by David Marcum
“That isn’t likely,” Holmes replied. “An ordinary burglar, ignorant of its value, wouldn’t have gone straight to the cameo and have taken it in preference to many other things of more apparent worth, which must be lying near in such a place as Claridge’s.”
“True - I suppose he wouldn’t. Although the police seem to think that the breaking in is clearly the work of a regular criminal - from the jimmy-marks, you know, and so on.”
“Well, but what of the two people you think Mr. Claridge suspects?”
“Of course I can’t say that he does suspect them - I only fancied from his tone that it might be possible; he himself insists that he can’t, in justice, suspect anybody. One of these men is Hahn, the traveling agent who sold him the cameo. This man’s character does not appear to be absolutely irreproachable; no dealer trusts him very far. Of course Claridge doesn’t say what he paid him for the cameo; these dealers are very reticent about their profits, which I believe are as often something like five hundred per cent as not. But it seems Hahn bargained to have something extra, depending on the amount Claridge could sell the carving for. According to the appointment he should have turned up this morning, but he hasn’t been seen, and nobody seems to know exactly where he is.”
“Yes; and the other person?”
“Well, I scarcely like mentioning him, because he is certainly a gentleman, and I believe, in the ordinary way, quite incapable of anything in the least degree dishonorable; although, of course, they say a collector has no conscience in the matter of his own particular hobby, and certainly Mr. Wollett is as keen a collector as any man alive. He lives in chambers in the next turning past Claridge’s premises - can, in fact, look into Claridge’s back windows if he likes. He examined the cameo several times before I bought it, and made several high offers - appeared, in fact, very anxious indeed to get it. After I had bought it he made, I understand, some rather strong remarks about people like myself ‘spoiling the market’ by paying extravagant prices, and altogether cut up ‘crusty,’ as they say, at losing the specimen.” Lord Stanway paused a few seconds, and then went on: “I’m not sure that I ought to mention Mr. Woollett’s name for a moment in connection with such a matter; I am personally perfectly certain that he is as incapable of anything like theft as myself. But I am telling you all I know.”
“Precisely. I can’t know too much in a case like this. It can do no harm if I know all about fifty innocent people, and may save me from the risk of knowing nothing about the thief. Now, let me see: Mr. Wollett’s rooms, you say, are near Mr. Claridge’s place of business? Is there any means of communication between the roofs?”
“Yes, I am told that it is perfectly possible to get from one place to the other by walking along the leads.”
“Very good! Then, unless you can think of any other information that may help me, I think, Lord Stanway, I will go at once and look at the place.”
“Do, by all means. I think I’ll come back with you. Somehow, I don’t like to feel idle in the matter, though I suppose I can’t do much. As to more information, I don’t think there is any.”
“In regard to Mr. Claridge’s assistant, now: Do you know anything of him?”
“Only that he has always seemed a very civil and decent sort of man. Honest, I should say, or Claridge wouldn’t have kept him so many years - there are a good many valuable things about at Claridge’s. Besides, the man has keys of the place himself, and, even if he were a thief, he wouldn’t need to go breaking in through the roof.”
“So that,” said Holmes, “we have, directly connected with this cameo, besides yourself, these people: Mr. Claridge, the dealer; Mr. Cutler, the assistant in Mr. Claridge’s business; Hahn, who sold the article to Claridge, and Mr. Woollett, who made bids for it. These are all?”
“All that I know of. Other gentlemen made bids, I believe, but I don’t know them.”
“Take these people in their order. Mr. Claridge is out of the question, as a dealer with a reputation to keep up would be, even if he hadn’t immediately sent you this five thousand pounds - more than the market value, I understand, of the cameo. The assistant is a reputable man, against whom nothing is known, who would never need to break in, and who must understand his business well enough to know that he could never attempt to sell the missing stone without instant detection. Hahn is a man of shady antecedents, probably clever enough to know as well as anybody how to dispose of such plunder - if it be possible to dispose of it at all; also, Hahn hasn’t been to Claridge’s to-day, although he had an appointment to take money. Lastly, Mr. Woollett is a gentleman of the most honorable record, but a perfectly rabid collector, who had made every effort to secure the cameo before you bought it; who, moreover, could have seen Mr. Claridge working in his back room, and who has perfectly easy access to Mr. Claridge’s roof. If we find it can’t be none of these, then we must look where circumstances indicate.”
There was unwonted excitement at Mr. Claridge’s place when Holmes and his client arrived. It was a dull old building, and in the windows there was never more show than an odd blue china vase or two, or, mayhap, a few old silver shoe-buckles and a curious small sword. Nine men out of ten would have passed it without a glance; but the tenth at least would probably know it for a place famous through the world for the number and value of the old and curious objects of art that had passed through it.
On this day two or three loiterers, having heard of the robbery, extracted what gratification they might from staring at nothing between the railings guarding the windows. Within, Mr. Claridge, a brisk, stout, little old man, was talking earnestly to a burly police-inspector in uniform, and Mr. Cutler, who had seized the opportunity to attempt amateur detective work on his own account, was groveling perseveringly about the floor, among old porcelain and loose pieces of armor, in the futile hope of finding any clue that the thieves might have considerately dropped.
Mr. Claridge came forward eagerly.
“The leather case has been found, I am pleased to be able to tell you, Lord Stanway, since you left.”
“Empty, of course?”
“Unfortunately, yes. It had evidently been thrown away by the thief behind a chimney-stack a roof or two away, where the police have found it. But it is a clue, of course.”
“Ah, then this gentleman will give me his opinion of it,” Lord Stanway said, turning to Holmes. “This, Mr. Claridge, is Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who has been kind enough to come with me here at a moment’s notice. With the police on the one hand and Mr. Holmes on the other we shall certainly recover that cameo, if it is to be recovered, I think.”
Mr. Claridge bowed, and beamed on Holmes through his spectacles. “I’m very glad Mr. Holmes has come,” he said. “Indeed, I had already decided to give the police till this time to-morrow, and then, if they had found nothing, to call in Mr. Holmes myself.”
Holmes bowed in his turn, and then asked: “Will you let me see the various breakages? I hope they have not been disturbed.”
“Nothing whatever has been disturbed. Do exactly as seems best. I need scarcely say that everything here is perfectly at your disposal. You know all the circumstances, of course?”
“In general, yes. I suppose I am right in the belief that you have no resident housekeeper?”
“No,” Claridge replied, “I haven’t. I had one housekeeper who sometimes pawned my property in the evening, and then another who used to break my most valuable china, till I could never sleep or take a moment’s ease at home for fear my stock was being ruined here. So I gave up resident housekeepers. I felt some confidence in doing it because of the policeman who is always on duty opposite.”
“Can I see the broken desk?”
Mr. Claridge led the way into the room behind the shop. The desk was really a sort of work-table, with a lifting top and a lock. The top had been forced roughly open by some instrument which had been pushed in below it an
d used as a lever, so that the catch of the lock was torn away. Holmes examined the damaged parts and the marks of the lever, and then looked out at the back window.
“There are several windows about here,” he remarked, “from which it might be possible to see into this room. Do you know any of the people who live behind them?”
“Two or three I know,” Mr. Claridge answered, “but there are two windows - the pair almost immediately before us - belonging to a room or office which is to let. Any stranger might get in there and watch.”
“Do the roofs above any of those windows communicate in any way with yours?”
“None of those directly opposite. Those at the left do; you may walk all the way along the leads.”
“And whose windows are they?”
Mr. Claridge hesitated. “Well,” he said, “they’re Mr. Woollett’s, an excellent customer of mine. But he’s a gentleman, and - well, I really think it’s absurd to suspect him.”
“In a case like this,” Holmes answered, “one must disregard nothing but the impossible. Somebody - whether Mr. Woollett himself or another person - could possibly have seen into this room from those windows, and equally possibly could have reached this room from that one. Therefore we must not forget Mr. Woollett. Have any of your neighbors been burgled during the night? I mean that strangers anxious to get at your trap-door would probably have to begin by getting into some other house close by, so as to reach your roof.”
“No,” Mr. Claridge replied; “there has been nothing of that sort. It was the first thing the police ascertained.”
Holmes examined the broken door and then made his way up the stairs with the others. The unscrewed lock of the door of the top back-room required little examination. In the room below the trap-door was a dusty table on which stood a chair, and at the other side of the table sat Detective-Inspector Plummer, whom Holmes knew very well, and who bade him “good-day” and then went on with his docket.
“This chair and table were found as they are now, I take it?” Holmes asked.
“Yes,” said Mr. Claridge; “the thieves, I should think, dropped in through the trap-door, after breaking it open, and had to place this chair where it is to be able to climb back.”
Holmes scrambled up through the trap-way and examined it from the top. The door was hung on long external barn-door hinges, and had been forced open in a similar manner to that practiced on the desk. A jimmy had been pushed between the frame and the door near the bolt, and the door had been pried open, the bolt being torn away from the screws in the operation.
Presently Inspector Plummer, having finished his docket, climbed up to the roof after Holmes, and the two together went to the spot, close under a chimney-stack on the next roof but one, where the case had been found. Plummer produced the case, which he had in his coat-tail pocket, for Holmes’s inspection.
“I don’t see anything particular about it; do you?” he said. “It shows us the way they went, though, being found just here.”
“Well, yes,” Holmes said; “if we kept on in this direction, we should be going toward Mr. Woollett’s house, and his trap-door, shouldn’t we!”
The inspector pursed his lips, smiled, and shrugged his shoulders. “Of course we haven’t waited till now to find that out,” he said.
“No, of course. And, as you say, I didn’t think there is much to be learned from this leather case. It is almost new, and there isn’t a mark on it.” And Holmes handed it back to the inspector.
“Well,” said Plummer, as he returned the case to his pocket, “what’s your opinion?”
“It’s rather an awkward case.”
“Yes, it is. Between ourselves - I don’t mind telling you - I’m having a sharp lookout kept over there” - Plummer jerked his head in the direction of Mr. Woollett’s chambers - “because the robbery’s an unusual one. There’s only two possible motives - the sale of the cameo or the keeping of it. The sale’s out of the question, as you know; the thing’s only salable to those who would collar the thief at once, and who wouldn’t have the thing in their places now for anything. So that it must be taken to keep, and that’s a thing nobody but the maddest of collectors would do, just such persons as - ” and the inspector nodded again toward Mr. Woollett’s quarters. “Take that with the other circumstances,” he added, “and I think you’ll agree it’s worth while looking a little farther that way. Of course some of the work - taking off the lock and so on - looks rather like a regular burglar, but it’s just possible that any one badly wanting the cameo would like to hire a man who was up to the work.”
“Yes, it’s possible.”
“Do you know anything of Hahn, the agent?” Plummer asked, a moment later.
“No, I don’t. Have you found him yet?”
“I haven’t yet, but I’m after him. I’ve found he was at Charing Cross a day or two ago, booking a ticket for the Continent. That and his failing to turn up to-day seem to make it worth while not to miss him if we can help it. He isn’t the sort of man that lets a chance of drawing a bit of money go for nothing.”
They returned to the room. “Well,” said Lord Stanway, “what’s the result of the consultation? We’ve been waiting here very patiently, while you two clever men have been discussing the matter on the roof.”
On the wall just beneath the trap-door a very dusty old tall hat hung on a peg. This Holmes took down and examined very closely, smearing his fingers with the dust from the inside lining. “Is this one of your valuable and crusted old antiques?” he asked, with a smile, of Mr. Claridge.
“That’s only an old hat that I used to keep here for use in bad weather,” Mr. Claridge said, with some surprise at the question. “I haven’t touched it for a year or more.”
“Oh, then it couldn’t have been left here by your last night’s visitor,” Holmes replied, carelessly replacing it on the hook. “You left here at eight last night, I think?”
“Eight exactly - or within a minute or two.”
“Just so. I think I’ll look at the room on the opposite side of the landing, if you’ll let me.”
“Certainly, if you’d like to,” Claridge replied; “but they haven’t been there - it is exactly as it was left. Only a lumber-room, you see,” he concluded, flinging the door open.
A number of partly broken-up packing-cases littered about this room, with much other rubbish. Holmes took the lid of one of the newest-looking packing-cases, and glanced at the address label. Then he turned to a rusty old iron box that stood against a wall. “I should like to see behind this,” he said, tugging at it with his hands. “It is heavy and dirty. Is there a small crowbar about the house, or some similar lever?”
Mr. Claridge shook his head. “Haven’t such a thing in the place,” he said.
“Never mind,” Holmes replied, “another time will do to shift that old box, and perhaps, after all, there’s little reason for moving it. I will just walk round to the police-station, I think, and speak to the constables who were on duty opposite during the night. I think, Lord Stanway, I have seen all that is necessary here.”
“I suppose,” asked Mr. Claridge, “it is too soon yet to ask if you have formed any theory in the matter?”
“Well - yes, it is,” Holmes answered. “But perhaps I may be able to surprise you in an hour or two; but that I don’t promise. By the by,” he added suddenly, “I suppose you’re sure the trap-door was bolted last night?”
“Certainly,” Mr. Claridge answered, smiling. “Else how could the bolt have been broken? As a matter of fact, I believe the trap hasn’t been opened for months. Mr. Cutler, do you remember when the trap-door was last opened?”
Mr. Cutler shook his head. “Certainly not for six months,” he said.
“Ah, very well; it’s not very important,” Holmes replied.
As they reached the front shop a fiery-faced old gentl
eman bounced in at the street door, stumbling over an umbrella that stood in a dark corner, and kicking it three yards away.
“What the deuce do you mean,” he roared at Mr. Claridge, “by sending these police people smelling about my rooms and asking questions of my servants? What do you mean, sir, by treating me as a thief? Can’t a gentleman come into this place to look at an article without being suspected of stealing it, when it disappears through your wretched carelessness? I’ll ask my solicitor, sir, if there isn’t a remedy for this sort of thing. And if I catch another of your spy fellows on my staircase, or crawling about my roof, I’ll - I’ll shoot him!”
“Really, Mr. Woollett - ” began Mr. Claridge, somewhat abashed, but the angry old man would hear nothing.
“Don’t talk to me, sir; you shall talk to my solicitor. And am I to understand, my lord” - turning to Lord Stanway - “that these things are being done with your approval?”
“Whatever is being done,” Lord Stanway answered, “is being done by the police on their own responsibility, and entirely without prompting, I believe, by Mr. Claridge - certainly without a suggestion of any sort from myself. I think that the personal opinion of Mr. Claridge - certainly my own - is that anything like a suspicion of your position in this wretched matter is ridiculous. And if you will only consider the matter calmly - ”
“Consider it calmly? Imagine yourself considering such a thing calmly, Lord Stanway. I won’t consider it calmly. I’ll - I’ll - I won’t have it. And if I find another man on my roof, I’ll pitch him off!” And Mr. Woollett bounced into the street again.
“Mr. Woollett is annoyed,” Holmes observed, with a smile. “I’m afraid Plummer has a clumsy assistant somewhere.”
Mr. Claridge said nothing, but looked rather glum, for Mr. Woollett was a most excellent customer.