‘Besides,’ he added, ‘the hypocaust would have been hot enough to roast a hog. Kellway would hardly have been comfortable there.’
‘Perhaps he added fire-walking to his miraculous abilities.’ Holmes smiled. ‘But no, on the whole that is not an assumption that the facts will support.’
He inspected the floor of Room A nonetheless, and found no sign that any of the tiles had been prised up or otherwise interfered with. He examined the walls, tapping them at intervals to assure himself of their solidity, then stood on tiptoe to look at the far window. The bars were set approximately two inches apart, cemented firmly into the wall, and, despite Sir Newnham’s comments of the previous evening, I had trouble imagining a full-grown cat making its way through. When the inventor unlocked it for us, the window swung open only a few inches on its catch.
‘Certainly no-one could have left that way. Unless he was cut into small pieces,’ Holmes added macabrely. ‘But that would have left traces it would be hard for anyone to ignore. Is there attic space above us?’
We had seen the Annexe from the outside when visiting the generator-house, and we knew that it was only a single storey high, with a low-sloping roof. Speight assured us that the hollow roof space was negligible, inaccessible, and led nowhere. The room’s ceiling was as evidently unbroken as its floor.
Finally Holmes looked at the door itself, paying especial attention to the glass panel. Leading us all outside, he closed the door and invited me to peer through. I said, ‘This window distorts everything. It makes things look smaller near the edges.’
‘And thus almost the whole room may be seen through a single panel,’ Sir Newnham said. ‘A process for thickening the glass gives it lens-like properties. My own invention, of course. The glass is also extremely tough, thanks to the same manufacturing technique. These panels are practically unbreakable.’
‘This one was recently refitted, though,’ Holmes noted, peering at the putty around its edges.
Rhyne looked rather impressed. ‘Around a month ago, yes. One of our subjects had a rather disagreeable reaction to being locked in, and while I was fetching the keys from Sir Newnham he tried to smash the door down with a chair. As Sir Newnham says, these windows are hard to break, but it was rather badly scratched. Why the chap didn’t mention his claustrophobia beforehand, I can’t imagine.’
By shutting one of us at a time in the room and trying out different positions, we confirmed that there was no space in the room, even in the nearest corners, where a person might stand altogether unobserved. The special properties of the glass meant that even when lying along the floor at the bottom of the door-frame, a person’s body could still be seen from above.
‘From the point of view of a smaller man,’ Holmes told me as I emerged from taking my turn lying on the floor, ‘you might perhaps have been foreshortened to the point of invisibility, but we could all see you perfectly. How tall are Garforth and Bradbury?’
‘Not short,’ said Rhyne. ‘Bradbury’s a little below average, Garforth slightly above. But only by an inch or so.’
‘And as I understand it Kellway is bulkier than Watson, so more difficult to hide. In any case,’ Holmes added, ‘it would be easy to confirm whether a body was lying next to the door by looking underneath. There is an unusual depth of clearance, I see, almost an inch. What is the reason for that?’
‘A rather awkward mistake,’ Rhyne admitted. ‘We had to dismiss the original builders when their work was nearly done. There was some trouble with supplies going missing, and we came to feel they couldn’t be trusted. The replacement company we got in finished the job, but there was some sort of mix-up over the height of the doors. I can dig up the details if you need them.’
‘Never mind a cat – Kellway would have had to turn into a mouse or beetle to crawl under there,’ I joked.
A jacket of heather-coloured tweed still hung on the coat-hook by the door, above a pair of sturdy black shoes and a malacca cane. Holmes gathered them all up and placed them on the table in the anteroom before proceeding into Room B, which still held Speight’s ‘experimental materials’.
The table was an ordinary baize-covered card-table, and the box a brass-hinged rosewood one without additional decoration. With Speight’s permission I opened it to see the billiard ball, which was white and seemed to be made of the usual ivory, although knowing Sir Newnham it could well be some clever artificial material designed to mimic the effect.
Holmes paid these objects only cursory attention, preferring to examine a pair of shutters in the wall adjoining Room C. He ran a finger along the top of the shutters. ‘How often are these rooms cleaned?’
‘Once a week on a Friday,’ Rhyne said. ‘So, not since the experiment. The annexes are too much for the household staff to manage, of course, but there’s a small army of cleaners who come in from nearby and deal with them all in rotation. They’re paid to be exceedingly thorough.’
‘Please do not allow them in again until this matter is settled,’ said Holmes. ‘We cannot afford to miss any potential evidence.’
He opened the shutters between Rooms B and C to reveal another glass panel. This one was a plain window, with no special optical properties. ‘We use that in experiments where a line of sight is needed,’ Speight explained. ‘Some of our trial subjects claim to need to see the objects, or each other in the case of experiments in telepathy. That’s thought transference, you know,’ he added, seeing my incomprehension.
In other respects, Rooms B and C were identical with Room A, even down to the coat-hook in the wall. Holmes led us all back into the anteroom. ‘Did your subject also arrive with a coat and hat?’ he asked as he picked up Kellway’s shoes.
‘They’ll still be in the vestibule by the front door. I’ll have Anderton fetch them.’ Rhyne hurried off.
Holmes sat down at the round table, with the items in front of him. ‘The shoes are cheap but sturdy,’ he said, taking out his magnifying glass to peer closer. ‘They have been well worn, by a man with a healthy stride and an even gait. They have been resoled twice, but are in a serviceable condition. I can see no signs of any hidden compartments, or any other kind of tampering.
‘We turn to the jacket. It too is inexpensive, and is somewhat the worse for wear. A button is missing from the left sleeve and there is a tear in the lining, running nearly all the way up the seam of the back. In the pockets we have – a handkerchief, a pocket book and nothing else. Presumably his keys and coins were in his trousers pockets?’
Rhyne confirmed that they were.
‘No socks,’ said Holmes. ‘Neither in the jacket nor balled up in his shoes. What do you make of that, Watson?’
I made very little of it. ‘Perhaps he put them in his trousers pocket too?’ I speculated.
‘They would be rather bulky there, perhaps,’ said Holmes. ‘Somewhat uncomfortable while meditating. But perhaps that would not trouble an Evolved Man. And so we come to the cane,’ said Holmes, swinging it from left to right by its rounded metal handle. ‘Like the other items, it has seen better days, but retains its utility. The shaft is battered and the handle – hello, what have we here?’
Gripping the body of the stick with his other hand, he gave the handle a twist and a sharp pull, and it came away. ‘A sword-stick, I declare! Perhaps our Mr Kellway had enemies. But – ah. Here, I fear, we meet the limits of its functionality.’
The stick had indeed been a sword-stick at one time, that much was obvious. It had once had a blade mounted on a short length of cane used as a grip, which would have fitted snugly into the hollow body of the stick’s remaining wooden length, to be drawn by the bearer with a twist. That blade, though, had been broken off a mere half-inch from the hilt, leaving behind an ugly stump. With the hilt screwed into place it remained a perfectly serviceable walking stick, but as a weapon the worst it could inflict would be a shallow, jagged cut.
‘An old break, I think,’ said Holmes. ‘See how dull the exposed metal has become. Most likely Kellway bou
ght it in its current state.’
Holmes placed it with the shoes and jacket on the anteroom table, and sat to go through Kellway’s pocket book. ‘A few coins,’ he said. ‘No notes. A clip of calling cards: Thomas Kellway, The Evolved Man. There is an address in Chiswick. The cards of others – our host, Rhyne, Mr Beech, Mr Garforth, the Reverend Small… Countess Brusilova’s is in its small way a rococo masterpiece. Do these belong to other members of your Society, Sir Newnham?’
They did, apart from one from an esoteric bookseller in the Charing Cross Road and one, rather shoddily printed, from a traveller in gentlemen’s accessories. The pocket book was otherwise empty.
The coat and hat were brought in by Anderton, but Holmes’s examination of them yielded little of further interest. Their quality and age were of a piece with Kellway’s other belongings, and the pockets of the coat contained only gloves and the cheapest model of Speight’s Super-Collapsible Pocket Umbrella.
‘It seems little enough,’ I mused, ‘to be left behind by a man capable of miracles.’
‘And yet suggestive,’ Holmes replied. ‘What do you conclude from it all, Watson?’
I considered. ‘The impression it gives is of a frugal man, but a prudent one. Where a repair was necessary he seems to have made it, but otherwise he didn’t consider it a priority. Someone might wear a jacket with a torn lining for years, for instance, but worn-down shoes can be disastrous for the feet. It doesn’t look as if he intended to use the sword-stick as a weapon – if so, he would have replaced the blade. Presumably he bought it because it was cheap and still functioned as a walking stick. Perhaps some of the other items are also second-hand. His belongings show him as a man of limited means, then, whose professional asceticism made a virtue out of necessity.’
Rather pleased with myself for thinking of all of this, I finished, ‘That isn’t to say that the picture they paint is an accurate one, of course. If Kellway is a fraudster, all of this might be the impression he hoped to cultivate.’
‘Persuasive, Watson,’ Holmes said, ‘quite persuasive. And yet I wonder. You called Kellway a fine physical specimen, Sir Newnham. Would he have needed a walking stick?’
‘Now you put it that way, it does seem a bit odd,’ Sir Newnham agreed. ‘And he’s not the sort of fellow to carry one for appearance’s sake.’
‘Even if he did,’ said Holmes, ‘it is unusual that he would take it with him after surrendering his coat and hat, when embarking on an activity for which even shoes were superfluous. Sir Newnham, with your permission I will take these items back with me to Baker Street for further consideration.’
‘By all means,’ Speight said. ‘If you’re finished here, I’ll have Anderton lock up the Annexe.’
‘Please leave it open for the time being,’ said Holmes. ‘With your permission I may wish to return later. In fact, may I see outside?’
Anderton unlocked the external door and we stepped outside, to see the nearby flotation tanks and farther away a summerhouse, a remnant of the time when the grounds were laid out for pleasure rather than for Speight’s work. Not far beyond it lay the high wall that surrounded the grounds. In answer to a question from Holmes, Rhyne named the street that lay beyond it.
We returned to the main house along the narrow corridors of lawn. Back in his study, Sir Newnham filled a Speight’s Self-Igniting Tinder-Pipe, and Holmes and I took out our regular models. Rhyne smoked a cigarette.
Rhyne showed Holmes the rota for observation of the experiment on Thomas Kellway, which he studied carefully. ‘Who would have been aware of the information on this paper?’ he asked.
‘It was distributed to all the members of the Society, whether or not they were to take part,’ Rhyne confirmed. ‘Oh, and Kellway had a copy, of course.’
‘Commendably well-organised,’ said Holmes. ‘And who in fact attended the grand locking-in of Mr Kellway?’
Rhyne took the list from him and peered at it. ‘Everyone named here, apart from Lord Jermaine, Giles McInnery and Freddie Garforth. Countess Brusilova was there, too, with her companion Miss Casimir – they’d taken rooms for the night at the Star and Garter Hotel, to avoid sleeping in a houseful of gentlemen. The Countess has views on such things, or at least Miss Casimir maintains that she has. The Countess is not an easy person to communicate with, unless one is a spirit of some kind.’
‘So these other observers arrived at the house later?’
‘Yes. Jermaine and McInnery turned up together at around ten o’clock – they’d shared a cab from town – and Garforth later still, I think.’
‘And in the morning? Who else arrived for breakfast to discover that the experiment had had no definite conclusion?’
‘Let me see… Dr Kingsley spent the night at his own house, and in the morning he was called out to attend a patient, but all the other observers stayed the night. The Countess and Miss Casimir rejoined us, and Mr Felix Herrisham and Lord St Andrews came too. They’re newish members who Mr Floke introduced.’
‘A full house for breakfast, then,’ I said. ‘I hope Anderton was not too tired from his nocturnal observations.’
‘We were all rather in shock, Anderton included,’ Sir Newnham replied gravely, ‘but I have a large and competent staff and they were able to take care of the matter.’
‘What is the full membership of the Society?’ Holmes asked.
Rhyne said readily, ‘We have seventy-eight members at present, but about half of those are members primarily by correspondence. Some live abroad. Others are rarely in town.’
‘I shall need to speak to Major Bradbury, Mr Garforth and Anderton, of course,’ Holmes noted. ‘Also, I think, to the other members of your Committee, particularly Mr Beech.’
‘And what do you mean to say to Mr Beech, you impertinent dabbler?’ asked a new voice from the doorway, one with an Irish brogue and a distinctly confrontational tone.
At the same moment Anderton announced, in an apologetic voice, ‘Mr Beech is here, Sir Newnham.’
The Daily Gazette
5th March 1894
THE OLD BAILEY: The third day of the trial of Mabel Garman, on the charge of the murder of her husband, Alfred, saw the calling of the celebrated inventor Sir Newnham Speight as a witness.
Sir Newnham’s polymathic expertise has been of service to the courts on many similar occasions in the past, in both criminal trials and civil cases, and on subjects as diverse as chemistry, ballistics, optics, telegraphy and maritime navigation. On this occasion he was required to give an account of the operation of the Speight’s Original Automated Steam-Mangle which Garman had bought for his wife, and by which he met his grisly end.
With the aid of a Mangle of his own, which required several strong men to manhandle into the court, Sir Newnham first explained the principles by which the device works, which are hydraulic in nature, and then demonstrated the workings of the mechanism.
Asked whether such a machine could cause a person’s death, the witness replied, ‘Oh, certainly. The forces involved are sufficient to crush the human frame.’
COUNSEL FOR THE DEFENCE (Sir Joseph Garville, Q.C.): You do not consider it irresponsible to manufacture and sell a device that can end the life of a fellow human being?
WITNESS: No more so in this case than in that of a kitchen knife or a croquet mallet. There are very few items that may not be used as a weapon if one is sufficiently ingenious.
COUNSEL: But you will allow that the scope for accident is greater in the case of an item that can exert crushing forces?
WITNESS: I believe not, provided the device is used wisely and responsibly. As with a knife or mallet, the user has a duty to be aware of the risk of harm and to modify their practices accordingly.
COUNSEL: Sir Newnham, you have heard my client’s testimony. She contends that, being naturally concerned that the new acquisition might leak oil onto her clean linen, she asked her husband to check the rollers; following which, the mangle unexpectedly started working, trapping his hand and eventuall
y crushing him to death. Would that not qualify as an accident for which the manufacturer might accept a share of responsibility?
WITNESS: It would indeed, which is why the Automated Steam-Mangle is designed to prevent all possibility of such an accident. The operator must simultaneously press upon a pedal and pull a lever to begin the working of the mechanism; if the pedal is released it ceases at once. This causes some restriction of movement when feeding items into the machine, but we considered this preferable to compromising the safety of the operator. Furthermore, the boiler must have been set to warm for at least ten minutes before it builds up a sufficient head of steam to turn the rollers. If somebody meets their death in one of my mangles, it requires careful forethought on the part of another.
A sensation ensued in the court, and several members of the public had to be removed. The witness was dismissed without further questions. The trial continues.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘Mr Gideon Beech, I presume,’ said Holmes calmly.
‘A staggering conclusion, laddie,’ Beech smirked, ‘given that Anderton there just told you my name. I expect you’ll be astounding us all with your deduction that I’m a celebrated playwright next. I must say this is the first I’ve heard of you taking an interest in psychic phenomena, Mr Holmes.’
The famed controversialist was a tweed-suited man, thin as a sapling, with dark, intense eyes, a sardonic mouth and a somewhat Mephistophelean beard. He was perhaps forty years of age, and certainly had no business to be calling Holmes ‘laddie’. Behind him stood another, paler and younger man, with an obstinate set to his chin and green, haunted eyes.
‘I confess I could say the same to you, Mr Beech,’ Holmes replied. ‘Evidently we both have unexpected depths. I look forward to our interview with some anticipation. In the meantime—’
Sherlock Holmes--The Vanishing Man Page 4
