The Secret Documents of Sherlock Holmes

by June Thomson

  ‘What loss, Holmes?’ I asked, a little puzzled by his remark.

  ‘I will have to confess defeat to Sir Hector and waive the fee I might have charged him while you, my dear fellow, will have to forgo the pleasure of publishing an account of the case.’*

  * Dr John H. Watson, who had met Miss Mary Morstan during the ‘Sign of Four’ case in September 1888, married her sometime before March 1889, the date of the inquiry into the scandal in Bohemia. Not long before his marriage, Dr Watson bought a medical practice in Paddington. Dr John F. Watson.

  † Mr Sherlock Holmes evidently continued to be interested in coal-tar derivatives because, during the Great Hiatus, he carried out research into the same field of chemistry at a laboratory in Montpellier in France. Vide: ‘The Adventure of the Empty House’. Dr John F. Watson.

  * T. Eastgate was a manufacturer of fashionable ladies’ and gentlemen’s boots and shoes with retail premises in Buckingham Palace Road and Brompton Road. The firm was by appointment to His Majesty, the King of the Belgians. Dr John F. Watson.

  * In ‘The Problem of Thor Bridge,’ Mr Sherlock Holmes remarks: ‘My professional charges are upon a fixed scale. I do not vary them, save when I remit them altogether.’ Dr John F. Watson.

  * Jackson, also a doctor, was a next-door neighbour of Dr John H. Watson’s when he was living in Paddington. Vide: ‘The Adventure of the Crooked Man’ and ‘The Adventure of the Stockbroker’s Clerk’. Dr John F. Watson.

  * In ‘The Adventure of the Engineer’s Thumb,’ Dr John H. Watson remarks that his practice was ‘no very great distance from Paddington station’. Dr John F. Watson.

  † There are several references to Mr Sherlock Holmes’ encyclopaedia of reference which he had compiled himself and which contained useful information on a variety of subjects. Vide, among others: ‘A Scandal in Bohemia’ and ‘The Adventure of the Priory School’. Dr John F. Watson.

  * Later in his career, Mr Sherlock Holmes was to make use of Langdale Pike, a ‘human book of reference upon all matters of social scandal,’ for a similar purpose. Vide: ‘The Adventure of the Three Gables’. Dr John F. Watson.

  * Kate Whitney, wife of Isa Whitney, one of Dr John H. Watson’s patients, was ‘an old friend and school companion’ of Dr Watson’s wife, Mary. It was on Mrs Whitney’s pleading that Dr Watson went to the Bar of Gold, an opium den in Upper Swandham Lane, to find her husband, an opium addict, and became involved in the disappearance of Mr Neville St Clair. Vide: ‘The Adventure of the Man with the Twisted Lip’. Dr John F. Watson.

  * Dr John H. Watson makes a passing reference to the case in ‘The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire’ in which Vittoria, the circus belle, is listed under the letter V in Mr Sherlock Holmes’ volume of reference. Dr John F. Watson.

  THE CASE OF THE BOULEVARD ASSASSIN

  I

  As I see from my three massive volumes of notes for the year 1894, the months following Holmes’ miraculous escape from death at the hands of his arch enemy, Professor Moriarty, were a particularly busy time for my old friend.* For some of those adventures, such as the cases concerning Mr Jonas Oldacre, the Norwood builder, and Professor Coram of Yoxley Old Place, I have written and published complete accounts.† For various reasons, others have remained unrecorded. Among these is one particular inquiry which, because of its sensitive political nature, cannot as yet be set before the public although I remain hopeful that, at some later date, I shall be allowed to publish this account of it.

  It was, I recall, one afternoon in late October when a special messenger arrived with an urgent letter from Mycroft Holmes, summoning us to meet him without delay at the Diogenes Club.‡ Should this narrative ever appear in print, those readers who are already familiar with my other published adventures will not need reminding that Mycroft Holmes held a unique position in the government. Although ostensibly employed as an auditor, he was, in fact, a highly regarded ministerial adviser whose specialised knowledge on a variety of subjects had made him so influential in deciding matters of national policy that, as Holmes once pointed out, there were times when he was the British government.

  ‘Your brother does not explain what this meeting is about?’ I inquired, full of curiosity, for Mycroft Holmes had introduced my old friend to several of his most interesting cases.*

  ‘No, not a word, which makes me suspect that it is a matter of some importance,’ Holmes replied. ‘But rather than waste time speculating, Watson, let us find out the facts from the fountainhead itself.’

  We took a cab to the Diogenes Club in Pall Mall where we found Mycroft Holmes already comfortably installed in the Strangers’ Room, the only part of the premises where conversation was permitted. As we entered, he waved a plump, languid hand towards two armchairs which were drawn up facing him.

  ‘You will forgive me for not rising,’ said he. ‘I have had the most exhausting day.’

  I have remarked before on the physical differences between the two brothers, a dissimilarity which always struck me whenever I saw the two of them together. Holmes’ thin, sparse frame and energetic manner were in direct contrast to Mycroft’s portly figure and air of massive indolence. It was only in the keenness of his glance that one was made aware of the intellectual power contained in that large head and unwieldy frame.

  ‘You are, of course, familiar with the name Sante Caserio,’ he began, taking a pinch of snuff from a tortoiseshell box.

  ‘The Italian anarchist who assassinated the French President a few months ago?’ Holmes inquired, sitting forward in his chair and fixing his brother with a look of eager attention.*

  ‘Exactly so,’ Mycroft Holmes replied. ‘The man was arrested and is at present being held in custody awaiting execution. It is not therefore Caserio who concerns us here. Rather, it is one of his colleagues, Alphonse Huret, better known under the pseudonym of the Boulevard Assassin, whom the French authorities are anxious to track down. That name, too, should be familiar to you.’

  ‘Indeed it is!’ Holmes exclaimed. ‘I have been following the accounts of his exploits in the newspapers for the past few months. He has been blamed, has he not, for the death of Monsieur Boncour of the Justice Department, as well as attempts on the lives of two other important members of the French government?’

  ‘Which is why I have sent for you, dear boy. In a week’s time, Monsieur Claude Auriel, the Minister of Overseas Affairs, is due to arrive in London, ostensibly on a private visit to the Earl of Evesham, a relation of his by marriage, his daughter having married the Earl’s youngest son. However, while he is here, Monsieur Auriel will, in fact, be engaged in secret talks with officials from our own Foreign Office in an attempt to settle some of the differences between our two countries.* From information received through a government agent inside the anarchist movement, the French authorities believe that, while he is in London, an attempt will be made on Monsieur Auriel’s life by Alphonse Huret who, now that Caserio has been arrested, is their chief assassin.

  ‘I have therefore been specifically asked by a certain highly placed official in the French government to request your help in this matter. Since your success over that important affair three years ago, it is felt that you are the only person they can trust to bring about Huret’s arrest,† For captured he must be before more members of the French government are assassinated. And that is not all, Sherlock. From our point of view, the continued presence of the Boulevard Assassin poses a threat to our own national stability. If Huret continues with his murderous career, it could well encourage other anarchists to turn their attention to the British government with heaven knows what consequences. Now, my dear Sherlock, are you prepared to take the case?’

  ‘Of course,’ Holmes replied without the least hesitation.

  ‘I thought that would be your answer. If you succeed, as indeed you must, it will be another fine feather in your cap.’

  ‘I am more interested in facts than feathers,’ Holmes replied.

  ‘Then let us get down to them. Knowing your habit
of keeping cuttings of any interesting items of news in the daily papers, I assume you have at least a partial record of Huret’s past career to which I can add further information passed on to me by my colleagues in the French Ministry of the Interior. The first attempt was made on Monsieur Delmar, head of the Secretariat of Cultural Affairs, when he was walking down Boulevard Haussmann. A shot was fired from a passing fiacre which fortunately missed its target. Monsieur Boncour of the Justice Department was not so lucky. At the beginning of September, he was killed by a bullet which was also fired from a moving vehicle, this time a hearse, which approached slowly down Boulevard St-Germain towards the terrace of the Café des Fleurs where Monsieur Boncour was enjoying a glass of cognac. Once the deed was done, the hearse gathered speed and disappeared amongst the traffic.

  ‘The third attempt was made only a fortnight ago on the life of Monsieur Poujade, Chief Secretary to the Minister of Finance. He was shot as he left his apartment in Boulevard des Italians. Again a vehicle was used, in this particular instance a small delivery van. Monsieur Poujade was struck in the shoulder and is still in hospital receiving treatment for the wound.

  ‘All the vehicles were later found abandoned. They had been stolen and in two cases their rightful owners garrotted, presumably because they had seen the thieves and could identify them. However, other witnesses were able to give descriptions of the man who fired the gun. As these were not widely published in the English newspapers, you may not be acquainted with them. In the first attempt, he was described as a pale-faced, red-bearded man. In the second and fatal attack, he was wearing eyeglasses and a brown goatee; in the third, black hair and dark, bushy whiskers. I am sure you can draw your own conclusions from these details.’

  ‘That Alphonse Huret is in the habit of wearing different disguises and appears to have a predilection for beards, suggesting he may have some distinguishing feature about the lower part of his face, perhaps a scar or some other easily recognisable mark,’ Holmes replied. ‘It therefore follows that we cannot be certain either of his exact appearance or of what disguise he may adopt for his next assassination attempt. As none of these descriptions refers to his height or build, I assume no one remarked on them.’

  ‘In all three cases, Huret was seated inside the vehicle so that only his face was visible.’

  ‘What of his accomplice, the driver of these various vehicles?’ Holmes inquired. ‘I assume Huret had one for he could hardly have managed the horses and at the same time aimed and fired his revolver. Have you no descriptions of him?’

  ‘Very few, Sherlock, for he was always careful to keep his face averted and to wear a cap pulled well down over his face. And who takes notice of a cabby or a van driver? It was the man flourishing the gun who caught the attention of the bystanders. Only two witnesses could give any details about the driver’s appearance and they merely stated that he was broad-shouldered and of a heavy build. I know it is little enough to go on and the task of tracking down Huret and his accomplice will be well nigh impossible.’

  ‘Not impossible,’ Holmes corrected him. ‘Only exceedingly difficult. Looking for them among London’s huge population will be like searching for two particular grains of sand on a seashore. But remember the old saying, Mycroft. If the mountain will not come to Mahomet …’

  Although I failed to grasp the significance of the adage to this particular situation, Mycroft Holmes appeared to understand it at once. Smiling broadly, he completed the quotation.

  ‘Then Mahomet must go to the mountain. How do you propose arranging such a meeting, my dear Sherlock?’

  ‘By using a lure which Huret and his accomplice will find irresistible. In short, the victim himself. Or rather his double. What does Monsieur Auriel look like?’

  ‘He is a tall, portly, grey-haired gentleman who wears gold pince-nez.’

  ‘About my height, would you say?’ Holmes asked with a negligent air.

  Mycroft looked at him sharply.

  ‘If your intention is to disguise yourself as Monsieur Auriel, then I am afraid there will be no opportunity for you to play the part. Monsieur Auriel will be staying in London for only a week. Because of the threat to his life posed by Huret, the authorities here and in France have strongly advised him not to appear in public. It has even been arranged for an official to visit him at the Earl of Evesham’s residence in Park Lane rather than expect him to attend meetings at the Foreign Office. The risks of his being assassinated if he steps out of doors will be too great.’

  ‘Then an opportunity must be created,’ Holmes said coolly. With apparent inconsequentiality, he added, ‘I believe the French soprano Céline Lefranc is currently appearing at Covent Garden opera house in Aida.’*

  ‘Yes, that indeed is so.’

  ‘Then what would be more natural than for Monsieur Auriel to attend a performance? Shall we say on the Wednesday evening following his arrival in London? I am sure the newspapers would be interested in printing a front-page report advertising this fact. There is the lure, Mycroft. The bait shall be myself disguised as Monsieur Auriel.’

  ‘No! No! I cannot allow it!’ Mycroft Holmes protested, throwing up his hands in horror. ‘It is far too dangerous, dear boy. Huret is a professional assassin. As soon as you appear in public, he could strike at any time – outside the theatre or, heaven forbid, inside the auditorium itself. Besides, as you yourself have pointed out, we have no real idea of what Huret looks like. He could masquerade as anyone – a passer-by in the street, a member of the audience, an innocent-seeming newspaper seller. The choice is endless. The police would not be able to guarantee you any protection at all.’

  ‘You have forgotten one important factor which we know about the Boulevard Assassin and that is his modus operandi,’ Holmes replied. ‘All his attacks have followed a similar pattern. Without exception, he fires at his victim from a moving vehicle. Of course, such a method offers him the advantage of a quick escape. But, like his partiality for beards, there could be another reason. It is possible that he has some handicap or other – a club foot, say – which causes him to limp and which not only makes him instantly recognisable but also impedes his movements. Whatever the reason, I believe Huret will keep to his usual method, more so in this instance for he will not be operating in Paris but in London with which, I assume, he is less familiar.

  ‘Allowing such an hypothesis is correct, we can then anticipate what form his actions will take. Having been alerted by the newspapers to Monsieur Auriel’s visit to the opera, Huret will arrange with his accomplice to drive past Covent Garden opera house at the same time as Monsieur Auriel alights from his carriage outside the theatre. He will then aim his gun through the open window of whatever vehicle he and his accomplice are using on that particular evening. Their proposed victim, in this case myself, will present an easy target as I cross the pavement towards the entrance. Once the shot is fired, the driver will whip up the horses and they will escape into the evening traffic. After abandoning the vehicle, they will then make their way on foot to whatever secret hideaway they are using.

  ‘Alternatively, Huret may choose to strike after the performance is over although I think this is unlikely. Too many people will be leaving the theatre at the same time, making it much more difficult to pick out one individual from among the crowd.

  ‘As for my own plans, I suggest I am introduced to Monsieur Auriel well before the proposed visit to the opera so that I may study the gentleman’s appearance at close quarters, including any idiosyncrasies of gait or general bearing. Huret may have kept watch on his intended victim and become familiar with his physical characteristics. I leave it to you, Mycroft, to inform the Earl of Evesham and Monsieur Auriel of my intentions. By the way, I assume the police have been made aware of the situation?’

  ‘Of course, Sherlock. I have personally warned Scotland Yard of Huret’s imminent arrival and Inspector MacDonald has been assigned to the case.’

  ‘MacDonald? An excellent choice! I have worked with him before and
found him most intelligent and co-operative.* As soon as we return to Baker Street, I shall send him a telegram asking him to call on me this evening to discuss the arrangements. Well, Mycroft,’ Holmes concluded, springing to his feet, ‘if there is nothing more you can tell me about the Boulevard Assassin, then Watson and I will take our leave.’

  Mycroft Holmes struggled up from his own chair and extended a broad hand to each of us in turn.

  ‘I see there is no point in trying to persuade you against the plan,’ he remarked to Holmes.

  ‘None whatsoever,’ my old friend replied cheerfully.

  ‘Then perhaps you, Dr Watson, may succeed where I have failed,’ Mycroft said, turning to me and fixing me with his steel-grey eyes, a most sombre expression on his plump features. ‘I beg you to try convincing him that his idea is a madness.’

  ‘Your brother is right, you know, Holmes,’ I said a little later when we were in a cab on our way back to Baker Street. ‘The risk is enormous.’

  ‘But the challenge is even greater,’ he replied. ‘Besides, my dear fellow, danger adds a little zest to life. Without it, we may as well all be amoebae stagnating at the bottom of a muddy pool. Pray do not over-concern yourself about my safety. I am not so foolish as to thrust my head into the lion’s mouth without first taking a few precautions.’

  ‘But what precautions can you take, Holmes? There are none that I can think of. As soon as you walk across the pavement towards the opera house, you will inevitably expose yourself to an assassin’s bullet. You cannot protect yourself against that.’

  ‘Then your memory is exceedingly short, Watson, for you appear to have forgotten a certain Herr Dowe.’*