PINNACLE BOOKS NEW YORK

by Unknown

  "Holmes lives."

  He did indeed and was now his old self, rallying us back to those duties that our destiny had ordained for us.

  "We've got to keep a lock on this thing till we return to London."

  Orloff indicated it could be done.

  "Will you be returning with us?" asked Holmes.

  "My men can handle this, and they know what to look for." As if in answer to the thought that came to my mind, he added, "Hananish is gone, but we've still got to tie up the bundle if only for the record." Orloff must have been considering the orders he was going to give, for he added almost inaudibly: "Your brother wishes me to remain by your side." A faint cloud passed over his face, and I knew he was berating himself. If not asked, he never advanced information, especially about his employer, the mysterious Mycroft Holmes.

  In the carriage returning to Fenley and on the train back to London his remark gave me thought. The gold had been found, and those who stole it had come to an abrupt end. What now remained but the clearing up of details and the necessary tendering of information to the authorities involved? But, no, there was still Lightfoot McTigue at large.

  I was leaning against the cushioned back of our compartment as I pondered on this. Orloff sat beside the door, his small, dancer feet flat on the floor and his body upright but completely relaxed. The bowler hat with its concealed steel rim, which was such a deadly weapon in his hands, was tilted over his eyes. The even cadence of his soundless breathing, revealed by the movement of his chest, convinced me that he was asleep. Holmes, legs outstretched, was by my side.

  "I wonder where Lightfoot is at this moment?" he said softly as though reading my thoughts.

  "Probably plotting your demise," was my automatic retort.

  "The man has no bank for his emotions and only works for pay. When we clear up the treasure train matter, who's to foot his bill?"

  I sensed that he was turning this thought over in his mind, and there was a considerable silence before he spoke again. "We're one up on Lightfoot, you know, for he cannot realize that we are aware of his redheaded guise."

  I tilted my head to survey him. My friend's eyes were closed. "The Trelawney matter, and Michael's death as well, bore his trademark. He was hired to do both jobs and planned them well in advance."

  "What leads you to that conclusion?" I muttered, out of deference to our sleeping companion.

  "Ezariah Trelawney's stepson was first in line as a suspect when the banker's body was found. Right after him were Staley and Ledbetter, Trelawney's hereditary enemies. Michael had incurred the wrath of the artist Folks. But Trelawney was killed first and Lightfoot was on the scene in the redheaded disguise, which was created especially for the Michael killing. Ostensibly, the Trelawney case is closed. The Michael matter is up in the air; and Lightfoot must feel that the artist Folks is the prime suspect."

  Now I followed Holmes' drift. McTigue, stylistically, performed his antisocial duties so that others got the blame. At this point he had no reason to think his presence was known.

  The subject was of interest, spiced with an undercurrent of danger, but I chose this moment to fall asleep. Back in our familiar surroundings, with a change of clothes and a suitable meal, I felt more ready to cope with whatever crossed our horizon. Holmes had departed for points unknown but returned to sit over coffee with me. Rather impatiently, I thought, though we had some time before leaving for our appointment at the Birmingham and Northern. With our harrowing adventure in Fenley now a part of the past, I summoned my courage. It was a personal question I had in mind, hence, delivered in a tentative manner.

  "I've given more than a little thought to that near-fatal moment this morning, Holmes. Hananish's shotgun was an aged model. Do you feel his reducing the barrel length caused it to backfire on him?"

  "Gratitude is what I feel."

  Finally I got 'round Robin Hood's barn. "But there you were, looking down those twin barrels. What passed through your mind?" I was embarrassed when I said it, but who has not wondered what thought occurs when one stares at death?

  Holmes took his time answering, and I was grateful for his treating my question seriously and not evading it with a light remark. "I believe my first thought was that this was it, something that we all must come to eventually. Debitum naturae. Then I wished that it had not happened so soon. In that split second, I must have derived some satisfaction from the knowledge that I would be revenged with you and Orloff present."

  "But you did think it was going to happen?"

  Holmes indicated this was so, and I dropped the matter. His statement after Hananish had blown himself into eternity had been: "I was not meant to die." This was at variance with his words now and rather smacked of the fatalism of Eastern religions.

  At this point, Billy announced Alec MacDonald, and my thoughts shifted to other matters.

  "I'll take but a moment of your time, gentlemen," stated the Scot, and he meant it, for he did not remove his coat or cast a glance at the tantalus on the sideboard.

  "News of Lightfoot?" inquired Holmes.

  "Aye. I'm not happy dealing with informers, but there's times when it's the best we can do. There's this sister of a woman of McTigue's, you see. The whisper is that he's planning on crossing the Channel this very day. There's an alert out on him, but I'm not feeling hopeful in my bones."

  "Nor I," said Holmes. "If he's making his getaway, he'll change his appearance, something Lightfoot is adept at doing."

  "You think, then, the information is correct?"

  "I choose to. His job is done; and he's been paid, you can depend on that. What more natural than his making for the Continent, where he's been safe for some years."

  "We'll never grab him then."

  "Not unless it is in transit. I'll buy the whisper, Mr. Mac, and release the watchdogs I've had around here for that reason."

  MacDonald made to leave, but he had an exit line. "I've had some boys in the neighborhood myself of late."

  He noted Holmes' surprised reaction with satisfaction. "From time to time I have words with a certain master locksmith, you know." He was chortling as his heavy-tred sounded on the stairs.

  "Watson," said Holmes, "my friends conspire against me." He was not serious, of course, and proved it. "I do think MacDonald's constables were a trifle obvious standing in the entrance of Spears and Henry down the street. They really should have varied their station."

  Now it was I who registered surprise and it was genuine. "You noticed, then?"

  "When I stop noticing, we're in trouble, good chap."

  A tap on the door and another appearance of Billy prevented me from replying to this. I had no rejoinder in any case.

  Our page boy handed Holmes a cablegram, which he opened eagerly. After a long moment of concentration, he folded the message and placed it in his pocket with satisfaction.

  "Billy, fetch us a hansom. Dr. Watson and I are off to the lion's den."

  "Mr. Orloff is waiting outside with one now, Mr. 'Olmes."

  "I might have known," chuckled the sleuth as he waved me toward the door.

  Chapter 20

  Denouement

  THE COUNCIL ROOM of the B & N Railroad was much as I remembered it; but then, despite all that had happened, our previous visit had been but eight days ago. The board of directors were not in evidence and that caught me up short. I figured Alvidon Chasseur for an exhibitionist and thought he might relish an audience when he received the Inter-Ocean payment and had the opportunity to laugh at Sherlock Holmes. Claymore Frisbee had set up our meeting for the ostensible purpose of paying the insurance claim. With the rail tycoon was a sallow-faced man that I earmarked with the title secretary. Also present was the grizzled old board member Chasseur had been conferring with on our first visit. This time the magnate rose to indicate our seats alongside the great oak table. As before, he ignored me completely but did direct a quizzical glance at Orloff.

  "An associate," said Holmes, which seemed to satisfy Chasseur. Orloff di
d not sit at the conference table with us, but seemed much interested in a chest against the wall opposite the fireplace, obviously decorative, for it served no purpose. It was a fine old piece, of lowlands origin I thought, and surely with its original lock and key. I made note to check it for the name of the cabinetmaker, since they signed things in those days.

  Chasseur decided to ignore Orloff as well, centering his large eyes on Holmes. There was a malicious twist to his thin lips.

  "Our second meeting is under different circumstances indeed, Mr. Holmes. I will be frank. It is not quite the tidy wind-up one associates with he who is reputed to be the greatest man-hunter of them all. By his own admission, I might add."

  "We all make mistakes," replied Holmes, and I never expected to hear him say that. But then he was letting the pompous railroad man take in more wind before he punctured his balloon. "During my last visit, I labeled Colonel Moran as the finest shot our eastern empire had produced. At that time I had not seen your man Ledger in action."

  "I would talk to you about that," said Chasseur excitedly. "Ledger has disappeared, and my railroad detectives are searching for him. Scotland Yard as well, for he has to be involved in the robbery."

  "Before it was over he was, perhaps not in the manner you think."

  Chasseur gave Holmes a strange look but decided not to pursue this. "Now to business, for my schedule is tight. The matter of the payment from Inter-Ocean."

  "I don't have it," replied Holmes blandly.

  "But Frisbee promised to . . ."

  "He promised to honor your claim at this time if the gold was not found."

  "That goes without saying."

  "But I've found it, you see."

  Chasseur leaned back in his chair and exhaled, and I'm blessed if it didn't sound like air escaping from a balloon. There was consternation on his face. I couldn't figure if he was amazed at recovering the shipment or disappointed at not being able to rub Holmes' nose in the ground.

  "This cannot be one of those practical jokes I'm told you indulge in," he finally stammered.

  "Hardly. It is a reasonably simple story. Most cases are, once solved. The participants may be familiar to you. Ezariah Trelawney, Burton Hananish, and Ramsey Michael were involved in a scheme to pirate four hundred thousand pounds' worth of gold from the west coast banks. There was another hundred thousand to be picked up from the Inter-Ocean insurance as well."

  "But where is the gold, Mr. Holmes?"

  "In the Bank of England."

  "Wait, now! I did know Trelawney and Hananish, and the latter's deposit in the Bank of England is old news. But it was made prior to the B & N shipment."

  "Your shipment was of crates of baser metal with little value indeed."

  Now Chasseur's shrewdness became evident, for he grasped the situation immediately. "Amazing. This Michael you mentioned. He was murdered, for I read it in the papers. Trelawney was killed as well, a while back. Was there a disagreement between the conspirators?"

  Chasseur thought on this for a moment, then pounded the table in front of him. "Divine intervention, that's all you can call it with Hananish dead as well."

  "How did you know that?" asked Sherlock Holmes.

  "Why, the news came to me at midmorning, I believe . . ."

  "A cable, Mr. Chasseur," said the shallow-faced secretary.

  "Exactly. If the three conspirators have met their end, you can understand my immediate thought regarding a higher power. But come, yours is the practical approach, and there must be a rational explanation. Trelawney was involved in the gold shipment, as was Hananish. What alerted you to this Michael fellow?"

  "Something relative to his murder," replied Holmes.

  "And you were able to tie the three together? The tales of your amazing professional powers are not overstated, sir. How did you do it?"

  "They served in the same regiment in the Crimea. Also, their names were a clue. Relative to the Bible, you see."

  "The Bible?" Chasseur appeared befuddled.

  "You may recall that Nebuchadnezzar had brought to his court in Babylon certain of the children of Israel."

  "Wait, Mr. Holmes, for I know my Bible well. You speak of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Good heavens, I see it! In Judah they were Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. That's what tied them together in your mind? Brilliant."

  Holmes gestured in a modest manner, a cloak ill-fitting to his shoulders. "It was a coincidence that would be hard to overlook. Like three ladies on a committee named Faith, Hope, and Charity. They would become known to each other, I'm sure."

  Chasseur was regarding my friend, reluctantly I thought, with some awe. "With this thin thread you tied them into the plot to swindle the Inter-Ocean," he said.

  "Not exactly. Recall that there was someone else associated with the three wise men."

  The tycoon preened himself. "I do, sir. Let me quote to you: 'And these three men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, fell down bound into the midst of the burning fiery furnace.'"

  "'Then Nebuchadnezzar the king was astonished, and rose up in haste, and spake, and said unto his counselors, Did not we cast three men bound into the midst of the fire? They answered and said unto the king, True, O king.'"

  "'He answered and said, Lo, I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire, and they have no hurt; and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God.'"

  Chasseur was regarding Holmes rather tauntingly. "Surely, sir, you are not suggesting that the Son of God was in cahoots with three modern-day bandits?"

  "A scholarly rendition from the book of Daniel, Mr. Alvidon Daniel Chasseur. My compliments."

  I slid my hand into my coat pocket, gripping the Smith-Webley, for now it was obvious. The implication was not missed by the rail magnate; and I thought he paled slightly, though he retained his hauteur. Holmes did not wait for a response.

  "It was Daniel, renamed Belteshazzar, who came to Babylon with the others; and it is the fourth man I'm after. He has to exist, else nothing makes sense. Ezariah Trelawney was a miserly soul who never left his native village of Shaw. Hananish was a cripple, entrenched in Fenley. Michael was very much of the London scene. Unless they transacted their considerable business by post, there had to be a connective link. Also, the well-planned robbery depended on a knowledge of the time and route of the treasure train, plus the plan to guard it evolved by Ledger."

  "Trelawney was a stockholder in Birmingham and Northern. So was Hananish," sputtered Chasseur; but his argument sounded weak, even to him.

  "Probably Michael as well," replied Holmes. "Which brings us to the nub of the matter. There are too many stockholders of the B & N. You were originally financed by a cadre of speculators in Scotland. The Scotch are of the opinion that they hold seventy-five percent of your rail empire. But how about the financial group in Cornwall? You attended a stockholders' meeting there recently; and I learned they hold around eighty percent of the outstanding stock of the B & N, or think they do. Your three partners have large blocks of the company as well."

  Chasseur's face was becoming a fiery red. "Mr. Holmes, for a presumably clever man you are indicating a naiveté about financial matters. Books are inspected. What kind of sleight of hand do you fancy I indulged in?"

  "Your words are apt," responded the sleuth. "The B & N was constantly expanding, engulfing other rail concerns. As long as you were altering your corporate structure, a clear picture could not be obtained, for you obfuscated matters with preferred issues, convertibles, deferred bonds, and all the prestidigitation of which you are an obvious master. It had a disadvantage in that the moment you ceased to expand, someone would be able to figure out that your original stock issue did not incorporate one hundred percent of the company, but two or three times that amount. That is why, right now, you are involved in the acquisition of the London, Tilbury and Southend Railroad."

  "How did you learn of that?" spat Chasseur, with a venomous look at his secretary and then the speechless member of the board sitting beside him. Bot
h, for some time now, had looked like they wished they were somewhere else. Somewhere far away.

  "Ledger mentioned the L, T & S," said Holmes, "and I checked them out. The offer you made that concern was tempting indeed, but involved a relatively modest initial outlay, with the bulk to come in time payments. That's what you were buying—time. The London, Tilbury and Southend, as a matter of procedure, had one of their officers run a check on your assets. A pleasant man, I had quite a talk with him. He was much impressed by the four hundred thousand pounds in gold in the Bank of London, deposited to the account of Burton Hananish but with a deed of transfer to the B & N Railroad. Then there was more than that in promissory notes from the Credit Lyonnais. He gave an A-1 report to his superiors because, just at the time of his survey, you had all that collateral available, courtesy of your partners, Hananish and Trelawney. With the L, T & S in your grasp, you are ready to do business with the Deutsche Bank."

  The first vestige of panic was forcing its way past Chasseur's guard and into his eyes. "German banks are attempting to secure a foothold in British industry and transportation ranks high in their plans. The Deutsche Bank has agreed."

  Since Chasseur just regarded him dumbly, Holmes extracted the cable he had received prior to our departure from Baker Street. "You may not even know as yet, so let me inform you of the news obtained by an operative of mine in Berlin at this moment." He read the cable.

  "'Cincinnati committed projection ten biggest credit mark BN.' Signed, Wally."

  Chasseur had recovered some of his composure; but there was a grim look about him, as though all exits were being blocked.

  "You can't siphon any sense from that gibberish," he said with a sneer.

  "I can because it is the simple odd word code, which my associate knew I would recognize. The odd words in the message relate to the true words intended. The even words are legitimate. My correspondent is American, by the way, which aided my decoding. The first word, Cincinnati, is bogus, but in America that metropolis has a considerable German population, so I substituted Germans. Projection gave me a moment's thought till I came up with extension. I expected a message relative to a sum, and the biggest number that comes to mind is million. So we have: Germans committed extension ten million credit. Mark must mean line, and the BN refers to Birmingham and Northern. With a ten million credit line from the Deutsche Bank plus the London, Tilbury and Southend acquisition, you could have muddled your books for years and kept your unsuspecting stockholders at bay as well."