by Val Andrews
‘I did as he bade me and applied the nose test, finding that his words were true. The pipes were not only in their wrong boxes but were falsely marked, as applying each to my nose proved. Need I say that I enquired as to from whence the prepared pipes were obtained and was told that they came from one of a number of outworkers, whose supplies had always proved satisfactory in the past. I obtained his address and I may well interview him, yet I was, and am, more interested in those intermediate stages which the stock passes through betwixt maker and retail counter. In the case of the conjuring department the path was a winding one. From past experience and present need Goldston has a file of people who specialise in the manufacture of certain conjuring accessories and apparatus. For example, he has a carpenter with a long experience of making various trick boxes. Another worker makes trick metal frames and tripod tables. He has a specialist in the adulteration of playing cards and of course the man who supplies the chemical mysteries.’
I interrupted. ‘So these people sell the goods to Forrage’s?’
Holmes smiled enigmatically. ‘It is not quite so simple, Watson; the makers sell the goods in the first place to a sort of magical wholesale firm in Liverpool, Devo Enterprises.’
‘Then Devo Enterprises sell the goods to Forrage’s?’
‘Be patient, Watson. Devo sells the goods to a London wholesaler of magical goods, Leah Laurie Ltd. In turn they are purchased by Blandford Street Magic who add such niceties as printed instructions before selling them to Forrage’s. The printing is supplied by Aladdin Impress Ltd and all of the firms and companies that I have mentioned have something in common.’
‘That they deal in conjuring goods?’
‘More. That Will Goldston is a director of each save Leah Laurie Ltd, which is owned by Mrs Goldston, whose professional name is Leah Laurie!’
‘Is all this legal, Holmes?’
‘Perfectly, Watson.’
‘Does Forrage know of it?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘Shall you tell him?’
‘Oh, I think not, Watson, I can use his co-operation and his diplomacy concerning my enquiries.’
I grunted. ‘Smacks of blackmail.’
‘Smacks more of mutual assistance, Watson.’
I considered. ‘Well, you have certainly established that Goldston is a bit sharp to say the least. Does he have no ideas concerning the threats and this one that was actually carried out in his own department?’
‘Let me just say that he has been extremely helpful and has given me much food for thought.’
‘I suppose you will keep a sharp eye on developments in the conjuring department?’
‘Not especially. Goldston will do that, and if the pattern is followed, another department will receive the attention of our enemy next.’
On the following day we consulted A.W. Forrage again and told him something of our adventures. He knew already of the events in the conjuring department of course, but we could tell that Goldston had given him a rather mild version of them. The conjuring manager was a diplomat, loyal to his promises, but also anxious concerning a managerial position which enabled him to earn a good wage and commission on goods that he sold, having already gained a profit of some kind on them at several other stages of their existence.
Forrage told us that no fresh threats had been received by himself but was pessimistic concerning the future. ‘Mr Holmes, over the past couple of days you have observed several dramatic events take place, events of which you had been warned as I had. You have expounded shrewdly upon these events, yet you seem helpless to prevent such things happening. What exactly is your role if you cannot stop these dreadful things?’
I felt his remarks to be unfair to my colleague and said, ‘Oh, come, sir, despite the annoying nature of these events, no serious damage has been done to person or property.’
He retorted, ‘Quite so, Dr Watson, but for how long can I keep such happenings out of the newspapers, and who is to say that they will not take a more serious turn? The fellow, whoever he is, may be lulled into a feeling of security which will embolden him; especially if he learns that he has fooled even the great Sherlock Holmes.’
My friend was never a man to be browbeaten and he spoke warmly but politely to the famous store magnate. ‘My dear Forrage, to round on me thus is your privilege, but I have learned during some twenty years of crime detection that one gets the best from a hireling by encouragement rather than from words of chastisement. I expect to tie up this matter within a matter of days. However, you are free to dispense with my services if you wish. In arguing with me you are wasting my time, and also your own. I have certain investigations which I intend to make; I will inform you concerning these tomorrow.’
Sherlock Holmes took a polite but icy farewell of Forrage, and we left the splendid office for . . . I knew not where.
As we made our way to the main front entrance to the building, Holmes gave me some idea of his immediate plans. ‘We will follow up on your escapade of yesterday, Watson. Your disguise and clandestine activities did no good so let us see what will happen if we tackle the flower woman quite openly.’
We crossed High Holborn and made for the flower stall but found an elderly man tending it. He was a sharp-looking customer dressed in a jacket that was checked like a draughts board. His billycock was worn at an angle and I considered that despite his age he could have been an unwelcome man to bump into on a dark night. Once he realised that we were not customers, his expression of cherubic innocence changed to one of irritation. He said, ‘I don’t know where the old girl has gone. I heard she was ill and I at once meant to offer to open her stall lest she lose her pitch. But there was nobody at her place, so I’m just keeping the stall warm for her.’
I ventured, ‘Perhaps she has been taken to hospital?’
He answered, ‘Naah, I’d have heard!’
Holmes handed the man a half sovereign and his whole attitude changed.
‘Well now, gents, let me see . . . she could be staying with her sister at the buildings in Clerkenwell Road. Other than that I can’t think where she could be. But I’ll give you the address and if you manage to get hold of her you can tell her that Joe is looking after her gaff. Mind you, she’ll need to get back soon as I’m running out of flowers.’
Holmes had obtained from Joe not only the flower lady’s sister’s address, but also that at which he knew her normally to reside. This was in a mean street off Hatton Garden, in sharp contrast with the business thoroughfare which housed the diamond merchants of the largest city in the world. It was an attic apartment that we made for, to find a rat-infested staircase and no answer to our knock upon the dilapidated front door. Sherlock Holmes lifted the letterbox flap with his cane and sank to his knees to peer through it. He appeared surprised at what he saw.
‘A mean street and a less than modest attic apartment from the outside. Yet within it is surprisingly well furnished; at least as far as the entrance area is concerned.’
In my turn I glanced through the flap and started at the sight of surprisingly well made and expensive-looking hallstand and chairs. A rug upon the floor appeared to be also of good quality. However, there is often a simple enough explanation for such things and I remarked, ‘Perhaps the flower business is more profitable than might be supposed. If so, the lady certainly does not spend her money on a high rental and might well be able to indulge a desire for good furnishings.’
Holmes grunted. ‘You may be right, Watson, that may explain it, and we had better visit her sister who may enlighten us more.’
Chapter Four - The Basement of Wonder
Little was gained from our visit to the apartment in the Clerkenwell Road where we did indeed find the flower lady’s sister. She was a jolly woman, who told us, ‘Nothing mysterious. Nelly has gone for a few days’ holiday to Yarmouth where we have a cousin. Tell old Joe that I’ll be round in the morning to see about the stall. I’m not surprised that he sent someone else, he and I don’t get on too well
, but I’m surprised that he managed to get a couple of swells like you to run his errands!’
Holmes did some quick thinking and said, ‘We are from the Holborn Town Hall, we have been asked to inspect your sister’s permit to sell flowers opposite Forrage’s.’
She took a frame down from the wall which housed such a document. ‘There it is. Nelly keeps it here because her place is none too safe. I’ve asked her to move in here with Tom and me, but she is that independent she is. But at least I’ve got her to accept a few bits and pieces from this flat that I was going to sling out. Suppose you are going to ask me how I managed to furnish this place so nice? Well, Tom has a good job and when mum died she left me some money, not a fortune but enough to indulge me fancies. She left nothing to Nelly because she was always ashamed of her selling things in the street; you know how snobbish old women can be. Well, I look after Nelly because I feel that she ought to have got some of the money. Anyway aside from that, she is my sister.’
As we made our way back to High Holborn I suggested that the woman had seemed quite respectable and sensible. Holmes agreed; he had not brought up the matter of Forrage and the envelope, saying, ‘There seemed little point and we would have needed to put our cards upon the table to ask her that. This I feel unwilling to do at this exact moment. But we need to be able to give Forrage some scrap of encouragement soon, Watson.’
We had no lead to follow and as if by habit it seemed to me we turned into the front entrance of Forrage’s. The store was packed with shoppers and browsers, and even those who were simply mildly curious. We decided to take a lift to the second floor and explore some of those departments that we had neglected so far. The office supplies department seemed less crowded than most of the others, but then filing cabinets and stationery were never high on the average Christmas list. We admired the rows of shining, brand-new typewriting machines and a strange-looking device which we were assured was a ‘Dictagram’. One spoke into a tube-shaped object, light enough to be held in the hand, which was attached to a machine which looked like a rather large gramophone, fitted with the old-fashioned cylinder. The salesman explained, ‘You speak into the tube and your voice is recorded upon the cylinder. In a year or two I imagine it will use the new flat discs that the latest gramophones utilise. Meanwhile, the cylinder is very practical and can be used over and over again to play back your messages. Would you care to try it?’
I spoke a few words which I heard repeated as if from afar and through a muffin, but had to admit that for dictation purposes it would be quite practical. Holmes seemed uninterested, glancing around the rest of the wares whilst I was so engaged.
As we sauntered away, through the luggage department, Holmes asked me if I had seen or heard anything of significance in Office Supplies. I told him that I could not honestly say that I had, but that I had found the new dictation machine of interest. He shrugged and said, ‘When it is half the size and twice as accurate I will purchase one, for I can see its value. But there were other things in that department which interested me, for example . . .’
But he was interrupted. A.W. Forrage suddenly ap-peared and hailed us. ‘Holmes, I’m glad to run into you . . . another threat has arrived, typed on a folded paper just as before.’
He thrust a now familiar-looking folded sheet into my friend’s hand and stood by in a very agitated manner. Holmes indicated the Café Continental entrance and suggested that we retreat therein to examine the missive. Forrage agreed and ordered coffee for us, but not until it had been delivered to our fairly secluded alcove did he again bring back the subject. ‘Well, Holmes, what do you make of it?’
My friend studied it and passed it to me, saying to Forrage, ‘It’s meaning is clear but not of course the degree of its threat.’
I read the message aloud quietly,
WITH SAWDUST A CIRCLE WITHOUT END? IT MAY END IN TEARS.
Forrage asked, ‘D’ye reckon he refers to the tool department? You know, saws and sawdust and all that?’
Holmes shook his head. ‘I believe it refers to a sawdust ring, the circus in your basement.’
We finished our coffee swiftly and made our way, the three of us, to the basement.
It had been quite a few years since I had seen a circus and the one in Forrage’s store was very small in comparison to those that I remembered from my youth. But I must say that from the point of view of quality and smartness it compared favourably. The area which Forrage told me was often deployed as a ‘bargain basement’ outside of the Christmas season had been quite transformed. There was a circle of tiered seating for about three hundred people, surrounding a sawdust ring of about eighteen feet across. Holmes informed me that this was only about three-quarters of the size of a full circus ring. Sometimes I wondered how he managed to absorb and remember such trivialities. There was a smart ring entrance, like a miniature theatre with red plush curtains atop of which sat four musicians in military uniforms. They played brass instruments with verve if not expertise.
I will not tire the reader with a description of the performance as a whole: enough to mention a few highlights just to give some idea of the character of the event itself. First, however, let me say that like everything else at Forrage’s it was rattling good value for the few pence charged for admission. It was brief of duration, being little more than an hour in length, but any child who had never seen a circus would have enjoyed an excellent taste of what such an entertainment could offer with its trained horses, acrobats and clowns, and perhaps most surprising of all a real live elephant which walked upon a huge ball and lathered and shaved one of the clowns. Finally the elephant trainer explained to the audience that the huge pachyderm would walk over the recumbent form of the trainer’s wife ‘Maritza’, and he called for complete and utter silence during the feat, saying, ‘I do not wish anything to happen to Maritza, because it took me a long time to find her!’
This charming little speech brought a round of applause and this was followed by the silence appealed for as the ponderous great animal stepped daintily with each great foot over the recumbent Maritza. There was a gasp of relief when it was all over and the first of the several daily performances was complete. As the audience trooped out, Holmes, Forrage and I conferred.
‘I think we need to pay serious attention to that final feat for a number of reasons,’ said Holmes.
I said, ‘You mean because it is the most dangerous moment in the performance?’
‘Yes, but also because the threat mentions “MAY END IN TEARS”. The feat is not only dangerous but is at the very end of the circus. Forrage, I would like to talk to the elephant trainer.’
He was hesitant. ‘You may do so, but I must ask that you be diplomatic. Do not either cause him to become anxious, or yet inform him of the purpose of your enquiries.’
Holmes nodded and replied, ‘I have carried out, sir, investigations which involved royal houses and upon the outcome of these investigations, in some instances, the fate of nations and many thousands of lives depended.’
Holmes was furious, I could tell, from his icy calm manner, and did not wait for a reply as he strode towards the curtained entrance with Forrage and me in his wake.
As we passed through that red plush curtain we were ‘back-stage’ at the circus in fact, but not in feeling. I had once been behind the scenes at a circus in a big tent on Clapham Common as a child. The atmosphere had been something that I had never forgotten with the smell of fresh grass mixed with that of the sawdust and alfresco stables. Here one could not forget that one was in the basement of a huge department store, with the odours generated by the beasts being dulled with perfumed disinfectant. But as for the cast of clowns and artistes, they were a different matter and spoke to each other in that international language of the sawdust ring; thus Hungarians understood Swedes and English acrobats could call to French musicians that their music was wrong. Holmes spoke to the Hungarian elephant trainer, assuming the role of an inspector from the league to protect captive animals. He explai
ned, ‘Mr Kover, I have brought my veterinary surgeon, Mr West, to examine your elephant.’
I started, for aside from the fact that the elephant was of the Asiatic variety, I had little experience to call upon. I asked him to cause the animal to open its mouth and pretended to look at its teeth. Fortunately I remembered from my days in India that elephants during their time upon this earth are blessed with a number of sets of molars; not just two sets as with homo sapiens. I enquired, ‘Are these her third or fourth set of teeth?’
Kover replied, ‘Her fourth, for she is fifty years of age.’
I grunted, walked around the beast nodding wisely, and then turned to Holmes saying, ‘The animal appears to be in good condition, Mr Summers.’
Holmes did not start at the name with which I had retaliated and said, ‘I think we can give this three-ton lady a good report, Kover, and I hope for the sake of your good lady that the animal has a steady temperament.’
Then he questioned the trainer regarding the degree of danger involved with the feat that we had just witnessed. ‘Your wife is, I trust, not in real peril when the animal walks over her?’
Kover answered in a very direct manner. ‘Oh no, sir, I would not permit that. There is a certain risk, but then we are circus people. The appeal for silence is just for show, a sweet bag or a child crying would not cause Mitzie to step upon Maritza. It would take a very great disturbance to do that.’
I asked, ‘Perhaps an explosion or something of the kind?’
He replied, ‘That at the least, Mr West.’
We took our leave of Kover and his wife and, of course, his elephant Mitzie and mingled with some of the other artistes and grooms, with Holmes and I keeping up our characters as vet and inspector. My friend, I soon realised, was trying to discover if any of the circus people had noticed anyone of unusual character hanging around the enterprise. He particularly asked such questions of the clown whom we had observed to spend a deal of time in the audience. He asked, ‘My dear Mr Bimbo, during your excursions among the spectators, have you seen anyone of a kind that you would not expect to encounter in a circus audience?’
