Repeat Business

by Lyn McConchie

  “With that purchase came several acres of land which my wife is pleasing herself by turning into gardens; however, since we had this land it seemed to me good that we should use a portion of it in the way land is intended to be used. In short, we have an orchard, a vegetable garden, stables with several loose-boxes, two small adjacent rooms for hay, hard feed, and tack, and a well-built hen house with a large run which together house over twenty hens.

  “In this season most of the hens are laying and we enjoy all the benefits of fresh eggs which Lucy loves to gather each day while feeding the hens. A pony has added to this rural aspect for Lucy, who has become a good and valiant little rider. As well, there are riding horses for my wife and me, and a sedate pony that, together with a small trap, provides transport to Norbury when required.

  “Since the town is grown to within a mile of us, my servants do not live in, but allow us the greater privacy and freedom by walking to work each day from their own homes, which are close by. Mine is a small establishment: we have a cook, a maid for my wife, a gardener, and a stable boy. The cook has a key to the house, and the men have keys to the outbuildings so they may care for the animals and use the various items stored within the barns and sheds without troubling us to be constantly locking and unlocking doors. I may say that I have found none of our staff to be anything but diligent and honest.

  “As I have told you, I adopted my wife’s daughter, Lucy, and she is now Lucy Munro. It caused some sensation amongst my own friends and business acquaintances, but that gossip died down after a while. However, it had one benefit which at the time none of us had foreseen. I am now, as I was when you first met me, a hop merchant in a good way of business. Recently I have found that my adoption of Lucy has brought others of similar race to my door, to buy from me in preference to some of the others in my line of business whom they see as often prejudiced against them.”

  “I can see how that could occur,” I said thoughtfully. “It is true that many people are foolish in this respect.”

  “Exactly so, sir. Last month a nobleman came to me, a man who is head of one of the oldest families in his country. They are impoverished, but he is gradually rebuilding their fortune by his ability as a merchant. I think he feels it very much that he must stoop to trade, and for that reason he normally employs go-betweens and managers. In this matter, however, he could not do so, since he was asking for a large sum on credit. Not in money, you understand, but in goods. I agreed, but asked for some pledge as security.”

  Here he took a breath that seemed to me more of awe than want of air. “Gentlemen, he gave me the token I requested, and it was such a pledge as I have never seen. It was a great emerald, a little flawed, it is true, but the size of a small hen’s egg and of a very considerable value. Certainly it more than covered the value of the goods I advanced him, and he swore he would redeem it from me within the month. No…,” he held up one hand on seeing me about to speak.

  “You must not imagine me a fool and that this is some tale of how the jewel is a fraud. No, the jewel is proven genuine, for I had a jeweler friend of mine appraise it quietly before I agreed to accept it as its owner’s pledge. My friend assured me very strongly that the emerald is worth almost twice the value of the goods I advanced, and moreover that the nobleman’s story that it had been an heirloom in his house for centuries is most probably true.

  “The gem is of an ancient cut and the setting—for it can be worn as a pendant or tie pin (most likely the original use for a man was not as a tie pin but as a hat or turban decoration, my friend said)—and it is extremely old and very beautiful. He would put it around five or six centuries, since that jewel was wrenched from the earth to be carved and set in precious metal.”

  I brought him a glass of wine and asked, “How is it then that if the family is impoverished, they have not sold the jewel?”

  “There is both a blessing and a curse upon it. The owner told me that the first of his family to be ennobled received it from his ruler as a reward for a great service. He went into no details as to the service or who placed the blessing and curse upon the jewel, but he swears that the account of how his family came by the jewel is true.

  “The edict runs that so long as the jewel remains in the possession of the family, their fortunes may rise or fall, but the family itself will never die out. There will always remain one of the blood and name to rise again. But if the jewel is ever lost to their line, then will they fall, never to rise again, and their name and blood shall be utterly lost from this earth.”

  “A most interesting story, and typical of a number I have heard.” I said. “Do you think the owner believes it to be true?”

  “Oh, yes. I am in no doubt of that. He needed to find a pledge for our transaction and had no other item that would do, but if you could have heard his adjuring me to do all in my power to keep the gem safe, you would not doubt his belief. My problem is that the jewel was in my possession, it was entrusted to me, and it is now lost, and—or so it appears—by Lucy’s carelessness at best, or at the worst, by her theft and subsequent lies.” Here his fingers twined and writhed.

  “My wife swears the child is telling the truth and I wish to believe them both, but if the gem is lost, my honor and my good reputation in business are gone. I cannot return the pledge when it is demanded of me—as it will be in a bare week. Nor can I see, if the child’s story is true, how it can have vanished.”

  Sherlock nodded. “In that case, sir, let you be calm, and tell us how the emerald came to disappear.”

  Mr. Grant Munro smiled bitterly. “Alas, I am not the only one who has troubles within the family. My jeweler friend went home and spoke a little too freely to his wife of the mission for which I had summoned him. His son, overhearing, passed on this information as casual gossip to a friend whose other acquaintance, it seems, was not an honest man. The police later traced this, you understand. The acquaintance, finding that a merchant in his own town was to be briefly possessed of a jewel of huge value, gathered together some of his fellow criminals and they determined to steal the emerald from me.

  “I was most fortunate in one way. Normally I lock, but do not bar, my doors since our cook and maid arrive each morning at five and let themselves in. However, with this jewel in my possession I had both locked and barred all of the outer doors from the time it came into my hands, and bade them knock for admission each morning. Since the house was originally very isolated—although the town now has grown much nearer to it—all of the windows were well barred when I purchased the place. The bars are sunk deep into the stone of the sills, so that I believed the house to be almost impregnable.

  “Some five days after I received the jewel as pledge, I had one of my rare wakeful nights where I could not seem to fall deeply asleep but merely dozed. It was around three in the morning when I was fully awakened by the sounds of someone attempting to force open the front door. I wakened my wife and together we crept to the upper window above the door to peer down.

  “Below us in the moonlight we could see a number of dark figures prowling about the house. I estimated there to be either six or seven, and I feared that if they were utterly determined on forcing an entrance they would sooner or later succeed. I guessed that their intent was to steal the jewel and I wished to prevent this. But also I feared for the lives of my wife and child should such desperate men gain that entrance. It would not be the first time men of such violence have killed to shut the mouths of their unfortunate victims. At length, finding that the doors and windows were all barred, they gathered together about the back door, seeming to think it would be this entrance that would be easier to force.

  “In all this time we had not shown any light, and, as we had gone to bed quite early, I believed those who attempted entrance could not be sure we were at home. As we listened to their talk, they spoke of firing the front of the house if they could not break in by other means, and I feared for the lives of my wife and child.

  “I therefore waited until the would-b
e intruders were congregated at that door, and my wife and I went to the child’s room to wake her and give instructions. Lucy was able to crawl between the bars on an upper window. We let her down to the ground on a rope and in her flight she was able to escape the notice of those who sought to break in upon us. I was thus assured that even should the men break in, the child would survive, and furthermore, she might yet bring help for us in time to prevent harm to my wife.

  “I had given the emerald into her possession and she had been instructed that before she rode for aid, she was to secrete it in some place the intruders were unlikely to discover, but which she could easily recall once she was returned with the police. This she swears she did. To be brief then, she returned with help just as the men were on the point of entering the house, having completely broken down the back door using axes and forced the bar from its socket. All the intruders were captured, or so it is claimed, and it was from them that the police traced the path of the information about the jewel.

  “Lucy was exhausted by her brave ride so, as soon as the intruders were removed, my wife put the child to bed and I went alone with the police to make all the charges and statements required. That took many hours and it was noon before I returned. All that time, please let it be understood I had no apprehension for the jewel. I was certain it was in some safe place and could be easily retrieved.”

  “I assume this was not so, and that that is the reason for your visit,” I said.

  Mr. Grant Munro bowed his head. “You are right. Upon my return I asked Lucy where she had hidden the jewel. She laughed very heartily and said that her hiding place had been superb, that no bad man would ever have guessed where the emerald might be. She then led us to the hen house, opened the small cover above the nest boxes and moved aside a setting hen. There she said, she had placed the emerald under the hen and completely safely—for what criminal would ever think to look under a hen?”

  “The jewel was gone,” said Holmes with certainty.

  “It was. And now I have a choice. Do I believe that some criminal—cunning beyond belief—guessed the hiding place, or that one of them was watching when my girl fled and saw what she did? Or, and this I wish most earnestly not to believe, could it be that Lucy herself, seeing the beauty of the gem and wanting it for herself, has lied and has it secreted elsewhere? Rather would I know it as stolen than believe her to be a liar and a thief, nor have I given any indication of that fear to Lucy or my wife.”

  “Why is it that you think she may have done this thing?” I asked.

  “She loves all brightly-colored stones, heartily disdaining diamonds, pearls, or moonstones and such paler forms of gem. The brighter the stone, the more it attracts her, and while we had the emerald she asked very often to be permitted to see and hold it. Something I allowed since it pleased her, although now I fear I may have been the author of my own misfortune.”

  “So you think her to have been so seduced by the emerald that she may have seized the opportunity to have it for her own, without understanding the trouble which might come to you and your wife from that deed?” Holmes said thoughtfully. “How did the child act when the jewel was found to be missing from what, I must say, was a clever hiding place?”

  “She seemed dumbfounded and cried out.”

  “And her astonishment appeared genuine to you?”

  “It did, sir, but I cannot think of other explanations beside those I have stated, and the possibility that it is Lucy who has the stone is deeply distressing, which is why I have come to you. If Lucy is not the thief, then who is? The police are certain that they captured all those involved and all were thoroughly searched at that time. However, it could be that one of them followed the child that night, found the jewel, and secreted it in another hiding place—but by reason of imprisonment cannot return to move it from where it was hid. If you can find the jewel and clear my daughter’s name in my own eyes, Mr. Holmes, I am ready to pay any sum you ask.”

  “Let us be clear about this, sir. What is my primary task, to clear the child or to find the jewel?”

  He hesitated briefly, but then when he spoke his voice was decided. “Clear my daughter, Mr. Holmes. If the jewel is gone through no fault of my family, I can repay the value of it, though it will leave us in straitened circumstances for some years. But what use is money if the child languishes under suspicions I may not in decency voice, but may not put aside?”

  Holmes nodded. “There is this also, if the child is cleared, then the jewel may still be recovered, for we know those most likely to have taken it. If the police are right and all were captured, then they will have no chance to return for many years, while we will have as much time as needed to find the jewel’s hiding place.”

  “Then you and Doctor Watson will assist me?”

  “Indeed, yes. We will come down in the morning—if that is suitable for you too, Watson?” he added, looking at me. I nodded my agreement and Holmes reached for a timetable and studied it carefully. “There is a train which leaves at ten. Will you meet us at the station on our arrival, Mr. Munro?”

  “I shall.”

  “Then we shall see you tomorrow morning.”

  That we did, for we had no sooner alighted from the train than our client was running along the platform to meet us. “I have some further news,” he informed us in a low breathless voice. “The police have most stringently questioned each of the men they seized, and all have sworn that not one of their fellows was ever out of their sight. The police hinted that some smaller valuable was missing, and not even then could they gain any admission that one of their number could have been responsible.”

  Holmes considered that. “Yes, despite the saying, there is very little honor among thieves if one stands to profit above his fellows. If any of them thought another to have gained what he did not, he would speak, since in that way he would be both reducing his own sentence, and also depriving his companion of an item of which the other clearly intended to cheat the speaker and his accomplices. No, I think we must assume that your attackers know nothing and have never laid hands on the jewel.”

  Our client’s face fell into lines of misery. “Then you believe it must be Lucy who is the culprit.”

  “I never hypothesize ahead of the facts and my own investigations.”

  I clapped Munro on the shoulder. “Cheer up, man. All may yet be well, and I do not believe the child is to blame.”

  For which I received a grateful look from our client and a somewhat cynical one from my old friend, who nevertheless said nothing to dispel Mr. Munro’s more cheerful attitude.

  We arrived at the Munro house and I was much impressed at my first sight of the place. Originally it had of a surety been the farmhouse our client had claimed it to be, but not the ordinary country variety. I thought it to have first been a fortified manor house and although what would have been the outer fortifications about it were now gone, still the size and proportions of the building betrayed its origins. I believed that the wings had long since been pulled down, but the body of the building remained, set solidly in the earth.

  It was two-storied and of native stone, with iron-barred windows, and the outbuildings were so set about it that in their time they could have been used as additional fortifications to stand off attacks had the inhabitants sufficient warning and enough fighters to man the defenses. I could see how in the night it would have been difficult for the intruders to discern a small child who knew every inch of the land and buildings and who was, moreover, camouflaged by nature. Holmes was wasting no time as he swiftly scanned the terrain.

  “Please bring Lucy out here. I would have her enact her every movement just as she acted on the night. It is by that means I may gain some insight into the possibilities.”

  Mrs. Effie Munro came with the child. She was unchanged, save that the look of strain and anxiety was all but gone from her face. I thought then that she had no idea of her husband’s darker suspicions concerning the disappearance of the jewel, but would still be a li
ttle anxious about their circumstances were it not found.

  Holmes stood waiting as her mother drew the girl towards him. “Show Mr. Holmes everything you did, and answer any question he asks you, do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mother.” The small dark face turned to look at my friend, then the child’s lips parted in a huge joyous smile. “I’ll show you what I did.” Her hands were almost fluid as she used them to augment her words.

  “Look up there, that’s the window of my room; mother and father let me down from there on a rope once I wriggled through the bars. Then I ran this way.” she pointed. “It was night so I couldn’t see the men, but I could hear them beating upon the back door. I was very frightened. I ran there.…” Again the finger indicated. “I went very quietly behind the bushes to the hen house. I opened the nest lid and tucked the jewel under Saffy. I call her that because she is a yellow color like saffron. She is brooding eggs and she knew me so she didn’t leave the nest or squawk or flap, and the men did not know I was here.”

  Holmes was watching the ground as she moved. Now he glanced up at Mr. Grant Munro. “The ground is slightly soft, was it this way on the night you were attacked?”

  “It was, this spring has been damp and the ground is not yet fully dried out as it will be in another month or two—and besides, there were showers on and off here for all of that previous day.”

  “But there has been some wind?”

  “There was a strong wind for several hours late the following afternoon.”

  Holmes grunted thoughtfully, turning to look at Effie Munro, “Can you please bring a couple of feather dusters for me.” He waited to see her depart on that errand then turned back to the child. “Now, Lucy, what did you do as soon as you tucked the jewel under the hen?”

  “I shut the lid down again upon the nests, then I ran very quietly to the stable. My pony is there,” she spun on her heel and ran as she had said while we followed. At the loose box where her pony waited, she mimed how she had halted, listening fearfully towards the direction of the house before hastily bridling the sturdy little animal and leading him forth from the stable.