Sherlock Holmes (37 page)

Holmes had taken out his glass
and was closely examining the safe. "Yes, without the keys, opening
this safe undetected, would have been indeed problematical."
Looking about him, Holmes suddenly dropped onto all fours. "Hello,
what have we here?" Reaching into his waistcoat pocket, Holmes took
out his Vesta case and struck a match. Holding the match before
him, he reached down and picked up a tiny object that had seemingly
become lodged between the safe and the wooden floorboards.

Craning my neck, I asked, "What
is it? Holmes"

Holmes smiled and blew out the
match, saying, "I believe it would be better if we were to move
more into the daylight, Watson, before I can confirm my find."

With that, we retraced our steps
and soon stood once more outside the carriage. Holmes held out his
hand and in his palm was what appeared to be a small, round bead. I
was still no wiser, asking, "How is this bead important,
Holmes?"

Holmes took a small envelope
from his coat pocket and placed the item carefully within it. "I
believe that it is immensely important, Watson. It tells me why the
robbery has not, as yet, been detected. Tell me, Watson. Which
metal is similar in weight to gold?"

I did not hesitate, saying,
"Lead... it is a piece of lead shot!"

Holmes nodded. "Quite so. The
thieves would have brought with them weighing scales and sufficient
lead shot to match the weight of the gold. Once the safe was opened
with the duplicate keys, the gold would have been removed, weighed
and then the equivalent weight of shot measured out." Holmes patted
his coat pocket, saying, "This small piece of shot must have been
lost during the weighing process. I must send a telegram to Mycroft
to determine whether the supposed gold has left for South
Africa."

With that, Holmes and I hastened
back to the station where a telegram was urgently despatched to
Mycroft. With little further to be done and, after my morning's
exercise, I was looking forwards to a hearty luncheon and a little
respite back at Baker Street.

It was early afternoon before we
received a reply from Mycroft. Fortunately for His Majesty's
Government, the ship had not yet sailed. The small wooden boxes
which should have contained the sovereigns had been removed from
the Purser's safe and opened to reveal their contents. As we had
feared, they were filled with lead shot. The Government had lost
the gold but had avoided the supreme embarrassment that would have
ensued had the substitution only been discovered once the ship had
docked in Durban.

Holmes was sitting back in his
chair, deep in thought. "You know, Watson, this theft had been
planned meticulously. The lead shot must have been loaded onto the
train as goods in order for it to travel in the secure carriage.
During the journey it would have been opened, weighed out and
exchanged for the gold."

I considered this for a moment
before asking, "What of Tindall? Do you believe that he was
involved in this?"

Holmes’ eyes narrowed. "I think
probably not. The thieves would want to conceal their activities
from him so he was probably made to leave the carriage whilst they
opened the safe and made the exchange." Holmes paused, his
forefinger now against his lips. "I believe, Watson, that now is
the time to have a further conversation with Mr Tindall for he has
become the key to this case."

Holmes rose and gathered his
coat, saying, "Come along, Watson. Bow Street awaits us!"

In truth, I would have preferred
to rest a little but it was not to be. Soon we were on our way,
travelling the busy streets of the metropolis. As we went, I asked,
"Tell me, Holmes, how do you intend to use Tindall?"

Holmes smiled, saying, "Moriarty
will be acutely aware that, as there has been no second explosion,
Tindall still lives."

I nodded... but I was still
puzzled. "Surely she cannot be concerned that Tindall could
identify just the one man who recruited him?"

Holmes wagged his finger. "No,
Watson. It is not this aspect that concerns her. I believe that she
was fully expecting that the theft would only be discovered when
the boxes were opened in South Africa. That being the case, the
Government would be unsure as to how, where and, indeed, when the
theft had taken place. The more time that passed before discovery,
the more difficult it would be to investigate the theft."

Now I understood. "Ah... the
threat that Tindall might reveal the theft before the ship sails
may now drive her to ensure his silence."

Holmes smiled grimly. "Quite so,
Watson. He will be as a magnet, drawing them to him... and we will
use this to our advantage."

The cab stopped outside Bow
Street Police Station. Once again I was awed by the grandeur of
this fine, Georgian building constructed from lustrous, cream,
Portland stone. It had been erected for a little over twenty years
now and its style mirrored that of the Royal Opera House, across
the street. Once inside, and with a word to the desk sergeant, we
were swiftly taken to the cell that held William Tindall. Outside
the cell there was a small blackboard fixed to the wall upon which
had been chalked the prisoner’s name and below it, the words, ‘No
contact’.

A constable unlocked the iron
clad cell door, saying, “Just shout when you are done, sir.” Holmes
nodded and, as he turned to face Tindall, the door closed with an
ominous ‘clang’.

Tindall looked wretched and
jumped at the sound of the door closing. He sat on a straw filled
mattress placed on an iron bed frame that was bolted to the floor.
Light came into the cell through a small, square window made up of
four rows of thick, glass blocks, set high up on the outside
wall.

Holmes pulled out the single
chair that graced the cell, saying, “I think you may have to get
used to that sound, Mr Tindall, as you will hear it for, perhaps,
the rest of your life.”

Tindall looked up. He seemed to
be in deep despair, realising that he had little hope of ever again
being a free man. In truth, I felt some compassion for him. He had
been offered a way of keeping his family from being thrown into the
workhouse and he had succumbed. Holmes, I think, had also seen this
fellow as not being inherently evil, just weak and given to
temptation.

Holmes continued. “We were not
introduced when we first met. I am Sherlock Holmes and this is my
companion, Dr Watson. We wish to ask you some questions and have a
proposition for you. It may save your life and, perhaps, even
shorten your prison sentence.”

On hearing this I saw, for the
first time, a glimmer of hope appear upon his face. “I’ll do
anything, sir. Just ask.” He pleaded.

Holmes leant forwards, asking,
“Tell me about your journey of the eleventh.”

Tindall sat up a little
straighter and began thus. “Well, sir, our outward journey had been
from Liverpool Street to Norwich. Before we set out, the man who
had paid me the five sovereigns appears at the freight door of the
carriage with a porter. On the porter’s barrow were two large
wooden boxes, heavy they were, it took both of us to lift them into
the carriage. Nothing happened on the outward journey but when we
reached the terminus at Norwich, a platoon of armed soldiers
appeared with a wheeled trolley. It had five small wooden boxes on
it.”

Holmes interrupted, asking, “Did
you know what was in the boxes?”

Tindall shook his head, saying,
“No sir. I could see that it was heavy and must be valuable, so I
guessed it might be gold. Anyways, the Station Manager from Norwich
comes along and he uses his key and I uses mine to open the safe.
The soldiers put all five boxes inside and we locks it again using
the two keys. We sets off and after about half an hour, the man
from Liverpool Street appears at the door to the carriage. He tells
me that he thinks it’s time for me to check some tickets for twenty
minutes. He also shows me the pistol that he has tucked into the
waistband of his trousers. So off I went, leaving him to his
business.”

I was intrigued, asking, “So,
you never saw what happened?”

Tindall shook his head, saying,
“No, sir. When I got back he had gone and I could see no difference
in the carriage. Nothing seemed amiss except my old sweeping brush
had been moved from the corner where I keeps it.”

Holmes nodded, asking, “What
happened when you arrived at Liverpool Street?”

Tindall seemed now to have
perked up a little. “Well sir, when I opened the sliding freight
door, the Station Master was waiting on the platform with another
platoon of armed soldiers. The Station Master uses his key and I
uses mine and I opens the safe. As far as I could see, all was as
before. The five boxes were loaded onto a cart by the soldiers and
it was wheeled away. A few minutes later the man from the train
appears again but this time he had a lady on his arm. They had a
porter with them and between us, we loaded the man’s two boxes onto
his trolley and they left.”

Holmes sat forwards, asking
eagerly, “This lady, can you describe her?”

Tindall thought for a moment.
“Well sir, she was aged about forty years and she had striking red
hair. She was dressed as a fine lady… but that’s all I can
remember.”

Holmes looked directly into the
eyes of Tindall and asked, “Can you swear to me that you played no
active part in the robbery itself?”

Tindall did not flinch, saying,
“Yes, sir, I can!”

Holmes thought for a moment
before looking again at Tindall. “I think, Mr Tindall, that I may
be able to save you from the gallows but I cannot promise. I need
you to cooperate with me in order to help your case and to try and
catch the thieves. Are you willing?”

Tindall’s reply was immediate.
“Yes, sir. Anything, anything!”

Holmes nodded before shouting
loudly, “Constable, we are done here!”

Within moments, the cell door
opened and, with a nod to Tindall and the constable, we left.

As we walked down the steps from
Bow Street, I said, “So Moriarty was there to meet the train?”

Holmes nodded. “Yes, she wanted
to have eyes on her gold. We must make plans, Watson. I must speak
to Mycroft so that he might exert a little influence on Lestrade to
release Tindall into my custody. At the moment, Moriarty is unaware
of his arrest. We must somehow let her think that there is a way to
bribe Tindall into silence.”

As we stood and waited for a
cab, I thought about what Holmes had said, asking, “Will that not
be dangerous for Tindall?”

Holmes had a grim look upon his
face as he said, “Perhaps, but not as dangerous as a hangman’s
noose, Watson!”

We arrived back in Baker Street
in time for a fine dinner of grilled lamb chops followed by a slice
from one of Mrs Hudson’s steamed, sponge puddings, which was served
with vanilla custard.

Sitting back, replete, with our
first pipe of the evening, I thought back to William Tindall and
raised a point with Holmes, saying, “As there has been no second
explosion, Moriarty will have been to Liverpool Street to search
for Tindall. I was wondering whether, perhaps, his absence from
work might be accounted for by his going into hiding after he had
opened the bag and found the bomb.”

Holmes had his eyes slightly
closed and seemed to be considering my suggestion. Blowing out a
thin stream of blue tobacco smoke he nodded, saying, “Yes, that
would be a plausible explanation, Watson. It is how we make contact
with Moriarty that troubles me.” Holmes was silent for perhaps two
minutes before continuing, “Perhaps… perhaps a way might be to put
a small announcement in ‘The Times’, saying that Tindall had sought
my protection. Moriarty would undoubtedly find it irresistible! I
must pen my notice with care, Watson.”

Holmes moved to his desk and
took up a sheet of writing paper and a pen. He sat and smoked for
perhaps some ten minutes whilst making corrections and improvements
to the text before finally sitting back, satisfied.

"What do you think of this,
Watson?" asked Holmes. "Mr William Tindall is thankfully safe and
well, chaperoned by those at 221b. He wishes to discuss an unpaid
account and desires a mutually beneficial meeting."

I thought for a moment and,
whilst agreeing with the majority of the content, I was still
concerned. "That should bring her from her lair, Holmes, but it
gives her the choice of venue for the meeting."

Holmes nodded, saying, "That is
true… but it has to be somewhere that is agreeable to both parties.
If we are not satisfied, we do not have to agree."

Holmes now set about making a
clean copy of the text. This he placed in an envelope and then rang
the bell for Mrs Hudson.

The following morning I was
eager to scan the personal column of 'The Times' but I found that
Holmes was already seated in his leather armchair with his head
buried in the paper. Hearing my entrance into the room, Holmes
called out, "Well, the bait is in the water, Watson. We will have
to pay out a little line and see who bites!"

Indeed, we did not have long to
wait. In the afternoon our doorbell rang, followed a few moments
later by Mrs Hudson entering our rooms holding a letter. She handed
it to Holmes, saying, "This was delivered by hand, just now, sir,
by some surly brute who would not give a name. He said that you
would be expecting it."

Holmes smiled sweetly, saying,
"Thank you, Mrs Hudson, indeed I was."

Holmes did not open the letter
immediately. Taking out his glass, he examined the envelope
minutely. I could see that the name 'Mr Sherlock Holmes' had been
written across the front of the envelope in a hand that I was
becoming uncomfortably familiar with.