by John Hall
‘Not one of the local lads, I think,’ said Holmes, ‘for all that the writing looks unpolished. The spelling is wrong, but the syntax is perfect.’
‘Mr Holmes?’
‘I beg your pardon, Lestrade. I was looking at it purely as an intellectual problem, and quite forgetting the distress it has caused your wife. Why not get out of London for a while?’ said Holmes. ‘Watson here would prescribe the shingle of Southend, I think.’
‘Southsea, Holmes,’ said I. ‘But there are only three letters between them, and, since you mention Southend, I recall that one of Mrs Hudson’s cronies has a lodging house there. Mrs Turner, who, you will recall, owned this house before Mrs Hudson. A pleasant enough establishment, the “Bide A Wee Guest House” by name.’
Lestrade shuddered.
‘It is clean,’ said I. ‘And cheap. And the food is excellent, particularly breakfast, what with Mrs Turner’s being a Scotchwoman. And more to the point, it is quiet, being out of season.’
‘Capital!’ said Holmes. ‘What say you, Lestrade?’
‘Well, I could do with a rest from all this upset, and that’s a fact. And the wife, she needs a break. Do you know, Doctor, I think I’ll take your advice.’
The matter was quickly arranged, and the Lestrades left for Southend the following day. Holmes and I discussed the matter, but could not see what we might do that would help Lestrade in the least. Holmes eventually gave the matter up, saying that he had other business in hand just at the moment. Frankly, I strongly suspected that he was more or less washing his hands of Lestrade, and equally frankly I could not blame him, for it all seemed very dismal, and it did not look as if all our efforts could produce any gleam of light. Only one very remote possibility suggested itself to my mind, and by the time that occurred it was too late for me to do anything about it, although I resolved to follow up that particular clue as soon as may be.
Late in the evening of the day after the Lestrades had left London, there came a knock at our door, and Inspector Alec MacDonald came in. Holmes and I greeted him warmly, for he was an old friend, but MacDonald was in no mood to spend time on idle conversation. ‘The next-door neighbours told me that Inspector Lestrade is off on a little holiday,’ he began, ‘but they had not his address. I wondered, since he is by way of being a friend of yours, if you knew his whereabouts?’
‘Watson, I think, can supply the information you seek,’ said Holmes.
‘Aye.’ MacDonald looked embarrassed. ‘The thing is — you’ll be well aware that Inspector Lestrade is in a spot of bother over this Clayton business?’
‘We are,’ said Holmes.
‘Aye. Well, it’s like this, Mr Holmes, there’s a spot of bother. We’ve had a report of a missing boy, a lad of seven, in the East End.’
‘Good Lord!’ said I.
MacDonald nodded. ‘My sentiments exactly,’ he said drily. ‘Now, it would be bad enough in the ordinary way of things, but, as it is — ’
‘Just so,’ said Holmes.
‘I went round to Lestrade’s house, as I say, to tip him the wink, unofficial, like, since I know that he’ll want to know about it, but of course he’s away. He should by rights have left a forwarding address at the Yard, but I expect he was too flustered. So I thought, with you being friends of his — ’
‘You wish us to inform him?’ I asked.
‘It would be a kindness, sir.’
‘Who is in charge of the case?’ Holmes put in.
‘I have been put in charge of it myself. But I thought perhaps a telegram from you — ’
But Holmes was already scribbling furiously on a telegraph pad, and calling for the page boy.
FIVE
‘Will you come with me, Mr Holmes? And you too, Doctor?’ Lestrade looked anxiously from one to the other of us.
It was mid-morning on the day after MacDonald had called upon us. Holmes had sent his telegram late the previous evening. Lestrade had, he told me, received it just as he was about to go to bed, and had taken the first train he could catch in the morning, after, as he put it, tossing and turning all night with devil a wink of sleep.
Holmes had been out on some mysterious errand when Lestrade first arrived, and the detective had fretted abominably until my friend returned. Now Holmes, who had not had time to remove his hat and coat, looked at Lestrade and asked, ‘And what exactly would you want us to do?’
‘Just back me up, Mr Holmes. That’s all. You, and Doctor Watson here, are well enough known at the Yard. If I can say that you have agreed to work alongside me, that will carry a great deal of weight.’
‘You really intend to confront the assistant commissioner?’ said Holmes.
‘I do, sir. Confront him, and ask to be reinstated, to be put back on duty. No, not ask, but demand! Aye, and demand to be put in charge of the case, what’s more. It’s my case, when all’s said and done, for I’m the only man still alive and on the force who was involved in the earlier business.’
‘You are sure that Clayton is at the back of this latest disappearance?’ asked Holmes.
Lestrade nodded. ‘Certain sure, Mr Holmes.’
I said, ‘It might be mere coincidence, Lestrade.’
‘Coincidence be damned! Begging your pardon, Doctor Watson, but I know this rogue Clayton. If it’s not him then my name’s not Lestrade, and that’s an end of it.’
‘Watson is right, I think,’ said Holmes calmly. ‘This fellow Clayton would, after all, be rather foolish to resume his old ways so soon after his release and the concomitant fuss, and especially with the eyes of the world upon him, as it were. And that is to assume that he was guilty in the earlier case.’
‘Ah,’ said Lestrade, ‘but that’s his way, sir. I told you he was cocksure. This is exactly the sort of thing he would do, thumb his nose at those who have trusted him. Rub it in, so to speak.’
Holmes shook his head. ‘I can think offhand of at least six explanations for the boy’s disappearance,’ said he.
Lestrade stared at him. ‘Six? And how many of those would involve Clayton?’
‘Well, two,’ said Holmes reluctantly. He added quickly, ‘But they are perhaps the least likely two.’
‘Be that as it may,’ said Lestrade stubbornly, ‘I want to take over this case.’
Holmes shrugged. ‘If you are set on it,’ said he, ‘Watson and I shall certainly do what we can to assist you.’
‘I shall send Billy for a cab,’ I said.
On the short drive to Scotland Yard, Holmes asked Les-trade, ‘Has Mrs Lestrade returned to London with you?’
Lestrade shook his head. ‘She said she could not face what might happen, sir, and I cannot say that I blame her. Indeed, I can’t say I relish the thought of staying in the house by myself. Not that I’m a coward, if it were a matter of fists or boots in broad daylight, I’d have no hesitation, for that’s all part of the job. But this other business, nasty anonymous letters, foul stuff left on your doorstep, and what have you, it unnerves you, and there’s no denying that.’
‘Why not stay with us?’ I suggested.
‘Oh, I couldn’t think of any such thing.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Holmes. ‘Watson is right, as usual. You must bring your traps along to 221B, as soon as may be.’
‘You have no room.’
‘You can use one of the lumber rooms.’
‘If you don’t mind being surrounded by old newspapers,’ I added.
‘Oh, Billy can do something with them, I am sure, for he is an enterprising lad. Anyway, you evidently find the newspapers comfortable enough,’ said Holmes, ‘for I found you asleep on top of them last week.’
‘Stuff and nonsense, Holmes! I was merely resting after spending a hectic morning looking up an old report. No, it would make but a poor lodging up there, I fear.’
‘Well, then, perhaps Lestrade could share with you pro tem?
‘As soon as we return I shall give Billy a hand to clear a space upstairs,’ said I hastily.
‘Tha
t is quite settled, then,’ said Holmes, ‘and we shall expect you this evening, Lestrade. Ah, here we are,’ he went on, as the cab drew up outside the familiar building.
I had not previously had the opportunity to see Lestrade in what I might call his natural element. I have some vague recollection that Holmes once described him as being tenacious as a lobster, and I now had a chance to see that tenacity in action. Lestrade blustered, and bullied, and wheedled, and cajoled, and within ten minutes he, Holmes, MacDonald and I were all ushered in to the august presence of the assistant commissioner.
‘What’s all this about, Lestrade?’ asked the assistant commissioner. He was one of the old school, a former military man with a back like a ramrod and a tiny, stubby moustache which he stroked frequently as an aid to thought, unless perhaps he was a student of Epicurean speculative philosophy and wanted to encourage its growth. ‘What the devil are you doing here?’
‘I want to be put on to this case of the boy who has vanished,’ said Lestrade bluntly.
‘Oh? And how the devil d’you know anyone has vanished? The matter has been kept quiet. Or at least, such were my instructions.’
‘Mr Sherlock Holmes — ’
‘Ah.’ The assistant commissioner’s tone lost some of its abrasive quality. ‘We know you, of course, Mr Holmes.’ He looked at MacDonald. ‘Though I cannot imagine how you come to know of this matter. Still, that’s neither here nor there.’ His gaze moved back to Lestrade. ‘And why should I put you in charge of the case? I understand that MacDonald here has already been told that it is his case?’
‘There’s not a better man on the force than Alec MacDonald, sir,’ said Lestrade, ‘but, and with the greatest possible respect to him, and to you, he was not involved in the original case, and I was.’
‘You think this has something to do with Clayton, then?’ asked the assistant commissioner.
‘I think it has everything to do with him, sir.’
‘H’mm.’ The assistant commissioner tapped upon his blotter with a silver pencil. ‘You’ll be aware that some harsh things have already been said in the newspapers about our handling of the Clayton case?’
‘I am well aware of it, sir.’
‘And you are further aware that if this new business is not properly handled it will blow up in all our faces?’
‘I am, sir.’
The assistant commissioner tapped his pencil on the blotter again. ‘What say you to all this, MacDonald?’
‘It might be a very nasty business, sir, whether Clayton is involved or no. The disappearance of a child, and all. I cannot say that I would exactly fight Inspector Lestrade for the privilege of being in charge of the case.’
‘A canny summing-up.’ The assistant commissioner tapped his pencil one last time, and came to a sudden decision. ‘Very well. You, Lestrade, are in charge of the case, and you, MacDonald, will work with him, and to his instructions, when needed. Is that agreeable to you both?’
‘It is, sir,’ said MacDonald.
And Lestrade, delighted, said, ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Mind you, Lestrade,’ the assistant commissioner went on, ‘if there is any nonsense about this case, any criticism in the newspapers or anything, I shall prepare the charges against you myself.’
As we left the assistant commissioner’s office, Lestrade asked MacDonald, ‘You really have no objection to my being in charge of the case?’
‘Indeed not,’ answered MacDonald with a wry smile. ‘As I told the chief, it is likely to prove an awkward business. Not the sort of case that would enhance a man’s reputation.’
‘And mine is already sufficiently tarnished that it cannot get worse?’ said Lestrade.
MacDonald gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I would not have said as much.’ He became businesslike. ‘What are your instructions, Inspector?’
‘What other cases have you in hand at the moment?’
‘Nothing very pressing, or not compared with this. There has been a spate of puzzling robberies, all evidently by the same person, that’s clear enough, but with a great disparity in what has been taken. Valuable stuff one day, and just rubbish the next, with no rhyme or reason to it.’
‘H’mm.’ Lestrade thought. ‘That sounds as if it should be something I know about, but I can’t quite bring the facts to mind. Still, that’s nothing compared with this other business, so we’ll leave that for the time being, and concentrate on this matter of the missing boy. Is that agreeable to you?’
‘It is,’ said MacDonald.
‘First and foremost, then, I want that scoundrel Clayton brought in.’
MacDonald stared at him. ‘D’you think that’s altogether a wise thing to do, Inspector? The affair is surely dangerous enough as it is?’
‘That’s as maybe,’ said Lestrade stubbornly. ‘It’s my neck on the chopping block, so I may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.’
‘Something of a mixed metaphor there, Lestrade,’ I protested.
He regarded me with some irritation. ‘That being the case,’ he continued, ‘I’d be grateful, Inspector MacDonald, if you would feel Clayton’s collar for me. Just you fetch him along, and we’ll ask him to give an account of himself. Keep him snug and safe in a cell until I return. I’m off to see the lad’s family, and it will do Clayton no harm to think about what he wants to tell us.’
‘I must tell you,’ said MacDonald, ‘that I have already had Clayton followed.’
‘Oh?’ This was clearly news to Lestrade. ‘And why, pray?’
‘Just out of interest,’ said MacDonald, almost defensively.’ I was by no means satisfied with what I read of the old case,’ he went on. ‘Were it my case, I doubt if it would have come to court, and that’s a fact. But for all that, I’m a policeman too, and I don’t like some of the things that have been said in the papers about you, Inspector Lestrade. So, I thought it as well to detail one of my men to keep an eye on Clayton.’
‘And?’
‘And he reports that the fellow’s done nothing at all suspicious.’
‘Has your man kept a constant watch, then?’ asked Lestrade.
MacDonald shook his head. ‘I could not spare more than the one man, and naturally he cannot keep watch every hour of the day.’
‘Then, despite your advice, which I value, and your help and solicitude, which I value even more, I’d be grateful if you could bring Clayton in,’ said Lestrade, after a moment’s thought. ‘Be polite to him if you wish, but I’d like a word.’
MacDonald shrugged. ‘As you wish.’ He nodded to Holmes and me, and went on his way.
‘After all,’ said Lestrade more calmly, ‘Clayton has had his say, and now it’s my turn. If nothing else, we can at least eliminate him from our enquiries. Will you come along and see the boy’s parents?’
Holmes nodded, and Lestrade hailed a cab. As we set off for the East End, Lestrade asked Holmes, ‘You mentioned five or six possible explanations for the boy’s disappearance, Mr Holmes?’
‘I did. Firstly, of course, there is the possibility that he has vanished more or less legitimately, he has run away from home, or met with an accident. That is surely the most likely explanation?’
‘Coincidence, if it were so,’ Lestrade pointed out.
‘Ah, but life is full of coincidences. Ask Watson, his stories are almost entirely dependent upon them!’
‘Be that as it may,’ said Lestrade, ‘it is odd that the boy should choose to run away just now. However, it is, as you say, an obvious possibility, and it is one which we have not dismissed. In fact I have a couple of sergeants and a dozen constables standing ready to make house to house enquiries, knock on all the doors in the neighbourhood, should it prove necessary.’
‘That is as well,’ said Holmes.
‘And your other theories?’ asked Lestrade, with a wink at me.
‘Well,’ Holmes went on, ‘there is the possibility that Clayton is indeed, as you seem to think, involved. Now, that does strike me as a monstrous coincidence. He is
surely not so full of his own cleverness that he would risk drawing attention to himself by resuming his old ways — assuming for one moment that they were his old ways. The appeal court thought they were not, remember.’
Lestrade gave a grunt of annoyance. ‘It has something to do with him, mark my words,’ said he.
‘I agree that it may,’ said Holmes, ‘although not in the way you mean.’
‘How, then?’
‘Well, does it not occur to you that Clayton, or some of his “decadent” friends, may have arranged for the boy to be taken and hidden away safely somewhere, precisely so that you would arrest Clayton? There is the matter of that vile note, which was, I assure you, written by an educated man pretending to be all but illiterate. Then, when Clayton shows conclusively that he was elsewhere at the time the boy vanished, you will be left looking even more — that is to say, left looking ridiculous. He is sure to have an iron-clad, copper-bottomed, watertight alibi, mark my words. A nautical metaphor for you there, Watson,’ he added.
‘And what if Clayton knows nothing about what his so-called friends have done on his behalf?’ I asked.
‘The end result is the same,’ said Holmes, ‘save that Clayton cannot be touched, even for obstructing the police.’
‘I had not thought of that,’ confessed Lestrade. ‘But you are right, Mr Holmes. That is exactly the sort of thing that the devious little — fellow — or maybe some of his friends, would dream up.’
‘And did you not also mention another man, the father of one of the boys who vanished twenty years back?’ said Holmes. ‘Might he not have taken this latest victim, in order to cast suspicion upon Clayton?’
‘Good Lord!’ said Lestrade. ‘Tatton, yes. I hadn’t thought of him, but now you mention him, it’s true that he was very much down on Clayton. Well, I’ll have him brought in as well.’
The cab turned into the maze of narrow streets and alleys that lies between Commercial Road and the Ratcliff Highway, and stopped at the entrance to a little court. ‘Can’t get the cab in there, gents,’ the driver told us.
