The Adventures of the Eleven Cuff-Buttons
Page 7
CHAPTER VII
After we had all imbibed freely of the blood of the grape the Earlthen led the way out to the front door. Inspector Letstrayed seemed tohave something in his noodle, and after much cogitation he finallycame out with it.
"Er, Hi say, Mr. 'Olmes," he blurted out, "you have forgotten tosearch any of the servants, to see whether or not they have thediamond cuff-buttons concealed about their persons, doncherknow."
"Say, Letstrayed, for the love of Mike, don't interrupt me again withyour well-meant but rattle-headed advice, or I'll be liable to forgetmyself and commit murder on the premises. I'm running this show, notyou,--gol darn it!" And Holmes ground his teeth as he added: "The ideaof Letstrayed being chump enough to think that the servants, if theyhave stolen the diamonds, would risk discovery so boldly as to carrythem around with them!--and besides, the village constables searchedthem yesterday. It's a cinch he owes his appointment as Inspector atScotland Yard to a political pull, and not to his merit!"
The sky looked rather changeable as we all passed out by the greatmain entrance of Normanstow Towers, and went down the broad stonestairway to the lawn, alternately clouding over and then letting thefugitive April sun shine through.
"Ah, fickle Springtime, it's just like a woman!" said Uncle Tooter,with a deep-drawn sigh that must have come all the way up from hisboots.
"Well, what's eating _him_, the old duffer, I wonder?" growled Holmes."Is he falling in love, at his age?"
"He's dippy over that Spanish maid, Teresa Olivano, and I hear thatshe has refused him twice," whispered the Earl so that only Holmes andmyself could hear him.
"For Heaven's sake, don't mention it in the Countess's hearing,because she's simply wild over her bachelor uncle being in love with aservant, both on account of the social disgrace, and because, if UncleTooter married Teresa, she and I would lose a large part of theinheritance that we expect when the old boy finally cashes in. He'sworth over forty million dollars, or eight million pounds, all made inthe tea and spice business in India and Ceylon."
"Well, what gets _me_ is why this Teresa ever turned him down, then,instead of jumping at the offer the first time he proposed," saidHolmes, with a grin. "Forty million cold bones don't grow on _every_bush, you know."
"Teresa is a rather peculiar girl, Holmes, and what would attractothers doesn't attract _her_," replied the Earl.
"Very, very peculiar, I'll say," commented Holmes cynically, as theCountess, Tooter, Hicks, Budd, Letstrayed, Lord Launcelot, andThorneycroft stopped at the edge of the wide-spreading lawn onobserving its wetness.
"Come on, everybody, let's take a little stroll around these beautifulancestral acres. A few rain-drops won't hurt you."
And, so saying, the masterful detective grabbed the Earl and me by thearm and signalled to the others to accompany us.
"I have a motive for doing this, Earl," whispered Holmes to thelatter, as the rest of the party reluctantly followed us, "which Iwill let you in on later."
I consented to be hauled around over the drenched grass by mydomineering partner, as I knew from long experience that he was liableto do almost anything while on a mystery-hunt, and I accordingly keptmy mouth closed. Billie Budd had his hat knocked off by a low-hanginglimb of a tree that we passed under, and he let out a few choiceAustralian cuss-words that he had learned at the Ballarat gold mines,as he scowled at Hemlock Holmes, the author of this unaccountablepromenade in the wet grass.
"Say, what do you think you're doing, anyhow, Mr. Smart-Alec fromLondon,--adopting the Kneipp cure?" he growled.
"Don't you worry, Budd old boy, maybe I'll find the lost diamondcuff-buttons out here in the grass. The robbers may have dropped themhere as they fled," answered Holmes smilingly, as he slapped the Earlon the back.
"Yes, and, then, again, they may not. I'll just bet you a five-poundnote, Holmes, that you don't recover a single one of the elevencuff-buttons to-day," said Budd.
"Done!" shouted my partner. "Doc Watson, you hold the stakes," headded, turning to me; "here's my five."
"And here's _my_ five," said Budd, with a smile, as he handed me afive-pound note to match Holmes's.
"That's it. I'm always the goat," I grumbled, as I shoved the kale inmy pocket. "Here I am with the responsibility of keeping ten pounds ofother people's money safely, while Holmes cops all the limelight!"
"Cheer up, Watson, old boy," said Holmes. "Here,--have a cigarette!Now, I think we've seen about enough of this lovely Puddingham lawn,"he added as he calmly surveyed the wide green expanse that stretchedfor four hundred feet out from the front of the castle to the road andfor three hundred feet on each side of the massive pile, dotted hereand there with trees and incipient flower-beds, on the latter of whichHeinrich Blumenroth had been exercising his skill, planting springflowers. "So I guess we'll go back inside, and consider the case ofthe lost jewels further," continued Holmes.
And the whole nine of us obligingly trudged after him like sheep afterthe bellwether, and reentered the castle.
It was now after eleven o'clock, and nothing in the shape of a diamondcuff-button had turned up yet, but I was not surprised, because I knewthat Hemlock Holmes had not yet put in his best licks,--that is tosay, had not yet pulled off any of his deepest cogitations anddeductions. Just as I happened to see him slipping his little oldcocaine-squirter back in his pocket after a surreptitious shot in thearm (while our party was entering the drawing-room on the left side ofthe front corridor), Lord Launcelot evidently thought it incumbentupon him to kid Holmes for the lack of results so far; but he hadn'tspoken more than a few words of his would-be witty remarks when Holmesturned and barked at him like a terrier.
"Say, you, lord or no lord, you'll have to chop out the funny remarkson my method of handling this case, or else I'll drop the whole thingright here," he flung at the surprised Launcelot. "I can't stand thiseternal butting-in while I'm trying to think!"
The Earl warned Launcelot to cease the comedy, and then Holmesmotioned all of them except me out of the room, saying that he hadsome deep thought on hand that would take up at least two hours, andthat we shouldn't be called to luncheon until a quarter after one. Mystomach rebelled at this, but my head knew better than to oppose theold boy when he had a thought-tantrum on.
Billie Hicks,--he from Canada,--was the last one to go, and as he wasleaving he hurled this Parthian shot at Holmes:
"Now go ahead and try to think, Holmes. Maybe you'll succeed in theattempt!"
Holmes threw a book at him, which narrowly missed Hicks as he bangedthe door shut behind him, and my partner immediately locked the door,put the key in his pocket, pulled a couple of cushions off a couch,placed them on the piano, perched himself up on top of the improvisedseat, with his feet on the ivory keys, and then calmly proceeded tofill his well-worn pipe with some of that strong-smelling shag tobaccothat he generally used when he started a meditation, or pipe-dream,just as you prefer to call it.
I knew what was coming, so I opened one of the windows all the way up,to let out the terrific fumes of the uncivilized stuff that he smoked,while he curled himself up comfortably in his strange position on topof the piano, with his chin resting on one hand, and his elbow on somesheet-music, and then smoked away like a steam-engine, as immovable asa bronze statue, while he thought and pondered and meditated, and thenthought some more, about the stolen diamond cuff-buttons,--with me allthe time sitting on the couch like a bump on a log, trying my best tofigure out the conflicting testimony advanced by the fourteendifferent servants and the seven other persons.
Time rolled on, and the clock on the marble mantel struck half-pasteleven,--twelve,--half-past twelve,--one,--and at length came to aquarter past one, while I couldn't dope out who swiped thecuff-buttons to save my neck!
"I've got it!" shouted Holmes suddenly, as he jumped off the piano,scattering the sheet-music right and left, and paced up and down infront of the mantel, while I heaved a sigh of relief.
"Time for luncheon, ain't it, Holmesy, old boy?" I questioned.
"Yes. Sure, Watson. I'm hungry, too, after all that heavy thought.We'll go in and have luncheon now, and then we'll get some swiftaction."
Thereupon Holmes led the way to the dining-room, where the othersawaited us.
And so we did get some swift action, but not exactly what Holmes hadexpected, sad to relate. To all adroit inquiries on the part of theEarl as to what he had deduced, Holmes returned a smiling and evasiveanswer during the elaborate luncheon, which proceeded to theend,--when the finger-bowls were brought on,--without untowardincident.
As my partner deftly massaged his long tapering digits in the perfumedwater, he leaned over and whispered to Inspector Letstrayed, who satnext to him. Letstrayed's eyes bulged out, and Holmes then arose,pushed his chair back, inserted his left thumb in the left armhole ofhis vest, expanded his chest, cleared his throat, and pointed hisright fore-finger dramatically at Billie Budd at the other end of thetable, as he said:
"Inspector Letstrayed, do your duty! There stands the guilty wretch!"