by Ashton, Hugh
“What?” I exclaimed, but Holmes was given no chance to answer me, as Inspector Hopkins, accompanied by half a dozen of his men, some of whom were carrying bulky sackcloth-wrapped bundles, made their way to the front door, and Holmes moved to admit them.
“Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” Hopkins said to him. “As you suggested, I ordered a special train and came here immediately. The accommodation is already reserved by now, I trust, and Jessup here,” indicating one of his men, “will escort the Aldertons there.”
“And are you prepared for the evening’s entertainment?”
“We are armed and ready to meet what may come our way,” Hopkins said stoutly.
“Very well. Then let us wait until the Aldertons are ready to depart. Then the fun will start.”
It was at least thirty minutes before Alderton reappeared to inform us that he and his wife were ready, during which time Hopkins’ men had dispersed themselves around the house, standing guard at the entrances. As Hopkins had informed us, one of the police officers summoned a four-wheeler, and the Aldertons took their places inside, while the maid sat with the driver. Mrs. Wiles, the cook, was seen off the premises by another policeman.
“Good,” remarked Holmes. “We have at least secured their safety. I am convinced they know nothing.”
“No more do I,” I complained. “What is happening, and what did you mean when you told me that Mahoney is in this house? We have not seen or heard anything that would lead us to that belief.”
“There are other senses beyond those of hearing and sight,” Holmes remarked to me.
I considered this. “I now comprehend you. How horrible to contemplate.”
“We must act while there is still daylight,” Holmes told Hopkins. “Your men have brought suitable tools with them, I perceive.”
“Indeed so, just as you requested, Mr. Holmes.”
“Let us test their suitability, then,” replied Holmes, and led us to the conservatory.
The stench was as foul as I remembered, and Hopkins commented, “It is hard to believe that no-one recognised this,” he remarked. “Very good, men. You may tie the cloths about your faces, and dig where Mr. Holmes directs.”
“There, and there,” Holmes told them, pointing to two spots some six feet apart on the conservatory floor. Dig gently, and extend the hole towards the other party.”
A few minutes’ excavation revealed a ghastly sight. A body, in a state of some decay, but with the face still just recognisable as that of Mahoney, was lying in a shallow cavity beneath the floor of the conservatory. It was possible to make out that the deceased had suffered a heavy blow to the head—so heavy, indeed, that the skull appeared to have been crushed at the point of impact. The constables turned away in disgust, as did Hopkins. Holmes stood his ground, but I could tell that the sight had affected him also. As for me, I should have been inured to such sights, having seen my share and more of battlefields, but my stomach heaved, and it was all I could do to keep myself from disgrace.
“I had not expected him to be in such a state,” Holmes admitted. “One of you men, summon the mortuary van, and warn them what to expect.” He extracted a handkerchief from his pocket and tied it about his face. “I do not expect this to repay any dividends,” he said, “but it must be done.” He bent to the loathsome corpse, and ran his hands through the tattered rags that draped its form. Eventually, he stood up and ripped the cloth from his face, revealing an expression of disgust. “I must wash,” he said briefly, and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
“No point in standing here, men,” Hopkins said to the police officers. “Go back to your places and keep watch.” The men moved off, with expressions of relief. “Come, Doctor,” he said to me. “Let us await Holmes in the drawing-room. I take it that we have just viewed the remains of Monsignor Mahoney?”
“I would not give my oath in court about that without further examination, which I am reluctant to carry out,” I answered him, “but I would lay a considerable sum of money on it. The general physique, what I could make out of the hair and what remained of the facial features, would all lead me to that conclusion.”
“And who put him there? And why?”
“There we will have to wait for Sherlock Holmes’ theories. I have none of my own.”
At that moment, Holmes entered. His face was pale, and he was perspiring slightly. “Many pardons. I had hoped by now that I was accustomed to such sights, but it appears that there are still some that affect me. Watson, do you think that Alderton would object if we were to take a small amount of the spirits I see in the decanter there? From the colour I would guess it to be an old brandy, and I feel we are all in need of a small restorative, are we not?”
“We can easily make good any losses,” I smiled, moving to the decanter and pouring some of the drink into three glasses.
“Ah, thank you,” Holmes said, accepting his drink. “I feel a little better now. These weaknesses may be nothing of which I should feel ashamed, maybe, but it is hard to see them in any other light. Well, as I prophesied some months ago, Mahoney put his life in jeopardy when he fled Ledbury Hall. I can only assume that his whiskey-drinking friends were the agents of his death, quite possibly in search of the letter, which, of course, they did not find.”
“How do you know they did not find it?”
“Because, my dear Hopkins, the supposed tramps and the applicants for the servants’ post were all sent to look for this letter. The discovery of Mahoney’s body has cleared up a number of mysteries.”
“I can see that we now know his fate,” said Hopkins. “What other problems have been laid to rest?”
“We can be certain that those who were responsible for his death were those who dispatched the serving-girls to this house, in other words, those posing as Edwards & Lowe, the servant agency.” Holmes related to Hopkins a brief account of our visit to the agency the previous day.
“They are seeking the letter that Mahoney took with him?”
“I can see no other explanation.”
At that moment, we heard the sounds of a scuffle, and raised voices from the area of the kitchen.
“Halloa!” remarked Hopkins. “It would appear we have visitors.”
“One visitor, I would say, judging by the sounds,” Holmes corrected him. “Let us go and interview Mr. O’Reilly, or whatever the name of our visitor transpires to be.”
Don “Juan Alvarez” – Windsor
We made our way to the kitchen, where two of the constables were restraining a struggling figure, who, at the sight of Holmes, ceased his attempts to work free of the restraining arms, and stood, his mouth agape.
“No Irishman here,” said Holmes, looking at the form of Alvarez, whom we had previously seen in his capacity of butler at Ledbury Hall. “This is indeed a surprise, is it not?”
“I had not expected to see you here, Mr. Holmes,” said the Spaniard, in some confusion.
“I confess that your presence here is equally unexpected to me,” said Holmes. “I take it you are not searching for Monsignor Mahoney?”
“Indeed not. I assume you and these gentlemen have discovered his body?” He indicated the constables who had relaxed their grip on him.
“What do you know of that?” Hopkins asked him. “I have half a mind to arrest you on suspicion of the murder of—”
“Gently, now, Hopkins.” Holmes laid a restraining hand on the Scotland yard detective’s sleeve. “I rather fancy that Señor Alvarez is after the same quarry as are we, and for the same reasons. I have very considerable doubts as to whether he was responsible for the death of Monsignor Mahoney. However, I am still mystified as to how he knew how to come here.”
“How do you know this man?” Hopkins asked.
“He is the butler at Ledbury Hall.”
“Allow me to correct you, Mr. Holmes.” Alvarez spoke up. All trace of subservience had vanished from his voice, and his tones were those of a proud Iberian nobleman addressing his equals. “I used to work as
the butler at Ledbury Hall. I am, however, a man with my own private means—you might well refer to me as a ‘gentleman’, and I entered and left Lord Ledbury’s employ of my own free will, albeit at the request of the late Cardinal Tosca. The name Alvarez is not the name I was born with, I need hardly add, but I will not burden you with the full list of my names and titles unless it becomes absolutely necessary for me to do so.”
“You knew Tosca before the unfortunate incidents at Ledbury Hall, then?”
“Indeed I did. I knew him well as a friend. Perhaps you were unaware that in the past he had served as Archbishop of Toledo, my hometown?”
“I believe that Mahoney informed us of that fact. That is where you became acquainted?”
“More than simply becoming acquainted, we became and remained fast friends. Perhaps I may tell you of some of the background to all this?”
Holmes glanced at Hopkins, who nodded his assent.
“May we sit comfortably in the drawing-room or some place other than here?” asked Alvarez. “I have no intention of attempting escape, I assure you, Inspector, and I am sure my story will be of interest, even though it is a little lengthy.”
“Very well,” Hopkins answered him, and we thereupon made our way to the drawing-room, where Alvarez, now installed in an armchair, with a constable flanking him on either side, continued with his story.
“My family is of some consequence in the area, and we met socially on a number of occasions attended by others of our class. We shared a common interest in music, and a liking for the vintages of the area—though I never saw him drink to excess, you understand, he was a connoisseur of wine. One circumstance particularly attracted his attention—the fact that my mother was English, and I therefore was brought up to speak English and Castilian with equal fluency. We exchanged views on a variety of different subjects, and he was especially interested in the aristocracy of this country who had preserved the faith of their forebears, of which my mother was an example.
“He preserved the hope that this country would once again return to the fold of Rome and place itself under the care of the Holy Father. As you know, this seemed for a long time to be a fantasy only, with little basis in reality. But then Tosca, living in Rome, but with whom I maintained contact through letters, discovered that one of the British Royal family had an interest in returning Britain to Rome. Even though this might appear a remote possibility to some, Tosca believed that it was worthy of his attention, and proposed that he visit England at some time to explore the situation in some more detail.
“Naturally, if his visit were to take place, it would be necessary for it to be undertaken somewhat sub rosa, and to that end, he it would be necessary for him to stay at a private house, rather than involving the hierarchy here in the business. Ledbury Hall would be the obvious place chosen by the British government, given Lord Ledbury’s connections with the Vatican, and Tosca proposed to me that I should undertake, on behalf of the Church, the somewhat unusual mission and adopt the strange, for me, temporary calling in which I first met you. The Cardinal felt that it would be useful for him to know the contents of the discussions between Lord Ledbury and the other members of the English establishment when he was not present. To that end, he could either suborn one of Lord Ledbury’s servants, or he could introduce his own agent into the household and keep an eye on events through such an agent.
“The choice fell on me, for the reasons I have just described. However, I can tell you that the goals of His Eminence were not the same as mine. Though my sympathies are naturally with Mother Church, my experience of life and of men had taught me that such a move as Tosca was seeking to promote would result in something approaching disaster. His Eminence, though a good man, had lived a somewhat unworldly cloistered life by many standards, and I think that he failed to foresee some of the practical difficulties of his project. When he proposed this plan to me, my first instinct was to refuse, despite our friendship. When I came to consider the matter a little more closely, however, it seemed to me that I could save His Eminence from his own well-intentioned plans, which seemed to me to have little or no chance of the success he anticipated for them. Were he to fail, as I suspected would be the case, at his attempted scheme of reconciliation, his standing within the Vatican would be low. As it was, my aim was to be less than truthful when it came to reporting the conversations between Lord Ledbury and the English politicians. By presenting a somewhat more gloomy picture of the situation than was actually the case, I hoped to be somewhat of a brake on the process.
“As it turned out, it was relatively easy for me to achieve the goal of employment at Ledbury Hall. When I was younger, my parents had employed an English butler. It was relatively easy for me to imitate his mannerisms and so on, and to pass myself off as an experienced butler. It was easy for me to explain that I possessed some English as well as Spanish blood, which of course is nothing but the truth. I added that I had been working outside England, and His Eminence was kind enough to provide me with references stating that I had been previously in his employ.
“It was clear to me from the start that Lord Ledbury was a good man who saw it as his duty to serve both his country and his Church to the best of his ability, and I told the Cardinal as much in my letters to him. There was no doubt in my mind that he was the perfect host for the Cardinal when he came to visit, not only from the point of view of his extensive political connections, but also because of his equable temperament and his sound judgement.
“It was clear to me, even before the Cardinal’s arrival, after I had listened to some of the discourse between the English politicians when they considered their conversations to be private, that there would be little need for me to present a more pessimistic view of the situation than was actually the case. To a man, including Lord Ledbury, they were against the scheme, and only the fine English sense of fair play and courtesy allowed the Cardinal’s visit to proceed.
“Let me add that there was no personal ill-will at all. Those involved had met Cardinal Tosca on a number of occasions previously, and all expressed their happiness at meeting him again, and their personal goodwill towards him.
“When the Cardinal arrived, though, I was filled with dismay. Though I knew that Monsignor Mahoney was attached to the Cardinal’s household, I had not expected to see him in England on a mission of this delicacy.”
“You knew Mahoney previously, then?” Holmes interrupted.
“Yes, indeed. We had met on a number of occasions in Rome, and I can tell you quite frankly, though it may weigh against me in your eyes, that we were not on good terms. He struck me as being a hot-headed kind of man, who through his impulsive actions was quite likely to bring harm to himself and possibly to his master as well. I am sure that you are aware that he was associated with the Fenians—not only to the cause of freeing Ireland from British rule, but also to the cause of violence. I have proof that he was a member of one of the most radical groups in the movement.”
“Proof, you say?” demanded Hopkins. “Can you substantiate that allegation?”
“Indeed I can. This paper may prove of some interest to you.” The man we knew as Alvarez withdrew an envelope from his breast and passed it to the police officer.
“Most interesting,” said Hopkins, after he had opened the envelope, and unfolded and perused the paper contained therein. “Should this paper here prove to be genuine, and the truth of its contents confirmed—“
“You may have no doubts concerning that,” said Alvarez. “This list of names will prove to be completely accurate, rest assured.”
“In that case, Her Majesty’s Government owes you a considerable debt. These names are of great interest to those organs of the Government who are concerned with such matters. I may tell you almost without hesitation that should any charges be brought against you in connection with this matter, this would go a long way in mitigation.”
“If that is an attempt to persuade me to confess my guilt in the business of the death of Mahoney,
I hate to disappoint you, Inspector. I am totally innocent of any involvement in the matter.”
“In that case, how were you aware of Mahoney’s death?” Hopkins demanded.
“Through my presence in a small office in Upper Holland Street, where Mahoney and his conspirators would meet. Naturally, they were unaware of my presence when I learned of his death. The office was known to me previously, as I had been following Mahoney’s movements after my departure from Ledbury Hall.”
“The office was taken in the name of Edwards & Lowe?” Holmes suggested.
Alvarez bowed slightly. “Indeed. That is the name on the door, at any event. I perceive that your reputation is well-deserved, Mr. Holmes. This address in Holland Street was ideal for their purposes. The band had leased two adjoining rooms. These were arranged in such a way that there were two doors, located in a fashion that rendered it impossible to see one from the other, and leading to two separate exits from the building. This allowed members to arrive and depart by separate routes, confident that they would be unseen and unnoticed.”
“I have been there,” Holmes told him.
“Very good. Then you no doubt noticed the tall cupboard beside the door connecting the two rooms, which could be accessed from either side?”
“I did.”
“This was my hiding-place for several days last week. I entered the building in the morning with a small stock of provisions, and spent the day there, letting myself out when the coast was clear. I wished, first and foremost, to discover the whereabouts of Mahoney. Since he had fled Ledbury Hall, I was aware of his whereabouts in this house. For more than several weeks, though, he had not been living here, as the house had been taken by an English couple, and I had not seen him entering the building at Upper Holland Street. It was my belief that he was in possession of papers, which I had not seen, which would set this country at war with itself.
“Though I was frightened of being discovered, I determined to make my entrance at a time when the office was unoccupied, and to listen to any conversations that might take place in the office. To avoid any untoward discovery, I wedged the doors in such a way that it would take time to open them; sufficient time, I hoped, for me to be able to make my escape by means of the other door, should anyone try to force their way into my hiding-place. I heard the gang discussing the death of Mahoney, whom they had killed here in this very house. They had been frantic in their attempts to force him to tell them of the whereabouts of the letter which I am sure you are currently seeking. They are desperate men, and I can assure you that the methods they used to persuade him were brutal. He succumbed to their torments and died in agony, if their account is to be believed. What I heard made me even more afraid for myself should my hiding-place be revealed.”
