming harder for him to continue with the act and at last, two days ago, things appeared to be coming to a head.

  ‘“Goldie” had made off with another pair of Sonia’s shoes and—’

  ‘Who or what is “Goldie”?’ Holmes impatiently interrupted.

  ‘My apologies, Mr Holmes. I should have mentioned that “Goldie” was Alfred’s closest friend and his only harbour from the storm of his marital turmoil. He was also a Golden Labrador with a peculiar penchant for ladies’ shoes.’

  ‘So “Goldie” is a dog.’ Holmes stated, clearly becoming exasperated. ‘Yet you refer to it in the past tense?’

  ‘When the accident occurred he became most agitated. He ran around their changing room barking hysterically, chewing up everything in his path, until he eventually disappeared through the tent flap, to be seen no more.’

  ‘So you are still referring to the tragedy as an accident,’ I observed, full of admiration for Clarke’s continuing loyalty to his beleaguered friend.

  ‘Indeed I do, Doctor, but before I can convince anyone of Alfred’s innocence I must first explain the reasons for his suspected guilt. Sonia’s reaction to Goldie’s mauling of her pair of shoes was, perhaps, the most verbally violent that we had yet witnessed. She compounded this by hurling various objects around the room and she insulted Alfred in the most objectionable and personal terms. He was only able to calm the situation by offering to replace the shoes and by promising to give the dog away. Such is the man’s dedication to his art that he was willing to make so great a sacrifice for the preservation of his act. Then they continued with their rehearsal.’

  ‘What, exactly, are the circumstances and conditions in which these rehearsals take place?’ Holmes asked.

  ‘The intensity of their concentration is such that they always practise alone and in the confines of their room. You may ask why Sonia needs to concentrate at the same level as her husband, but when I tell you that their show, even in rehearsal, is performed throughout with Alfred fully blindfolded, and that Sonia’s positioning and stillness is of life preserving importance, you might then well understand.’

  Holmes called a pause to this narration by holding up his hand before him. ‘You are absolutely convinced of the total efficacy of these blindfolds?’ Holmes asked. ‘Have no doubt as to the importance of the accuracy of your answer, Mr Clarke.’

  ‘Oh, I have no doubt, Mr Holmes,’ Clarke replied emphatically. ‘The very first thing that I did before their first audition was to test the thoroughness of his blindfolds. Furthermore, every so often I conduct random inspections, to ensure the continued authenticity of the act. I have yet to be disappointed. Therefore I am convinced that all was as it should be on the night of the tragedy. The camp settled down soon after Sonia’s histrionics and the Walkers continued with their rehearsal in absolute silence. So it was only when the dog began his crazed yelping that we were alerted to what had befallen Sonia. We raced to their tent and there found Alfred sobbing inconsolably over the body of his wife, who lay there soaked in the blood of her awful, gaping head wound. Alfred’s beautiful knife was still hanging there embedded between Sonia’s darkened eyes. The police surgeon confirmed, subsequently, that she had died instantly.

  ‘Mr Holmes I implore you to take up my friend’s case, despite its unpromising appearance. Do not let the circumstances cloud your instincts, as they have clouded those of others.’ Clarke now glanced briefly in Lestrade’s direction. ‘Despite all that he had endured in the face of Sonia’s vile, avaricious temperament, Alfred was still very much in love with his wife and his pure nature would preclude his carrying out so heinous a crime as he has been accused of.’

  Carlton Clarke now sank back into his chair with the relief of one who has been exhausted by his efforts.

  ‘Have no fear, Mr Clarke,’ Holmes declared, though glowering towards his old adversary from the Yard. ‘As Watson here will attest, your friend’s predicament will not be the first, nor, I am certain, the last forlorn cause that we have taken up.’

  Waving aside all Clarke’s efforts to express his gratitude, Holmes next announced: ‘Now, Watson, I would set you to the task of securing the services of two hansom-cabs.’

  ‘Two?’ I queried.

  ‘One for my visit to the circus and the other for you to obtain the services of Toby.’

  ‘Ah, I think I understand,’ I answered, ignoring the questioning glances of the other two.

  I should mention here that Toby is an old canine ally of ours. A bloodhound of unremarkable appearance and yet unerring instincts and abilities who had come to our assistance on more than one occasion, most notably during the successful culmination of ‘The Sign of Four’ affair.

  So it was but a few moments later whilst Holmes and the others were hurrying towards the scene of the crime, that I found myself on the way to Lambeth. Number three, Pinchin Lane, to be precise, and the residence of the smallest and strangest zoo that I have ever heard of. On this occasion I had no great difficulty in finding the place and still less in identifying Toby, for he came bounding towards me without a moment’s hesitation. Sherman, the owner of the beast, handed him over, content in the knowledge that Sherlock Holmes was to put Toby to good service once again.

  After his affectionate greetings had
bestowed a good dowsing upon my face, Toby bounded contentedly alongside me, towards the waiting cab, happy to escape his confinements, albeit for a short time. By the time we had reached the ‘Big Top’ of Clarke’s Circus, Holmes’s researches were evidently already well under way. He was dusting off his trousers in a disgruntled manner and Lestrade was standing nearby, wearing an air of triumphant smugness.

  When I entered the Walker’s changing room, alongside my canine companion, Lestrade could not contain his derisory laughter.

  ‘Oh, Mr Holmes! I simply cannot imagine what assistance you expect to obtain from this poor bedraggled creature!’ Poor Carlton Clarke, who was standing within earshot, looked forlorn and crestfallen.

  Undaunted, Holmes replied: ‘We shall see, we shall see, but Toby has yet to fail me.’ Holmes greeted the dog with a vigorous rubbing of its head. ‘Now, Mr Clarke, is there anything that you see in the room, which you would immediately associate with the missing Labrador?’ he continued cheerily.

  While Clarke conducted his own search Holmes identified to me the various points of interest that he had observed within the room. There was none that I could associate with the innocence of the now incarcerated knife-thrower, although I was fascinated by the patterns drawn by the knife marks that decorated a large wooden board. The unerring accuracy of each of Walker’s throws was awesome to behold and the precise outline of a female body was there for all to see.

  ‘Surely those marks alone confirm the guilt of Alfred Walker. Someone capable of such consistent accuracy would hardly miss the mark so dramatically,’ Lestrade sneered, having observed our interest in the marks.

  ‘Neither would he be the fool that you make him out to be,’ Holmes responded. ‘It is inconceivable that a man of his reputation would bring about his wife’s demise in such a clumsy and obvious manner. No, Lestrade, there must be another explanation. There has to be. Now, Mr Clarke, did the Walkers go through the same routine every time they rehearsed?’

  ‘Oh, absolutely. Each rehearsal was a private performance of the act.’

  ‘Were the knives thrown in the same order every time?’

  ‘Every time,’ Clarke confirmed. ‘The first knife thrown was always the one above the head.’

  ‘Note that, Watson, the fatal knife was the first and only one thrown that night!’

  ‘What are you driving at, Mr Holmes?’ Lestrade enquired anxiously.

  ‘Were the blindfolds always employed in rehearsals?’ Holmes next asked, ignoring Lestrade’s question.

  ‘With all due respect, Mr Holmes, there would be no point otherwise,’ Clarke replied, clearly as confused at Holmes’s line of questioning as the rest of us.

  ‘Therefore, if Sonia Walker had altered her stance or positioning that evening Alfred could not possibly have been aware of it,’ Holmes murmured to himself.

  ‘But Holmes, Sonia would hardly have deliberately jeopardized her own life by doing so,’ I suggested.

  ‘Quite so. Unless she was not …’ Holmes’s words trailed off with his thoughts, which for the time being remained his own. Yet, strangely, I now felt renewed confidence in his ability to clear Alfred Walker.

  ‘So, Mr Clarke, there is nothing in the room that might aid Toby in his search?’ Holmes asked, having recovered his composure.

  ‘Sadly not.’ The circus owner shook his head slowly and the smirk on Lestrade’s face broadened visibly.

  Holmes snatched Toby’s leash from my grasp. ‘Gentlemen, I suggest we meet again at Baker Street this evening. Come, Watson, the instincts of our canine friend here may yet prove to be more reliable than those of certain humans that I might care to mention!’

  Once we were out of earshot of the others and with Toby not pursuing any obvious trail, I quietly broached a subject that I had feared might prove to be a delicate one.

  ‘Holmes, in the absence of a scent for him to pursue, surely Toby’s presence here is now redundant.’

  Surprisingly, under the circumstances, an enigmatic smile slowly lit up Holmes’s face. ‘On the contrary, it is more valuable than before. See here.’ Slowly Holmes extracted a sliver of what appeared to be red leather from his waistcoat pocket. ‘You see, Watson, they searched yet they did not observe. If I am not mistaken I hold here the only remnant that Goldie left behind of Sonia Walker’s red shoes.’ He held this directly beneath Toby’s dripping nose and at once the beast began to stir.

  He took a few sniffs with no obvious purpose or urgency at first, but slowly the momentum increased and in a short while Holmes and I were being led from tent to tent and caravan to caravan throughout the circus encampment. Once or twice we startled various artistes as they prepared for their acts, their astonished screams and shrills adding to the mayhem of our urgent progress. However there was still no sign of our golden quarry.

  In the end, and to our consternation, Toby led us beyond the confines of the circus and on to a stretch of wasteland just beyond.

  ‘Do not be concerned, Watson, this, I am certain is where Walker exercised his dog. Toby will lead us to our goal in no time,’ Holmes encouraged me breathlessly.

  For a few agonizing minutes it appeared that, for once, Holmes was sadly mistaken. Toby’s movements became hesitant and all seemed to be lost as he stopped dead in his tracks and lay down. Undeterred, Holmes waved the strip of leather under Toby’s nose once more and in an instant he was up on his feet again, frantically sniffing the ground around him.

  ‘Quickly, Watson! He would seem to be leading us towards that hollow over there.’

  The ground that we had been traversing so far, had been flat and almost bare of vegetation, apart from the occasional berry bush and the odd stunted tree. Just in front of us, however, a lushly wooded dell was suddenly revealed to us. With some difficulty we scrambled down its steep stony slope and when we collapsed on to the floor at its base Toby broke away from Holmes’s grasp of his leash and disappeared into the tangle of the undergrowth.

  The determination of Toby’s sudden surge forward seemed to indicate that he was now certain of his quarry. We floundered in his wake, but were unable to match his speed and lost sight of him altogether. We feared that he had disappeared for good and that he had gone off on a wild-goose chase when, all of a sudden his distinctive bark echoed through the trees from just a few yards ahead of us.

  Toby was clearly pleased with himself, for he came bounding over to us with his tail flailing about wildly. He led us towards a large hollow that had formed, over the years, at the base of an immense oak. While I regained Toby’s leash Holmes dropped to the ground and crawled towards this depression on his stomach. He was greeted by a terrible snarling and a hostile display of teeth that were most uncharacteristic of a Labrador.

  Holmes employed the same soothing tones that had so often quelled the fears of some of our more distraught female clients and in a moment or two he had successfully coaxed the dog from his lair. He then called for me to join him on the ground. Having secured both dogs to a tree I did his bidding.

  ‘See here Watson. Was there ever a more convincing display of a dog’s devotion to his master than this?’

  I stared into the darkness, to where Holmes indicated, yet all that I could see was a strange collection of mangled pieces of red leather within the darkest recesses of the tree-trunk.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ I protested. ‘There is nothing here that would indicate devotion.’

  ‘Very likely not, yet this display, described by Carlton Clarke as the dog’s “peculiar penchant” is nothing of the sort! He is destroying the most prized possessions that once belonged to the object of his hate and the cause of his abject misery. However, there is much more of relevance to be learnt here than merely the understanding of the wretchedness of a dog.’

  Before I could question him as to the exact significance of this latest discovery he sprang to his feet and made a small sack out of his jacket by tying its sleeves together in a tight knot. Into this bundle he now threw the remnants of leather that h
e had gathered from the base of the oak. He next improvised a leash from his necktie with which he successfully secured the Labrador.

  ‘Watson, please return our trusty ally to Pinchin Lane. I shall make one last enquiry before rejoining you and our client at Baker Street.’ Without another word Holmes turned and began making his way up the side of the dell with the reluctant Goldie in tow.

  Toby proved to be more reluctant to return to his cage in Sherman’s menagerie than he had been to escape it. None the less, I was still able to return to our rooms before either Lestrade or Carlton Clarke and, most surprisingly it appeared, Sherlock Holmes. That mystery was solved a moment later, though, when his voice rang out from behind his bedroom door.

  ‘A thousand apologies, Watson, yet, as you have observed, I had need to replace almost half of my wardrobe!’ He laughed.

  A moment later he bounded into the room and immediately offered me a Cognac and one of his favourite Indian cigars.

  ‘The satisfactory conclusion to a most unusual and problematic case is cause for a small celebration, would you not say?’ He smiled while applying the flame of a vesta to the tip of my cigar.

  ‘I could reply more definitively if I was to be more enlightened as to the exact details of its conclusion.’ I responded through a column of dark and resinous smoke.

  ‘Quite so and yet, unless I am very much mistaken, the time of your enlightenment is not too far away.’ Holmes was glancing casually through the window and I correctly concluded that our two guests had just arrived at our door. Once our guests had returned to the chairs they had occupied before, Holmes extinguished his cigar and filled his cherrywood from the Persian slipper as a prelude to his dénouement of the case. However it was Lestrade who spoke first.

  ‘I assume, Mr Holmes, that you have summoned us here to offer your sincere apologies to both the disillusioned Mr Clarke and myself.’ He said, still retaining his air of pugnacious confidence.

  ‘I was certain that this would prove to be your inevitable and yet erroneous conclusion, Mr Lestrade!’ Holmes responded whilst intentionally and maliciously omitting the hapless detective’s correct title. ‘You have careered clumsily through this case, basing all of your conclusions upon the evidence thrust into your face, without once standing back to analyse it.