by Rob Nunn
“To any of the great chancelleries of Europe. It is probably speeding on its way thither at the present instant as fast as steam can take it.”
Holmes promised to do what he could, although he admitted that matters may already be past his means. The Secretary of State nodded and walked gravely from the room.
Holmes lit his pipe and sat in silence for some time, lost in deep thought. Watson, knowing not to break in upon Holmes before he roused himself from his reverie, opened the morning’s paper and began to read about a sensational crime committed the night before.
“The situation is desperate, but not hopeless,” Holmes stated from his chair. “Even now, if we could be sure which of the international spies and secret agents have taken it, it is just possible that it has not yet passed out of his hands. After all, it is a question of money with these fellows, and I have the British Treasury behind me. If it’s on the market I’ll buy it - if it means another penny on the income tax. It is conceivable that the fellow might hold it back to see what bids come from this side before he tries his luck on the other. There are only three capable of playing so bold a game; there are Oberstein, La Rothiere, and Eduardo Lucas.” Holmes’ mouth twisted in disgust. “I will see each of them.”
“Is that Eduardo Lucas of Godolphin Street?” Watson asked from his newspaper.
“Yes.”
“You will not see him. He was murdered in his house last night.”
Holmes jumped to his feet and stared down his thin, hawk like nose at the newspaper report that Watson indicated. “Well, Watson, what do you make of this?”
“It is an amazing coincidence.”
“A coincidence! Here is one of the three despicable men whom we had named as possible actors in this drama, and he meets a violent death during the very hours when we know that that drama was being enacted. The odds are enormous against its being a coincidence. No figures could express them. No, my dear Watson, the two events are connected - must be connected. It is for us to find the connection.”
“But now the official police must know all.”
Holmes chuckled. “The police rarely know all. They know all they see at Godolphin Street. They know - and shall know - nothing of Whitehall Terrace. Only we know both events, and can trace the relation between then them.”
“Then you have an idea?”
“It is a capital mistake to theorize in the advance of the facts. We must spend time at Godolphin Street, but must be aware of the regular establishment already there. With Eduardo Lucas lies the solution of our problem, though I must admit that I have not an inkling as to what form it may take. I will while away the morning at Godolphin Street, seeing who is on the case. Perhaps one of the detectives I have helped out in the past. Do stay on guard, my good Watson, and receive any fresh visitors. I’ll join you at lunch if I am able.”
Lunch came and went, and Holmes returned as the lamplighters were working their way down the street. “Did anyone call while I was gone, Watson?” he asked, bursting through the door.
“Only a message from Monty Wolder declaring the Margate job to be a success, and an update that Lynch is nearly finished with his latest assignment. But what have you found out for the Secretary?”
Holmes smiled. “I spent some time observing the scene from afar, when who should I see in charge but our old friend, Lestrade. Appearing to walk by on other casual business, I greeted him and asked what his matters were of late.
“‘A bad case here, Mr. Holmes. Shaping up to be a lover’s quarrel gone wrong,’ he told me
“‘An open and shut case then? Hardly a case to drag you from your perch?’ I ventured.
“‘Hardly. This one is an international incident. Seems this Lucas fellow got a surprise visit from his wife, only she didn’t know that he had a secret life here in London. See, he kept his life in watertight compartments. She told him how she had traced him, reproached him, one thing led to another, and then with a dagger, the end came. Our friends on the Paris force picked her up just now, stark raving mad as she entered back into the country. Before they could get her calm, she told them the whole story. I just now found out about her, though. Was investigating a curious stain on the floor. But now that the mystery is solved, it doesn’t bear much interest.’
“I cajoled him into telling me about the stain of interest, playing up my interest in queer incidents. The carpet had a blood stain on it that did not match where the blood on the floor had been. Seeing that the case was solved as far as he was concerned, I convinced him to letting me have a look at the stains. Now that it was not an active crime scene, Lestrade called his men off and sent them away, saying he would call on them later for reports.
“I entered the house, Lestrade giving me only a few minutes before he would lock the doors and shoo me off. Once alone in the room, I saw the aforementioned stains. I tore back the corner of the carpet to find a hidden compartment in the floor that the inspectors would have seen if they looked closely. Thank heavens they didn’t! But to my dismay, the space was empty. I quickly concealed it and bid Lestrade good day.”
Watson deflated. “So you have not found the missing letter then? I had such high hopes.”
“My story is hardly finished. I worked my way back through the problem. If Lucas had known of the letter, how would he have gotten it out of the Secretary’s house, I pondered. Do you remember how the Secretary described his wife’s despair at hearing of the loss of the letter?”
Watson paused. “I can’t say that I do.”
“Exactly. A man as shaken as he was would most likely have described his wife’s concern along with his. While she undoubtedly would have worried for her husband, he did not say that she was shocked by the theft. Come, friend Watson, the curtain rings up for the last act.”
“You have solved it!”
“Hardly that, Watson, there are some points which are as dark as ever. But we have so much that it will be our own fault if we cannot get the rest. We will go straight to Whitehall Terrace and bring the matter to a head.”
Arriving at the residence of the European Secretary, Holmes asked for the lady of the house, who appeared momentarily.
“May I help you, gentlemen?” she inquired.
“I know, madam, that you are aware of the missing paper from your husband’s dispatch-box. Unfortunately, I have no possible alternative but to make an unsolicited call upon you. I have been commissioned to recover this immensely important paper. I must therefore ask you, madam, to be kind enough to place it in my hands,” Holmes stated.
Looking shocked, the lady responded, “You insult me, sir!”
“Come, come, madam, it is useless. Give up the letter. I am endeavoring to avoid a scandal for the good of the nation, and you are only frustrating my efforts. Give up the letter, and all will be set right. If you will work with me, I can arrange everything. If you work against me, I must expose you.”
The lady paused, clearly considering her options.
“I know that Eduardo Lucas had the document, and that Lucas was murdered last night. The letter is now missing. It is my belief that you gave the man the letter, and then thinking better of it, returned to his house, found him dead, and retrieved the letter for yourself. If I am correct, the matter may still be adjusted. I have no desire to bring trouble to you. My duty ends when I have returned the lost letter to your husband. Take my advice and be frank with me. It is your only chance.”
Seeing that she had been found out, Mrs. Hope quickly told her story to the two men seated in front of her. Eduardo Lucas had compromising letters of hers and used them for blackmail. Lucas knew of the potentate’s letter and had Mrs. Hope take it to him. The rest of the story was as Holmes had stated. Deciding she would rather be shamed than her husband put at risk, she returned to Lucas, only to find him dead, and pulled out the blue envelope he had only recently put into his floorbo
ards. She then fled home, unsure of her next step. Holmes told her to place the letter back into the dispatch-box among her husband’s other papers and bid her good day, asking her not to speak of his visit to anyone, especially her husband.
Once he returned to Baker Street, Holmes dispatched a message to Trelwaney Hope: “All inquiries have turned up dead ends. I encourage you to retrace your steps and search through your papers once more. SH”
Of course, the Secretary found his missing letter and crisis was averted. When Watson asked him why he took the case on when no mention of a reward was given, Holmes looked out the window. “Sometimes, it is best to use your abilities for good, Watson. The problem was an interesting one, and if I am able to deal a blow to traitorous men such as Lucas, I am not only helping my country, but I can sleep easier at night. Plus,” he added, “it could be useful to have a member of the Cabinet in our debt.”
Chapter 4: The Affair is a Tangled One
As 1886 turned into 1887, Holmes’ empire faced a grave threat from a competitor named Baron Maupertuis. Maupertuis, a dashing figure, had evaded authorities in Paris and Berlin before setting his sights on London and all it had to offer him. After succeeding in political and financial schemes abroad, the Baron intended to organize and lord over the criminal class in London. Maupertuis created a shell organization called the Netherland-Sumatra company, stating that it was an international shipping company, and used it to hide his criminal dealings.
Arrogant and cocksure, the Baron did nothing to hide his ambition from the public, almost reveling in the international reputation as a master schemer that the London papers had painted him with upon his arrival to London society. The press reported breathlessly of his nightly engagements at balls and musical performances, speculating wildly which society belle would be seen on his arm next. Although many were aware of his sullied reputation abroad, the younger members of society were caught up in his debonair manner and disregarded his past as well, as he entertained them each night.
With his public persona garnering attention and the Netherland-Sumatra Company in place, Maupertuis began his rise in the underworld, moving swiftly from street-level crimes to financial swindling and political blackmail. Every criminal activity was handled so deftly that no paper trail existed to connect him back to any wrongdoing. Only whispers of his involvement lingered, adding to his already dangerous and romantic reputation.
As he had shown with Reginald Matthews, Holmes did not actively seek out confrontation with other criminal organizations. Knowing that many operators created their own downfall, Holmes often allowed events to play out. In other cases, the time would come when the operators would have to be dealt with or absorbed into his own. Holmes was well aware of the Netherland-Sumatra Company and followed it through the newspapers and continuous reports from his agents in the underworld, but did not engage with it during its meteoric rise. Maupertuis’ rise through the criminal underworld of London was so quick and easy, that he did not take into account the possibility of another organizing force in criminal London. Within months of his arrival in the city, Maupertuis’ cavalier actions showed that he felt that he was the only organizing force behind London’s criminal enterprises.
Holmes’ and Maupertuis’ two forces finally crossed paths on a day when Holmes and Watson were off in Trincomalee, clearing up a mess made by two brothers in his employ. While out of town, Holmes had some of his most trusted employees substituting a forged painting at Darlington Castle so that the original could be sold to an unscrupulous art dealer. Unbeknownst to Holmes, Maupertuis’ agents were on their way to Darlington Castle that same night to demand payment in a current blackmail scheme.
The lady of the house refused to pay and ordered her servants to block Maupertuis’ agents from leaving the property. The whole estate lit into an uproar, and Holmes’ employees were barely able to escape with the stolen painting in time. The local police were called in and an investigation was launched, which of course did not lead back to the Baron. But Holmes knew that it was finally time to deal with his rival.
It was a cold morning of the early spring, and Holmes and Watson sat after breakfast on either side of a cheery fire in Baker Street. A thick fog rolled down between the lines of houses, through which the opposing windows loomed like dark, shapeless blurs through the heavy yellow wreaths. Holmes had been silent all morning, dipping continuously into the advertisement columns of a succession of papers until at last he emerged in no very sweet temper to discuss the previous night’s near catastrophe.
“Watson, I am afraid that I will have to suspend any further projects for the time being. Let the employees know that their regular payments will continue and that I will need their talents in the future, but for a foreseeable time, I will have a larger matter which will require all of my attention,” Holmes gravely stated.
Watson lowered his newspaper. “The Netherland-Sumatra Company finally has to be dealt with, doesn’t it?”
Holmes sighed. “I’m afraid it does. I had hoped that the Baron’s colossal schemes would lead to his capture by the authorities, but his brazen behavior is matched by his ability to distance himself from his crimes. The matter at Darlington Castle proved that the time has come to act. We were not caught in our work, but knowing that he and I had targeted the same estate only proves that his crimes interfere with mine. Luckily, his egocentric behavior hasn’t allowed him to look closely enough to know of my organization, which is to my advantage.”
“I am amazed that Maupertuis is unaware of our agency.”
“To someone like the Baron, there is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.”
“I am happy to help, Holmes. You only need to give me my orders.”
“This is a path I must take alone, Watson. I don’t doubt your willingness to help, but I will need to become a student once again and learn a new trade. Your position will be to keep the wheels turning in our little family. Take care of any correspondence and payments due. If any opportunities arise, assess if they are worth discussing when I am ready. Although business will stop for now, I will still need a steady hand at the tiller.”
Puffing out his chest slightly, Watson replied, “Or course. But how will you become a student again? Surely you don’t mean returning to university?”
“Hardly,” Holmes said as he scratched off a note. “I will also need you to deliver this to Mr. Michael Sasanoff. He will be staying at Grand Hotel.”
“Sasanoff, the actor?”
“Yes. It has long been an axiom of mine that education never ends. And now it is time that I learned the art of disguises.”
Swayed by Holmes’ generous payments, Sasanoff tutored Holmes day and night on acting for the following weeks. Surprised by his student’s quick learning, Sasanoff was able to begin discussing costuming and posture with Holmes, who soaked up every bit of information like a sponge. Once his crash course was complete, Sasanoff offered Holmes a position in his touring company, but Holmes declined, citing more pressing matters in London. So great was Holmes’ new ability Sasanoff mused that the stage truly lost a great actor that day.
Over the next two months, Holmes took on many different personalities, all while gathering incriminating evidence against Baron Maupertuis. From a common loafer and a sailor to a gentleman of leisure and even an old woman, Holmes toiled away every day with this fresh weapon in his arsenal. Working at least fifteen hours a day, and sometimes for five days at a stretch, Holmes methodically built up his case against Maupertuis, right under the Baron’s nose, slowly linking known criminals to the Baron, and twice even finding documentation that incriminated him in schemes.
Unbeknownst to Maupertuis, his employees were quietly disappearing from London. Holmes had arranged for them to be hidden away in hamlets all throughout the countryside until he was ready to strike. Confessions were collected in these men’s and women’s handwriting, while Holmes investigated the B
aron’s crime scenes, looking for evidence that could be traced back to him. Using his special knowledge of tobacco ashes, Holmes was able to pronounce the ash found at one scene to be that of an Indian cigar favored by a well-known associate of the Baron. And zinc and copper filings found at another spot were used to run down a coiner who was easily persuaded to confess his employment by Maupertuis.
Finally, after his immense exertions, Holmes disappeared from London and a large parcel was delivered to Scotland Yard. Within hours of its delivery, a swarm of officers rounded up Baron Maupertuis and his lead associates. Maupteruis’ hidden agents were returned to London and confessed their crimes, making sure to incriminate the Baron in everything they spoke of. The European press rang with praise for the anonymous man who single-handedly brought down the most accomplished swindler in Europe.
But the task had taken its toll on Holmes. After the Netherland-Sumatra Company had been dissolved, Watson waited for days to hear from his friend. After a week of patience, on April 14, Watson received a telegram from Lyons, France, calling him to the Hotel Dulong. Within twenty-four hours, Watson was beside his friend and was relieved to find nothing serious in Holmes’ symptoms, although his iron constitution had broken down under the strain of his crusade against Maupertuis. He found Holmes prey to the blackest depression. Even knowing that he had succeeded where the police of three countries had failed, and that he had outmaneuvered Maupertuis at every point, was insufficient to rouse Holmes from his nervous prostration.
Watson poured his friend a glass of brandy and water. “Surely, you must understand what you have accomplished, Holmes,” he ventured. “Not only have you put a stop to a criminal force that would impede your own, but you have done England, and all of Europe a great favor.”
“What you say is true, my friend, but knowing that such an upstart could force my work to stop in such a drastic manner and for such a long period is insufferable to me. I confess that my arrogance allowed the Baron’s schemes to exist for too long, but it is better to learn wisdom late than never learn it at all. I know that I must return to London and resume activity, but the strain of the past two months has been a great one.”