Read The Lost Casebooks of Sherlock Holmes Online

Authors: Donald Thomas

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The Lost Casebooks of Sherlock Holmes (114 page)

BOOK: The Lost Casebooks of Sherlock Holmes
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‘I think we have seen enough,' he said, ‘except for the matter of the windows.'

‘The windows?' For the first time, Jago lost a little of his bounce.

‘The windows,' Holmes repeated. “You have done so thorough a job, Inspector, creating a strong room from these three offices, ensuring that the only access—and, indeed, the only exit—is by way of a heavily guarded exterior door. Come now, you have surely seen that the only remaining weakness can be the windows. You were teasing us—or testing us—by not mentioning them, were you not? Putting us to the proof!”

This caught Mr. Jago nicely, on one leg, as it were. It was plain he had never given a thought to the danger of attack at such a height by way of the windows which were on view to the courtyard. However, to admit that now would demolish him.

‘I have had the windows in mind, Mr. Holmes,' he said uneasily.

‘To be sure you have,' replied Holmes consolingly.

‘I did not, however, consider them the most likely approach.'

‘Did you not? Surely they are the only approach, once your guards are in place.'

‘I was about to mention them, however.'

‘To be sure you were. I did not suggest the possibility of an attack down through the ceiling or up through the floor, for I was quite certain that you must have taken precautions against that too.'

‘Indeed so,' said Jago hastily. ‘Police constables are to be posted in rooms above and below.'

‘Excellent! In that case you can have no objection to assisting me in a small experiment with the windows. Would it be possible for one of us to go down into the courtyard and maneuver a small weight attached to a piece of string?'

He drew from his pocket a ball of thin cord, to the end of which a one-pound scale weight with a hook had been attached.

‘It would be possible, Mr. Holmes, only.…'

‘Only your instructions are to trust no one, not even Dr. Watson and myself. You must not leave us alone up here to wander about at will. Equally, you could not send one of us alone to roam the building on our way down to the yard. You are quite right, you have thought of everything, and you have passed the first test—loyalty to those in command of you. I should not dream of compromising you. Indeed, I insist that if you would be so good as to go down and manipulate the weight as I shall instruct you, you must lock us both in here and, if possible, one of your constables should keep surveillance upon us. However, it is imperative that I should have this assistance with my little experiment, and I would prefer not to involve anyone but the three of us.'

In the end, as Holmes had foreseen and contrived, Jago went down to the courtyard after locking us in, with a pantomime of reluctance. As soon as he was gone, my friend said:

‘Quick about it, Watson. That wretched fellow is worse than Lestrade. If we leave it to them, there will not be a jewel left in the entire royal collection. I must make a survey of the rooms. Open the window over there and lower the little weight on the cord—as slowly as you can. That will occupy him for a moment.'

I pushed up the window and began to pay out the cord. While doing this, it was not easy to watch what Holmes was up to, but he was striding about the anteroom, the garde-robe, and the post-room while pausing briefly from time to time. Once or twice I heard a tiny rasping sound of metal on metal. Then he appeared at the window beside me and began to shout instructions at Jago, thirty feet below. I cannot bear to repeat them all, for some were so idiotic, but at last he called down:

‘Take the weight! See how far it will swing side to side, along the wall. If our man comes down over the roof, he may gain a window ledge by descending to one side and swinging across. We must take measurements of that possibility.'

‘But the windows can be locked, Mr. Holmes.'

‘With a small steel jimmy, he can wrench them from their frames.'

‘In the City of London and in broad daylight, Mr. Holmes?'

‘He may carry a cloth and pail and masquerade as a window-cleaner.'

‘During His Majesty's visit?'

‘Or he may enter by night.'

However low Jago's opinion of my friend's detective skill, it was lower still by the time the inspector returned to what he called facetiously his garde-robe. He must surely have suspected something from this farce but he could not see, let alone prove, anything amiss. I had been a little put out when Holmes made his tour of Westminster Abbey and the House of Lords without me. Now I wished that I had also spent the day of the Mansion House visit at home.

4

The world knows that Coronation Day came and went without the loss of a single jewel. This enabled Lestrade to be still more witty at our expense, ruminating over his evening whisky and water at the manner in which the bumbledom of the Scotland Yard force had triumphed without the assistance of a detective genius. Sherlock Holmes remained unruffled, favouring him only with a quick humourless smile that was more than anything a grimace of impatience.

My thoughts still turned from time to time to Colonel Moriarty. Though Holmes and I knew of his criminal intent, he had surely missed the boat now that the main coronation ceremony was over. Even Holmes himself, when he sent a final refusal to stand guard at the coronation itself, remarked, ‘The whole alarm over the coronation and the jewels is a fuss about nothing.'

‘You cannot know that,' I said. ‘No one can.'

‘You will recall my reply to the wretched thief in the Case of the Blue Carbuncle, as you chose to call it. “My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people don't know.”'

So it came to the week of the Lord Mayor's luncheon. The street banners and loyal flags that had decorated the West End on Coronation Day now appeared in the great commercial streets of the City of London, around St. Paul's cathedral, on banks and insurance offices, at commodity brokers' and stock dealers'. Little rows of bunting also adorned the close-packed houses of the adjacent East End, as well as the docks of Wapping and Limehouse.

The behavior of Sherlock Holmes had created a dilemma for me. He would say nothing more, yet he appeared sure of everything. He had long ago left Lestrade and Brother Mycroft high and dry. Even my loyalty was put to the test. Had he got the wrong end of the stick, as the saying goes? All men are mortal, even Sherlock Holmes. It was not beyond possibility that he was in error over some vital detail. He had admitted errors in certain past cases.

How could Holmes know from the start that it was not the coronation but the Lord Mayor's luncheon that would be the occasion of a sensational theft? Unless the colonel was to knock down the wearer of the Queen of the Night in full public view, the only opportunity must be while the robes, cloaks, and their insignia were locked away in the garde-robe during the official luncheon.

Unless our opponent had a team of labourers with pick-axes to break through a twelve-inch stone wall, the only approach to that room was by double doors securely locked and bolted, guarded by armed sergeants of the Provost Marshal's Corps. Within the anteroom, the communicating door, which led into the garde-robe with its rows of tailor's dummies, was also locked. There were the windows down one side, overlooking the courtyard thirty feet below. However, since Holmes had made such play of these to Inspector Jago, police guards in the courtyard were to keep constant surveillance to frustrate any attempt at the casements. The smaller post-room at the end would also be locked but its own cupboards, large enough for a cat but not for a man.

The integrity of the Provost Marshal's Corps was unquestioned. Even if an intruder could hide himself in these rooms during the royal luncheon, any theft would be discovered once the minor courtiers and their attendants returned to assume their robes for the rest of the ceremonies—while the thief must still be there. The disappearance of the Queen of the Night would cause any suspect to be stripped to the skin—however discreetly. Then, if nothing was found, he must be free to go. Yet he would go without his trophy. Every room or cupboard would be taken to pieces, floorboards taken up. No one would be permitted to return, certainly not a thief who might have hidden his booty there.

Suspicion must fall primarily on the two unfortunate sergeants at the door of the garde-robe, who entered it alone when they collected and handed out the robes after lunch. Or perhaps it might fall upon a chamber-groom who assisted his master to disrobe and robe again. Holmes had calculated how such a crime might be carried out. If he could calculate it, so might someone else.

If ever there was a mystery in a locked room, this must be it, and I am not a great believer in such riddles. Colonel Moriarty would take one look at the provost sergeants and abandon his plan—if he ever had one. This would not suit Holmes, who intended a final encounter with his adversary, but Colonel Moriarty was not there to suit Holmes.

That evening after dinner I watched Holmes cautiously from behind my newspaper as he sat at his worktable. He unwrapped a chamois leather and took out what might have been the Queen of the Night, had the famous ornament been nothing but a Christmas-tree decoration or a glass fancy-dress trinket. Perhaps he hoped to trick Colonel Moriarty into stealing a mere gewgaw rather than a Brazilian diamond set among indigo sapphires. In the heat of the moment the colonel might be deceived, though I doubted it. In any case, a counterfeit may be of use to the thief. I could not see what help it would be to those who hunted him. I opened my evening paper, certain that this trumpery, as Mycroft would call it, seemed unlikely to warrant the duel to the death that Sherlock Holmes had set his heart on. I was wrong—but I could not know it then.

5

The sunshine on the Lord Mayor's day of glory showed that first mellowing that comes with the turn of summer into autumn. Holmes and I were at the Mansion House by early morning. Lord Holder and Inspector Jago left us much to ourselves, his lordship believing we knew best and the inspector regarding our presence as unnecessary. We both wore formal court dress of black frock coat and white tie, striped trousers, and silk top-hat.

Four hundred of the noblest were to sit with King Edward, Queen Alexandra, the Prince and Princess of Wales, the Lord Mayor, and Aldermen of the City of London in the grandeur of the Egyptian Hall. Lesser chamberlains, heralds, and those who could not be accommodated in such splendour were to take lunch either in the Venetian Parlour or Wilkes's Parlour. Lower still were those officers and officials who would be accommodated with little more than a buffet.

‘You would do me the greatest service,' said Holmes as we made our itinerary of the upper floor, ‘if you were to take up your position in Lord Holder's room. From there, you will have a direct view across the courtyard into the windows of the garde-robe and a room to right and left. That is to say, the anteroom on the left, the garde-robe, and the post-room on its right, as we saw them on our tour of inspection. On Lord Holder's desk you will find a pair of field-glasses with Zeiss precision lenses. Train these on the opposite windows. Leave nothing unobserved.'

As an afterthought, he added, ‘No matter what you see, remain there until the appointed time. You may observe what looks like a crime in progress, but it may be nothing of consequence.'

‘It would help a good deal if I knew what I am supposed to see.'

‘I anticipate there will be a crush in the anteroom when the royal procession from Buckingham Palace breaks up in the courtyard and the minor nobility enter to disrobe for lunch. That will dwindle, everyone will leave to go down to the Egyptian Hall, and the doors will be locked and secured by the provost guard. The rooms will remain quiet for an hour or more during the royal lunch. The two armed sergeants and the captain of the Provost Marshal's Corps will stand guard on the only door giving access, with two more sergeants in reserve. Jago and several of his men will be in the courtyard. A blue-bottle fly, I suggest, will not get in or out during that time.'

‘And you, Holmes?'

He shrugged. ‘I shall await events and keep my eye on Colonel Moriarty throughout lunch. He with his co-chamberlain will attend in the robing-room as grooms of the chamber to Lord Dorset. Then he will be seated in the Egyptian Parlour. Lord Holder has placed me there as well, with a convenient pillar between us. When the meal is over, you will make your way to the doors where the provost sentries stand. The keys are guarded by the Lord Mayor's chamberlain. He will hand them to the guard commander, who will open the doors and stand back for the minor courtiers to enter. The two sergeants will unlock the garde-robe, enter, and hand out the robes to the attendants in a strict order.'

‘And you?'

‘I shall be there. You have your revolver with you and it is loaded?'

‘Of course. All the same, I cannot see that there is the least opportunity for Colonel Moriarty to lay hands on the Queen of the Night!'

‘That is precisely how he would wish it to seem. You understand your instructions.'

‘Such as they are.'

‘Capital! We may have every confidence that this will end well.'

I had not the least confidence of any such thing. I had no clear idea of what Colonel Moriarty looked like except from shadowy photographs of a tall black-coated man coming and going in a dingy courtyard. As one of the grooms of the chamber to the Earl of Dorset, he would be dressed in a scarlet tunic with a little gold piping, but almost every man in the building would be wearing one of those. He would have no robe of his own, being merely a servant of the earl.

I calculated that the distance across the courtyard was about eighty or ninety feet. My field-glasses were rather of the Barr & Stroud pattern with precision-ground lenses. They brought the opposite windows sharply into view and gave me a clear enough image beyond them for the canvas texture of the naked tailor's dummies to be plainly visible. As yet there was nothing to observe. I remained in position until I heard the deep bell of St. Paul's in the distance, striking noon. Presently the buzz of conversation from Inspector Jago's men in the courtyard gave way to the first rumble of carriage wheels.

BOOK: The Lost Casebooks of Sherlock Holmes
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