Sherlock Holmes and the Queen of Diamonds (10 page)

CHAPTER 13

Stick-Up!

T
he new day’s business was already under way, and the Square Mile – that district at the very heart of London dominated by the city’s financial institutions – was bustling. Office workers hurried to and fro, dodging omnibus, growler and hansom cab alike in order to cross from one side of the narrow cobbled streets to the other, and sweepers were already out in force, fighting their never-ending battle to keep the streets clean of manure.

The pace of life was frantic and noisy, as befitted the capital of the world’s trade and commerce. Consequently, few people paid much attention to the five riders dressed in buttoned-up cotton dusters and dark, wide-brimmed Stetsons riding their horses casually along Jewry Street. They eventually dismounted – two more expertly than the rest – outside the city branch of the Crosbie & Shears bank.

As four of these men passed their reins to the fifth, a little man who kept sniffing and wiping his runny nose, their eyes seemed to be everywhere at once. Although the morning was bright and dry, the street was bathed in shadows, for the sun rarely found its way down between the tall, red-brick
buildings
to ground level. After some moments the leader gave an authoritative nod. As one, all but the designated
horse-handler
covered their faces with neckerchiefs and entered the bank.

As they burst through the doors into the large, ornate main room, dusters flapping around their calves, boots
clattering
over the tiled floor, clerks and customers whirled around in surprise.

Drawing revolvers, the robbers covered everyone.

‘You,’ the leader snarled at the customers, ‘get down on your faces!’

Panicked, they obeyed, the women among them screaming. One, an elderly matron, paled and stood there a moment, close to fainting. The men stiffened. One of them took a defiant step toward the robbers. The leader
pistol-whipped
him, sending him sprawling.

‘Next one of you don’t do like I say gets a bullet!’ the leader growled. ‘Now, all of you – on the floor, goddammit!’

As the customers obeyed, the leader turned to the startled cashiers standing behind the counter with their hands up. ‘You fellers hand over all your paper money and nobody gets hurt, understand?’

Some of the cashiers nervously nodded, others stared wide-eyed at the robbers. For another long moment no one moved. The leader raised his weapon and aimed it at the nearest clerk, a thin-faced young man with oiled black hair and dark eyes. ‘You
hear
me, jerk-head?’

The clerk stared back at him, suddenly showing more anger than fear. He started to protest, but before he could say anything the manager appeared from a doorway behind 
him. ‘Do as he says, Martin!’ he ordered. ‘You other fellows as well!’

Immediately the cashiers emptied out their cash drawers. The other gang members stepped over the prostrate customers and produced gunnysacks into which the money was dropped.

The leader looked toward the doorway. Outside, the
horse-handler
was still checking the street in both directions and occasionally wiping his nose.

So far their luck was holding.

‘Hurry it up, you morons!’

The robbers grabbed the now-filled gunnysacks and hurried to the front door. The leader, guns still covering the customers and bank staff, slowly backed up after them.

‘We’re goin’ now, folks. Anybody tries to follow us gets a ticket to hell.’

As he turned to leave, one of his men whispered loudly: ‘Wait! What about the safe, Jesse?’

‘Shut up, you fool!’ the leader hissed. ‘Now they all know who I am!’

The man cringed, as if fearing a bullet, and ducked out through the doors. The other men quickly followed.

Alone, the leader gave a mocking salute to the customers and bank staff. ‘The James boys thank you, ladies an’ gents!’

Taking aim at the big crystal chandelier hanging from the centre of the domed ceiling, he fired twice. The
chandelier
shuddered as the bullets broke the chains and then dropped to the tiled floor, shattering on impact. Crystal shards flew in every direction, bringing more screams from the women. 

A moment later the leader was gone, vaulting in to his saddle and riding off with his men.

It was lunchtime when Watson bustled into their Baker Street lodgings. ‘Holmes,’ he exclaimed, joining his friend at the window. ‘Holmes, you’ll never believe what’s happened!’

‘The bank robbery, you mean?’

Deflated, Watson threw his copies of
The Times
and the
Graphic
on to a chair. ‘You’ve already seen the papers, I take it?’

‘No. But as you will observe, the window is open and I have heard the cries of the paperboys selling their wares. I have only been awaiting your return so that we might deal with the matter together.’

‘Well, you don’t seem at all surprised.’

‘I’m not. I have been expecting such a turn.’

Watson shook his head disparagingly. ‘I
knew
we couldn’t trust that fellow.’

‘Once a thief, always a thief, eh?’

Watson scowled at the implied criticism. ‘I am willing to concede that in the case of Mrs Kidd I was mistaken. But Jesse James has been an outlaw for years. His is clearly a recidivist nature. Besides, you cannot argue with the facts.’ He gestured to the discarded newspapers. One headline read JAMES GANG ROBS LONDON BANK, the other JESSE JAMES TERRORIZES LONDON. Below each headline was a picture of Jesse.

‘And these are “facts”?’ asked Holmes.

‘As presented by the people who were there, yes.’

‘Then may I suggest that all is not necessarily as it may 
appear? Aside from anything else, Jesse James is here to settle a very personal matter with the Liggetts. I do not think he would endanger that mission upon such a whim, no matter how recidivist his nature. For another matter, there were five robbers in total. Where did he recruit his four companions, especially at such short notice? No, Watson – Jesse James definitely did
not
commit this crime.’

‘Then who did?’

Before Holmes could reply there was a knock at the door. ‘Come.’

Mrs Hudson appeared. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr Holmes, but that dreadful boy Wiggins has just left you a message.’

Holmes was immediately attentive. ‘Which is…?’

‘“No joy”,’ she replied.

Holmes nodded, clearly disappointed. ‘Thank you, Mrs Hudson.’

Watson, who’d had time to answer his own question, waited for the landlady to leave, then said: ‘Holmes, are you saying that this robbery was the work of the Liggetts?’

‘I am saying that that is certainly more plausible than the alternative,’ Holmes replied. ‘But what say we ascertain the truth of the matter for ourselves? Let us see. The robbery was committed in Jewry Street, which puts it squarely in the jurisdiction of the Seething Lane division of the City of London Police. That makes it the responsibility of Inspector Varney – a competent if occasionally short-sighted investigator.’

‘By all means,’ Watson said. ‘Lead on.’

They arrived at Seething Lane police station just as Inspector Jacob Varney was donning his overcoat and preparing to leave. The big, bearded policeman looked up when they were shown in and, though in a hurry, took a moment to shake their hands warmly.

‘This is an unexpected surprise, and no mistake,’ he said. A man of average height and considerably overweight, he was about forty and seemingly incapable of looking anything other than dishevelled. ‘What brings you here, Mr Holmes? And you’d better be quick. I’m off to catch a criminal.’

‘Has there been a breakthrough in this morning’s robbery?’

‘Let’s just say that I’m confident of an arrest,’ said Varney. He shook his head in wonder. ‘You know, I didn’t even suspect that James fellow was in the country! But it will do me no harm to be known as the man who brought him to heel.’

Holmes smiled sardonically. ‘With the help of an
anonymous
tip-off, no doubt?’

‘What do you know about that?’ Varney asked
suspiciously
.

‘May I see the message?’

Varney hesitated, then grudgingly picked up a manila folder from his cluttered desk and handed it over. Holmes opened the folder to reveal a single sheet of thick,
cream-coloured
notepaper. The white envelope in which it had arrived was affixed to the letter by a pin. It had not been sealed with wax; the flap had merely been tucked into the body of the envelope. The message was written in neat, careful capitals: 

It was signed,
A CONCERNED CITIZEN

‘Thank goodness for the great British public, eh?’ said Varney. ‘They’ll never let you down.’

‘This is the work of an American,’ said Holmes.

‘Eh? How the dickens can you tell that?’

‘The turn of phrase,’ said Holmes. ‘“Hiding out” is an American term. We would simply use the phrase “in hiding”. By the way,’ he added, ‘when was this delivered?’

‘Not twenty minutes since. And before you ask, sir, no; the desk sergeant
didn’t
see who delivered it.’

‘And yet you still insist on acting upon it?’

‘I can’t afford not to, sir.’

‘True. But you
do
know it is just a ruse – a red herring to throw you off the scent of the real perpetrators?’

‘I know no such thing, sir.’

‘Tell me what you know about the robbery, Inspector.’

Varney was about to remind them that he was on his way out, then thought better of it. After all, this was Sherlock Holmes, a man for whom he had the greatest respect. Besides, he had an uneasy feeling that he might need Holmes before this case was closed. Briefly he reported the facts as they had been given to him by the witnesses.

‘So, just to clarify the matter,’ said Holmes, ‘at least two of the robbers spoke with an American accent, and the manager and staff were able to deduce their identity first by one of them letting slip the name “Jesse” and then by the 
man, Jesse, referring to himself and his men as “the James boys”?’

‘Correct,’ said Varney.

‘Doesn’t that strike you as being somewhat … clumsy? Even obvious?’

‘Not necessarily, sir. We all let things slip in the heat of the moment.’

‘Then why did they go to the trouble of wearing masks?’

‘Old habits?’

Holmes’s thin mouth narrowed still further. ‘How much was stolen from the bank?’

‘Close on a thousand pounds, sir.’

‘Then the reward for information leading to the arrest of the culprits and the return of the money would generate a reward of not less than one hundred pounds.’

‘That’s quite correct,’ the inspector confirmed.

‘And yet your informant prefers to remain anonymous, and forgo what is a considerable amount?’

‘Perhaps he has a social conscience, sir. Perhaps bringing this criminal to heel is reward enough.’

‘Or perhaps he is just out to make mischief, and cause the countess no small embarrassment.’

‘The countess,’ Varney said distastefully. ‘We all know about
her
.’

‘We have all heard the
rumours
,’ corrected Holmes.

‘Yes, rumours. But it’s my experience that where there’s smoke there’s fire, Mr Holmes. Could a woman of that type knowingly harbour a criminal? I do not think it beyond the realms of possibility. So I have to check it out.’

‘Naturally. All I ask is that you use discretion, Inspector. 
The countess is a friend of mine and I should not like to see her distressed by this slur.’

‘I will be the very epitome of discretion,’ Varney promised, pronouncing the word as
eppy-tomey
.

‘I would ask one other favour,’ Holmes said. ‘That we accompany you.’ When Varney hesitated, he added: ‘A friendly face may encourage the countess to co-operate more fully.’

Varney, realizing the sense in that, said: ‘Quite what I was thinking. Certainly you may accompany me, Mr Holmes. I should be glad of your assistance. Now, if you’ll give me a moment to arrange some transport….’

He hurried from his office and started bellowing orders.

Watson said quietly: ‘Do you think it was wise to offer to accompany him? I mean if James really is innocent, as I am now willing to concede, then we have to forewarn him. We could have slipped away and sent a telegram, perhaps, or—’

‘No, Watson. If the telegram were to come to light at some later stage it would implicate us in perverting the course of justice. And though I have been known to follow my own counsel in times past, neither of us would choose to do that willingly. We must hope that the countess and Jesse James both are as sharp-witted and resourceful as we believe them to be.’

Varney lumbered back into the room. ‘Are you ready, gentlemen? There’ll be a growler and a black Maria wagon around the front in ten minutes.’

CHAPTER 14

The Search

F
or the next hour or so the three of them were cooped up together inside a four-wheeled carriage. Behind, two sturdy draught horses pulled a black Maria wagon crowded with uniformed constables.

It was mid-afternoon when they wheeled up before Montague Hall. The butler showed Varney, Holmes and Watson into the library, where Elaina waited for them beside the fireplace. She looked elegantly stunning and, at first, delighted to see them. Then as she heard the inspector’s request to search her premises, she became shocked.

‘Surely, Inspector, you must realize that the very
notion
that I would entertain a known criminal here, much less hide him from the authorities, is ludicrous.’

‘Of course, m’lady,’ Varney said deferentially. ‘And naturally I apologize for the inconvenience. But I have to act upon all information received. And that is why I must ask your permission to search the house and outbuildings.’

Elaina looked at Holmes. ‘Is this
your
doing, Mr Holmes?’ she asked angrily.

‘No, Countess. In the first place, there is nothing to suggest
that Mr James is even in the country, much less that he has committed any crime. I am of the opinion that someone is attempting to lead the police investigation astray, playing a rather
im
practical joke, or simply hoping to embarrass you.’

She smiled at him, and he and Watson both saw the relief in her eyes. Holmes hadn’t betrayed Jesse, then – not that she had believed he would. But Jesse himself had been so convinced. Then again, trust must come hard to a man who had lived the life he had. She couldn’t blame him for his misgivings.

Still, it had been a close-run thing. It was Jesse, on edge ever since they had heard news of “the James boys” robbery, who had first sprung from his chair as if poked with a stick, Jesse who had been alerted by the faintest tinkle of harness even as the two police coaches appeared around the line of trees, heading along the drive at a determined trot.

‘You expectin’ someone?’ he’d asked her.

‘No.’

‘They’re policemen, ain’t they?’

‘Yes.’

‘Damn that Holmes! He’s sold me out!’

‘No, Jesse, you don’t know th—’

‘Well, I ain’t surrenderin’ without a fight!’

‘No, no. Please. No gunplay!’

‘I got no choice,’ he said. Angrily, he indicated the
afternoon
edition of the newspaper lying on the table. ‘I ain’t confessin’ to a crime I didn’t commit.’

An idea hit her. ‘Maybe you do have a choice …’ She tugged on the nearby bell-pull and within moments Fordham knocked and entered. ‘Yes, my lady?’ 

‘I want you to take everything from Mr Howard’s room and hide it.’

The butler’s only response was an infinitesimal lift of the eyebrows.

‘The police are about to arrive, and I suspect they believe that Mr Howard was somehow involved in this morning’s robbery of Crosbie and Shears.’

‘But Mr Howard has been here all day, my lady. I would be more than willing to testify to that.’

‘Thank you, Fordham, but for reasons I can’t explain that won’t be enough. Now, please do as I ask. Oh, and instruct the staff not to mention that Mr Howard was ever here.’

‘Very good, my lady,’ Fordham said without hesitation. Then as they heard the coaches pulling up outside, he added: ‘I will answer the door, my lady, and then attend to it.’

‘Thank you. But hurry. I’ll only be able to stall them for so long.’

As Fordham hurried out, Jesse said: ‘What about me? I ain’t as easy to hide as a suitcase.’

‘This is a large estate. Go find someplace on the grounds to lie low and don’t show yourself again until the police are gone.’

‘I can’t do that,’ Jesse said. ‘If they find me, it’ll implicate you. And believe me, you wouldn’t like being on the wrong side of the bars.’

‘Then make sure they
don’t
find you,’ Elaina said. She pulled him close, kissed him passionately and then pushed him towards the French windows. ‘Go on, darling. Do as I say.
Now
!’

Jesse left. 

Now, in answer to Varney’s request to search the premises, she said: ‘I gather you have a search warrant, Inspector?’

‘No, m’lady,’ he replied. ‘But I can get one, if needs be. I was rather hoping it wouldn’t come to that.’

‘It doesn’t have to,’ Elaina said. ‘I give you my personal assurance, Inspector, that you will not find the man you seek – always assuming he actually
exists
, that is – here.’

‘I appreciate that, m’lady. But I still have to check.’

‘Then my word isn’t good enough?’

‘I never said that, m’lady. And I’d be obliged if you didn’t go putting words in my mouth. Now, do we have your permission or not?’

Elaina hesitated, still stalling for time. No one would blame her for insisting upon a warrant. But then there came a knock at the door and she said: ‘Enter.’

Fordham came in. ‘Will the gentlemen be staying for tea, my lady?’ he enquired. His bland expression gave nothing away, but as soon as the opportunity presented itself, he gave a brief but unmistakable wink that only she caught.

Hiding her relief she said: ‘Will you, Inspector?’

‘Thank you, m’lady, no.’

‘Dr Watson and I would enjoy a cup,’ Holmes said to Elaina. Then to Varney: ‘I’m sure you and your men are quite capable of making a thorough search without our help.’

‘Quite,’ said the Inspector.

‘Fordham,’ said Elaina, ‘Inspector Varney and his men will be conducting a search of the house. Please give them every assistance.’

‘Yes, my lady,’ Fordham replied, and left.

Thanking her, Inspector Varney promised to be as quick as 
possible, and be the very epitome of discretion. Once again he made the word sound like
eppy-tomey
.

As the inspector left to organize the search, Holmes said quietly: ‘Have no fear. I doubt the police will find him unless he is exceptionally clumsy.’

She frowned. ‘What makes you say that?’

Ignoring the question, he went on: ‘You know, of course, that the Pinkerton agent, Cage Liggett, was behind the robbery at the bank, his plan being to incriminate James so that the police would deal with him?’

‘Of course.’

‘If your staff are questioned, can they be trusted not to talk?’

‘They will say nothing,’ she assured him. ‘I may be many things, Holmes, but never a bully. I’ve always treated the servants well, and they in turn have given me their complete loyalty.’

‘Let us hope you are right, Countess. If Varney finds James, or if your staff let something slip, you will be ruined. Harbouring a known criminal, especially one of James’s calibre … the courts will not be inclined to leniency, I fear.’

Varney waited in the hallway while his constables went through the house from top to bottom. The attic was opened and inspected. Every room was unlocked, underneath every bed was checked, every cupboard and wardrobe opened and scrutinized. The cellar was examined, and then the stables, the outbuildings, even the little crooked row of staff cottages.

Last of all the grounds themselves were searched. Elaina waited tensely beside Holmes and Watson, expecting at any moment that Varney to enter the room and grimly tell her 
that James had been found and apprehended, and it was time for her to admit that she’d been harbouring a criminal all along.

But the long, tense minutes continued to be marked by the metronomic ticking of the spelter clock, and nothing happened except more waiting.

The search took over an hour. But at last Inspector Varney entered the library, his expression sheepish. ‘Thank you, m’lady. I’m sorry to have troubled you.’

With effort, Elaina hid her relief and, with a glassy smile replied: ‘That’s quite all right, Inspector. You were only doing your duty.’

‘Very decent of you to see it that way, m’lady.’

‘However,’ she added, ‘my lawyer, Sir Ashley
Danvers-Cole
, will hear about this when I next see him.’

Varney, familiar with the lawyer’s fearsome reputation, looked crestfallen. ‘Yes, m’lady,’ he said meekly. And then, to Holmes and Watson: ‘Are you coming along?’

‘No,’ Holmes said. ‘The countess has kindly invited us to dine with her.’

With a nod, Varney made one final apology and then left, thoroughly shamefaced. From the library window they watched as his men climbed into the back of the black Maria wagon while Varney himself squeezed into the growler. A moment later they were heading back down the drive.

‘Heaven knows where Jesse went,’ said Elaina, turning to Holmes. ‘He could be miles away by now.’

‘I think not,’ Holmes replied. He stepped to the French windows, let himself out on to the terrace, and descended the stone steps into the gardens themselves. 

Elaina raised her eyebrows at Watson. ‘Now where’s he off to?’

Watson shrugged. ‘May I suggest we follow him and find out, my lady?’

With purposeful, long-legged strides Holmes headed for the giant oak which stood in the centre of the wide, spacious lawn. Upon reaching it, he stopped and called: ‘You can come down now, Mr James.’

Nothing happened.

‘I assure you that Inspector Varney and his men have left. You have nothing to fear.’

The branches shivered, and as Elaina and Watson approached they saw Jesse climbing down through the tangled foliage. Dropping lithely to the ground, he stretched to ease the kinks from his spine, then confronted Holmes.

‘All right,’ he said grudgingly. ‘How’d you figure out I was up there?’

‘Elementary,’ Holmes replied as the others joined them. ‘When one is searching, one will look from left to right and round about, but rarely will one ever look
up
. And though you are clearly an excellent climber, sir, you are also of sturdy build. As you climbed, you dislodged a number of leaves. Since it is hardly likely that an oak, which is in full bloom by this time of year, would shed its leaves at any time before October, it was therefore logical to assume that
something
or someone of substance was in the tree.’

‘Hell’s fire,’ Jesse grumbled. ‘Don’t you ever get tired of beating your own drum?’

‘You asked the question, Mr James. I merely provided the answer. But now I suggest we go indoors. Should the 
inspector happen to return for any reason, it would not bode well for the countess if he were to find you here. Besides, we have much to do if we are to clear your name and bring the real culprits to book.’

Jesse frowned, surprised. ‘Then you don’t figure I was part of that hold-up?’

‘Of course not. Unless we are both very much mistaken, it was Cage Liggett.’

‘The man you said you could find,’ Jesse reminded him sourly.

As they all walked back to the house Holmes said: ‘For the past four days I have had my agents, whom Watson refers to as my Baker Street Irregulars, scouring the East End in search of the Liggett brothers.’

‘The Baker Str – what the hell are they?’

‘A band of street arabs,’ said Watson. ‘Urchins led by a lad named Wiggins who … ’ He broke off suddenly as he
remembered
the message Mrs Hudson had given Holmes shortly before they’d left for Seething Lane. ‘So
that
’s what Wiggins’s message meant!’ he exclaimed. ‘He’s had “no joy” in finding the Liggetts!’

‘Precisely,’ said Holmes. ‘And so it falls to me to make enquiries in person.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Elaina said as she saw Jesse looked doubtful. ‘Holmes
will
locate them. I’d bet my life on it.’

‘Sure hope you’re right,’ Jesse said. ‘I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, Ellie. You and your servants have done right by me and I truly appreciate it. But I reckon I’ve kicked my heels ’round here long enough. If you don’t turn the Liggetts up soon,’ he added to Holmes, ‘I’ll have to do the job myself.’ 

‘That would be a grave mistake,’ Holmes said. ‘You’ll go blundering into the East End and more than likely get
yourself
killed or arrested. Don’t forget, the Liggetts know you’re here now, Mr James. I don’t know how – perhaps that sketch artist from the
Illustrated London News
made another drawing of you when you weren’t looking. But this much is certain – you have lost the element of surprise and they are out to get you before you can get them.’

‘Let ’em try,’ Jesse said. ‘They’ll learn to regret it. I’ve made a promise and I aim to keep it. I’m gonna kill those sorry bastards, Holmes – an’
anyone else
who tries to stop me.’

‘Jesse, please,’ Elaina began.

He cut her off, temper flaring. ‘You’re wastin’ your breath, Ellie. I’m at the end of my rope. If Holmes don’t find Liggett by tomorrow, I’ll track him down myself.’