The Secret Journals of Sherlock Holmes (A&B Crime)
Page 19
‘Indeed it is, Holmes. I wondered how you had managed it. It must take at least a quarter of an hour if one comes by the road.’
‘It is precisely thirteen and a half minutes. I timed it myself yesterday. However, if one takes the short cut across the grounds, it is a mere six minutes. I think we may therefore safely assume that Mr Berkinshaw took the same route on Wednesday afternoon and, having emerged on to the road shortly before Mr Eugene Mortimer was due to arrive at Boxstead Halt at 3.55, waited in the gateway for his victim to pass by. As it is a three-minute walk from the station, it was at two minutes to four that he leapt out upon his victim, strangled him and dragged his body into the field where he concealed it in the bushes. If one allows five minutes for the murder to be committed and another six for Berkinshaw to return by the same path to the Grange, we can estimate that he arrived at twelve minutes past four. This gave him time to dismantle the dummy, conceal the wig and the metronome once more inside the valise before, putting on his coat, he went to the door to welcome Mr Johnathen Smith, who arrived shortly afterwards at 4.15 from Fordham.
‘Before doing so, Berkinshaw had, of course, first left Mr Eugene Mortimer’s bowler hat in the field to draw attention to the place where the body was concealed and had also distributed about the scene of the crime those pieces of evidence which would point to Mr Smith’s guilt.
‘Indeed, it was these data which confirmed my suspicions.’
‘I do not see why,’ Lestrade protested. ‘You yourself set great store on evidence, Mr Holmes. Well, it was there for all to see in the cigar butt thrown down upon the ground and the button from Mr Smith’s coat caught on the bush close by the body.’
Holmes raised his eyebrows.
‘Quite so, Lestrade. A cigar butt and a coat button! However, as you clearly failed to notice, the butt was not fresh. The tobacco was old and discoloured. Moreover, its end was compacted as if it had been stubbed out in some container, not merely dropped to the ground to burn away or squashed flat with the sole of a boot.
‘As for the button, had you made a careful examination of that, too, you would have observed that the threads attached to it had been snipped off clean, not torn away as one would have expected had it become entangled on the bramble.
‘I therefore came to the conclusion that the evidence had been contrived by Mr Berkinshaw, for only he could have had access to Mr Johnathen Smith’s coat and one of his cigar butts. Mr Smith had called at Mr Berkinshaw’s office for consultations over his late uncle’s will. I have no doubt that, during one of those meetings, Mr Smith smoked a cigar, the butt of which he stubbed out in an ashtray on Mr Berkinshaw’s desk. I am also convinced that, on some pretext or other, Mr Berkinshaw left his office and cut one of the buttons from Mr Smith’s coat which was left hanging in the vestibule.’
During the first part of this account, Mr Berkinshaw had listened in silence, huddled low in his chair, his face still blanched with the horror of that awful moment of guilty recognition when he had seen his double seated at the study window. However, as Holmes continued, the lawyer had regained some of his composure until, as my old friend reached the final part of his narrative, he had quite recovered his self-assurance.
Springing to his feet, he advanced towards us, a smile of triumph lighting up his features.
‘Oh, no, Mr Holmes, this will not do! This will not do at all!’ he declared loudly. ‘I have listened patiently to your explanation and I find it nothing more than a farrago of surmise and speculation. “I have no doubt”! “I am convinced”! That is not proof, sir. As a legal man, allow me to give you a few words of advice. You will have to produce better evidence than that in court if you hope to convince a jury of my guilt.’
‘It was written plain enough on your face,’ Lestrade said, looking much offended by the man’s effrontery.
‘My expression, Inspector?’ Berkinshaw sneered. ‘Are you intending to produce that, too, in court? It was the shock at seeing that dummy of myself, as my defence lawyer will explain. As for the rest of the so-called case against me, it can be as easily demolished as Mr Holmes’ ridiculous mannikin!’
Striding over to the chair, Mr Berkinshaw struck at the dummy with his hand, knocking the blond wig to the floor and overturning the bolster.
‘So much for that!’ cried he. ‘And so much, too, Mr Holmes, for the rest of your proof. It is all circumstantial nonsense! Where are your witnesses? And what, pray, was my motive for murdering Mr Eugene Mortimer?’
He seemed about to strike out at the metronome which was still ticking away on the desk when Holmes seized him by the wrist.
‘I have witnesses, Mr Berkinshaw,’ said he. ‘Two to be precise and both honest citizens. This morning I made enquiries in the Strand where you have your office. Four doors along is a shop selling musical instruments, the proprietor of which is prepared to swear that a fair-haired gentleman, answering your description, purchased a metronome from him on Tuesday morning, the day before the murder. Further enquiries at a theatrical costumier’s in nearby King Street established the fact that on the same morning a gentleman of a similar appearance bought a blond wig. It was at these two shops I made my own purchases. You should have gone further afield, Mr Berkinshaw. It was a great mistake on your part to patronise the shops in your immediate neighbourhood.
‘I have so far not traced the cord used to strangle Mr Mortimer. The official police may have better luck or you may have already had it in your possession.
‘As for motive, I suggest Inspector Lestrade asks an auditor to examine the accounts of the late Mr Franklin Mortimer’s estate. I believe he will find certain discrepancies. Ah, I thought so!’ he added softly as, with a cry of despair, Mr Berkinshaw broke free of Holmes’ grasp and made a rush at the door.
‘After him, Jenks!’ Lestrade shouted, setting off in pursuit.
By the time Holmes and I had joined them in the hall, the two police officers had cornered Berkinshaw and Inspector Lestrade was in the act of snapping a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.
He made no further attempt at resistance and did not even look in our direction as, head hanging low, he was escorted out of the house to the waiting four-wheeler.
‘Holmes,’ said I when the door closed behind them, ‘what made you suspect Berkinshaw was taking money from the Mortimer estate? Or was it merely a shot in the dark?’
‘My dear fellow,’ he replied, ‘I never make the mistake of firing entirely at random. One should always have one’s target well within one’s sights before pulling the trigger. I had Mr Berkinshaw in mine when he called on us at Baker Street.’
‘For what reason?’
‘His appearance.’
‘How, exactly?’
‘To be precise, his coat, his shirt, his watch. I wondered then how he could afford to have his morning-suit made in Savile Row, his linen in Jermyn Street,7 or to purchase so splendid a gold hunter, costing at least twenty-five guineas. In short, his tastes were extravagant. So the first seeds of doubt concerning Mr Berkinshaw were sown in my mind. Therefore, this morning, when carrying out my enquiries in the Strand, I made a point of calling on another solicitor who has an office almost next door to his. There is no one quite like a business rival to gossip about the affairs of a competitor. From him, I learnt that Mr Berkinshaw, who is a bachelor, has a house in Eaton Place and a half-share in a racehorse he keeps at a stable in Newmarket. It was quite clear that he lived in a style more suitable to a gentleman of private means.
‘It was also clear from his attentions to Mrs Mortimer that he had designs in that direction. I confess that, being of a sceptical turn of mind, I wondered if it were simply her physical charms which had attracted him or the thought that, if her husband were dead and Johnathen Smith, the other heir, hanged for his murder, she would be the sole successor to the Mortimer fortune. By marrying her, he would not only gain access to that wealth but could cover up the traces of those sums of money he had been secretly extracting from the family estate.’
Holmes smiled indulgently.
‘I know what you are thinking, Watson. As an incurable romantic you are hoping that Mrs Mortimer and Johnathen Smith will marry and that all will end happily to the merry peal of wedding bells. I am afraid life rarely provides such satisfactory conclusions. And now, my dear fellow, if we step out smartly we should be in time to catch the 5.45 train to London. For my part, I wish for no happier ending than to arrive in Baker Street in time for supper.’
Holmes was correct in both his reading of my thoughts and his prediction regarding Mrs Mortimer’s future.
She did marry again but not Johnathen Smith.
About a year later, a notice in The Times announced her forthcoming wedding to a Mr Clement Windthrop, about whom I know nothing. I trust she and her small son have found the happiness they so richly deserve after the tragedy which befell them. For that reason, I shall refrain from publishing an account of the case, depositing it instead among my confidential papers.8
1 Inspector Tobias Gregson, whom Mr Sherlock Holmes refers to as ‘the smartest of the Scotland Yarders’, investigated several cases in which Mr Holmes was also involved. They are ‘The Sign of Four’, ‘A Study in Scarlet’, ‘The Adventure of the Greek Interpreter’, ‘The Adventure of the Red Circle’ and ‘Wisteria Lodge’. Dr John F. Watson.
2 Bradshaw’s Railway Guide, giving train timetables, was published monthly. Dr John F. Watson.
3 Christie and Manson’s Auction Rooms were situated off St James’s Square and were well known for their sales of art treasures. In ‘The Adventure of the Illustrious Client’, Mr Sherlock Holmes says of a Ming saucer: ‘No finer piece ever passed through Christie’s.’ Dr John F. Watson.
4 Rigor mortis, which becomes fully established in about twelve hours, lasts for a further twelve before taking the same number of hours to pass off. Dr John F. Watson.
5 In ‘The Boscombe Valley Mystery’, Mr Sherlock Holmes refers to circumstantial evidence as ‘a very tricky thing’ which ‘may seem to point straight to one thing, but if you shift your point of view a little, you may find it pointing in an equally uncompromising manner to something entirely different.’ Dr John F. Watson.
6 From the information given here by Mr Sherlock Holmes, I have constructed a similar device using a metronome and a slip of paper and I can assure readers that it works satisfactorily. Dr John F. Watson.
7 Mr Sherlock Holmes may be referring to the exclusive tailoring firm of Henry Poole and Company of 36–39 Savile Row, which had royal warrants from both Queen Victoria and the Prince of Wales. The firm of Skinner and Company, also patronised by Prince Edward, had premises at 57 Jermyn Street. Dr John F. Watson.
8 In ‘The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez’, Dr John H. Watson makes only a passing reference to the Smith-Mortimer succession in a list of other cases which took place in 1894 and of which he has kept the notes. Dr John F. Watson.
THE CASE OF THE MAUPERTUIS SCANDAL
I
‘What do you know about diamonds, Watson?’ my old friend Sherlock Holmes asked abruptly.
It was a cold, blustery afternoon in late March 1887 and Holmes had been sitting in silence for several hours, sunk low in his armchair by the fire in a state of utter exhaustion, a condition which had persisted, much to my secret alarm, for several weeks.
From the number of occasions he had been absent from our Baker Street lodgings, at times for periods lasting several days, I had already deduced that he was engaged in some important and complex investigation which he had not seen fit to confide in me. However, I was ill prepared for the extraordinary revelations which were to follow upon that curt enquiry.
‘Very little,’ I replied, laying aside the Morning Post. His next question was as unexpected.
‘Then I assume the name Baron Maupertuis means nothing to you?’
‘I have not heard of him. Is he a client?’
Holmes gave a short, bitter laugh.
‘Hardly, my dear fellow. He is the most accomplished swindler in the whole of Europe whom I have been given the task of exposing. You may recall that about six weeks ago in February, I received an anonymous visitor. Because the matter was highly confidential, I asked you to be kind enough to absent yourself.’
‘I saw him getting out of a cab as I was leaving for my club. He was a tall, middle-aged gentleman, was he not, wearing gold pince-nez and an overcoat with an astrakhan collar? I thought he looked somewhat foreign in appearance.’
Holmes laughed again, this time with genuine amusement.
‘Capital, Watson! I see you have acquired some skills of observation. Well, that gentleman was Monsieur Henri Rogissart, the French Minister of Finance, and he was in this country to confer privately with officials in our own Treasury about a situation which is causing considerable disquiet among European financiers and politicians. But without the necessary evidence, there was very little our government could then do except take note of the circumstances and advise Monsieur Rogissart to consult me.
‘The story he had to tell was quite remarkable. It concerned a business venture, the Netherland-Sumatra Company, which was set up a year ago by Baron Maupertuis. The Baron claims that he has discovered a method of manufacturing diamonds which are indistinguishable from real gems.’
‘Is that possible, Holmes?’
‘It is certainly not beyond the bounds of credibility. Seven years ago, a Scottish chemist, James Hannay, made a similar claim. He placed a mixture of paraffin, lithium and bone-meal inside wrought-iron tubes and subjected it to great heat. In three of his experiments, he found particles which experts pronounced were indeed diamonds.1
‘It may have been Hannay’s apparent success which persuaded the Baron to set up his own laboratory near the Hague, using a similar method with the addition of a secret chemical ingredient which he says is found only in Sumatra and which he has especially imported at great cost. Hence the name, the Netherland-Sumatra Company.
‘It is in this laboratory, he alleges, that he manufactures not diamond particles but stones weighing approximately a quarter of a carat which, when cut and polished, would produce a gem about half that weight. He further claims that, given the money to expand his laboratory and refine the method, he could produce even bigger diamonds. It was in order to raise the capital for this expansion that he started the company and invited private individuals to invest money in it. The minimum stake is the equivalent of £500.
‘Anyone who buys shares is given one of these smaller uncut gems, with the promise of an even larger stone in the future, once the improvements have been made.’
‘Are they real diamonds?’
‘Oh, assuredly, Watson. There lies the cunning of the scheme. It is a perfectly genuine stone, as any expert will attest. As far as I can ascertain, Baron Maupertuis has by this means persuaded over six hundred shareholders in three different countries, France, Germany and Italy, to invest more than £300,000 in his company, a very large sum indeed. The venture appeals, you see, to two fundamental human weaknesses: greed and a sense of exclusiveness. The company is private; it does not advertise and, in order to become a shareholder, one must be recommended. The Baron, who moves from country to country, always staying at the best hotels, personally interviews each potential investor. Not all are thought worthy. Those who are accepted are given one of the diamonds and invited to inspect the premises where the gem was allegedly made. I understand from those who have made the tour that the laboratory is impressive. They gave the most glowing reports which are, of course, passed on by word of mouth to their wealthy friends. In consequence, the Baron is never short of eager clients clamouring to put their money into his company, from whom he carefully selects those who are the most greedy and gullible. They are less likely to question his business methods.
‘In addition, those who were among the first to invest in the scheme are kept content by receiving monthly bulletins descri
bing the continuing success of the Netherland-Sumatra Company and, after six months, an even larger diamond as proof. They therefore have no cause to complain or suspect the Baron of deceit.’2
‘Just a moment, Holmes!’ I broke in. ‘If the company is fraudulent, I assume he is not manufacturing diamonds in his laboratory.’
‘Certainly not. I thought you had understood that. It is the whole point of the deception.’
‘Then how is he acquiring the diamonds which he gives to his shareholders and which you say are genuine?’
‘Bravo, Watson! That is, of course, the logical question to ask. The answer is obvious. They are stolen. During the past few weeks, I have paid several visits to the Continent to enquire into that very aspect of the case. It has not been easy. The Baron has covered his tracks most cunningly. However, after a long and exhausting investigation, I discovered that three years ago there was a series of burglaries at diamond merchants’ or jewellers’ in a number of cities across Europe in which a large quantity of uncut stones were stolen. The robberies, which were carried out by a professional safe-breaker, were confined to countries in the east of the Continent, such as Russia and Poland. At the time, they received little notice in the newspapers of, say, France or Italy and were soon forgotten once the raids had ceased.
‘When Baron Maupertuis started his company, who in Cologne or Milan would remember a robbery which had taken place three years before in St Petersburg or Warsaw? Certainly not his shareholders. His merchandise therefore cost him nothing, while the capital raised from the sale of the shares is placed in a numbered Swiss bank account. The interest gained by it is used to meet the Baron’s expenses, such as hotel bills and the cost of maintaining his laboratory. There are also his accomplices to pay, who include the two so-called specialists who are supposedly manufacturing the diamonds and the professional burglar who carried out the robberies. So the venture not only finances itself but the capital grows with each new investor. Is it not ingenious, Watson? Much as one deplores the crime, one cannot help admiring the brilliance of the mind which conceived it. Had he chosen to use that financial genius for legitimate ends, he could have been another Rockefeller or a Rothschild.’