by John Hall
‘I fancy he is, Watson. Indeed, I suspect that we have simply misunderstood the riddle.’
‘ “We”, Holmes?’
He laughed, then glanced at the bit of paper again. ‘It does say “graven” images and not “waxen” ones,’ he mused doubtfully.
‘But where in London can one find graven images, Holmes?’
‘It is a puzzle, I know, but then I do not imagine that we are actually expected to search for idols of Baal, or anything of that sort. Perhaps a statue might be indicated, though?’
‘Too public, surely, Holmes? And besides, statues don’t have keepers, do they? Pity there’s not another wax museum besides this one.’
‘And why do you say that?’ asked Holmes.
‘Well, we could have tried there.’
‘No, why did you think along those lines?’
‘For that matter, why did you, when you thought it was Madame Tussaud’s?’
Holmes frowned. ‘Well, it must be a public place, yet not too public, as we have already determined. And there must be a keeper of some sort. So the logical place is an exhibition, a place of entertainment, that sort of thing. A museum, perhaps? Are there Roman remains in any museum, I wonder?’
‘Wait, though, Holmes,’ I told him. ‘There is another place of entertainment, not too far away — the Egyptian Hall in Piccadilly! That has graven images all right, pharoahs, or mummies or sphinxes, or whatever they are, plastered all over the front.’
‘Excellent, Watson!’
‘I told you it was biblical,’ I said triumphantly.
‘Pagan, surely?’ queried Sir James, who had listened with some interest.
‘I’m sure there was a mention of Egypt in the Bible,’ I said, struggling to recall my Sunday school lessons. ‘Didn’t Moses part the Red Sea to get away from there?’
‘Oh, I can believe that,’ said Sir James, laughing. ‘All that sand, and the heat.’
‘Some interesting ruins, though, and some excellent hunting,’ said I. ‘Never been there myself, of course, but I once met a chap called Blenkinsop, Major Blenkinsop, “Barmy” Blenkinsop we called him. Met him in Quetta, under rather odd circumstances, which I must tell you about some time. Anyway, old “Barmy” was in the Fayum in ’seventy-three, or maybe ’seventy-four —’
‘Again, although it has every promise of being most diverting, this will simply have to wait, Watson,’ Holmes told me with a hint of impatience. He climbed into the carriage, and we followed, and very soon we were on our way through the City.
‘Your theory, though interesting, was not entirely correct, you see, Watson,’ said Holmes mischievously as we rattled along. ‘Still, you did redeem yourself rather satisfyingly.’
‘It is just a pity that I did not think of the Egyptian Hall earlier,’ I said, ‘for we might have saved some considerable time.’
‘Oh, that is nothing, At least you saw the answer, while I have been chasing wild geese,’ said Holmes generously.
A very few minutes more, and we were in Piccadilly, and drawing up before Messrs Maskelyne and Cooke’s renowned palace of entertainment.
‘Graven images, Holmes,’ I said, indicating the ornate statuary with which every square foot of the edifice was decorated.
‘Indeed.’ Holmes pointed with his stick, and I looked, to see Sir George Lewis strolling down the street. ‘He had evidently had the same idea as we ourselves,’ said Holmes. ‘I wonder if he is a happy man just now, or a disappointed one? Well, we shall soon see.’ And once again he made his way to the box-office window, and rapped upon it.
After some considerable time, he rapped again, and a surly-looking man appeared. ‘Box-office is closed now,’ he told us, and turned as if to go back to his luncheon, or whatever we had interrupted.
‘One moment, my good man,’ said Holmes, tapping a half-sovereign significantly upon the counter.
The man returned, reluctantly as it seemed to me. ‘Well?’
Holmes placed the coin down on the little counter, but kept his finger on it. ‘I suspect that you may have something for us,’ he said. ‘We are friends of Lord Hammerford.’
‘And ’oo’s he, then?’
‘Well, then,’ said Holmes, ‘if the name is unfamiliar, I must ask what did you give Sir George Lewis just now?’
‘Who?’
‘The gentleman who just called here,’ said Holmes sweetly. ‘If you lean out of your window, you can just see him turning the corner there.’
‘Never seen ’im, never ’eard of ’im. Never heard of any of ’em,’ said the attendant. Before Holmes could continue, the fellow pulled down a blind of sorts, and — presumably — made his exit hidden from our gaze.
Holmes turned from the window in some annoyance. ‘Well, I suspect he is lying,’ he told us.
‘He may know nothing of it,’ I said. ‘You thought the other fellow was ignorant of the whole thing. We may simply have to think again.’
Holmes shook his head. ‘The attitude of this man is quite different from that of the wax-museum attendant,’ he told me. ‘Someone has got to him, or he is acting independently. H’mm. Now, if it is a third party, so to speak, the question is, was it Sir George, or someone else?’ And before Sir James or I could venture on any reply to this, Holmes had turned and was off at top speed in the same direction as that in which Sir George had vanished. ‘Come along!’ he called back to us over his shoulder. ‘He has a good start on us, and we must not lose him now.’
Sir James threw me a rueful glance, and we set off after the speeding Holmes. The folk on the pavement stared at us as we scurried along, but Holmes took not the slightest notice. He turned into Savile Row, as Sir George had done, and came to an abrupt halt after a yard or two. I glanced ahead, and saw Sir George himself, standing in front of a fashionable tailor’s shop, and lighting a cigar with not the least appearance of haste or concern. He looked at us in some surprise as we neared him. ‘Gentlemen,’ said he, with a nod. ‘We do rather keep on bumping into one another, don’t we?’
‘As I predicted,’ said Holmes calmly, ‘which is why I suggested our joining forces, a suggestion I reiterate now. But that is by the way. Sir George, have you found the next clue?’
‘Now, how would I know that, without knowing how many clues you may have found?’ Sir George’s tone was mocking.
‘You know quite well what I mean,’ said Holmes, annoyed. ‘The clue that was left at the Egyptian Hall.’
‘Wouldn’t know the first thing about it, Mr Holmes, I assure you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my tailor is expecting me.’
‘Let me teach him some manners, Holmes,’ I said, lifting my stick.
‘Now, now, Doctor!’ said Sir George. ‘You’re a good chap, but I’ll not stand idle whilst anyone attacks me. And besides,’ he added with a grin, ‘who’s to say that I haven’t destroyed both envelopes, after committing the clue to memory? Break my head and you might drive the clue out of it altogether. Amnesia, do you medical men call it?’ And he raised his hat to me in an ironic gesture, before entering the tailor’s shop.
‘Shall I go after him, Holmes?’ I asked. ‘Say the word and I’ll break his head right enough!’
‘My dear fellow! In one of the best tailor’s in London? That will hardly be necessary, Watson.’ Holmes bent down and picked up some fragments of black ash. ‘I told you that Sir George had a good start on us. A good enough start to mean that he should have gone further,’ he said. ‘It is pretty clear that he has been standing here some time, and this, I suspect, is the consequence. It is not cigar ash, note, but rather burnt paper.’
‘So the wretch has burned the clues, Holmes!’ I exclaimed. ‘What on earth can we do now? If he refuses to tell us — well! We could follow him, I suppose,’ I added, with something of an anti-climax.
Holmes shook his head. ‘He will be on his guard, you may be sure. Watson, Sir James, you both stay here, and if Sir George should emerge, follow him and make sure he sees you following. But I do not think he will eme
rge, so long as he sees that you are still out here.’ And before we could say anything, he nodded a farewell and set off back the way we had come.
Sir James raised an eyebrow. ‘Mr Holmes certainly has his own rather odd little ways of approaching a problem,’ he said with a smile.
‘He has, but I have seen those odd little ways produce the desired result on enough occasions to be confident,’ I told him.
We did as Holmes required of us. For half an hour we loitered before the tailor’s shop, and I confess that I felt rather foolish. As Holmes had predicted, Sir George made no move to emerge into the street. Sir James made the occasional caustic remark, which I tried to counter as best as I could. At the end of that half hour, I was considerably relieved to see Holmes approaching, with a couple of ragamuffin boys trailing behind him. ‘Ah,’ I told Sir James, ‘I see what Holmes is up to. He has drafted in the irregulars.’
Sir James raised an eyebrow in query, but before I could explain further, Holmes had joined us. The little urchins moved idly to the far side of the road, kicking up the dust and exchanging some lively remarks as they went.
‘We may leave safely now, I think,’ said Holmes. ‘They will mark Sir George and never lose him, wherever he may travel.’
‘But won’t he spot them?’ I asked.
Holmes shrugged. ‘I have hopes that he will not. But if he does, then he will not dare to try to obtain the next clue, and that will mean he has no advantage.’
‘But nor do we,’ I felt obliged to point out. ‘It is all very well to prevent Sir George getting to the next clue, but it hardly advances our own search.’
‘The idea had occurred to me,’ said Holmes drily. ‘But we are at something of an impasse, and I confess I see no easy way out. If he does not see us, Sir George may well be inclined to take his chances. If not, if he simply sits tight, then we must think again, of course, but at least he will not lay his hands on the treasure, and that must be our consolation.’ He studied his watch. ‘Sir James, will you join us for a modest luncheon at 221B?’
Sir James agreed, and we made our way back to Baker Street. Holmes possesses in a quite remarkable degree the ability to shift the focus of his mind, and he entirely refused to discuss the problem immediately before us, saying that there was nothing that we could do until such time as the irregular forces should report that Sir George had made a move. Sir James and I had to be content with this, and the conversation moved over a whole range of subjects in a desultory and disjointed fashion.
Luncheon over, Sir James looked at his watch with just the slightest hint of impatience. ‘If you will excuse me, I really should be getting on,’ he said. ‘Unless, that is, you think there may be some developments, Mr Holmes?’
‘As I said earlier, Sir James, we must await Sir George’s pleasure,’ said Holmes, rising from his chair. ‘I shall see you out.’
Before he could do so, however, there was a ring at the street door. Holmes cocked his head on one side at the sound. ‘I wonder if that is one of my delegated watchers, come to report?’ he mused, as the steps of the pageboy and the visitor ascended our stairs.
To our very great surprise, though, it was not one of the irregulars whom Billy announced. It was Lady Lewis, the wife of Sir George.
Six
‘Lady Lewis, this is a most unexpected pleasure.’ Sir James, who had some acquaintance with the lady, was obviously taken aback at this meeting, but he very quickly recovered his composure and made the necessary introductions.
‘Delighted,’ said I, and meant it. Lady Lewis was around thirty years of age, strikingly beautiful, with a marvellous head of chestnut-coloured hair. I could quite see why the recently bereaved Sir George had lost no time in marrying her. She was dressed in the fashion, but the fashion of a couple of years earlier, subtly amended by the skilful use of a needle and thread; a suspicion of shininess at the elbows of her jacket, and a hint of darning at the collar, were further indications that the housekeeping budget was not overflowing.
Holmes, ever immune to feminine charms, said merely, ‘It is, as Sir James says, a pleasure to meet you, Lady Lewis. But, as he also says, it is most unexpected. You will, I am sure, excuse me one moment,’ and he darted to the window and looked out into the street.
Lady Lewis looked at him in some astonishment, but Holmes did not move from the window for a full two minutes, after which he returned to the centre of the room, and remarked, ‘It is just as I thought. You have been followed here, Lady Lewis. I trust you did not come here alone?’
‘Followed, Mr Holmes? Are you sure? I had no idea that such was the case. Indeed, I feel you must be quite mistaken there.’
Holmes shook his head. ‘There is no possibility of error, I assure you. I ask again, did you come here alone?’
‘No, Mr Holmes, George — my husband — is quite insistent that I should not leave the house unaccompanied, so I brought Mr Peterson along with me. He is in your kitchen at this very moment.’
‘That is excellent in its own way,’ said Holmes, ‘though I could wish that your escort were rather more substantial. Still, you are safe enough for the time being, so perhaps you could tell us what brings you here?’
Lady Lewis hesitated, and glanced at Sir James without speaking. Sir James, diplomatic as always, said, ‘I was just about to leave, madam, so with your permission I shall do so, unless I may be of any service.’ And when Lady Lewis shook her head, he suited his action to the words.
‘Now, madam,’ said Holmes in his most soothing voice, ‘we have just had luncheon, but if you would care for some tea? Some light refreshments? I can ask Mrs Hudson to prepare some sandwiches, perhaps?’
‘Thank you, a cup of tea would be delightful, but nothing else.’
When Mrs Hudson had brought the tea, Holmes went on, ‘I take it that it is this matter of Lord Hammerford’s will that brings you here?’
‘It is, Mr Holmes,’ said Lady Lewis, her voice taut.
Holmes waited, and when Lady Lewis said nothing further, he ventured, ‘It is in many ways an odd business, and perhaps a rather sad one.’
‘You are correct as to that, Mr Holmes.’ Lady Lewis hesitated again, and then her feelings evidently overcame her natural reticence. ‘Oh,’ she cried, ‘I wish I had never heard of Lord Hammerford, or his stupid will! No,’ she went on, as Holmes leaned forward in his chair, ‘I am not going to burst into tears, or anything silly of that sort. But George has told me something of what has happened since we heard of the will, and I wish to Heaven that it were all over, for I can see nothing good coming of it all.’
Holmes said nothing, and Lady Lewis continued, ‘As I say, George has told me something of what happened earlier today, Mr Holmes, and I came to apologize and to explain. In the ordinary course of events, you know, George would never do anything at all underhand — oh, he has been foolish at times, I know that better than anyone, but he is as honest as the day is long. But the thought of this great fortune has clouded his judgement somewhat. Why, he would not normally have dreamed of doing anything so unsporting as to hinder an opponent!’
‘You refer to the fact that he destroyed one of the clues, I take it?’ said Holmes.
Lady Lewis nodded. ‘And then Doctor Watson so far forgetting his manners as to threaten him with a stick! Why, he likes Doctor Watson, and even went so far as to describe the doctor as “a delightful old chap” to me.’
‘ “Old”, Lady Lewis?’ I asked.
‘Oh, that is just his way, Doctor,’ she said quickly.
‘Well, he struck me as a pleasant enough old fellow, too, I must say. As for threatening him, I am genuinely sorry for that, and I shall be grateful if you say as much to your husband when you see him. I do not think I would have gone so far as to strike him, but his behaviour was really most provoking.’
‘And that is precisely why I have come to see you,’ said Lady Lewis. ‘I know that under ordinary circumstances you would none of you behave in this childish and belligerent manner. The though
t of this fortune is making you all act like fools!’
‘Well, that is frank enough in all conscience,’ said Holmes, at something of a loss as to how best to reply.
Lady Lewis drew herself up in her chair. ‘I am very sorry if I offend you, gentlemen, but that is how it seems to me. And I include my own husband in the catalogue, and have said as much to his face. As for this other dreadful business, I scarcely know what to make of it, strangers in the house to make sure we are safe, my husband followed everywhere, myself forbidden to go out unaccompanied — it is intolerable, Mr Holmes. Intolerable!’
‘And what would you suggest?’ asked Holmes, no whit perturbed.
Lady Lewis subsided, and thought in silence for a time. ‘The only way out that I can see is for you all to work together somehow, find the treasure, and defeat these ruffians who threaten our happiness.’
Holmes sat back in his chair, a mixture of triumph and frustration upon his face. ‘Believe me, madam, I have tried,’ he told her. ‘Watson here will agree that it was the first thing I suggested, but I am merely acting as an agent, and must obey the instructions of my principal.’
‘But can you not convince Sir James, Mr Holmes?’
‘If I could, can you convince Sir George, madam?’
‘I flatter myself that I can.’ There was a steely edge to Lady Lewis’s voice which, for all the lady’s beauty of form and face, boded no good for Sir George were he to remain unconvinced, I thought.
‘I believe you could,’ said Holmes. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
‘More tea, Lady Lewis?’ I asked, to fill the awkward pause.
‘Yes, thank you, Doctor.’
I poured the tea, and Lady Lewis drank in silence, evidently unwilling to disturb Holmes, as it seemed to me. For my part, I could not see what he might suggest that would make things easier for all of us.
As so often, I underestimated him. At the end of some five minutes, he suddenly let out a little exclamation, and leaned forward again. ‘Of course!’ he said eagerly. ‘Lady Lewis, what I propose is just this. Your husband, Sir George, I mean, will share with us the clue which he found and destroyed, as a token of his good faith. For my part, I will undertake to convince Sir James that it is imperative that we all work together against our common enemy. As for any division of the treasure, should we succeed in finding it, that will have to be by mutual discussion between Sir James and Sir George, although I shall put forth myself as a disinterested umpire. What do you say to that?’
