The Secret Notebooks of Sherlock Holmes

by June Thomson

  ‘Excellent, Watson!’ Holmes exclaimed. ‘Your powers of deduction improve by the hour! I can see I shall soon have to look to my own laurels. For you are quite right, my dear fellow. Whitey Johnson, who was incidentally a genuine cripple, took no part in the actual robbery. His role was more of a diversionary nature, as I discovered when I interviewed the victims. In other words, to use the language of the criminal underworld, he acted as the “stall”. Two out of the four shopkeepers had been impeded in their pursuit of the thief by a man with a crutch who had stepped out in front of them at a crucial stage of the chase, allowing the robber to get clean away, although neither of them thought these incidents were deliberate and had failed to mention them to Lestrade. It was only when I pressed them for further details, however trivial, that either of them mentioned it. But, in fact, the man with the crutch played an even more significant role in the robberies than that of a mere “stall”. I wonder, my dear Watson, if you, with your enhanced powers of deduction, can suggest what that role might have been? You look puzzled. Then consider the facts. Firstly, what items of jewellery were the thieves interested in stealing?’

  ‘They were rings, were they not, Holmes?’

  ‘Quite so. They never asked to look at bracelets or necklaces or even brooches. Always rings. Now consider one other factor – the crutch which the third member of the gang carried. What was it made of?’

  ‘Wood?’ I suggested, considerably mystified by this aspect of the case. What possible significance could the material of which the crutch was constructed have on the bearing of the matter?

  ‘No, no, Watson!’ Holmes corrected me with a touch of impatience. ‘Remember what I said to you earlier. It was an aluminium crutch. Aluminium! That is of great, if not crucial importance, to the whole affair. Now do you make the connection?’

  ‘I am afraid not, Holmes,’ I replied, feeling abashed.

  ‘Pray do not trouble yourself, my dear fellow. The solution may come to you later. For the moment, allow me to continue with my account. I now knew that I was dealing with a gang of professional thieves, three in number, which consisted of a woman and two men, one of whom was possibly a cripple, although at that stage in the inquiry, I could not be positive about this particular fact.

  ‘Now at that time, I had already recruited my own little gang of street urchins, whom you are already acquainted with, Watson.’

  ‘The Baker Street Irregulars!’4 I cried, recognising them at once. ‘If I remember correctly, they found Jefferson Hope’s cab and traced the whereabouts of the steam launch Aurora in that other investigation of yours into the Sholto affair.’

  Knowing Holmes’ disdain for the softer passions, I did not add that it was during this latter case that I had met and fallen in love with Miss Mary Morstan, whom I was to marry later that same year.5

  ‘Wiggins was the name of their leader, was it not?’ I continued.

  ‘Yes, and a more intelligent and resourceful youth one could not hope to find. The police would do well to recruit young men of Wiggins’ calibre into their own force. It was Wiggins who made enquiries on my behalf into the gang of three among the members of London’s underworld and came up with a positive identification.

  ‘The couple posing as the husband and wife were, in fact, a brother and sister, George and Rosie Bartlett, a good-looking pair who, because of their stylish appearance, had worked as pickpockets in the West End, George acting as the “dip”, Rosie as the “stickman”, or in her case the “stickwoman”. As soon as George had “lifted” a wallet or a lady’s purse, he would immediately pass them to Rosie who would hide them about her person. Thus, if by an unlucky chance, George was apprehended and searched, the stolen goods were never found on him and he was allowed to go free. No one thought of stopping and searching Rosie, who looked the very picture of a well-dressed, respectable young lady. And anyway, by the time the hue and cry had been raised, she had already disappeared among the throngs of shoppers or theatre-goers.

  ‘Their partnership worked successfully for a number of years and then their luck changed. George fell and broke his wrist and, although it mended, it was stiff and was therefore no longer any use to him for “dipping”. Consequently, they had to earn their living some other way. It was then that they came up with the idea of stealing from small jeweller’s shops and recruited Whitey Johnson to act as their “stickman”. As I have already mentioned, he was a genuine cripple, having been born with a withered leg. In the past, he had acted as a “fence” for them, when they had a gold watch or tie pin to dispose of. It is most likely that it was this connection with stolen jewellery which put the idea of the robberies into their minds in the first place.

  ‘Johnson was also useful as a “stall” in obstructing anyone, in particular an irate shopkeeper, by limping out in front of him. No one would suspect him. The last person one would expect as being part of a gang of thieves was a cripple, although I must confess the part played by the crutch in their modus operandi did not occur to me until much later.’

  He paused to raise an eyebrow at me.

  ‘Are you any nearer to deducing it yourself, my dear fellow?’

  ‘I am afraid not, Holmes,’ I replied, a little crestfallen.

  ‘Never mind. It may come to you later in a sudden flash of inspiration. To continue. The resourceful Wiggins was also able to give me the Bartletts’ address in Notting Hill, an interesting piece of information in itself, for the first robbery had occurred in that very same district and all subsequent robberies had taken place within a mile radius. They evidently preferred to operate in familiar territory where they knew which alleyways and side roads to use if they had to make a quick escape.

  ‘They were sharing a small house in a turning off Ladbroke Grove, a street in which nearly every other window contained a card advertising rooms to let, so I had no difficulty in finding lodgings which practically overlooked the Bartletts’ residence. That room was, in fact, the first of several secret addresses I acquired where I could go to change my appearance when the need arose.6

  ‘In this case, I passed myself off as a clerk, temporarily unemployed but respectably if shabbily dressed. My landlady, a widow with two young children, had no reason to doubt my story. Besides, she was too grateful for the few shillings I paid a week for my board and lodgings to ask any questions.

  ‘I had insisted on having the bedroom at the front of the house from which I had a clear view of the comings and goings of the Bartletts and, within a little over a week, I had established their routine. We are all creatures of habit, Watson, and thank God for it because it made my task of keeping watch on my suspects all the easier. I knew the days and the times Rosie Bartlett went shopping or her brother left the house to visit the local public house. I also saw their visitors come and go, including Whitey Johnson, who called on them on a regular basis.

  ‘I was also able to observe all three of them at closer quarters and make myself familiar with their appearances.

  ‘Bartlett was a tall, slim man in his early thirties, with pleasant rather than handsome features, and a certain air of distinction about him. Dressed in the right clothes, he could easily pass himself off as a successful member of the lower middle classes: a head clerk in a solicitor’s office, say, or a senior cashier in a bank.

  ‘His sister Rosie was of a shorter stature but had the same upright deportment and confident demeanour, although her appearance was somewhat marred by a rather prominent nose. However, with her veil down to hide this feature, she and her brother could be taken for a respectable married couple, comfortably off and thoroughly trustworthy.

  ‘In contrast to them, Whitey Johnson was a small, non-descript young man only in his mid-twenties and so pale and sickly in appearance that he put me in mind of a plant which had been grown in a cellar or a dark room, deprived of sunlight. It was this excessive pallor of his complexion which earned him the sobriquet “Whitey”. There were, however, two remarkable qualities about him which marked him out as someone spe
cial. The first was his capacity not to be noticed. I have rarely known anyone who had his skill of inconspicuousness; a perfect qualification, of course, for a “stickman”. He could melt away into a crowd like a raindrop in a puddle.

  ‘His other talent was his quickness of movement despite his physical disability. Seeing him darting along on his crutch like a monkey swinging its way from tree to tree, one could understand why the Bartletts had recruited him into their gang. Not only could he disappear from the scene of the crime in an instant, he complemented them perfectly, their roles being, so to speak, public while his was entirely private; theirs to place themselves centre stage, his to vanish into the shadows.

  ‘Johnson usually called at the Bartletts’ on a Friday evening at half past seven, bringing with him a bag containing, I suspected, bottles of brown ale, for, on one occasion, I strolled past the house when he was there and saw through a gap in the curtains the three of them playing cards at a table under a lamp, the beer decanted into glasses which stood by their sides. At half past ten, he always left, swinging his way up the street on his crutch at that surprising speed of his. Apart from these regular soirées, Johnson appeared to have no other connection with the Bartletts. Intrigued by this strange little man and curious to find out more about his private life, I hired Wiggins to make enquiries on my behalf. To that end, Wiggins followed him one evening to a lodging house in Battersea where he lived alone. He apparently had no family or friends apart from the Bartletts.’

  At this point, Holmes paused and gazed deeply into the fire, as if searching amongst the flames for an explanation for this uncharacteristic interest of his in Whitey Johnson whom he himself had referred to as ‘inconspicuous’. But before I could remark on this unprecedented concern of his, for he rarely showed any feelings for his clients let alone any criminals who might cross his path, he roused himself from his reverie and resumed his account.

  ‘On the Saturday afternoon of the week following Wiggins’ little excursion to Battersea, Whitey Johnson arrived at the Bartletts’ house; an unusual time for him to visit them. As I have explained, he invariably called on them on a Friday evening. As soon as I saw him enter the house, I was immediately on the alert, for I knew something out of the ordinary was about to happen. And I was correct. Ten minutes later, all three of them left the house and set off up the street. Pausing only to put on my shabby coat and bowler hat, part of my disguise as an out-of-work clerk, I followed them on foot to Ladbroke Grove where they hailed a cab. I did likewise, my hansom keeping a little distance from theirs on my instructions.

  ‘Their destination was the North End Road in Fulham, a busy thoroughfare of shops, cafés and other business premises, including, I noticed, as my cab drew to a halt not far from theirs, a small jeweller’s shop, its single window covered by a metal grille and the name Samuel Greenbaum painted on the board above it.

  ‘Here the three of them separated, Johnson limping ahead to survey, I assumed, any alleys and side turnings which would serve as an escape route should one be needed. Rosie Bartlett also went her own way, sauntering along, her veil lowered, pretending to look in the shop windows but also doubtlessly surveying the neighbourhood on her own behalf.

  ‘Bartlett, meanwhile, to my utter astonishment, entered the shop. It was a totally unexpected move on his part but one I could see the logic of when I thought about it. By doing so, he, too, could inspect for himself certain aspects of the premises in readiness for the actual crime which they planned would take place at some later date, for I was quite convinced this was not intended to be the actual robbery, merely a rehearsal for it. By this means, he could check, for example, if the proprietor worked alone in the shop or had an assistant; how agile the man might be when it came to a pursuit; what obstacles lay between the counter and the door; and how easily the door opened on to the street.

  ‘I deliberately strolled past the shop and, glancing in through the glass panel in the door, saw Bartlett in animated conversation with the shopkeeper. They even shook hands on parting! It was then I realised what I was witnessing was an arrangement being made for Bartlett to call again at the shop on another day, in the company of his wife, to inspect some of the more valuable rings for her to choose from. In other words, the jeweller was unwittingly collaborating in the plan to steal his own property!

  ‘I was convinced of the accuracy of my theory when, stepping into the shelter of a doorway, I watched Bartlett as he left the shop and saw him at closer quarters for the first time that morning. He was normally clean-shaven and never wore spectacles but on this occasion he was wearing gold-rimmed eye-glasses and a neatly-clipped brown moustache, the disguise he evidently intended wearing on the day the planned robbery would take place. These prior inspections of the proposed scenes of the crimes were an aspect of the case which Lestrade had not mentioned to me, either because he considered them of no importance or because the shopkeepers themselves had not mentioned them, which suggested they had not been interviewed by the police with sufficient vigour.

  ‘I there and then resolved that whenever I had to question witnesses I would spend as much time and effort as I could in drawing out of them even the most trivial-seeming facts to help with my investigation. Knowledge is everything, Watson. Even the smallest detail can be crucial in bringing a criminal to justice.7

  ‘In the meantime, Bartlett had walked to the end of the street where he met up with his sister Rosie as well as Whitey Johnson and, having conferred together briefly, the three of them parted, Johnson hailing a hansom and driving off on his own, the Bartletts taking a separate cab. The reconnaissance was over and everything was now set for the actual robbery, which I was convinced would take place the following Saturday afternoon at about half past six.’

  ‘What made you so sure, Holmes?’

  ‘That was exactly the question Inspector Lestrade asked me when I called on him at Scotland Yard on Monday morning. My answer was to refer him to the facts. It was exactly at this time that Whitey Johnson and the Bartletts had made their survey of the territory with, I believed, good reason. As well as the premises they intended robbing, they would also wish to examine the neighbourhood in general. It was a busy commercial street containing a number of shops selling provisions in addition to the lines of market stalls set up along the kerb, a significant factor, I concluded. Now, many workmen are paid their wages on a Saturday evening, in consequence of which they and their wives have money in their pockets to spend on food for their families as well as ale for themselves in the public houses, of which there were three in the immediate vicinity of Mr Greenbaum’s shop. The pavements would therefore be crowded with people which would make Bartlett’s escape that much the easier.

  ‘As I have pointed out to you before, people, criminals included, are creatures of habit and all the other robberies had taken place late on a Saturday afternoon, a point which Lestrade himself made when he was discussing the cases with me. However, he failed to grasp the full significance of this fact, dismissing it as a mere whim on the part of the Bartletts, like the wearing of a lucky charm. But there was nothing superstitious in their attitude to thieving. They were professionals through and through, and therefore the choice of day and time was as deliberate as all other aspects of their strategy, from their use of disguise to the selection of their victims.

  ‘It took some persuasion on my part to convince Lestrade of the accuracy of my theory but at last good sense prevailed and he agreed to fall in with my plans. Therefore, the next day, I made my own tour of inspection of the area in company with Lestrade, choosing the best places where he and his officers, six of them in plain clothes, might wait upon the events to come without making their presence known.

  ‘I should add, in Lestrade’s defence, that, once he had grown accustomed to my plan, he joined in it with enthusiasm; too much so at first and I had to persuade him that planting one of his men outside the jeweller’s shop disguised as a blind beggar was more likely to draw attention to the man than divert it. Like the
stall-holders and the street traders in general, beggars have their regular pitches and for a stranger to arrive amongst them would have immediately aroused resentment as well as suspicion.

  ‘By six o’clock the following Saturday afternoon, the plain-clothes officers, suitably attired, were in place in the North End Road, mingling with the ordinary folk who were about their everyday business, like them looking in windows, going in and out of the shops, buying fruit and vegetables from the stalls, always keeping on the move as I had insisted but never straying too far from Mr Greenbaum’s premises.

  ‘Lestrade was among them, his sharp little eyes darting here, there and everywhere, anxious that all was going to plan, for his reputation at Scotland Yard depended on the success of this particular investigation, following his recent failure over the notorious Paddington Green murder case in which the killer had got clean away.

  ‘I, too, sauntered to and fro, watching for cabs arriving, for I guessed the Bartletts and Whitey Johnson would not travel by omnibus, a slow method of getting about. And I was right, one cab halted a little way up the road and I saw Johnson emerge from it, carrying his crutch. Within moments, he had disappeared among the crowds.

  ‘The Bartletts arrived shortly afterwards and immediately the game was set in motion. Arm in arm, the two of them strolled towards Greenbaum’s shop, looking every inch a respectable couple, Rosie with her veil down, George wearing eye-glasses and the small brown moustache, his bowler hat set at a dignified angle. Pausing only to glance in through the window to ascertain the shop was empty of other customers, Bartlett pushed open the door and the pair of them entered to the discordant jangle of the bell above the lintel.

  ‘I had agreed with Lestrade that, as we had no evidence against the Bartletts with which to charge them, their arrest and that of Whitey Johnson, their accomplice, would not take place until after the robbery. In the meantime, one of his men, a sergeant in plain clothes, and I would take it in turns to walk nonchalantly past the shop and, by looking in, as if casually, through the glass panel in the door, would keep watch on the progress of the crime and would flourish a pocket handkerchief at the exact moment when Bartlett had seized up the rings and was ready to make his get-away. In the event, it was I who gave the signal.