by Alex Auswaks
‘You must be the gentleman who called earlier,’ said Holmes.
‘Indeed I am! I was here some hours ago but, unfortunately, missed you. I do beg of you to hear me out—’
‘I am at your service,’ Sherlock Holmes bowed. ‘I presume that you need my assistance in some matter, but I am surprised how you found out who I am, and that I am here at all.’
‘Oh!’ exclaimed the stranger. ‘The whole town is talking about you. In any case, your fame has crossed the sea and it is not surprising that, hearing of your arrival, I immediately decided to meet you.’
Flattered by such a response, Sherlock Holmes smiled and bowed. ‘Do take off your coat and make yourself comfortable.’
The guest threw off his coat and approached the detective, ‘Allow me, then, the honour of presenting myself. Ivan Vladimirovitch Terehoff,’ he said, giving his name, patronymic and surname. ‘I am a local merchant and a member of the First Guild.’ He gave a little bow.
‘Very pleased to meet you,’ answered the detective. ‘How can I be of service to you?’
Terehoff sank into an armchair, lit a cigarette and began his story. ‘I sell linen, lingerie and fashionable goods of every sort. My father and grandfather were also in the same line of business. Ours is an old and well-established family business. Usually, I trade in town, but every summer we have a fair. Our fair dates from the thirteenth century and traders come from Central Asia, Siberia and many, many other faraway places. For the period of this Great Fair I rent premises in the Commercial Centre. That is where I now have a shop, along the right-hand side of the arcade.
‘Up until this year everything went well, and I had nothing to worry about. But this year, a whole series of unusual events have shocked not only my employees, but also my prospective customers who, by the way, are already gathering for the fair.
‘Before the shop was ready to open, my three assistants and I were putting away merchandise on the shelves and decorating the display windows. We had worked by the light of electric lamps. I had opened the shop myself and locked it up myself, first having switched off the electric lights when we were done for the day. I put the locks on the door and the metal grill over the windows. I turned to go, when the senior shop assistant leapt to my side. His face was as pale as our linen. He was trembling.
‘“What’s happened?” ‘ I asked in alarm.
‘“For God’s sake,” ‘ he whispered. ‘“For God’s sake, look in the display window.” ‘
‘I looked, and stepped back in horror.
‘Some sort of creature resembling a human figure wrapped in a shroud danced as if possessed inside my shop, shaking itself all over as it danced.
‘The two other shop assistants were struck dumb. They were as terrified as my senior assistant and I were at that moment.
‘We stood there for several minutes, rooted to the spot.
‘I’m not timid by nature. I’ve been educated abroad, and I’m a university graduate. I’m not one to believe in black magic.
‘But even I was a little afraid. Not for long, though.
‘I recovered, took myself in hand and began to undo the locks.
‘But just in case, I sent one of the shop assistants to fetch a policeman and ordered the senior assistant to watch the apparition through the window.
‘Hardly had I taken the second lock off, when he yelled out, “Gone! God preserve us sinful creatures.”
‘He said that it had vanished all of a sudden and the shop was plunged into darkness again.
‘The policeman now appeared with the assistant sent for him.
‘“There is someone in the shop,” I said to the policeman. “Come in with me and let’s look.”
‘I unlocked the door, switched on the lights and with great difficulty persuaded the assistants to follow me inside. The shop was exactly as we had left it. There was no trace of the apparition, no sign of revelry. The five of us searched every nook and cranny. We searched under the counters, in drawers and boxes, turned over the entire stock. A mouse would not have eluded us. But … all our exertions were in vain. Was it a figment of our imagination? I decided that that was the case.
‘Evidently my staff thought otherwise.
‘The next day we continued with our work.
‘But in the evening, just as I locked up the shop, the entire incident was re-enacted.
‘The pale apparition shook and pranced about. Now I had a chance to look at it. There was no face, just a skull and a set of terrifying bared teeth.
‘The apparition skipped in a paroxysm on the same spot, threatening us with a long knife, which it held in one bony hand.
‘We trembled in terror. We wanted to run.
‘I made a superhuman effort and again unlocked the shop. That very instance the apparition vanished.
‘Inside, it was as if nothing had happened.
‘My employees fled and a crowd of people from neighbouring shops gathered round me. The whole of the Commercial Centre was there. Everyone was terrified, confused, bewildered, dismayed. Some of those present had caught a brief glimpse of the apparition. They were now describing it to the others who, in their turn, were torn between fear and curiosity.
‘Someone said to sprinkle holy water inside the shop and conduct prayers.
‘The more courageous went in with me and, again, the shop was searched. And yet again, nothing and nobody.
‘The third day was the eve of the opening of the Great Fair.
‘Ignoring my pleas, my employees flatly refused to enter the shop. Holy water had to be sprinkled, religious rites had to be carried out, before they relented. I had also taken the precaution of asking the help of the Chief of Detectives. Two detectives were assigned to the shop. They searched it thoroughly before I locked up, tested the floor and walls, but found nothing.
‘It was only after I switched off the lights and put the locks on the door that the two detectives themselves and my employees stepped back in horror from the display window through which they had been peering.
‘“It’s a corpse!” someone screamed in an inhuman voice.
‘My hair stood on end.
‘There in the shop, I saw a large coffin, inside which a loathsome skeleton sat, holding on to the edges with skeletal fingers. The others told me that I had missed the part when the lid of the coffin fell open and the skeleton sat up.
‘The shroud no longer covered it.
‘And then the skeleton suddenly bounded out of the coffin, and once on its feet, began a frenzied dance. Next, a thick column of smoke blew out of the coffin and everything vanished as if by magic.’
III
Ivan Vladimirovitch Terehoff fell silent and asked for a drink.
‘A drop of port is just what is called for,’ said Sherlock Holmes, and poured him a drink.
Terehoff reached for the glass and drained it.
‘Your story intrigues me more and more by the minute,’ said the English detective. ‘Do go on.’
‘I think I got to the point where the apparition vanished,’ Terehoff resumed his account. ‘My employees made themselves scarce. I screwed up what little courage I had left and, together with the two detectives, we re-entered the shop.
‘This time we actually raised the floor but, again, found nothing suspicious.
‘It was midnight before I returned home. I felt beaten, racked by evil forebodings.
‘My wife, thoroughly frightened by all these happenings tried, for the third time, to convince me that the place was cursed, that it would bring bad luck, and I should move my shop elsewhere.
‘The appearance of the coffin she regarded with superstitious awe.
‘As for me, I have to admit that I found it all horribly oppressive. All through the night, I was pursued by nightmares in which countless coffins appeared. In my waking hours, I was distracted by melancholia. My heart ached constantly.
‘I hated the thought of abandoning the familiar surroundings in which I had traded so long.
&n
bsp; ‘Those of us whose business lies in the Commercial Centre can depend on regular trade there. Anyone would have to look long and hard and yet not find anything as well suited for that purpose.
‘There was a vacancy at the other end of the arcade, but it was too small for me and, besides, surrounded by smaller stalls that all but hid it from view. The rest of the Commercial Centre was occupied by well-established firms. It was unlikely any one of them would be available in time for the opening.
‘I decided to sit it out.
‘My old shop assistants flatly refused to continue working for me. I had to find new ones.
‘I found only two fellows brave enough to work for me, and they demanded double wages. Since I didn’t know them personally, I had to make enquiries about them.
‘One of them had worked a year for some major manufacturer, but had been dismissed for bring rude. His name was Simon Reshkin. The other was an Englishman, Smith Copton. He had worked for a Russian bank some time ago, but resigned in high dudgeon. A large sum of money had gone missing and he had objected to being searched. Quite a few employees had been searched and they’d not made a fuss over it. But this proud Englishman had taken umbrage. He had been held in high esteem by his superiors, who had tried to talk him into staying, but he left nevertheless.
‘Since then things had been hard for him, but he preferred to eke out a living from the little money he had saved. Anything, not to work at a job in which he would be treated badly again.
‘He was particularly recommended by the director of the bank in which he had been employed.
‘The Englishman didn’t immediately agree to work for me.
‘It was only when I told him the whole story of the apparition, that he announced, with a grin, that he was drawn out of curiosity and a desire to earn his fare home.
‘The Great Nijni-Novgorod Fair opened.
‘We opened up in the morning and had just taken our places, when all three were forced to flee as though driven mad.
‘It was the smell.
‘Not just an ordinary sort of stink. This was a loathsome, acidic smell which caused our heads to spin and bile to rise in our throats.
‘It wasn’t that the smell was strong. Its effect was awful, so awful that we couldn’t stay inside the shop, nor even stand beside it in the arcade. It seemed to have penetrated every nook and cranny. It filled the air.
‘Customers approaching the shop or walking past it seemed to break out in some kind of paroxysm followed by headlong flight, holding on to their noses, cursing.
‘Our neighbours, reacting to the fuss, ran out of their shops and then, at a distance, yelled at us to lock our jinxed shop and get the hell out of there.
‘The fuss grew by the minute.
‘At the risk of passing out, I got to the door, slammed it and locked it shut.
‘The noise brought the police. The senior of them, when what had happened had been explained to him, lost his temper. “What’s going on here!” he shouted. “Everyone else is behaving normally but here, as if on purpose, there’s all these senseless goings-on.”
‘I tried to justify myself, but he refused to listen.
‘I unlocked the door for him, but before he could go in, he backed away as if scalded, holding his nose. “What are you up to?” he screamed at me. “What have you been sprinkling inside?”
‘But I could only tell him what I knew.
‘Both shop assistants confirmed my story and the police officer drew up a protocol.
‘To determine what the odour was, a chemist and a doctor were summoned, but the moment they poked their noses inside, they rushed out, as though driven mad.
‘Retreating some distance from the door, they stared at each other with bulging eyes, spat and finally announced they had never come across such a foul smell in either chemistry or medicine.
‘Neither of my assistants being prepared to enter the shop, it became necessary to call out the fire brigade. They smashed the windows leading out on to the street. When the air inside had cleared somewhat, they came in to determine the source of the foul odour. Even though the shop had been ventilated somewhat, they couldn’t stay long. Emerging, they said that the odour came from the outer facing of one of the counters. The counter was then smashed and the pieces thrown out. But there were horses outside. They began to breathe hoarsely and then took to headlong flight, dragging their carriages with them … followed by the curses of the coachmen.
‘The assistants now informed me that they couldn’t work here any longer. “It’s not your apparition that scares me,” said Smith Copton. “I just don’t want to breathe such foul air. You’re being pursued by some evil genie. It would be best for you to move. Do so, and you’ll get good staff. Stay here, you won’t survive the week.”
‘Both left, wishing me all the very best.’
Terehoff fell silent again.
Sherlock Holmes listened to him attentively, very taken by the story. He refilled Terehoff’s glass and handed it to him. Terehoff drank.
‘How did it all end?’
‘After that last incident, my wife renewed her pleas even more forcefully for me to change premises,’ answered Terehoff. ‘Finally, I gave in and took the only premises left in the Commercial Centre.’
‘And then?’
‘As soon as I had vacated my premises, I still kept an eye on it. I think the apparition must have gone on strike. For a while the place remained vacant, but then some Greek called Alferakki took it over. He trades in eastern delicacies and fruit, both wholesale and retail.’
‘And how are things with him?’
‘He doesn’t know of any apparition and laughs at me when someone brings up my misfortunes,’ Terehoff said angrily. ‘Personally, I don’t believe in the supernatural. I am sooner likely to suspect some human trickery. In a word, I’m mentally confused. Then I heard that you are in Nijni-Novgorod and decided to seek your advice. Supernatural or otherwise, I want to get at the truth. I am prepared to pay you five thousand roubles.’
Sherlock Holmes smiled, ‘That would amount to five hundred pounds sterling.’
‘Absolutely so!’
‘In that case I am at your disposal. For me, as an Englishman, time and every action are measured in monetary terms. Although I took a lively interest listening to your story, I wouldn’t spend any time over it, unless I was remunerated. Please draw up a contract and … who knows? Perhaps I’ll be able to restore your former premises to you, but without the evil presence.’
The detective and the merchant sat down and began to draw up a contract.
IV
Several days passed. It was late on 27 July. The shops had long since shut for the day. The drunken revelry for which the Nijni-Novgorod Fair was famous was in full swing. The old times are gone forever, as are the old music and dancing. It wasn’t so in those days. No sooner did the shops shut for the day, than the merchants hurried to the restaurants from whence music and women’s voices were raised in song. To the sound of them (part singers, part prostitutes), business deals were transacted. Mirrors were cracked. Then was yet the time, when drunken merchants still beat up waiters for any minor blunder.
That evening, the weather was terrible. The north wind blew all day. The rain poured in buckets. It was close to midnight, and everyone had taken shelter in restaurants.
Two men emerged from one of the restaurants in the park opposite the Commercial Centre. They made their way past the Flatch clock tower towards the Oka River wharf. Despite the pouring rain, the two men did not hurry. Engrossed in conversation, they spoke in undertones.
Following them out of the same restaurant, but at a distance, was a man in a hooded waterproof cape. This was Sherlock Holmes, the famous London detective. Three days and three nights spent at the fair were beginning to yield results. He had noted a few things here and there, and now wouldn’t let the two men out of his sight.
He sat down behind them on the ferry, but didn’t pick up anything useful. The two men wer
e deep in conversation, but they were only discussing the Great Fair and the prices that had been established for certain goods. They disembarked at the Krashinsky Wharf, where they parted. Sherlock Holmes managed to overhear a phrase dropped by one of them, ‘And so, congratulations on the start of work. Goodbye.’
At this moment a dark figure approached Sherlock Holmes. This was Dr Watson, who accompanied him everywhere. ‘Well, what?’ he asked softly.
‘Let’s go; I have to talk to you,’ said Sherlock Holmes.
‘What about those two?’ asked Dr Watson.
‘They’ll keep. I’m not interested in their doings when they’re apart.’
They took a coach and returned to the Post Hotel. Having locked the door, they began to share their findings.
‘I haven’t found out anything. I don’t even know the names of the pair you have been watching,’ said Watson sadly. ‘Just as you suggested, I spent two nights in the taverns along the Bentakurovsky Canal. Lots of suspicious types there. Two men entered Tarakanoff’s tavern while I was sitting there. What confused me is that they seemed alike in build to the pair you were interested in who were at the fair.’
‘Describe them?’ Sherlock Holmes interrupted.
‘One was dark, the other ginger haired. Both lean. Both with moustaches, but otherwise clean-shaven.’
Sherlock Holmes jumped up in excitement, ‘That’s them all right, the devil take them. Do go on, I beg you. Your efforts were not wasted.’
‘They sat down at the table adjoining mine and ordered an expensive wine,’ went on Watson. ‘This tavern didn’t have the brand they wanted. They insisted it must be sent for. They kept on repeating that there was some job they had to get under way, otherwise they could miss out on all this money intended for the fair. Nothing suspicious in that. But when they’d nearly got through the bottle they had ordered, one of them said, “If only we could get under way! After that, we’re all right on our own, and as for him—” Following this, they dropped their voices, though I did hear them mention the Bentakurovsky Canal several times. I suppose you know, Holmes, that this particular canal has an evil reputation. It passes through the distant countryside, along its banks are the taverns with the worst reputation, the police often find corpses in its waters, in which quite a few crimes have been concealed.’
