Sherlock Holmes in Russia (4 page)

BOOK: Sherlock Holmes in Russia
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Holmes heard them out with considerable attention.

‘You say that the number of drunkards or the amount of spirits consumed is an indication of the approximate quantity of alcohol stolen to be traded for stolen gold, is that not so?' he asked when he had ended his cross-examination.

‘Yes,' said one of the investigators. ‘We keep a precise record of everything.'

‘Then why isn't the administration coming down hard on those most often drunk and cross-examining them specifically?'

The two investigators exchanged ironic looks. ‘Any mineworker would rather hang than reveal the source of forbidden drink,' answered one of them.

‘Wonderful!' said Holmes. ‘And how much stolen gold do you think the manager has put away.'

‘According to the sums we have done, approximately forty-eight Russian pounds. But it is possible he may have somewhat more. We can't account for every bottle of spirits.'

‘When is Seltzoff going off?'

‘In three days. The work in the mine ends tomorrow and the caravan with mined gold goes off. Seltzoff has to stay another two days to submit all accounts and pay off the workmen.'

On this our conversation ended.

V

We returned to our quarters. For a long time Sherlock Holmes paced back and forth silently, deep in thought.

‘No, he wouldn't trust that much gold to anyone else,' he said at last, stopping by the window. ‘He is a single, lone man, has nobody close, and he has to take his treasure away sooner or later. The only question is this: will he take it with him now or hide it and return for it later.'

‘I think it is the latter,' I said.

‘It all depends on how cautious he is. A thief always feels that he is being watched,' said Holmes. ‘And I am prepared to stake my head that Seltzoff realizes he is being watched, especially given that he has already been searched. Only, he relies too strongly on his own cunning. If that is so, he will try to carry the gold with him, because he realizes clearly enough that a second opportunity might not arrive. Moreover, a return when the season is over would attract suspicion. It would be impossible to do so secretly, because there will always be someone around and if nobody is working, all the more reason to notice someone around than when work is in full progress.'

I couldn't but agree with this line of thinking.

We began to wait patiently. Day and night, we took turns to keep Seltzoff under continuous scrutiny, except when he vanished inside his own quarters.

The next day the caravan left with the owner and the gold. Before he left, he revealed our true identities to the mine guard, asking him to give us every possible assistance.

Another day passed.

The manager made preparations to leave. His spacious leather-curtained personal coach was brought up to his quarters and his things brought out and placed in it.

‘We have to give the appearance that we are leaving,' said Sherlock Holmes as evening fell. He spent some time in discussion
with the mine guard.

We dropped in on the manager, thanked him for the hospitality we had been shown, and announced we were leaving that day.

‘We could travel together,' proposed the manager.

‘Oh, no, thank you,' answered Holmes. ‘As it is, I cannot forgive myself for having stayed today.'

A hardly perceptible ironic smile appeared on the manager's face. We left him and immediately ordered a carriage to be prepared for us. Two hours later we were off with the mine guard.

But we had hardly gone five or six miles from the mine when Holmes ordered the coachman to turn off at the next crossroad, and a quarter of an hour later we were deep in the thick coniferous forests of the taiga.

‘Let him get ahead of us,' Holmes explained. ‘An attack from the rear invariably works better. We'll fall upon him as soon as he gets to the first post house to change horses. I doubt if an ordinary but carefully conducted search won't produce the requisite results.'

We spread out felt matting, wrapped ourselves in warm blankets and slept the night in he forest. We rose with the dawn. The sun had most probably already risen, but in the deep gloom of the taiga it was still dark.

VI

Our bivouac, which gave all the appearance of a robber encampment, was a mere two or three hundred paces from the main road. Every little sound would penetrate the deathly silence of the taiga, more so the rumble of wheels and the beat of horses' hoofs. We left our horses behind and the three of us crouched behind bushes, near enough to see anything moving along the highway.

Everything was quiet till one in the afternoon, but then my ears detected some sort of sounds in the distance. I glanced at Holmes. He was already on the alert. The sounds increased in volume until, at last, the rumble of wheels and the beat of hoofs increased in volume.

A few minutes and a troika, the carriage driven by three horses, sped past.

The coachman was on the coach box. The manager inside. He had flung himself back in his seat, apparently dozing away as if he hadn't a care in the world. He didn't even look in our direction. Looking at him, nobody would imagine a man with anything but a clear conscience.

When his carriage had passed us a mile or so, Holmes threw himself into ours, motioning for us to follow. We sped in the path of the vanished manager, afraid we wouldn't catch him in time at the next post house where he would change horses.

Mile after mile flashed past. Our troika made a sharp turn and through the forest we spied the post house. With horror we saw that the manager's troika had nearly completed the change-over of horses. Another minute and we would have lost him, but just in time, as his coachman was clambering up to take his seat, our troika, horses foaming at the mouth from exertion, drew up beside him.

‘Mr Manager, I must detain you for just a minute,' said the mine guard, approaching him.

‘Is anything the matter?' asked the manager in surprise. And turning towards us, he said jovially, ‘I never thought I'd overtake you! Wherever did you get stuck? Surely not in the taiga!'

‘I'm afraid we got slightly involved in hunting,' said Holmes.

‘And that is to be commended. At least the mine guard will be able to carry out his errand.' The sentence was uttered with the deliberate intention of delivering a little sting. A malevolent look appeared for a moment in his eyes. ‘Now, sir, I am all ears,' he turned to the mine guard.

‘Permit me to search you.'

‘Me!' The manager burst out laughing. ‘Do you really still think that I am carrying away my employers' gold. In any case—' He shrugged. ‘The laws of the taiga are rough, and anyone who has fallen into it must be reconciled to them. Do your duty, sir. I am at your service.' He and the mine guard went into the post house.

‘Oh, what a rogue!' Sherlock Holmes exclaimed merrily. ‘I am prepared to wager anything that he guessed our identity all along. He's laughing in my face.'

‘So I see,' I said.

And as if to confirm our words, the manager suddenly sprang out of the post house. ‘Gentlemen, aren't you joining us? No need to carry on with your comic act, no need to conceal your real profession. Do come in, Messrs Detectives!' he yelled at us.

‘If that is so, of course, there is no need for us to hide who we are,' said Holmes with a smile. ‘Come along, Watson.'

We went in and began the search. But Seltzoff had absolutely nothing except for a cotton-lined heavy coat whose pockets were empty and a suit in whose pockets all we found was a wallet and a few letters.

We went outside. We ransacked his entire carriage, the suitcase and the bundles. A feather would not have escaped us. But, despite all our efforts, we found nothing. There was no gold.

Holmes took me aside and said softly, ‘My dear Watson, there's one place which we haven't looked at so far.'

‘And that is—'

‘It could very well be that the gold is in the axle or the shafts, or sealed inside the carriage walls. But it has been hidden so craftily that no outward inspection will reveal its presence. Somehow or other we must deprive him of his carriage and see how he reacts to that.'

‘That shouldn't be too difficult. Break the axles and wheels.'

‘Hmm, that's not too subtle,' answered Holmes. ‘It must be
done in a way that is not apparent. I'll take him inside the post house. Let the mine guard take over. He must order the coachman to break down somewhere along the way.' He thought for a moment and added, ‘Towards which end, it would help to saw through the axle just a little.'

VII

Saying this, he left me and walked towards Seltzoff. Seltzoff followed his movements with irony in his eyes. Holmes asked him to return with him to the post house, leaving me alone with the mine guard.

Left one-on-one with this keeper of law and order, I passed Holmes's instructions to him. He nodded his head to signal his willingness, called over Seltzoff's coachman and began to explain to him what had to be done.

For my part, I promised the coachman a reward of fifty roubles if he could bring the manager's carriage into a state of utter disrepair and explained that this was being done for the good of his employers. Needless to say, the coachman readily agreed to everything. ‘There is a steep incline not far from here and where it turns there is a mileage pillar,' he said. ‘Ride into it at full tilt and the carriage will disintegrate.'

I got a little saw out of my suitcase and quickly filed under both axles. A few minutes later Holmes and Seltzoff emerged. Holmes apologized for having caused him so much inconvenience and did it with such patent sincerity that the mine guard and I couldn't believe our ears. He even appeared to have made friends with the manager.

We all sat down to breakfast together, drank a bottle of champagne and decided to drive to Irkutsk together. We stowed away our luncheon baskets, took our seats in our respective carriages and set off. Seltzoff went ahead and we followed. Sherlock
Holmes never took his eyes off the troika ahead of us. And now, at last, the steep incline the coachman had told us about appeared.

As soon as we got to the top of the incline, the horses of the leading troika began to play up. No matter how hard the coachman tried, he couldn't control them. The sweating horses reared up and raced down. Seltzoff was terrified. But he leaped up, seized and pulled at the reins of the horse on the left. This worked somewhat. Their pace lessened but was still somewhat strong.

The coachman panicked as the troika flew towards the mileage pillar. But just before the mileage pillar he apparently came to himself. The troika zigzagged. The horses escaped the impending disaster, but not the carriage. There was the sound of a terrible crack. The horses came to a halt. The coachman went flying head over heels off his seat. Seltzoff was thrown on the back of one of the horses.

‘Bloody idiot!' he exclaimed angrily getting off. ‘Thank heavens they are right behind us, otherwise what would we do between two post houses!' He was walking round his coach, shaking his head in distress.

Our troika stopped beside him and we got down and expressed our sympathy.

‘What's there to grieve over,' he answered sadly. ‘I'll have to abandon the carriage. You, gentlemen, will have to be somewhat a little squeezed.'

‘Of course,' exclaimed Holmes, ‘but surely you don't intend to abandon such a carriage!'

‘What am I supposed to do about it, carry it? It will be a lucky find for someone who might even be grateful for such a find.'

The trap hadn't worked. Seltzoff's things were stowed in our carriage and, taking only his horses and their harness, we set off. But with five people, the load was too much.

‘I suggest we take turns walking,' said Holmes.

We agreed to do so. It was decided that two would sit inside and two would go on foot and change over every three miles or so. Holmes and I were first to set off on foot. Having walked the agreed distance, the manager and the mine guard walked and we sat in the carriage.

It was cool and Holmes and I had not tired. Not so Seltzoff. At first he strode along boldly. But just over a half mile on, he was perspiring and his face was red. The next half mile or so he desperately tried to appear as if his energy had not deserted him. But yet another half mile or so and he announced he couldn't walk so much as he wasn't used to it and, besides, his feet were hurting.

‘Strange,' said Holmes with a smile. ‘At work you were on your feet all day and you weren't tired, and here you become tired.'

‘Strange, indeed! I was thinking along those same lines myself,' said the manager.

The ironic look in his eyes had vanished and was replaced by a look of alarm.

At this moment Holmes shouted at the coachman, ‘Halt!' Seltzoff shuddered imperceptibly.

Holmes placed his hands on Seltzoff's shoulders and said frostily, ‘Well, Mr Manager, sir, you laughed at me in vain. Putting anything over Sherlock Holmes doesn't come easily. Give me your coat.'

‘But I'm cold,' muttered the manager.

‘In that case, force will have to be used,' exclaimed Holmes and nodded at the mine guard.

It took a moment to strip Seltzoff of his coat. Holmes took the coat by its collar and was just about to lift it with his outstretched hand.

‘So you've got me then,' Seltzoff growled angrily.

‘I don't understand,' I said. ‘What is going on?'

‘Oh, it only came to me because he was getting tired,' Holmes
explained, smiling. ‘The gold is in the heavy cloth of the coat. In its raw state, before it has been worked on to be hardened, gold is pliable and soft enough to be rubbed in its entirety into heavy material. It becomes a fine dust and, as such, it virtually dissolves into the cloth and vanishes. That is preceisely what this gentleman did. He rubbed the gold into the cloth and then all he would have to do to recover the gold is to burn off the cloth. But he wasn't able to do it, and from this moment he is under arrest.'

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