by John Hall
‘There is absolutely nothing to forgive,’ said Holmes. ‘You are very naturally concerned at what has taken place. But what, on calmer reflection, would you have us do?’
‘Rescue them, of course!’ exclaimed Sir George. He stopped, thought for a moment, then added, ‘But when you put me on the spot, I confess I cannot imagine how we might best achieve that end. Will you not come to the Park, though,’ he added in a more composed but still anxious voice, ‘and let us see if there is any clue as to where they have been taken?’
I added my two-pennyworth to the argument. ‘Yes, Holmes, anything is better than this inactivity. We ought to be able to find some indication as to where best to start looking. Or you ought, at any rate.’
‘Oh, as to that,’ said Holmes in an off-hand way, ‘I fancy I could set my hand upon them within ten minutes.’
‘What?’ I think everyone in that hallway, Holmes alone excepted, shouted the word at once.
‘Yes, that was never the question. The question is just this: shall we be better leaving them there? I rather incline to the opinion that we shall.’
At that point, two things happened. I started to say, ‘How do you know where they are?’ or something of that sort; but I had not articulated more than the first word or two when Sir George rushed towards Holmes in a very significant fashion.
‘ ’Ere!’ said the constable, interposing his bulky frame between Sir George and Holmes, who seemed unaware of any peril.
‘You really should not joke about such things,’ Sir George told Holmes, barely holding himself in check with an obvious effort.
Holmes stared at Sir George. ‘You really must control your emotions,’ he told him sternly. ‘Watson here will tell you that although my sense of humour is at times a trifle distorted, I do not joke about matters as serious as this. When I say that I know where these villains are, I mean it quite literally.’
‘But how can you possibly know that, Holmes?’ I asked.
‘I know that because, on the very first day of this most interesting case, I followed the man who had been sent to follow you, Sir George. You may recall that I absented myself for a short while in the afternoon, Watson?’
‘I do. But in the name of Heaven, if you know where they are, then how can you hesitate for a single instant as to whether or not to attempt a rescue?’
‘Ah, that is the old soldier speaking, the man of action. And Sir George here, another man of action, evidently concurs. But consider carefully,’ said Holmes earnestly, ‘that these rogues, reprobate though they are, did not intend any harm to come to Lady Lewis, or to young Lord Hammerford. Had they wished to hurt them, kill them even, they could have done that quite well in the Park, then and there, without going to all the trouble of spiriting them away. Do you agree? Good. No, the sole purpose of taking them is to use them as hostages, to parlay for an exchange, the money for the two precious lives. That being so, these kidnappers will be sure to keep them safe. Indeed, and I am quite well aware that this will not strike you at once as being sensible, but they will probably be safer there than anywhere else, for the blow has fallen, so to speak, and now we need not fear it falling. You comprehend? I strongly suspect that if we went through this door now, we should not be followed, for now they have no need to keep watch on us. They have us, they think, where they want us, and so have nothing to fear from us and no need to keep us under observation. We can now direct all our energies to a successful solution of the case without worrying about either being followed everywhere or the safety of our loved ones.’ And he looked from one to another of us, as if seeking approval of this monstrous scheme.
Sir George was the first to speak. ‘There is a certain specious logic in your argument, Mr Holmes,’ he said, controlling himself with a perceptible effort of will, ‘but frankly it seems to me that it is very much more specious than logical. As to these villains not harming my wife and the boy, you are doing nothing more than surmising there. My wife is somewhat highly-strung, and the thought of what she will endure cooped up in some rat-hole is more than I can bear!’
‘And what of the boy?’ I added. ‘It can hardly have been pleasant for him to be snatched away in that brutal fashion, can it, Holmes? He will want his familiar surroundings, his nursery, his toys, his cosy little circle.’
‘They are right, Mr Holmes,’ said Sir James, by way of concluding the matter. ‘As to this business of their being safe with these rogues, why, words fail me! If it’s safety you want for them, return them to me and I’ll personally guarantee a company of guardsmen. A regiment, two, if you specify it. You know I can undertake to do that,’ he added significantly.
‘Very well,’ said Holmes. ‘I see I am out-voted. The question now becomes: how? The direct method, the large- scale frontal attack which has, I am sure, occurred immediately to each and every one of you, has its potential dangers. If any harm were — God forbid! — to come to the prisoners, it would be most likely to come about in the confusion of such an attack, and the short tempers that would naturally be engendered. No, we need a plan. We need subtlety. We need a diversion. We need —’ The ringing of the door bell cut short his list of requirements.
We had still not moved from the hallway, and as I was nearest the door and had already been acting as a sort of temporary unofficial butler, I opened the door, reflecting to myself that although the matter was momentous enough in all conscience, yet this constant stream of visitors none the less had something of the quality of a stage farce about it.
That impression was reinforced by the young man who stood nervously upon the step, for he looked for all the world like a second-rate actor from a third-rate touring company. He was perhaps twenty-five years of age, with curly and rather untidy brown hair under a bowler hat, which he removed and twisted in his hands as I pulled the door open. He wore a long coat which had once been fashionable but was now showing signs of wear and tear, and round his neck was a broad leather strap upon which hung a leather satchel or dispatch case of some sort.
‘Well?’
‘Ah, yes,’ said he, gazing at the little knot of folk inside the hallway with a certain amount of bemusement. ‘Forgive me, sir. It was Sir George Lewis I was looking for. I fancy I saw him come in here?’
Sir George stepped forward from the shadows. ‘I am he,’ he said. ‘But I do not think I have the honour of your acquaintance?’
‘No. That is, my name is Wainwright, Douglas Wainwright. I fear I have no card with me —’
Sir George waved aside the social niceties. ‘What is it you want, Mr Wainwright? I am a trifle preoccupied just at the moment, so I beg you to be as brief as humanly possible, sir.’
‘It was by way of being a rather personal matter, Sir George,’ said Mr Wainwright hesitantly.
‘Oh, no secrets here, man. You may speak before these gentlemen — and ladies,’ added Sir George, waving a hand to include the little nursemaid, and Mrs Hudson, who had emerged unbidden and unseen from her kitchen to investigate, ‘exactly as you would before me’.
Mr Wainwright cleared his throat delicately, and began to unfasten the straps on his satchel. As you wish, Sir George,’ said he, ‘although I would have preferred it otherwise. I have here, sir, your notes of hand, to a grand total of three hundred and seventy-two pounds, six shillings and —’ And that was as far as he got.
I have tried to indicate in this account that Sir George Lewis, though a stout chap, a fine fellow, and all the other platitudinous expressions indicative of approbation, was none the less a man of action, a man of pronounced forcefulness of opinion. Not, in short, a man to suffer fools at all, much less gladly.
A curious look had started to come upon Sir George’s face as Mr Wainwright began speaking, and I could read it as easily as I read my own notes; easier, indeed, these days, as my handwriting has latterly taken on some crab-like characteristics. Sir George may have been thwarted in his legitimate desire to wreak vengeance upon Holmes by that officious ass of a policeman, that look said to me, but
he was damned if he would be thwarted by anyone in his desire to wreak vengeance upon this wretched creature who intruded at this critical juncture in Sir George’s life to dun him for three hundred and seventy-two pounds, six shillings and however many pence it might have been.
In short, at the point which I have indicated in the unfortunate Mr Wainwright’s speech, Sir George sprang upon him like the proverbial tiger. I had, as I say, half expected something of the sort, and I lost no time in grabbing hold of Sir George’s collar and attempting to drag him away. Holmes and the police constable joined in, and between us we separated Sir George from his prey, and picked up Mr Wainwright, who had lost his footing and crashed to the linoleum.
‘Really, Sir George!’ said Mr Wainwright, when he had recovered his breath, adding, ‘Hardly expected this from a gentleman,’ and, ‘Purely a matter of business,’ and similar phrases as he dusted himself down ostentatiously.
‘If we have all quite finished?’ said Holmes. ‘Perhaps we would all be more comfortable in our sitting room, where we can discuss this matter more quietly. Mrs Hudson, perhaps you would take this young lady and give her some tea?’ he added, indicating the nursemaid. And without waiting for an answer he led the way upstairs.
I looked at Mrs Hudson and shrugged my shoulders, by way of an apology for Holmes’s brusqueness, but she knew his ways as well I do myself and merely gave a taut little smile. I turned and followed the others upstairs.
Eight
‘Now, Mr Douglas Wainwright,’ said Holmes in a steely voice, ‘perhaps you would sit down and tell us your story? We are, I know, all eager — nay, positively agog — to hear it.’
Mr Wainwright looked round the sitting room, which seemed full to overcrowding. His gaze took in Holmes, Sir George, Sir James, the policeman, whose name I had gathered was Perkins, and lastly myself. And I fancy he did not see one particularly friendly face amongst the entire collection. ‘Er — perhaps I’ll stand,’ ventured Mr Wainwright, but Holmes guided him gently but firmly to a chair.
‘Your tale?’ prompted Holmes again. ‘And I may add that, as you will perhaps have guessed, we are in no mood for prevarication or procrastination.’
‘In other words, the truth — and quick!’ Sir George expounded, tapping his stick against the palm of his left hand in a sinister fashion.
Mr Wainwright swallowed hard. ‘It is purely a matter of business,’ he protested feebly. ‘Constable,’ he appealed to Perkins, ‘I call upon you to witness that I have been attacked entirely without —’
‘None of your lip, my lad,’ said Perkins shortly. ‘You just answer Mr Holmes, and be quick about it.’
‘Well, then, but I do so under protest. I have a regular job, which brings me a reasonable income,’ Wainwright began. ‘A month or so back, I received a small inheritance, a touch under thirty pounds, from an unexpected source. Now, in the ordinary course of events I would have deposited it in the savings bank, but I was feeling a bit reckless. I happened to overhear a conversation in a public house, two chaps discussing the stock market, and one of them was singing the praises of a mining stock. I asked at a firm of brokers, and they seemed to think it was hopeless, but they made no difficulty about acting for me and buying a few shares. Well, the price doubled within a week, and I sold the shares before anything could go wrong.
‘A pal of mine, to whom I told the story, said my luck was in, and gave me a hot tip for a horse race. By all the laws of moral rectitude, I should have lost the lot, but I didn’t. The horse romped home at eight to one, and I found myself with four hundred pounds to play with. Now, I could have played safe, put it in the bank, even considered buying a small business. But once again I had a fancy to speculate, see if I could run it up a little more. I happened to see a note of the late Lord Hammerford’s will in the paper, and I got into conversation with the same pal who’d given me the tip on the horse. He’s a real character, knows everything that’s going on, or at any rate he appears to, and he told me that there was something odd about the will. Well, I went along to Somerset House and paid my half-crown to see the will. I couldn’t see that it took me very far, but when I mentioned the details to this pal of mine, he whistled when I mentioned the name of Sir George Lewis. Forgive me, Sir George,’ he added with an anxious look at that gentleman, ‘but he evidently knew you by reputation, and he mentioned something of your financial difficulties.’
‘And, in short, you decided to buy up Sir George’s debts?’ concluded Holmes.
Wainwright nodded. ‘It seemed a safe investment, considering Sir George’s circumstances. And as I am myself involved, as you might say, in the world of finance, it seemed safer than betting on horses and what have you.’
‘H’mm. And you say you did this entirely on your own initiative?’ asked Holmes.
‘Why, yes.’
‘No-one else involved at all, even this mysterious “pal” of yours?’
‘No, Mr Holmes. It was just a conversation, a talk in the saloon bar. Of course I bought him a few drinks and a box of cigars when the horse won, and I’d have done the same again if I’d made anything out of this other scheme. But why do you ask?’
‘Would it interest you to know that you are not the only man to have been tempted by the terms of the will to grasp a share of this great wealth?’
‘Oh? I assure you, I bought the paper in all good faith. If there are others dunning Sir George, then —’
‘These others use methods which are more direct and much less civilized than your own,’ said Holmes. ‘To put it plainly, sir, these villains have kidnapped Lady Lewis and young Lord Hammerford, and they undoubtedly plan to attempt to use them to extort the inheritance from its rightful owners.’
‘Good Lord!’ Wainwright’s face turned white at this. ‘I can only repeat, Mr Holmes, that I have nothing to do with anything like that, or with anyone else who may be involved in this matter.’ He scrabbled with the strap of his case again. ‘In fact, I shall tear up this paper now, while you all watch! And that way, you will be sure that I have nothing to gain from this dreadful crime.’
Sir George held up a hand. ‘No need for that, Mr Wainwright,’ he said. ‘Business is business, as I think you remarked just now. I have every intention of redeeming my notes at the earliest opportunity, so you hang on to them. But you see now why I was less than polite when you first rang the door bell?’
‘Indeed, yes. Doubtless you thought I was one of these villains, or something of the kind?’ And poor Mr Wainwright shivered at the thought of it.
‘Well, Mr ’Olmes,’ said Perkins rather ponderously, ‘that’s sorted that little puzzle out very nicely, as you might say, but I don’t see as how it takes us much further with the other, more pressing, matter.’
‘Quite right,’ agreed Sir James.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Holmes. He was about to elaborate when the bell of the street door rang. ‘I wonder who that is?’ he asked of the room in general.
‘Well, at least I don’t have to answer it this time!’ I muttered to myself.
A moment later Billy tapped at the door, and announced that Sir James’s driver and Peterson had returned, not very much the worse for their experiences. ‘Send them up, Billy,’ said Holmes, and in a very short time they had entered the room, looking rather sheepish. Peterson had a great bandage round his head, having, it turned out, been struck with a club of some sort; and John, the coachman, had a few cuts and bruises. But they both insisted that they were in first-class condition, and desired to be included in any plan which Holmes might formulate.
‘And have you formulated any plan, Mr Holmes?’ asked Sir James.
‘I venture to think so.’ Holmes asked Wainwright, ‘You say you are yourself employed in the world of finance?’
‘In a very small way, Mr Holmes.’
‘And may I ask what that way might be?’
‘Well.’ Wainwright coughed, then tapped his satchel. ‘The fact is, I’m a rent-collector.’
‘I rather
deduced as much,’ said Holmes.
‘Oh, it isn’t a very exciting job, I know, but it’s honest. And, as I said, it brings me in an acceptable wage each week.’
‘I am sure it does,’ said Holmes. ‘Tell me, have you a rent book with you at the moment?’
Wainwright frowned. ‘For which properties in particular, Mr Holmes?’
‘Why, that scarcely matters. For any. Have you a rent book of some sort there?’
Wainwright nodded, and produced a thick leather-bound book from his case. ‘Will that do?’ he asked, as puzzled as the rest of us.
‘It will do capitally,’ said Holmes. ‘Now, are you willing to help us to recover Lady Lewis and young Lord Hammerford?’
‘Of course,’ said Wainwright at once. ‘I am at your disposal.’
‘Very well,’ said Holmes. ‘You see, most of us are known to these villains, but you, Mr Wainwright, are not, and that circumstance is likely to prove exceedingly useful.’ And he went on to outline his plan.
Five minutes later, we were in the street. ‘We can use Sir James’s carriage,’ said Holmes, ‘and I think another cab will suffice. Billy?’ Billy whistled loudly, and a cab pulled across the road. ‘Now, gentlemen,’ said Holmes, ‘if we are all quite ready? Not you, Billy,’ he added, as the pageboy prepared to climb into the cab he had summoned. ‘I cannot expose you to possible danger.’
Billy looked positively downcast at this. ‘Please, Mr ’Olmes? Just this once?’
I added my voice to that of the pageboy. ‘Why not, Holmes? He could stay in the background, ready to carry messages and what have you. Might be useful. As for any danger, I think your scheme is pretty well foolproof there. Billy will be in no greater danger than the rest of us.’
‘Very well. But you must stay well out of the way.’
Billy, delighted, leapt into the cab, and the rest of us either followed him or got into Sir James’s carriage.
‘You’re quite sure you have the right place, Holmes?’ I asked anxiously as we rattled along.
