Sherlock Holmes and the Egyptian Hall Adventure
Page 4
Lestrade fell into the trap. ‘The window was open!’
‘Quite, but we have established that only a man of wiry build could have entered by it. De Kolta was escorted from the premises, only minutes before the event. If he is guilty of the murder he must have re-entered the building by other means. But then I have no doubt that you have already interrogated the stage door keeper and all of the front of house staff.’ Holmes spoke the words not as a question, which might have embarrassed the Scotland Yard man. As it was, Inspector Lestrade was able to save his face by nodding curtly, saying, ‘Excuse me, I must pursue my enquiries…’
With the inspector off the scene, Holmes wasted no time in pursuing a few enquiries of his own. The first person he made towards was David Devant.
Mr Devant invited Holmes and I to join him in his ‘lair’ (as he called it) which proved to be a spacious apartment on an upper floor of the Egyptian Hall. He was circumspect enough to suggest that the permission of Inspector Lestrade should be sought before he left the green room. However, Holmes assured him that this would hardly be necessary. This assurance was borne out when we passed Lestrade in the corridor, where he was interviewing the elderly stage door keeper. He merely nodded curtly as we passed, without any questions as to Devant’s intended movements.
Devant’s lair was a strange mixture of the administrative and the theatrical, with its framed posters and huge roll-top desk. There were several comfortable-looking chairs, and he bade us take advantage of two of these, which we did, Devant himself preferring to perch upon a high stool, of the kind used by clerks and secretaries. He told us a good deal about himself, and how he had been taken on by Maskelyne just a few years earlier.
‘I was a nomad Mr Holmes, touring the music halls, and sometimes broadening my activities. Why once I even managed a troupe of midgets. But I settled here, first as a performer, but later able to take some of the responsibilities from Mr Maskelyne’s shoulders. Now I am manager of the Egyptian Hall, and a junior partner to Maskelyne and Cooke. The Guv’nor trusts me completely, a trust, I might add, I would never abuse. The only real difference we have ever had concerned the moving pictures. When I saw Trewey’s demonstration at the polytechnic I knew we had to have them. The old man wouldn’t buy a projector, so I purchased one myself, and he could hardly refuse its use. Through its introduction he has seen a considerable improvement at the box-office.’
He offered us refreshment, bringing spirit and gasogyne bottles from a well stocked cupboard. I noticed that he poured more than a generous measure of spirit into his own glass. Though he showed no other signs of nervousness, I noted a slight tremor of his right hand.
I had seen only the brief appearance of Mr Maskelyne, and no sign of him since. I asked, ‘Does Mr Maskelyne also have an office in the building?’ ‘Oh yes, right at the top, like an eyrie. It’s more of a workshop really. You know he is a mechanical genius. Apart from theatrical automata he has innovated many commercial items. He built one of the first practical typewriting machines, and invented the penny in the slot contrivance that is used in most public lavatories.’
Holmes asked, ‘Has he been informed of the tragedy?’ Devant nodded. ‘Oh yes, his son Nevil has surely told him. But the inspector thought it unnecessary to question him. After all, he was up in his attic at the time of the murder.’
Holmes, irritated by his long abstinence from strong tobacco asked, ‘Have you by chance some of that Rhodesian shag that you smoke, and a spare pipe?’ the conjurer shot a sharp glance at the detective, and then relaxed into a smile of comprehension. As he brought a pipe and pouch from a desk drawer he said, ‘I hadn’t realised that its odour lingered so, I am so used to it.’ Holmes chuckled, mellowed by the thought that he would soon be consuming strong shag again. ‘I too am used to it, but my reaction to its scent is sharpened by long deprivation.’
As the strong smoke began to fill the room, Devant leaned earnestly forward and asked, ‘Mr Holmes, how may I help you? For I realise that although you are conducting enquiries in this grim business, it could not have been that which brought you here. Moreover, I would judge that a musical recital would be more your idea of entertainment than an exhibition of necromancy! Did some prediction of tragedy bring you here?’
Holmes chuckled through the comforting fumes of Rhodesian shag and said, ‘Cyrano was a client of mine Mr Devant. We came here at his invitation. But despite the fact that he has expired, I cannot at this present moment divulge his confidence.’
Devant responded, ‘You are so right to respect his confidence.’
Holmes changed the subject. ‘Tell me, are you able to actually make your own films, as well as simply showing those which already exist?’ Devant showed some surprise at this enquiry, but also seemed happy enough to answer it in an open manner. ‘Why yes, I have a special camera with which I am able to do so. I myself made the film of Queen Victoria’s Jubilee, which you saw this evening.’
A knock on the door interrupted what might have proved to be a most interesting conversation. It was Lestrade, with the news that he had concluded his investigations for the time being.
‘I’m going back to the Yard. Can I offer you a lift gentlemen?’
I nodded, but Holmes cancelled my nod by shaking his head and saying, ‘It is kind of you Inspector, but it is a pleasant evening. I think a walk back to Baker Street might help my chain of thought.’
Lestrade left us, his only other comment being to the effect that on the morrow he would question Buatier De Kolta. ‘I have not the evidence to arrest him, but I certainly want a few words with that gentleman!’
We said our goodbyes to Devant, who assured Holmes that he would be given the freedom of the Egyptian Hall at any time.
We strolled at a steady pace that would have been a perfect example to a newly recruited police constable, had Holmes’ angular frame not leaned forward, as it tended to when he was deep in thought. We gained Oxford Street by way of New Bond Street, and eventually turned into Baker Street itself for the final three quarter miles of our walk.
Several times we passed rowdy mobs of troublemakers, strayed from their native East End. Holmes appeared not to notice them and possibly did not. Anyway I was grateful that he and I did not present the appearance of easy victims. I fancied my stout malacca would have set them to flight had the situation arisen. I was comforted also by the fact that Holmes was the finest boxer, for his weight, in the whole of England.
Several times I was tempted to hail a hansom, but dared not lest I disturb my friend’s reverie.
Then, almost within sight of home he spoke. ‘Watson, we went to the Egyptian Hall to investigate a robbery, and stayed to enquire into a murder most foul. On the surface the two things would appear to be unconnected yet my mind tells me that a connection there must be!’
As we stood upon the doorstep of 221b I was weary, for the hour was late. Yet from the light of the street lamp I could detect the animation in my friend’s face, aye and the sparkle in his eyes.
Chapter Four – A Visit Returned
Mr Sherlock Holmes’ breakfast habits and mannerisms I have well documented in the past but, on the morning following our visit to the Egyptian Hall, I entered the living room to find that there had been no arrangements for breakfast whatever. Holmes, fully dressed in a town suit, sat at the unlaid table, his letters, newspapers and a telegram before him.
‘Watson! Your tardiness has at last caught up with you. Breakfast was over long ago!’
In panic I consulted my turnip, only to find that my bedroom clock had not been inaccurate. Then I caught the twinkle in my friend’s eye.
‘No Watson, it is not long past your usual time for making your entrance. I have found it necessary to postpone, or even eliminate breakfast entirely.’ I found all this a little breathtaking, for the cancellation of breakfast at 221b Baker Street must surely, I felt, indicate some event of great import. In trying to imagine what the event could be a sudden stab of sad possibility crossed my mind.
Then I looked at the telegram upon his plate, half revealing an expensive looking envelope upon which I could see half of a family crest. He still followed my gaze and said, ‘Right at last Watson, for the telegram announces the impending visit of Mr David Devant. He will be with us within a quarter of an hour.’
I said, ‘Which means that he has something to tell you which he did not remember, or wish to tell you last night. However, he wishes to tell you now, yet does not wish to take Lestrade into his confidence.’
Holmes applauded me.
‘Excellent Watson, I am of the same mind, and we can confirm or deny our predictions within a few minutes. Meanwhile, you may just have time to cast your eye over this item in “The Courier”.’
He passed me the newspaper, neatly folded, so that the item which he wished me to read was isolated. As he handed it to me I was given a tantalising glimpse of that crested envelope. But he swiftly transferred that elegant seeming missive to his inside pocket. I did not ask him about the letter, instead giving my attention to the newspaper piece.
TERRIBLE TRAGEDY AT MASKELYNE’S THEATRE
The Egyptian Hall, ‘England’s Home of Mystery’, was the scene last night of a tragic mystery to rival any dramatic necromancy of Mr J.N. Maskelyne. Cyril Randolph, known professionally as ‘Cyrano’, was found brutally murdered in his dressing room only minutes after giving a performance which had been interrupted by death threats. The man who uttered those threats, the eminent French illusionist, Buatier De Kolta, far from being in custody, is to replace the late Mr Randolph in the Egyptian Hall programme!
Holmes had neatly underlined the last paragraph with a red pencil.
I laid the paper back on the table. ‘Why Holmes, the decision to include De Kolta in the programme must have been very quickly made, and is, if I might say so, in the worst possible taste.’
Holmes chuckled, ‘Come Watson, we are dealing here with showmen.’
I grunted, ‘Devant must have known about this before we left the Egyptian Hall last night, for the news to appear in this morning’s paper.’ He shook his head, ‘I doubt it, indeed I fancy we should have cast our better feelings aside and visited the old gentleman in the attic.’
‘Maskelyne … you think this is his doing? Yet Devant told us of his unenterprising attitude toward the moving pictures.’ Holmes replied, ‘Yes, but that was an invention which, strangely I’ll grant, had failed to capture his imagination. He is an old showman with a great sense of the dramatic. But as far as Devant is concerned, there is a certain other matter in which I would have preferred him to confide in me.’
Before I could rejoin, substantial footsteps hailed the arrival of David Devant. As he entered, the conjurer looked very different from the man in the faultless tails the night before. His country tweed suit, hat, and ashplant made him look like a country squire. We seated him almost as comfortably as he had seated us in his lair. He declined tobacco from the slipper but accepted a cigar from the coalscuttle.
‘Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson, it is good of you to see me at such an hour, but I had to see you and my day is so filled. My first business appointments are at ten, followed by rehearsals at eleven. Then I have to prepare the theatre for the reception of the public, who will start to arrive for the matinee at two-thirty. Then I have that performance and another in the evening. I will be home at midnight with any luck.’
I enquired, ‘At what hour do you rise sir?’
He replied, ‘At six, and I ride on Hampstead Heath between seven and eight. So you see I am usually very direct, for my crowded life makes this necessary. But I have been less than direct with you Mr Holmes and I am here to put that right.’
Holmes said, ‘Little explanation is required Mr Devant. The circumstances of the mislaid diamond ring, the mechanics of the performance and other circumstances make its loss all but impossible. I do not of course suggest that Randolph intended to steal it. If he had he would hardly have engaged a detective to find it. No, he engaged me because he was sure that I would not find it. After all, he had it safe himself, or so he thought. As for the titled lady, he established just how long it would be before she enlisted the law. He planned to “find” the ring again, publicly, under bizarre circumstances at a performance. The whole thing then was what you showmen would term a “publicity device” and would be well documented in the newspapers. But he could not have attempted the scheme I feel without your own co-operation.’
Devant was amazed. He said, ‘You have deduced everything correctly. It was a daring idea, which was what appealed to me when Cyrano came to me with it.’
I could not help but interrupt, ‘Could we now have a motive for the murder… The ring I mean?’
Holmes said, ‘Possibly. Certainly whoever took the ring knew the secret of the box. Otherwise it would have been broken open or it would be missing.’
Devant was obviously astonished that Holmes had taken up everything which the conjurer had expected to drop in the detective’s lap, like some anarchist’s bomb. He asked, ‘What am I going to do? I will have to tell Mr Maskelyne about this, and it may result in the loss of my position.’
I asked, ‘Are you not indispensible to Mr Maskelyne?’ Holmes said, ‘Watson nobody is indispensible. But Mr Devant, I feel that your employer is treading almost as dangerous a path himself.’ Devant said, ‘Ah, so you have seen the newspapers? The Guv’nor decided on that course and informed me soon after you and the doctor had left the hall. The Courier reporter was on the premises, concerning the murder and he went with J.N. in a hansom to De Kolta’s home in Clerkenwell. What J.N. did may appear tasteless, but it makes me no more anxious to tell him about the ring.’
‘Then do not immediately tell him, Mr Devant. Give me a day, and I will try and regain the ring for you.’
As Devant put on his hat and picked up his coat he performed these actions as if he were taking his ‘call’ at the Egyptian Hall.
Britain’s most charismatic conjurer left, I felt, a little less anxious than when he arrived. The slight tremor was still there, but barely noticeable when he shook hands with us. I remarked on it to Holmes, who said, ‘I leave medical diagnosis to you Doctor.’ I replied, ‘Well, short of a proper examination I would suspect the early warning signs of “paralysis agitans’’.’ We both remarked to the effect that we hoped my diagnosis could be incorrect.
It was by now, I felt, rather too late to suggest that Holmes should call Mrs Hudson for a late breakfast. In any case I could see that he was preparing to go out. As he lifted a hat and stick from the rack he said, ‘Watson, I shall be very surprised if I do not return to Baker Street before this day is out, bearing Lady Windrush’s ring. However, tell no one of my mission, especially Lestrade, should he materialise. Unless of course you would care to accompany me. I warn you, the enterprise may not be without its dangers.’
I was somewhat hurt by his words and said, warmly, ‘You do not then consider it better to have an ex-army officer with you if danger is involved? I may have been wounded in Her Majesties’ Service Holmes, but I am still no weakling!’
Holmes laughed in an open and wholesome manner. ‘Watson, my dear friend, I was simply teasing you. There is no man in England that I would rather have at my side in a tight corner than your good self.’
I said, ‘Right Holmes, I’m your man then, but I warn you that I shall insist on stopping somewhere for a late breakfast or early luncheon.’
Perhaps a half an hour later we were standing at a coffee stall near Middlesex Street, that gateway to the East End as one leaves the city itself I had drawn the line at the ‘pie and eel shop’ which Holmes, with his cosmopolitan tastes, had been willing enough to patronise. But I was happy enough, aye hungry enough, to enjoy t
he bread and sausage and steaming mugs of coffee with which we refreshed ourselves.
I asked the obvious question. ‘Why have you come to this particular area Holmes?’ He spoke quietly, perhaps as a gentle hint to myself. ‘Watson, I’ll wager that the thief will want to unload that ring as quickly as humanly possible. Most of the “fences” for such a valuable item are within a stone’s throw of where we stand. They are all known to me. Indeed I know of two or three who would be able to find the sort of money involved. It would be four thousand pounds if the thief knows what he has, and that is but a fraction of the real value. We will start first at the premises of a Mr Webber. He and I have met before.’
Webber’s shop, which we reached via many back alleys, was a sort of bric-a-brac establishment. From outside it was all but impossible to see the wares through the glass of windows or door, so thick was the grime. Inside, everything: vases, books, furnishings and glassware, was covered with what Mr Webber referred to as a ‘lovely bloom’.
‘My dear Mr Holmes, the customers won’t touch anything these days unless it’s got a lovely bloom. If it’s too clean they fancy you are charging them its full value. They like to find something… dirty that they think is cheap and imagine they can clean up!’ Mr Webber was a small, stout, round-faced man, wearing a kimono which might well have arrived at his premises from some auction sale of oriental articles. ‘Mr Webber, I have a favour to ask.’ ‘Name it, it is yours my dear Mr Holmes. I haven’t forgotten how you helped me over that little misunderstanding I had with the police…’
‘You surrendered to me a very valuable necklace, that I might return it to its owner. In return I kept your name out of the affair. But of course Scotland Yard would still be interested in your activities.’ Webber cast his eyes down, demurely, saying, ‘That episode cost me a lot of money Mr Holmes… but worth it to retain the trust of a gentleman such as yourself.’