Sherlock Holmes and the Egyptian Hall Adventure

by Val Andrews

  I could not restrain myself from asking, ‘But Holmes, if these facts are as you say they are, and Craig is not the murderer, why did you go to such an amount of trouble to produce this charade, and put Mr Devant to such enormous trouble in filming this scene and producing a positive version of it in record time?’

  Holmes was almost apologetic, almost, though not quite. He answered, ‘At the time when I collaborated with Mr Devant to produce what you have seen I believed Mr Craig to be the murderer. It was only quite recently that I became sure that he was not.’

  Lestrade was almost apoplectic at this statement, rounding on Holmes with, ‘See here Holmes, you have brought me here with police resources knowing that this clever demonstration could only convict a man of robbery or so you say! My brief is to catch a murderer. Well, I’m not too sure that this man Craig is not still a suspect. I’ve a mind to arrest him and confiscate the film for evidence. I have to show my superiors something to justify time and expense!’

  Holmes said, ‘But Inspector, would not your superiors be even more grateful if you were to produce the real murderer?’

  Even I thought that Holmes was pushing his luck with Lestrade. After all, although brilliant, the demonstration had not really done anything for the inspector, apart from gaining his irate attention.

  Like a conjurer threatening to produce a rabbit, Holmes asked, ‘Lestrade, I told you that you might make your arrest this night, but the night is not over yet. Bear with me and if I am right in my deductions, you may have your murderer. At the time when I all but promised you your arrest, earlier today, I was already sure in my mind that Craig was innocent of all save robbery. It was not he that I thought of…’

  ‘Oh…’ said Lestrade now obviously anxious to placate the Baker Street detective. ‘Are you telling me you know who it is?’

  ‘I think I know and I’m seldom wrong… Watson will verify that.’ Lestrade was very impatient, ‘Mr Holmes, please!’

  My friend began a story of amazing accusation which would astonish every one of us.

  ‘I began to be intrigued by the fact that the closets in the Cyrano dressing room and the empty one next door used only for storage, had some kind of linking door, of a simple enough kind. I did not at that time wish it known that I knew of its existence, and I was never alone in the room to examine this arrangement as closely as I would have liked. Its actuality was borne out by back stage stories of ghostly voices seeming at times to come from the locked room. Its window, unlike that in Cyrano’s room, was barred, no doubt on account of the secret nature of the items stored therein.’

  Lestrade was impatient, ‘You mean the killer entered Cyrano’s room through a secret door linking the two cupboards?’

  Holmes bowed slightly, ‘Bear with me Lestrade, I come now to the means of the killing, effected with Mr Maskelyne’s winding calliper. This means of attack suggests that we need no longer look only for a strongly built or large person. I remembered the photograph of the midget troupe, in Cyrano’s album. Also, backstage gossip suggested that Cyrano had been extremely unpleasant to one of these midgets.’

  I asked, ‘But was there anywhere in the room where even a midget could hide himself Holmes?’

  ‘Not so far as I could see at the time.’

  ‘Then…’

  Holmes continued, ‘I took the photograph to a theatrical agent in the King’s Cross area. He was able to identify one of the midgets and gave his name as Kurt Schmidtt, as well as the name of another agent who sometimes obtained bookings for him.’

  Then Holmes dropped his ‘bombshell’ which brought Lestrade, who had settled on a stool, to his feet.

  ‘This second agent told me that he had recently obtained a booking for Kurt Schmidtt with J.N. Maskelyne, at the Egyptian Hall.’

  ‘What?’ Lestrade was alert now, ‘That’s too much of a coincidence!’

  ‘My very own feeling Lestrade, yet no midget appears on the programme presented at this theatre.’

  The Inspector walked over to where the Grand Old Man of the Egyptian Hall stood next to his automata. ‘Mr Maskelyne, is this true… did you in fact engage this midget, and if so, why have we not seen him?’

  J.N. Maskelyne suddenly looked rather old. He said, ‘Inspector, I did indeed engage a midget, but as you can see he does not appear to be here.’ His son, Neil, intervened. ‘Please Inspector, my father is not a young man and must not become excited, due to his heart.’

  ‘But man, I have to know!’

  Holmes took on the ‘starring role’ again, ‘Inspector, I believe I can save both Messrs Maskelyne further grief by explaining what I believe to be the truth.’

  Lestrade pleaded, ‘Please, please do!’

  ‘Due to Mr Maskelyne’s secrecy, my examination of the automata, stored in the spare dressing room was of a cursory nature. Even so, I could see that the portion housing the clockwork mechanism was rather large. In any case I could not believe that a simple clockwork mechanism such as it was, could perform such a sophisticated job. Even before I identified Schmidtt I had started to believe that a small person, perhaps even a child, must be hidden behind the mechanism in order to operate a duplicate set of typing keys, connected to the letters themselves by leads. Of course I realised that the model “secretary” was a bit of showman’s sham, and eventually that the clockwork was also!

  ‘Then the business of the missing and reappearing winding calliper came into the picture, and its identification as a murder weapon. Its real use was for the occasional winding of the sham clockwork, in order that it would move and give the impression required. Everything started to fall together in my mind. Through his mania for secrecy Mr Maskelyne found it necessary to regularly smuggle the midget out of the apparatus and out of the room via the secret door linking the two closets. This meant that when everyone but he had left the theatre, Mr Maskelyne could allow his midget a few hours of freedom, and therefore had no need to disturb the complicated locks. The lock to Cyrano’s dressing room could be opened with a schoolboy’s penknife, but no one would think to try and get to the secret room that way. Whatever his grudge, once he had realised that Cyrano was in the room next to him, he could not resist planning to kill him and carrying out that plan. When Maskelyne took him into his eyrie, he managed to annex the calliper and returned it later.’

  The Old Man interceded, ‘I trusted him, and even let him eat late night meals with me in the attic!’

  Holmes concluded, ‘I may have missed some small details, but that I believe is the true picture of what happened.’

  Nevil Maskelyne was the next to speak. ‘Very astute of you Mr Holmes, and you refer to my father’s mania for secrecy. But had you seen how he has suffered at the hands of “pirates”, as indeed has Mr De Kolta, you would perhaps not think too harshly of him over this affair.’ Lestrade said, ‘And I suppose this Schmidtt has got clean away whilst we have been listening to all this?’

  Sherlock Holmes said, ‘On the contrary Lestrade. Through a special arrangement between myself and Mr Devant the automata has remained in the wings since it was used in the performance. I believe that you will find Kurt Schmidt to be still inside.’

  Lestrade looked at the machine in disbelief. He said, ‘I’ll believe that there is a man in there when I see him step out of it. Anyone can see that the mannikin on top is worked by clockwork!’

  He swung the door on the apparatus open to bare the mechanism to our gaze. I had to admit that there did not appear to be anywhere to conceal a man, however small.

  Then quite suddenly, like an inner door, that wall of mechanics swung open, bearing out Holmes’ theory. From the compartment thus revealed, there stepped one of the smallest men that I have ever seen. It was difficult to gauge his age, but he was perfectly proportioned: in other words not a dwarf. His height appeared to be about three feet. He had close cropped hair and a fiercely waxed moustache of the type sported by the German Kaiser. He spoke in a high, clear voice, with a distinct German accent.

  �
��Gentlemens, I believe you are looking for me? My name is Kurt Schmidtt and I am a subject of his Majesty, the Kaiser Wilhelm. I have heard all that you have been saying, and I wish you to know Mr Holmes that you are absolutely right in almost all your deductions concerning my actions. I had vowed that one day I would kill Cyrano. My chance came, and I took it. It was not easy to do, even with the geared calliper, but I was able to trip him, and once on the floor he had no chance.’

  Holmes looked at the strange little man sternly yet not without compassion and asked, ‘My deductions regarding your motive were correct then?’

  ‘Yes, he was not merely unpleasant to me in Vienna, but he actually did me great harm. The worst thing he did to me was to secretly shorten my walking cane, and replace the ferrule. This made me believe that I was growing taller.’

  I said quite the wrong thing. ‘But surely, you would want to have been taller?’

  He said, ‘Herr Doctor, you do not understand theatrical things and the world of the show grounds. Twenty five years ago I would have given anything to be taller. But once I had come to terms with my tragedy and realised that I could capitalise on it, my feelings were quite different. My height is actually thirty-seven inches. I have known other men as small as myself who started to grow, in their twenties or even thirties. Not more than perhaps eight inches or so, but enough to make them useless for show business. After all, who would want a four foot midget? He is neither fish nor fowl.’

  Holmes asked, ‘It was an affaire de cour was it not?’ I thought it a misplaced joke on Holmes’ part, but the midget nodded his head.

  ‘Yes, of a sort. Cyrano’s lady partner, Madame Patricia, was always very kind to me. But Cyrano, who was a foolish man, as well as an evil one, misunderstood, and thought that he must do me harm…’

  The lady in question had been standing well back, a hand covering the astonishment of her mouth. Now she ran forward and laid a kindly hand upon the little man’s shoulder. She spoke to him, ‘My little friend, I had no idea that he had tried to harm you. I just thought that you were sick.’

  Schmidtt placed a small hand upon hers and said, ‘I know dear lady, you were always kind. Well, I was sick, sick with worry at my supposed increase in height. When it got round the fairground that I believed I was growing, everyone said to me, “Why Kurt, you look bigger… I’m sure you are growing.” But I realise now that there was no evil in them, just in Cyrano. My work started to suffer, and I started to become a secret drinker. I ruined one acrobatic trick too many and lost my employment.’

  I asked, ‘What did you do then?’

  He said, ‘I obtained work, very low paid, as a midget clown in a circus. The sort of work that a midget that had actually grown might find. Then, after about a year I had an accident, and fell on my head. I landed in hospital where I was given a very thorough examination. The doctor was very interested in me. I suppose it was not every day he had the chance to examine a midget. He even measured me, and discovered that I was exactly thirty-seven inches tall! After that there came a change in my fortunes, despite which I still planned that I would kill Cyrano some day, just for the hell that he had put me through. When I heard that he was in England I came here and worked for a time for “Lord” George Sanger. When Cyrano started at this theatre I came to London. Then, when I heard that Herr Maskelyne was looking for a “secret little man” I knew that my chance had come. Had it not been for the Great Sherlock Holmes I believe that the traitor, Craig, would have paid for my crime, as well as his own.’

  Holmes nodded curtly and said, ‘That might seem just to you Herr Schmidtt, but in Britain, truth and justice are paramount.’

  Schmidtt said, ‘But it will not be in a British courtroom that this matter will be tried, at least as far as I am concerned. As a German citizen I believe I can demand to be deported. In Germany they have a rather different outlook upon a matter of this kind.’

  Lestrade, who had seemed to be in a trancelike state, suddenly sprang to life. He gave a signal to bring the hurried appearance of one of his constables. Then he glared sternly down at the midget and said, ‘Kurt Schmidtt, I hereby arrest you for the murder of one Cyril Randolph, professionally known as Cyrano…’

  ‘I protest, I am a subject of the Kaiser!’

  ‘That might be, young fellow-me-lad, but for the moment you are my prisoner and anything you say may be used in evidence…’

  This time the inspector had the right man.

  As for Matthew Craig, he was remarkably fortunate. Not only was he cleared of the murder, but he was actually forgiven his disloyalty by his employer, Buatier De Kolta, who stated that the fault could have been his own through not paying Craig enough. This, he said, was something he would rectify.

  On our return to Baker Street, over a nightcap, I remarked to Holmes upon De Kolta’s extreme docility in the matter.

  ‘I cannot help but remember that wild man who frenziedly shouted dire threats at Cyrano, when he presented that very illusion which has become so much a bone of contention. Now, instead of wanting to kill Craig he raises his pay!’

  Holmes said, ‘How very Hungarian Watson! De Kolta is more Hungarian than French.’

  On the day following, Holmes sent for Matthew Craig to come to 221b. The detective was stern in his manner toward him.

  ‘You must realise Craig that you have only your own dishonesty and irresponsible actions to blame for the fact that you came within a whisper of being arrested, accused of a capital offence?’

  Very much ‘cap in hand’, Craig said, ‘Yes, I have only myself to blame. What have you decided about that little matter of the diamond ring Mr Holmes?’

  My friend started. ‘Little matter… you call the theft of what you took to be a very valuable trinket a “little matter’’?’

  ‘Perhaps I expressed myself badly…’

  ‘You did! Now listen to me carefully Craig. I believe that if you follow my advice, to the letter, you need not fear police involvement.’

  ‘Please tell me what I must do sir, your wish is my command.’

  My friend winced at the sickly phrase, and said, ‘Well to begin with, you will never trouble the owner of the ring. It has been returned to her, and that is the last that need concern her. To continue, only one person has actually suffered through the theft, Stringer, the jeweller, who paid you a large sum of money for it.’

  ‘But… but he’s just a fence!’

  Holmes rounded on him sharply, ‘Exactly, and you are just a thief!’

  Craig lowered his head in either real or assumed shame. He said, very quietly, ‘What then is your guidance?’ Sherlock Holmes tamped the tobacco in his clay pipe. Prior to lighting it, he asked, ‘Do you still have the money that he paid you, or have you already spent all or part of it?’

  ‘I have spent none of it, I have it all.’

  ‘Very well then, you will go to Stringer and repay him. Rest assured I will hear of it if you don’t. After that you can forget the affair, always assuming your future life is blameless. Should you stray from the straight and narrow path in the future, especially in your dealings with your employer, I will be forced to bring every one of your dishonest details to the attention of the authorities. While Inspector Lestrade is too interested in his murder to pay much attention to you, there are other persons who would be fascinated with the details of your activities.’

  After Craig had left us, Holmes said to me, ‘You know Watson, Lady Windrush has also emerged fortunate from this affair, though I admit that her continued good fortune will depend upon the behaviour of Craig. I do not anticipate any problems from his direction.’

  I said, ‘Then she is lucky indeed.’

  Holmes came the nearest I have ever seen to a wink, short of that action. He said to me, ‘The good lady is lucky indeed to have such a good friend as Doctor John Watson!’

  I didn’t quite know how to reply.

  *

  The following day we had a visit from Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard. I wondered
if he would complement Holmes upon the investigation, demonstration and deductions which had enabled him to make his arrest. He appeared to be a little sheepish and unsure of what his stance should be. But Holmes, whilst not exactly putting Lestrade at his ease, broke the ice as far as conversation was concerned.

  He said, ‘Ah, Inspector, I congratulate you upon your acceptance into the ranks of “The Knights of Alchemy”. I do not approve much of secret societies myself, but I’m sure that membership will have its advantages for you.’

  Lestrade growled, ‘Really Mr Holmes, a body can’t do anything without you getting to hear of it. Who told you, my sergeant?’

  Holmes threw back his head in honest laughter. He turned to me and said, ‘A bulls-eye Watson!’ Then turning to Lestrade he said, ‘Nobody told me – I was in ignorance of your membership until you stepped into this room.’

  ‘Then how…’

  ‘Oh come Inspector, it is a little early in the year for salt-water paddling, and in any case for that activity both trouser legs are rolled to the knee. Simple observation shows me that just one leg of your usually immaculate nether garment has been recently rolled to the knee. I am aware that such rolling of a trouser leg is part of the ritual involved in the membership ceremony. A little childish I think.’

  Lestrade said, glumly, ‘If you want to get into the really high ranks in my profession Mr Holmes, you have to be a member.’

  More seriously, Holmes said, ‘I am aware of that, I have written a monograph upon the subject of “Secret Societies and the Ruling Establishment’’.’

  With the air of one with a painful duty to perform Lestrade said, ‘Very interesting, but I just came to say that I’m grateful to you for saving me the indignity of arresting the wrong man, and, I think I have mentioned before, that on occasion you have noticed some details that I have overlooked. As I say, I’m grateful for your co-operation.’