Sherlock Holmes and the Adler Papers

by John Hall

  ‘I shall, never fear! But what is our next move, Holmes?’

  ‘Well, Gottfried and Karl have clearly decided that the castle is no safe place.’ Holmes frowned, shook his head. ‘And yet one would surely be hard pressed to think of anywhere safer! It is a puzzle, is it not?’

  ‘Their perceived danger is surely not to them, though, but to the papers,’ I said. ‘Would those not be safe in the bank? Or with their lawyers?’

  Holmes shook his head. ‘Both very obvious places.’

  ‘And they would not want the papers too far away,’ von Gratz added.

  ‘Then that leaves only Gottfried’s town house, and surely that is more obvious yet?’ I said. ‘The very first place anyone would look.’

  ‘Ah, but Gottfried might be playing a deep game, trusting to the fact that it is too obvious to bother with.’

  ‘What, like the chap in Poe’s story, “The Pilfered Letter” – no, “Purloined”, that was it. That what you mean?’

  ‘I think it must be our starting point,’ said Holmes, and lapsed into a moody silence yet again.

  He could be right, I reflected. If a man has a house, and wants to keep something safe and close at hand, then that house is an obvious place; but then if a man also has a castle, it surely makes more sense to remain there, with the gate secured! I could not for the life of me see why Gottfried had chosen to let us in; why, given that he knew we were coming, had he not simply shut us out? It made no sort of sense that I could see. And it certainly makes no sense to keep valuable papers at home if a man has bankers, lawyers, men with safes and strongrooms. It was all very well for Holmes to think that Gottfried would try to outsmart us; but if Gottfried thought that Holmes thought that he – Gottfried – thought – oh, damnation! I thought. I was never any good at this arguing in a circle, and I gave it up. Holmes, as I had thought at the outset, was right; for if we searched Gottfried’s house and did not find the papers, then we could always try his bank or his lawyer next!

  We returned to the Albion Hotel, and it speaks volumes for the management of the place that they did not turn us out, or even raise a questioning eyebrow at our dishevelled state; only the manager ventured in a low tone to recommend a laundress who had, he said, great skill in the art of invisible mending.

  As we were making for the stairs, the manager called to me, ‘Oh, Doctor Watson! There was a telegram for you.’ And he handed me a little square buff envelope.

  My first thought was naturally that something untoward had happened to Mary, and my heart sank. I should, I reflected as I tore the envelope open, never have left her in London with Mrs Norton; indeed, had I not thought as much at the outset, had I not asked Holmes for reassurance on the point, aye, and been given it? What was that reassurance worth now, pray? But then my eye lit on the signature, ‘Mary,’ and my spirits soared.

  ‘From my wife,’ I said.

  ‘Indeed?’ said Holmes.

  ‘Yes – oh! That’s odd.’

  ‘Indeed?’ said Holmes a second time.

  ‘Indeed, Holmes. Listen to this: “Gone away. Take care, my – ” – well, the rest is neither here nor there. But what on earth can Mary mean by “Gone away”, I wonder?’

  ‘Oh, I rather think that is intended for me,’ said Holmes. ‘Though I do not dispute your claim to the rest of it,’ he added with a twinkle in his eye. ‘You see, “Gone away” was the phrase I had agreed with Mrs Watson should be used in the event that Mrs Norton absconded from your house.’

  ‘I see! Yes, I recall that you predicted something of the kind. The telegraph office stamp shows that Mary sent it yesterday, just after noon, so presumably Mrs Norton made good her escape yesterday morning. We might reasonably expect her tomorrow, then, or the day after?’

  Holmes nodded. ‘I fancy she will lose no time getting here.’

  ‘But why? What object can she possibly have in coming here? Having sought our help, why does she not simply let us get on with it?’

  ‘Ah, there you have me,’ said Holmes. ‘Unless, of course, she doubts our ability to solve the problem – and, on our recent showing, one cannot entirely blame her there!’ He smiled, and added, ‘But doubtless all will be made clear in due course.’

  When once von Gratz had made himself a little more presentable in the hotel, he left us and went to the palace, returning towards evening with the news that Duke Gottfried was indeed in the capital, and had been invited to call upon the king on the following day.

  ‘That is fortunate,’ I said.

  Von Gratz laughed. ‘I myself suggested it to His Majesty, thinking it might be as well to get Gottfried out of his house for a time, so that we can make a preliminary reconnaissance. It will not be possible to enter the house in daylight, of course, more especially since Karl will still be inside – for he will not wish to show himself in public just yet. Still, we can study the exterior, I think.’

  ‘It was well thought of,’ said Holmes. ‘We should be able to make out our prospective entrance, and make a return visit somewhat later tomorrow, when they are all asleep.’

  ‘Holmes?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You do not think that it might be another trap, do you? This house, so conveniently situated here in the town? After all, if we break in then we are in the wrong, to the casual onlooker at any rate. Gottfried would be well within his rights to have his servants shoot us like dogs, and claim we were common burglars.’

  ‘H’mm. It is an interesting thought. Von Gratz?’

  ‘It is the sort of thing Gottfried might think of, it is true.’ He stood up. ‘Leave it with me. I shall see you this evening, for dinner,’ and he saw himself out.

  Holmes now proposed to smoke in silence for a while, and think the matter over. I preferred to rest, reflecting that we might be in for an exciting time on the morrow. Towards the dinner hour I bathed and changed, and then sought out Holmes, whom I found still smoking his old briar. ‘We had engaged to see von Gratz,’ I reminded him, and he smiled and stood up.

  When Holmes was ready, we went downstairs. We had expected von Gratz to meet us in the hotel lobby, but instead he sent his coach, with a request that we go to his private apartments. A drive of some ten minutes brought us to the house, an old building discreetly tucked away in a leafy suburb.

  Von Gratz had rooms on the first floor, and as we entered we saw that he had another visitor, a tall young man in the same uniform as that which von Gratz himself wore. ‘Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson, this is Captain Markus, of my own regiment of hussars,’ von Gratz told us.

  Markus shook my hand. I liked his grip, firm but not belligerent, and I liked the look of him; though outwardly serious, there was yet a twinkle in his eye that showed he would be an excellent companion.

  ‘Captain Markus will go with us tomorrow night,’ said von Gratz. ‘He will wait outside –’ Markus made as if to object to this, but von Gratz waved him to silence – ‘and in the event that we do not reappear in, shall we say, an hour, the captain will fetch some of his own men and effect an entry, to see what has become of us. Will that serve?’

  ‘It will,’ said Holmes. ‘And I may say that I shall feel happier knowing that Captain Markus is waiting outside.’

  I echoed this sentiment. Frankly I thought that the whole affair had the air of a trap, and I should be happier knowing that we had allies who were ready and willing to come to our aid. And as dinner progressed, and it became clear that Markus – in common with much of the army, I gathered – was no friend of Duke Gottfried, I formed the impression that von Gratz had given Markus another order which he had not mentioned to Holmes and myself; namely, that if Gottfried and Karl did us any harm, then Markus was to avenge us. As I say, it was but an impression; yet it was exactly what I should have done myself, and Markus did not seem the sort of man who would cavil at avenging a friend. So by the end of the meal, I was feeling considerably more cheerful than when I sat down at the table.

  I mentioned something of this to Holmes as we
were driven back to the Albion later that night. He nodded. ‘It is certainly reassuring,’ he said. ‘It means that we can get on with our search without worrying too much about being detected.’

  SIX

  On the following morning, we rose bright and early. Von Gratz called upon us, and we walked to Gottfried’s town house, situated in its own gardens in a broad boul-evard, not unlike those which lead to the Bois in Paris – I believe I told you that the architect of Dopzhe had used the French capital as a model. There was a great high wall round the gardens, an iron gate, ten feet or so high, and a lodge, evidently occupied by a gate-keeper or watchman, just inside the gate. For good measure, there were gas lamps at either side of the gate.

  Holmes shook his head, dissatisfied. ‘Let us take a look at the back,’ he said.

  We walked to the end of the road, and turned down a quiet back street, little more than a mews, that ran behind the boulevard. Holmes went on, counting the houses carefully, until he slowed down near a low building, evidently the stables and coach house for Gottfried’s mansion. The wall here was by no means as high as that at the front, and I noticed Holmes’s smile of satisfaction. He strolled on, past the outbuildings and wooden gate, slowing down twenty feet beyond.

  ‘There will be people in the stables,’ I said, ‘so we cannot use the gate.’

  ‘True,’ said Holmes, ‘but I can undertake to climb the wall here, and if we do so at the far end of the garden, we should be unobserved by anyone in the vicinity of the

  stables.’

  ‘And what of access to the house?’

  ‘Did you not remark the ivy, or some such creeper, round the back? If we cannot reach a window it will be a poor thing. And in any event there are the sort of French windows at the front of the house that any child could open.’

  We returned to the hotel, and passed the remainder of the day somehow or other. Von Gratz had left us, saying that he needed to discuss plans with Captain Markus, so Holmes and I were left alone. I must say that we made a precious pair. Holmes was uncommunicative, and I too was disinclined for conversation, being somewhat concerned as to the prospects for success. To be blunt, the more I thought about this scheme, the less I liked it. Still, I could think of no alternative that might hold a better chance of working, so I had to make the best of it.

  It was in no happy frame of mind that I saw the light fade that evening. Holmes bestirred himself, and remarked that it was nearly time to leave. When I ventured to mention dinner, Holmes waved a hand impatiently, and repeated his oft-made observation that he seldom ate whilst working. I had not had any great appetite myself, but in the paradoxical, contrary way of humanity, Holmes’s remark made me disputatious, and I not only had an excellent dinner myself but actually prevailed upon Holmes to join me, though he only picked at the splendid fare before him. Still, he did eat a little, so I felt that I had made some progress.

  We had promised to meet von Gratz outside the hotel at seven, and were there prompt to our time. Von Gratz, dressed in sober black and wrapped in a cloak, emerged from the shadows, Markus by his side. ‘All is arranged,’ von Gratz told us. ‘Markus will keep watch, and his men will not be far away, so we have nothing to fear.’

  The hour was, of course, rather early for burglary, at least if Gottfried and his guests were dining at home. But we had hopes that they might be dining out that evening, and if that proved to be the case then we should go in more or less as they went out. The servants, with no pressing duties, would not be very alert, and we ought to be able to work unsuspected and undetected. That was the theory, at any rate.

  Our first task was thus to keep watch at the front of the house, to see if its inhabitants left. Should they fail to do so, then we must move our base of operations to the narrow lane at the back, and wait until all the lights went out, a task which promised to be long and dreary.

  It looked, though, as if we were in luck, for just after half past seven, there was some activity at the front gate. A carriage came rattling round the corner from the direction of the mews, and pulled up by the gate. Two men strolled down the drive from the house, and halted by the carriage whilst one of them lit a cigar. We were just across the road, in our own carriage, and the two men stood almost directly beneath a street lamp, so we had no difficulty seeing them.

  Both men were tall, slender. The man lighting the cigar was a good deal muffled up, his opera hat pulled down, a scarf round the lower part of his face, and the collar of his cloak turned well up. Obviously he had to shift this drapery somewhat in order to accomplish the task of getting his cigar burning properly, but then he turned his head away from us as he applied vesta to corona, so that we still could not get a proper look at his face. The other man was bare-headed, his hat in his hand, and he seemed to stare directly at us, so that instinctively I settled lower in the seat of the carriage. This second man had an unworldly look about him, almost a monastic asceticism, that seemed oddly at ease with his costume of man about town.

  Von Gratz nudged me in the ribs. ‘That is Gottfried,’ he said. ‘Looks like a clergyman, does he not? I do not know the other fellow, the one wrapped up like a mummy.’

  ‘I take it that is Karl?’ said Holmes.

  ‘You are probably right,’ said von Gratz.

  ‘Highly convenient,’ I said. ‘In fact they could not have fallen in better with our plans had they joined in our discussions!’

  ‘H’mm,’ said Holmes.

  ‘And what does that mean?’

  ‘As you say, Watson, it is highly convenient. Of course, it would have been even more convenient for Gottfried and his guest had the coachman taken the carriage up the drive from the stables to the front door, instead of coming all the long way round to the gate, thereby obliging Gottfried and the other fellow to walk from the house.’

  ‘You mean they want us to see them leaving? You suspect a trap, then?’

  ‘Say rather that I suspect they are playing a deep game.’

  I sank back in my seat. A trap? If not, then why should Gottfried advertise his absence? It almost seemed as if he wanted us to search the place! And why on earth should he want that, unless – ‘Unless,’ I said out loud, ‘they have the papers on them?’

  Holmes stared at me.

  ‘Never,’ said von Gratz. ‘It would be far too dangerous for them to consider it. They know that there is always the possibility of being waylaid and searched.’ He looked at Markus, sitting opposite. ‘On the other hand, Gottfried may indeed play a deep game. By Heaven, if I thought that they did have the papers on them –!’

  Holmes raised a hand. ‘As you say, they will have made due allowance for all that. Our own plans are made, so let us by all means stick to them. With Captain Markus and his men outside, we have little to fear, whatever arrangements Gottfried may have made to welcome us.’

  ‘And I have my pistol, this time,’ I told him, patting my pocket. ‘I have no intention of being imprisoned a third time!’

  Von Gratz laughed, and patted his own pocket in imitation of my action. ‘I too am armed,’ he said. ‘The only danger I foresee is that Karl may have sent another man with Gottfried, to fool us, while Karl himself remains in the house. But we are three to one, even in that event. And I may add that if I do find Karl in there, and he becomes troublesome, I shall shoot him like a dog. Oh, I beg your pardon, I had forgotten you were English – like a rat, then, if you will.’ And he gave a laugh that boded ill for Karl in the event that he were in the house.

  Holmes looked at him sternly. ‘It is less a matter of revenge than of helping the king.’ At which von Gratz tried unconvincingly to look abashed, though I was certain that he had made up his mind to kill Karl, should the occasion arise.

  Gottfried and his companion got into their carriage, and rattled off at a good pace. Holmes glanced at his watch. ‘We shall give them ten minutes,’ he decided, ‘by which time the servants should have settled down to their own suppers. And then we three shall visit the back wall, and you, Captain M
arkus, will remain here. I think if you will allow us one hour and a half, by which time we should be back to report success, and if not –’

  ‘If not, sir, I know what to do,’ said Markus, touching the butt of his revolver in a significant fashion.

  We waited our ten minutes, perhaps not quite the longest ten minutes I ever spent, but long enough for me. And then Holmes led the way to the little mews at the back of the house, and we took a closer look at the wall. There was a broad enough gate for the coach and so on, with a little postern door affair in it, but we dared not try these. Instead we got as far away from the gate and outbuildings as we could, and shinned over the wall, which at that point was only some six or seven feet high – a mere nothing compared to our descent from the castle such a short time before!

  The garden at the spot where we entered was grown up with rhododendrons or some such shrubs, ideal cover for miscreants such as ourselves. Holmes cautiously parted the leaves and peered out, then motioned to us to follow him across the manicured lawn. We had not been able to see this part of the house properly from the lane, but we now made out a fairly elaborate French window, evidently designed to give the owners of the house easy access to the gardens in the fine weather. However, these windows were locked on the inside, and Holmes took one look at them and shook his head. I moved a few paces to one side and examined a little door set in a neat porch, but that too was securely fastened, and I began to think that it would be an undignified scramble up the ivy which grew thick over part of the wall. But the slightest of sounds from Holmes showed me that he had opened a side window.

  We climbed inside, and could just make out that we were in some sort of reception room, spacious enough to hold a regiment of dancers. My heart sank within me, and I muttered in Holmes’s ear, ‘How on earth can we search the entire house, much less do it in an hour?’

  I sensed, rather than saw, his impatient shake of the head. ‘The papers cannot be in any public room, that would be far too dangerous. They must be in Gottfried’s private apartments, or in Karl’s. We shall make our way upstairs,’ and off he went towards the door.