"How may I help you, gentlemen?", he asked.
"Mr Leonticles, my name is Sherlock Holmes and I have been commissioned to look into the murder of the late Mr Simeonov," replied Holmes, "It would materially aid me in my investigation if you would answer a few questions relating to that mystery."
Mr Leonticles smoothed his beard and moustache before replying. "I would be happy to offer any assistance, Mr Holmes, but I regret to say that I know little that would be of interest to you."
"Nevertheless, you may well be able to help clarify a few points," said Holmes, "for example, could you tell me where you were when you heard the shot that killed Mr Simeonov?"
"I was in my room."
"Your room is two doors down from Simeonov's, and yet when Lord Eversden and Orman Pasha arrived, they found Colonel Yusufoglu kneeling beside the body, while you stood some distance away. Why did you not rush to his assistance?"
"Yusufoglu's room was between mine and Simeonov's and he was able to reach him first," replied Leonticles, beads of perspiration beginning to appear on his forehead.
"Was the colonel in his room when the shot was fired?" asked Holmes.
"I think so. When I came out into the corridor he was already there, kneeling beside Simeonov."
"Mr Leonticles," asked Sherlock Holmes, bluntly, "did Colonel Yusufoglu kill Mr Simeonov?"
"No!"
"You seem remarkably sure of that. How can you know that he did not kill Simeonov?"
"Colonel Yusufoglu is not capable of murder. I have — I am sure he did not kill him."
"And yet Count Balinsky seems certain that the colonel is the murderer."
"Count Balinsky is mistaken," said the Consul firmly.
"Thank you, Mr Leonticles," said Holmes, suddenly, and rose to leave the room. As we reached the door, Holmes stopped to examine a small Greek statuette on a table beside the window.
"I have a great interest in the art of the Ancient Greeks. Is this not a reproduction of Aphrodite?" he asked the Consul, with a charming smile upon his face.
"No, no," replied our host, "coming round his desk, limping slightly as he came, and pointing to another sculpture on a table on the other side of the room, "this is Aphrodite." "Of course," said Holmes. "Thank you again, Mr Leonticles, we will take no more of your valuable time."
"We progress, Watson," said Holmes, as we sat in the cab on our way to Belgrave Square, "You noticed his limp?"
I had, indeed, noticed it. "Very similar to mine, Holmes, after I tripped over the pile of wood at Harrington Mews," I said, "Why did you not confront him with it?"
"There was no need," replied Holmes, "he knew it."
"But might he not flee the country, now that he knows you suspect him of breaking into the Bulgarian's house?" I asked.
"No, Watson," replied Holmes, with a smile, "I think not."
We arrived at the Turkish Embassy and were admitted by a porter who reminded me of the genie from Aladdin's lamp. He wore red boots with upturned toes, black baggy trousers and a green and highly ornate tunic. He accepted Holmes's card without a word and went to deliver it to Orman Pasha. A few minutes later, a sombre fellow in a suit and a fez came and escorted us to the Pasha's room.
This time Orman Pasha was not in full dress uniform, but was wearing a black frock-coat. He rose from behind his desk and greeted us warmly.
"Mr Holmes," he said, as he motioned us to sit down, "dare I hope that you have good news to tell?"
"We are approaching a solution to the mystery, Orman Pasha," said Holmes, "but there are some loose ends that remain. I am hopeful that a disaster may yet be averted."
"I am greatly relieved to hear it, Mr Holmes," replied the Pasha.
"I do, however, have a few questions to ask you, after which I would like to meet Colonel Yusufoglu," said Holmes, sitting back in his chair. "Orman Pasha, if, as we shall for the moment assume, the Bulgarian emissary was not murdered by your Government's agents, who else would have a motive for killing him?"
The Pasha thought for a moment. "Of the people present at Lord Eversden's dinner, I cannot think of anyone who might have a motive. They are all people in prominent diplomatic positions and I cannot see what any of them would gain from doing such a thing."
"Do you not think then that the reasonable conclusion to be drawn is that one of your Government's agents did, in fact, commit the murder? Colonel Yusufoglu was kneeling beside Simeonov; Simeonov appeared to accuse him with his dying words; Count Balinsky is convinced of his guilt. No other evidence seems to suggest the guilt of any other man. Must not the conclusion be that the colonel is guilty?"
The Pasha looked at Holmes with an expression of mingled amusement and impatience. "Mr Holmes," he said, "why do you suggest such a thing when you are already convinced that it is not true?"
"Why does Your Excellency conclude that I do not accept this as the truth?"
"Because you have already told me that you have high hopes of averting disaster, Mr Holmes. If you did, indeed, believe in Yusufoglu's guilt, you would not have said that."
Holmes smiled his tight, secret smile. "Guilt is a matter of definition.We must not forget that, in any murder, the murderer's motive is of at least equal importance to his identity."
The Pasha's brow darkened. "I fear, Mr Holmes, that, whatever the motive, it will make little difference in this case if Yusufoglu is the murderer. Do you wish to speak with him now?"
Holmes nodded and the Pasha rang a bell. The sombre individual entered the room and was given a few brief instructions in Turkish, whereupon he left, to return a few minutes later with a tall, broad-shouldered man — Colonel Yusufoglu. He was a dark-complexioned giant, with fierce black eyes and a thick black moustache. I will admit that he struck me as a morose fellow, who might well commit murder if the need arose.
The Pasha introduced us and Holmes and I shook hands with him. He sat down, eying us suspiciously.
"Colonel," began Holmes, "I hope you will excuse me if I speak openly and bluntly, because of what is at stake in this matter. You are, no doubt, aware that you are seen as being the prime suspect for the murder of Anton Simeonov. What have you to say in your defence?"
"I did not murder the Bulgarian," replied the colonel stolidly. "Then who did?"
"I had been given to understand that it was your task to find that out."
"Nevertheless, I would be interested in your views on the matter."
"I did not witness the killing, how could I know who killed the man?"
"What did you mean when you said to Count Balinsky that he knew the truth?"
"I meant that he must know that I had every reason not to commit the murder. Even he must be aware that such an act would precipitate the events we were all anxious to avoid."
"Why did you say 'Ask yourself who is the murderer'?"
The Military Attaché shifted uneasily. "I was inviting him to think more clearly." I noticed that Orman Pasha was looking at the colonel with a worried expression on his face, as though he found his answers to Holmes's questions weak and unconvincing.
Holmes leapt to his feet. "Thank you, colonel, you have told me everything I need to know."
The colonel rose from his seat, looking at Holmes with an expression half angry and half fearful. He turned and said something in Turkish to Orman Pasha, who nodded. The colonel turned and looked at Holmes with smouldering black eyes, then abruptly left the room.
"Orman Pasha," said Holmes, when the colonel had gone, "does any member of your staff speak Bulgarian?"
"I speak Bulgarian myself, Mr Holmes," replied the Pasha, with an expression of mild astonishment on his face.
"Good, then perhaps you would be good enough to tell me whether this English sentence is a correct translation of the Bulgarian sentence above it." He handed our host a small piece of paper. The Pasha took it and I was disturbed to see the old man start violently.
"What is the meaning of this, Mr Holmes," said the Pasha, "What are you telling me?"
"I am telling you that this case is much more complicated than we thought at the outset. I take it the translation is accurate?"
"It is accurate, Mr Holmes," said the Pasha, shaking his head in puzzlement and disbelief.
On our way back to Baker Street, Holmes stopped at a post office to send a telegram. He then went to pay a visit to his brother Mycroft at the Diogenes Club and I made my way to Baker Street alone.When he finally arrived, Holmes walked over to the mantelpiece and, to my horror, he stood contemplating the syringe that enabled him to indulge his only weakness.
"Holmes, my dear fellow," I said, "you have arrived at your final conclusion in this case."
"Yes,Watson, I have arrived at my final conclusion."
We had a quiet dinner, as usual prepared by the excellent Mrs Hudson. After the meal, Holmes stood up. "Tomorrow morning we will go Stoke Morden to save the world," he said. "Better have an early night, Watson." He disappeared into his bedroom, while I went to mine in a sombre mood.
eventually arrived at Royston Manor, I noticed that a number of fine carriages drawn by magnificent horses were moving off the broad gravel pathway that led to the house. We were admitted by the old butler and were shown into the drawing room, where, to my astonishment, I found that all the dramatis personae of the recent tragedy were present. Lord Eversden was seated in his armchair, with Orman Pasha on the settee beside him. Baron Nopchka sat at the other end of the settee, while Mr Leonticles and Colonel Yusufoglu were sitting on armchairs opposite the settee. Count Balinsky, as though disdaining the company of others, sat somewhat apart, near the window. Mycroft Holmes was sitting on an upright chair in front of a table behind the settee.
As we entered, Lord Eversden rose and came across to greet us.
"I received your telegram, Mr Holmes," he said. "As you can see, they are all here. Inspector Lestrade will be arriving in about one hour's time." He motioned us to sit down, which I did on an upright chair near Baron Nopchka. Holmes declined the invitation and remained standing.
"My lords and gentlemen," began Holmes, "I am happy to be able to report that I have unravelled the mystery that has recently cast a shadow over international relations. Regrettably, it is unlikely that we will be able to bring the culprit to justice, since we are dealing with a very clever criminal. My investigations allow me to conclude that an armed burgler managed to gain entry to the house. He made his way stealthily upstairs, where he was surprised by Mr Anton Simeonov. Before Mr Simeonov was able to raise the alarm, the burglar drew his revolver and shot him, just as the victim was about to defend himself by drawing out his own weapon. The murderer was then able to conceal himself behind the large armchair in the corridor and stayed there when you all arrived at the scene. When you all left the corridor, he made his escape through one of the windows, through which he jumped. He then cleverly concealed his tracks and made off. It is highly unlikely that he will ever be apprehended."
We all stared at Holmes. Lord Eversden said: "But this is not credible, Mr Holmes. There is nothing to suggest that such a thing happened." He turned a troubled look to Mycroft, who, alone in the gathered audience, was nodding, with an amused smile of understanding on his face.
Count Balinsky snorted derisively: "Do you think my Government will accept such a story, such a transparent fabrication?" He rose to his feet. "Excuse me, Lord Eversden, but I am obliged to telegraph the Czar's cabinet." He took a step or two across the room, with a smile of malicious satisfaction on his face, when Holmes took a long stride and barred his way.
"My dear Count," he said severely, "I strongly advise you to sit down. The story I have given you may be preferable to your Government — and to you — than the alternative I am able to offer." The Count glared at Holmes, but slowly his expression changed to one of hunted suspicion. Holmes returned to the spot at which he had been standing, while the Count remained standing for a few moments. The whole room was tense. Slowly, the Count resumed his seat.
"The difficulty with this case was the absence of a motive, other than the obvious one in the case of an assassination by agents of the Turkish Government," said Holmes. "The foolishness of such an undertaking, especially under the present political atmosphere, suggested that murder by a Turkish agent was extremely unlikely. Such a crime could not possibly have served the aims of the Turkish Government — in fact, quite the reverse — so I dismissed it as a real possibility from the outset. However, this does not mean that the murder could not have been committed by a Turkish person for non-political reasons. This, too, seemed unlikely, since such a person committing such a crime would be perfectly aware of the political interpretation that some people would put upon it.
"Therefore, my working hypothesis was that the crime was not committed by either of the Turkish guests. Orman Pasha, in any case, was not under suspicion, since he was with Lord Eversden at the time. But Colonel Yusufoglu was found kneeling beside Simeonov and Count Balinsky accused him of the murder. On the other hand, the colonel appeared to be unarmed but, had he been the murderer, he would not have had time to dispose of the weapon, unless he shot Simeonov, rushed away to dispose of the weapon and then, perversely, returned to place himself in the incriminating position of kneeling beside the man he had shot.
"The other confusing aspect of this case is that I had started with the assumption that Simeonov's murderer and the man who assaulted him some weeks ago were one and the same. At least, it seemed reasonable to assume that the two events were related. My investigations revealed to me that they were not and that was the clue that solved the mystery."
Holmes turned to Lord Eversden. "Someone in this room killed Simeonov, but he is no murderer. The only murderer among your guests was Simeonov himself!"
Except for Mycroft, we all gasped with astonishment. Count Balinsky sat forward in his chair and his expression looked more hunted than ever. Leonticles looked paler than usual. Colonel Yusufoglu covered his face with his hands.
"Yes," said Holmes, looking in turn at the Greek Consul, the Turkish Colonel and the Russian Count. "You know the truth of this. When ColonelYusufoglu said that Count Balinsky knew the truth, he was speaking the truth, was he not Count?"
"You dare to accuse a member of the Czar's Government of killing —" he began, rising to his feet.
"Control yourself, Count," said Holmes, harshly. "No one has accused you of killing Simeonov. Your crime is far more diabolical." The Count opened his mouth to reply, but all eyes turned towards him, and no sound came from his throat. He sat down, his face working.
"When the colonel said that Count Balinsky knew the truth, he meant that he knew that Simeonov was a murderer. Count Balinsky understood this very well, but preferred to pretend he did not, for reasons that will become clear presently. In fact, Simeonov was shot as he was about to commit another murder. His intended victim was ready for him and the tables were turned. The revolver lying on the ground was the one with which Simeonov intended to commit murder, not one that he drew out to defend himself.
"When I examined Simeonov's belongings, I discovered a small box containing what appeared to be greeting cards. So they were — of a kind. I hope I will be forgiven for distracting attention by pretending to see something through the window, but it was necessary for me to extract them without being seen to do so. Each card had the letters vmro on it." Holmes drew one out of his pocket and held it up. The letters were very large and were easily visible across the room. Holmes turned to Count Balinsky: "You recognize these symbols of the notorious Balkan anarchist organization with no name, do you not, Count? I imagine everyone else in this room does as well. However, only three people here present knew about Simeonov's murderous past and of his membership of that organization. When Watson and I broke into Simeonov's house, I discovered three other cards, each with the letters IMRO printed on it. Imro is a rival anarchist organization, bitterly opposed to the first. One card had the following written on it in Bulgarian: "Death is near.You have been warned." My translation was kindly confirmed by Orman Pa
sha when I showed it to him yesterday. The card also bore the December date on which Simeonov was assaulted in the street. His would-be assassin on that occasion was a member of the opposing criminal group.
"Understanding this helped me to understand the rest. Baron Nopchka overheard Mr Leonticles urging ColonelYusufoglu to act, but the colonel was urging restraint. The Baron was worried by this because he thought that Mr Leonticles may have been referring to a planned murder of Simeonov, but he was wrong. Mr Leonticles wished to expose Simeonov for the criminal he was, whereas the colonel was probably urging Mr Leonticles to wait until they were at a meeting in London, where the building would be guarded by policemen, making it difficult for Simeonov to escape once he was identified. Count Balinsky barged noisily into the room while the colonel was speaking, but it is my belief that he had overheard enough of the conversation to understand its significance. He then told Simeonov what he had heard and Simeonov determined to take matters into his own hands.
"It was Mr Leonticles who recognized Simeonov. He was in Thessaly when Colonel Yusufoglu was serving there as the Governor's Deputy and they were both involved in quelling the riots instigated by vmro. As soon as he recognized Simeonov as one of the criminals who were condemned to death, but later escaped, he told Colonel Yusufoglu.
"We come now to the question of why Count Balinsky told Simeonov of Mr Leonticles' recognition of him. The Count is, as we all know, determined to start another Russo-Turkish war, from which he believes Russia would benefit. The Count was
well aware that, if he told Simeonov that Leonticles knew of his past, Simeonov would try to silence him. If a Greek is murdered during this meeting, suspicion would immediately fall upon the Turks. If Simeonov was killed, suspicion would still fall upon the Turks. Either way, he could use the event as an excuse to forment trouble and urge the Czar to declare war against the Sultan. His plan could not fail. He waited downstairs outside the library so that he would be able to rush upstairs when someone else appeared — in the event it was Baron Nopchka — in order to ensure himself an alibi."
The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures Page 58
