by Seamas Duffy
‘Large boots?’
‘I think so.’
Holmes permitted himself a glimmer of satisfaction at this reply. ‘Constable Hewlett, you have been most helpful, and I must commend your attention to detail, for though you may have let this man slip from your grasp, you have given us one or two of the only real clues we have as to the suspect.’ As he spoke, a uniformed constable rushed up breathlessly from the direction of Finsbury Square and handed Lestrade two envelopes. He tore open the first and uttered an exclamation under his breath.
‘According to this,’ said the Inspector, handing the note to Holmes, ‘there is no cab registered as 9435!’
‘I had begun to suspect that,’ my friend replied. ‘There is a subtle, scheming brain behind this.’
The Inspector took a brief look at the second envelope, and I noticed his expression change from annoyance to alarm. I glanced over his shoulder and observed the green envelope with his name typed in capitals in red ink. On this occasion the envelope was not postmarked Kensington, but ‘E.C.’ – the City, whose precincts began a mere two hundred yards from where we stood.
‘Look at this,’ the Inspector said. ‘Not a word of the murder can possibly have reached the papers yet.’
‘Open it,’ said Holmes. The letter read:
‘BABYLON HAS FALLEN, 25 June 1895
Revelation xvii: 16. When the righteous man cometh he shall hate the whore, and shall make her desolate and naked.’
Then, typed by the sender, one single word:
‘Servavi’.
‘Past tense,’ I said.
‘Yes, it will be his last. I had already come to that conclusion before I saw the letter,’ said Holmes.
‘It’s but little consolation, I can tell you,’ said Lestrade glumly. ‘You still have not explained to me, Mr Holmes, how you came to know the place of the murder.’
‘You had better come back to Baker Street with us,’ Holmes replied.
Chapter 4
Tobias Gregson had been left to attend to the disposal of the body and supervise the dispersal of the crowd. Once Holmes, Lestrade, and myself were seated comfortably in the sitting room, my friend waved us to the cigar box, lit his pipe, and looked at us through the smoky haze.
‘Mrs Hudson will have the kettle boiled in no time,’ he said, ‘but now to business. “Straightforward” was the word I used when describing the pattern of the murders to Doctor Watson this morning, and I may say that he fairly jibbed at the word. Nevertheless, once I have explained it all, I am convinced you will both agree with me. It came about this way: as you know, my knowledge of London topography is fairly precise, and an idea had entered my head regarding the locations where these bodies were found. When I looked at the street map of London, the suspicion became a certainty. I plotted the sites and discovered that the locations where the first three bodies were found were almost exactly the same distance apart.’
‘I was not aware of that,’ said Lestrade.
‘Attention to detail combined with the faculty of imagination,’ replied Holmes. He rolled out a plan of the area, which showed three crosses placed on it in red ink.
‘I had got this far when you arrived this morning,’ he continued. ‘These crosses are almost exactly one thousand yards apart. Now that seemed far too round a number to be a coincidence, but it was the language used by the writer of those letters we read yesterday, which set me thinking. A thousand yards corresponds to two thousand cubits, if you know what a cubit is.’
‘I have a vague memory of it,’ I said. ‘It is one of those archaic words from scripture which calls to mind linen ephods and vases of manna, though I fail to see the relevance.’
‘In order to understand that, I spent an hour or two reading up on the subject, where I discovered that two thousand cubits has a very powerful historical significance. It is known as “the hallowed distance”. I think you will find the precise quotation somewhere in Joshua – and it is enshrined in the rituals surrounding the Ark of the Covenant in King Solomon’s temple. This “hallowed distance” has a more recent resonance and one that is rather closer to us. It is an established fact that the rebuilding of the City of London following the great fire was entrusted to Freemasons, such as Sir Christopher Wren and Nicholas Hawksmoor, who employed this symbolism to scale their chief works. There is a profusion of Hebraic, pre-Christian symbolism in the obelisks, eyes, and pyramids, and an obsession with the motif of death and rebirth – hardly the stuff of traditional Anglican ecclesiastical architecture, where, you will admit, cherubim and seraphim tend to predominate. For example Hawksmoor’s design of St George’s in Bloomsbury is a precise replica of King Solomon’s temple in Jerusalem, a fact which did not escape the notice of the Puritans at the time, many of whom condemned the building as pagan. The entire City of London was rebuilt to oblique variations on this geometry, which was not only hallowed but also covert: at least, it was understood only by members of the Craft. Two thousand cubits from St Paul’s to the western boundary of the City at Temple Bar; two thousand cubits to the eastern boundary; two thousand cubits from St Mary Woolnoth to Christ Church and so on.’
‘We are getting rather off the track, are we not?’ interrupted Lestrade impatiently.
‘Not at all; we are very hot upon it, as I hope to show. You see, I grasped the obvious fact that unless this was an elaborate hoax – a possibility which I had by then begun to discount – one is forced to adopt the hypothesis that the locations of these murders had some veiled significance, perhaps known only to those who can decipher the code. That is what enabled me to predict the location of the fourth murder. If the first three murders were two thousand cubits apart, it followed that the fourth would be as well. It was also likely that the sites would form some covert pattern, and so they do. If I place the fourth cross on the map at the place where the body was discovered last night, it makes the arrangement complete. I was absolutely certain, too, that I had solved the mystery of the five-shilling pieces left at the murder sites: the five-shilling piece is supposed to represent a crown, and the realization of this together with my research had served to strengthen my pessimistic assumption that there was more to come.’
‘But how?’ asked Lestrade.
‘To discover the significance of the coins, it was simply a matter of being literal. At that point three crowns had been left at the murder sites; a much more likely number would be four crowns, would it not? The gnomon, so to speak, was the fourth crown, and it was rather obvious how and where we should find it, was it not?’
‘And so you guessed where the fourth one would be?’ asked Lestrade.
‘It was hardly guesswork; I reasoned it out. Though once I had plotted these first three,’ Holmes said, pointing to the map, ‘it was not difficult to extend the pattern to place the fourth point in or near Bunhill Fields, though due to the small scale of the plan, I seem to have been out by a few dozen yards. But I have told you only half of the story, for I further discovered in the byways of ancient Masonic lore that “Four Crowns”, or rather its Latin equivalent – Quattuor Coronae – was the name chosen by a Lodge which was founded a few years ago by a branch of the Freemasons in London. You will hardly be astounded to learn that its seal is four crowns set in a diamond shape. The Lodge, incidentally, has some very esteemed and respected members – quite a few peers of the realm, a smattering of government ministers, but also a former Metropolitan Police Commissioner and a remarkable number of senior Scotland Yard men. The significance of the corn in the victims’ hands seemed quite prosaic at first, for every Masonic temple is adorned with the symbol of a sheaf of corn representing the fruits of labour, but it was the variation in the numbers that was puzzling. The first victim had one; the second had two; the third, none; the fourth, five. The number of the Quattuor Coronae Lodge is 1205 – one, two, nought, five!’
‘Brilliant!’ I said.
‘But what does it mean?’ asked Lestrade.
‘You will agree that the ritualism is unmistake
able? The obvious implication is that the members of this Lodge are in some way responsible for, or have some connection with these outrages. One might speculate that they have been initiated by the Quattuor Coronae, either as some form of retribution for breaking the rules or for some injury to one or more of its members. The situation manifests to me many parallels with the infernal persecutors of the innocent John Openshaw some years ago. Of course, it occurred to me that it was equally possible that the entire scheme had been invented by the murderer as a blind in order to throw the police off the trail, or to deflect the guilt upon the Lodge, which may, after all, have absolutely nothing to do with it. I have by no means discounted that possibility yet, but it certainly disposed of any theory that the killings were the work of some deranged homicidal lunatic. It now appears to form part of a definite campaign, the precise motives of which are yet unclear to me.’
‘I find it very hard to credit,’ said Lestrade.
‘The most difficult part,’ I remarked, ‘is in understanding how these unfortunate women come into this conspiracy at all.’
‘One might speculate that their profession brings them into contact with the upper classes, and this Lodge caters primarily for the upper classes,’ said Holmes.
‘Then the most obvious explanation is a blackmail attempt,’ I said.
‘I am struck by the fact that it seems rather too obvious. If the persecution emanates from there, it may not be retribution for transgressions; it may be the price of guilty knowledge, perhaps innocently discovered, of the secrets of its some of its members. It may be a sign that the punishment has been meted out, or it may be a warning to others not to meddle with such forces.’
‘But surely,’ Lestrade went on doggedly, ‘if they were responsible, they would hardly advertise their guilt?’
‘That is a much more difficult question. The ritualism may be designed to throw guilt on the Lodge unjustly. Equally, the Quattuor Coronae may have adopted the stratagem of “concealing by not concealing” – a very clever double bluff. To return to the point about Hawksmoor: the six churches and two obelisks he built stand upon the London topography for all to see; yet they combine clandestinely and at the same time overtly to form the “Eye Of Horus” of Masonic lore.’
Lestrade shook his head in disbelief, ‘I cannot deny that this is very clever of you, Mr Holmes, but your secret codes and evil eyes—’
‘If you wish to disregard my advice and work independently, that is no concern of mine, but there can be no doubt that the Craft glories in its arcana, and revels in its puzzles and subtly adroit double-negatives, its mysteries and its symbols – “veiled in allegory” to use their own chosen phrase.’
‘It all seems quite fantastic,’ the Inspector went on.
‘To the modern scientific mind, perhaps: but the belief that mystic shapes combined with sacred words or numbers can work primitive magic is a potent one; it persists even in our own day within the body of established religion. These paraphernalia of the Craft were not fashioned purely for the adornment of their temples and for the embellishment of their regalia. These sigils, which date back through the Crusades to the sands of ancient Egypt, have carried with them for thousands of years a timeless, universal power; a power which mere words cannot convey; a power which in the right hands may transform the mind and the soul of man for great good or for terrible evil.’
I must confess that a thrill passed keenly through me as my friend spoke these words, for his eyes had that faraway look which I had often seen, and his voice had a peculiarly ethereal cadence.
‘These codes and sigils are all around us,’ he continued in the same vein, ‘we simply never notice them: look closely at a dollar bill the next time you see one; think of London’s memory as held, not in any library or museum, but in its ancient stone, bloodied soil, and turbid waters; finally, reflect upon the palimpsest which has been inscribed through the ages upon the City of London, for it is one of the most potently and most mysteriously coded precincts in the western world.’
Then the severely pragmatic Holmes seemed to come back down to earth.
‘I also intend to set in train some practical lines of inquiry of my own,’ he said.
‘By the four-foot-nine brigade?’ Lestrade laughed. ‘I’ll admit privately that they’re better than a whole division of flat-footers, though I’m never sure that their activities are strictly legal, and I certainly wouldn’t like to think of them turning on the other side of the law. Mind you, I’ve often thought the same about yourself, Mr Holmes: no offence, of course.’
My friend chuckled noiselessly. ‘Yes, the Irregulars will have a part in it, but I shall also employ some of my contacts in – well, perhaps I should hardly say any more about that in front of yourself.’
‘No, I should prefer to be without the guilty knowledge. I’ll turn over in my mind what you have told me, though my head is still spinning. I should be obliged if you’d let me know if anything further turns up,’ Lestrade said as he picked up his hat to leave. ‘I must be off to a meeting with the guv’nor. As you know, the papers are full of talk of setting up vigilance committees – it’s the last thing we want.’
‘They would be wasting their time: there will be no more murders, and in any case, this man is too clever to be caught by the official police. He would merely amuse himself with these vigilance men.’
‘Yes, I remember the last time. Every crank within five miles …’ he shook his head in despair.
Once the Inspector had left, Holmes remarked ‘I am not sure how much longer I can retain our friend’s confidence in this matter.’
‘You are irritated by his scepticism?’
‘Not at all, Watson; a healthy scepticism is a most necessary character trait in any detective, official or otherwise – if only it were balanced at times by a bit of imagination. No, it is Lestrade’s loyalty which concerns me.’
‘My dear Holmes, I confess that I am mystified by this remark. Whatever can you mean?’
‘As I pointed out, some very senior City and Metropolitan Police Officers are members of this Lodge. A Police Commissioner was formerly the Lodge Grand Master. If these murders are somehow related to a decree emanating from that organization, no one would be in a better position than these men to frustrate the pursuit of justice, should they so wish. And what would Lestrade, a mere Inspector, do if that were found to be the case? It would place him in a very difficult position indeed. I think we shall keep our own counsel in this for the moment.’
‘I must confess, I would be shocked to find that anyone of Sir Edward’s standing… .’
‘I have no doubt that you would be, Watson. However, you make a rather unjust implication there, which is that wrongdoing is the monopoly of the lower classes. What about the dreadful child murderer whom we helped send to the gallows eight years ago, was there ever a more respectable individual?’
‘Stevens? Yes, as I recall he presented an amiable appearance and demeanour, and was in the employ of one of our offices of government. A man who held an honourable army record, and a lay preacher to boot.’
‘And collusion, not to say outright corruption, within the official force, even at such exalted levels as Sir Edward’s is, sad to say, hardly unknown. I can recall several cases both at home and on the continent: there was the Eveline conspiracy in Bruges in the year ’84 which resulted in scores of resignations from the Belgian police force; some years ago, 1877 to be exact, Lestrade’s predecessor, Inspector Meiklejohn, and two Chief Inspectors – Palmer and Druscovitch – received two years’ hard labour apiece as a reward for their own extramural activities. Several other higher-ranking officers were brought to trial, but were subsequently acquitted solely due to the lack of evidence. The scandal completely discredited the entire Metropolitan Detective Force, which was abolished. Most interestingly, in the light of our present researches, it emerged later that many of the protagonists in the case were members of the somewhat ironically-named Three Grand Principles Lodge.
&n
bsp; ‘There is a further consideration, Watson. It is a matter of fact that the oaths of the Freemasons’ initiation bind all of its members, and I quote with authority, “… to conceal all crimes of your brother Masons, and should you be summoned as a witness against a brother Mason be always sure to shield him. It may be perjury to do so but you must remain true to the binding oath you have sworn.” This loyalty supersedes that of the ordinary citizen towards the common good – indeed, towards the law of the land; the oath of secrecy applies to all of its members regardless of whether they are doctors, policemen or jarveys. The motto is “Aude, Vide, Tace.” Listen, Watch, Be Silent; and the greatest of these, Watson, is “Tace” – be silent!’
The front doorbell was ringing as Holmes continued, ‘As you know, I had already established as a working hypothesis that the assailant had employed a cab, and the evidence of this morning confirmed that. I have reverted to my usual method for finding needles in haystacks; I assume that will be my man now.’
Presently, a smartly-dressed, alert-looking young man appeared at the door of the sitting room.
‘Ah, Cartwright, Mr Wilson tells me that you have been promoted.’
‘Yes, Sir, and a rise of wages too,’ he smiled.
‘Well, I trust that you are neither too busy, nor too proud, to undertake private commissions.’
‘Not at all, Sir. I’m always very glad to help. So is Mr Wilson. He loves to boast how often he has been able to assist Mr Sherlock Holmes in his cases.’
‘Excellent. Now, this errand may take up the rest of the day and most of the evening as well. Here is a list of the cabmen’s shelters in the West End: start at Half-Moon Street and work your way out through Paddington to Westborne Grove. I am looking for a jarvey who owns his own cab and hires it out privately. That’s to say, one who hands his cab over for a period of time to an unlicensed driver – a “buck” as they call them. Ask very discreetly, though. A hansom is no use; it must be a growler. If you can find such a man, then there is a half sovereign waiting for him on application at 221b Baker Street. I would be also obliged if you could call in to Bradley’s in Oxford Street and ask the proprietor to send up a half-pound of his best, strongest Balkan. This should be enough to keep you going,’ he said, handing the young man a heap of coins.
