Repeat Business

by Lyn McConchie

  “Cousin, is that you?”

  “It is, did you think I would make no inquiries when you ceased to write? You are my cousin; I would never abandon you. Mr. Holmes has been seeking you on my behalf for weeks and now you are found.”

  She repeated his words in a failing voice. “Yes, now I am found,” and fainted. I reassured her cousin, who was horrorstricken at this.

  “She is only weak, and her faint was from relief, I believe. Call a hansom so that she may be conveyed safely to some place which will be more comfortable.”

  He obeyed my instructions as others had obeyed Holmes’ orders. Some hours later we were all of us—but Miss Mary, who was asleep in a hotel bed—sitting in Holmes’ rooms and hearing the end of the tale.

  “I read Miss Mary’s letters and guessed where they would be holding her prisoner. Normally such a cellar has ventilators to the outside, but the boys I instructed to search found those to be sealed up. It could be only to prevent any calls for help from being heard. That gave me hope she was yet alive.

  “Her stepfather drugged her in a cup of tea at her typing room, and he and his wife conveyed her home, telling the driver she was drunk. They seem to have managed to get her inside without anyone noticing her condition upon arrival as being unusual, and they placed her immediately within the cellar—giving her water to drink and a little food now and again. There she was kept until they could be certain no one had noticed anything untoward and no one was seeking her.

  “It must have been a great shock when they found Josiah was in the country and asking after her with considerable obstinacy, refusing to be put off. They decided in the end to pretend Mrs. Windibanks was her daughter and they planned to use letters previously forged to convince her cousin that Mary was still alive and that he should return to New Zealand, or so they hoped.

  “In the end I think they would have allowed her to die, starving in the dark, and would have then produced the body, claiming her to have died from a wasting disease. If they kept her death quiet (apart from the doctor’s certificate), it could have been very many years before anyone realized that Miss Mary was no longer to be found and that her mother and stepfather had the use of her income.”

  Josiah Sutherland’s look was bleak. “What will happen to them?”

  “They will pay the extreme penalty.”

  And in due course they did, after which Miss Mary took all she inherited and sailed with her cousin to New Zealand, where she hoped in a new land, and with her relative by her side, to forget her ordeal and be happy again.

  It was a year later when both Holmes and I, opening envelopes postmarked from New Zealand, found that Miss Mary’s tale had a happier ending than we had realized.

  “Holmes, I have an invitation to Miss Mary’s wedding.”

  “As have I, Watson.”

  “Mine has a note from Josiah. He says that his cousin is marrying one of his oldest friends and will live on a farm nearby. He is delighted.” I thought for a moment. “I wonder if she will come back to London for her wedding trip, Holmes?”

  He shook his head. “I think not. What fond memories does she have of this city? No, her home is elsewhere and there I think she will be content to remain.” In which it turned out he was right—as always.

  SECRETS

  I was gazing out of the window at Holmes’ rooms when I spied a familiar figure. I watched until I was certain I knew its destination before turning to my old friend.

  “Holmes, it appears you are about to receive a visit from a man you aided only a year ago. Yet here he comes to call again, and although his difficulty does not seem to weigh upon him so heavily as did the affair of the beryl coronet, still he does bear the aspect of a man who has some trouble upon his mind.”

  Holmes joined me at the window briefly. “Ah, Mr. Alexander Holder. Yes, you are right, Watson. He is bringing me a pretty little problem, but not as something realized, I do believe, more as a precaution. Well, I shall admit him. Do you care to remain and listen, I should be glad of your company.”

  I assured Holmes I should be delighted to assist in any way I could, and I therefore settled back in my chair and awaited the arrival of a man Holmes had once saved from public ruin, while also rescuing the man’s son from disgrace and imprisonment. I guessed that it was with these memories Alexander Holder had ventured to bring yet another problem to lay before the keen wits of my old friend.

  It was only minutes before the banker was shown into the room where we at once made him welcome. He was little changed, still well dressed, but in subdued and respectable clothing, and his frame remained as portly and dignified as ever. Yet I could see the trouble in his eyes and the hope that gleamed as he looked upon the face of Sherlock Holmes. In no time at all he was seated by the cheerfully blazing fire with a glass of wine in one hand, and we saw him relax a little—although the worried look yet remained to furrow his brow.

  “Now,” said Holmes, looking at the banker. “I feel you have a small problem concerning your bank, not great as yet, but you fear it could grow. What can you tell me?”

  “Why? That I do not know how you do it, Mr. Holmes, yet you are perfectly correct.“

  “Then let you speak freely and we shall listen.” So with that assurance Alexander Holder drank off the final mouthful of his wine and embarked on his tale.

  “As you both know, I am senior partner in the private bank of Holder & Stevenson. Our record of confidentiality has always been unimpeachable—but I have reason to fear that this may be so no longer. It is not for any trivial reason that I approach you, Mr. Holmes. When first I suspected something was amiss, I hired a large firm of private detectives to follow those of the bank who might be involved. This they have done for several weeks.

  “I know information may be being passed to a foreign power, and yet I can see no way in which this is being carried out. My suspicions were originally aroused when Lord Calverton told me that it would be our bank that would be the middleman in certain negotiations. Only two days later I had a conversation with the ambassador of a certain power who seemed to know without a doubt that our bank would be involved.”

  Holmes pressed the tips of his fingers together and nodded. “I see, and of course with foreign negotiations shortly to be begun between the power you mention and our Foreign Office, you would wish to be certain of your security.”

  Alexander Holder started up in horror. “You know of this?”

  “Calm yourself, sir. One of the principals—on our side of course—has already done me the honor of mentioning some of the aspects of the negotiations while asking my advice.”

  The banker sank back into his chair with a sigh of relief. “Ah, you relieve my mind, Mr. Holmes. Since you already know something of the background, I can speak more freely. Yes, that we should confirm certain aspects of our security was the suggestion of my partner, Mr. Radford Stevenson. Knowing that our bank is to be intimately involved in the negotiations, he suggested that we should examine the trustworthiness of our employees, since the three who are senior must of necessity know some small amount of what it is that is discussed and decided. This I agreed to do, and together we concocted a ruse that we believed would serve.”

  His brow furrowed in distress. “To be brief, we invented a small but unpleasant scandal involving one of our accounts. As you know, it is rare for a private bank to hold accounts for ordinary people, but in some cases it is done, and we ourselves do have some two dozen accounts of such a type as are normally dealt with by my partner and myself only. In this case, the account—I need hardly say—was fictitious, as was the supposed foreign personage whose account it was. We permitted word of this scandal to be overheard by our senior employees and the results were immediately obvious.”

  Here he brought out his wallet and produced a newspaper clipping that he showed to us. It was from a newspaper specializing in prurient and salacious gossip, and from a still more obnoxious column entitled ‘Tidbits from the Tattler,’ and we read—

  �
��It was revealed today that the Count of Esslin was being sued for his seduction of a Miss Jasmine Reddingford of this country. The lady in question claiming that marriage was offered and accepted, and that it was on this foundation the Count was permitted certain personal liberties.

  “We have just heard, however, that the Count, (being reluctant to have his affairs exposed to public scrutiny in an English court) has settled privately and instead—for a sum which should keep the young lady in comfort for the rest of her days. How useful it is to be rich.”

  Holmes made a moue of disgust. “Really, Mr. Holder.”

  “Forgive me, sir. But it was necessary to provide something that engendered a temptation to gossip if any of our senior employees were so inclined. The worst of it is,” here he passed over a report from the detective agency. “Because of the very short space of time it took for this information to reach the newspaper and appear, it is virtually certain that the person who informed them of the scandal is indeed one of our senior employees.”

  Holmes was perusing the first reports, and he looked up. “So it would appear. Please continue, Mr. Holder.”

  “It was clear to Radford and me that we must give our spy a new scandal, so that this time the agency could follow those involved from the beginning. Accordingly, we waited a week, then provided new information which was again likely to be known only by senior employees.”

  With that he proffered a second clipping, which informed its readers that a certain foreign nobleman had suffered huge losses at baccarat tables in London and was privately selling some of his heirlooms to replenish his account with cash. It suggested with a sneer that such was the lot of foreign noblemen who—with very few exceptions—were rogues, fools, or wastrels.

  “As you can see by the reports, while only three of our employees could have known this information, my partner and I made certain (by means of a meeting) that none spoke to other employees before they departed work. Once the three left the bank after junior employees had all departed, teams of private detectives followed each of them. I tell you, Mr. Holmes, none of them could have betrayed our confidence—and yet, betrayed we were. This item appeared only twenty-four hours later.

  “The agency could not even suggest any possible way in which those followed could have evaded their surveillance and passed information. Nor can they promise that it will not continue to happen, therefore I have come to you.”

  “Very wisely, if I may say so,” I congratulated him. “I am certain that my friend will be able to discover your spy and explain the method by which he communicates.”

  Holmes nodded kindly to me. “I shall do my best. Now, Holder, I know the agency you hired and they are an honest and thorough firm. What of their reports on the three employees?”

  These too were produced and I can list them as follows.

  “Mr. Robert Beldon, married, wife Ethel (nee) Masters. Two children, both too young as yet to be in school. One maid, Janet Wadel, currently walking out with the butchers’ boy. Valet, John Stample, a man of fifty-six with an impeccable record and reputation. Beldon is a careful man who lives within his income, treats his servants well, and is generally liked and trusted by those who know him. Beldon began at the bank as a boy of eighteen and has worked his way up to a senior position. His wife can be a little extravagant in her own dress, but he himself is frugal—and of recent weeks has always taken the ’bus to his home once his day’s work is done. His hobbies are cricket and the writing of Rudyard Kipling. His holidays are often taken at home, but when he can, he also enjoys tramping over some of the areas that appear in the works of Kipling.

  “Mr. Gerald Ainstruther. A bachelor of thirty-two who lives in a set of rooms. He has lived there for the past five years and his landlady speaks very highly of him as a man of quiet manners and discriminating tastes. Lives within his income, sole hobby being collecting foreign stamps, and pursuant to which he occasionally dines with fellow collectors or visits their homes. No known female associates. Ainstruther joined the bank at the time he moved to London from Guildford five years ago. However, he has excellent references from the Countries and Midland Bank and upon inquiry they assured me that he was always the soul of discretion. Ainstruther takes a hansom home on some nights and the ’bus on others, but on fine evenings he sometimes walks since his house is not at a great distance from his place of employment.

  “Mr. Andrew Mannison. Mannison was originally an officer in the paymaster’s office in India and joined the bank twelve and a half years ago. He is a widower of forty-nine with two adult daughters, Ethne, married to Major Alan Homesby, and Jane, married to Mr. Alan Forester. Neither marriage has children as yet, although Mrs. Homesby is expecting a child in the New Year. All live within their incomes and are well regarded. Mr. Mannison has no live-in servant, but a local couple, Mrs. Culbart and her husband, come in daily. Mannison has no known female associates, lives quietly, and regularly arranges for parties from the bank to attend Shakespearean plays at reduced rates for social groups. His hobby is Shakespeare’s plays on which he is regarded as substantially knowledgeable. His only luxury appears to be his preference for taking a hansom home each night from his place of employment.”

  I looked at my friend. “Three paragons of virtue, or so it seems, Holmes. What have you to say to that?”

  “Merely that even paragons have been known to fall, Watson. Mr. Mannison, for instance, is of an age when some men may fall prey to an attractive woman and commit foolish acts. If, as it appears, Mr. Belden’s marriage is indeed happy, then is he not all the more susceptible to blackmail? And Mr. Ainstruther may have some dubious secret in his past. No, what is apparently obvious at first glance is not always true.”

  He turned to the banker, who was watching us anxiously. “Now, Mr. Holder, this is what must be done to start with. Do you have another false scandal you can use to lure our spy into possible indiscretion?”

  ”Certainly.”

  “Then allow this to be known in exactly three days. On the late afternoon of Monday the 12th you shall allow the information to be overheard. Continue as before; be certain the three speak to no one until they have left the building. You will also allow the three men who bring you my card that afternoon to remain within the bank after your employees have departed. I have no objection to your remaining also, but my men must be permitted to search wherever they will. Do you agree?”

  “I will permit anything you wish. Only discover who is it who betrays us, Mr. Holmes, and I shall be forever in your debt.”

  We waited, Holmes patiently, as was his wont, but I less so since I could not believe that whichever employee was passing information would not be apprehended on this third occasion. Yet so it was. The third ‘tidbit’ duly appeared from the Tattler’s pen and we seemed to be no further along the road to discovery of the spy than we had been. Holmes’ men appeared that evening to report to him, and I listened eagerly.

  “We searched the offices, sir. Mr. Holder, he had the three at a meeting late and bid them go straight home after like, so they never come back into their offices. Me an’ Will an’ Jethro made lists of every single thing in the wastepaper baskets as you suggested. There weren’t nothing but just in case we took any bit o’ paper and put them in this envelope for you along with the lists. We followed our men home and I swear, sir, none o’ them talked to anyone nor passed them anything. I were at Mannison’s shoulder the whole way and I’d ’a seen if he did anything. The others did the same for their men, sir.”

  Holmes was perusing the lists, and I saw his eyes gleam with sudden interest, nonetheless his voice as he replied was calm. “I trust you all, and I am sure that had anything been passed you would have noticed it. Pray continue to watch your man, each of you, and come at once to tell me should anything out of the ordinary occur. I would also have you talk to the maid, valet, or others about the men who might be in a position to know, and ask them this question.”

  With that he recited it and his men and I regarded him doubtfu
lly. It seemed an odd thing to wish to know, however there was no accounting for the actions Holmes would ask for at times.

  I waited until the men had gone then I spoke. “Holmes, it is too bad. I know you have seen some clue, will you not share it?”

  “Why not, my dear Watson? Here,” and he held out to me the lists made of assorted rubbish collected from the wastepaper baskets of the three under suspicion. I read them and was none the wiser. I could see no clue, nothing save—ah! I lifted a crumpled tailor’s bill from the envelope and exclaimed.

  “I have it, Holmes! It must be Belden, despite Jethro’s certainty that he passed nothing. The man is married with two small children and in need of money. Look at what he is being asked to pay for his wife’s clothing, and see here the date, the bill is long overdue. The man is in dire need of money and has chosen this way to obtain it. I am right, am I not?”

  “It is true the bill is both large and overdue, that I cannot deny.”

  “Ah,” my cry was triumphant. “Then how shall you bring this miscreant to book?”

  Holmes’ look was sober. “I fear that may not be quite so easy, I am certain the man is an accomplished spy; this selling of scandal is a sideline.”

  I gasped. “Holmes, you mean that Belden is there to learn what decisions are to be made on the foreign negotiations?”

  “I fear our spy may have that in mind. But before that I have made arrangements with Holder to release a fourth scandal so we may again follow the three under suspicion.”

  “He must be stopped,” I said resolutely. “Tell me what I may do to assist?”

  “I do have a task for you, Watson, I plan to walk the bank’s corridors tonight and study the working background of our spy. It is, however, also essential that I stop all possible rat holes. It is possible that the information is being sent by mail. None of the three men have easy access to a telephone, so that if they are communicating what they learn, then it is most likely to be by letter. I have made arrangements with Lestrade that any letters sent by the men or their families shall be intercepted before they arrive at their destinations. Once these letters are collected, I want you to bring them to me that I may examine them.”