Sherlock Holmes

and the adventure of

The Conjurers Trick

Part 4

The following morning I rose, tired and weary after a restless nights sleep, and staggering into the bright and glaring light of our sitting room, I noticed a number of the mornings papers lay out across the place, covering much of the floor and sofa accompanied by the pungent smell of strong, stale tobacco smoke which lingered in the air. It had become apparent that Holmes had barely moved from the spot in which I left him the previous evening, and instead involved himself in one of his deep thinking, meditative, all night vigils. Throwing a pile of papers from my chair I relapsed back into the spot when last we spoke, rang the bell for breakfast to be served and began to read one of the news papers that were to hand.

'I just can't make heads of tails of it, Watson.' Holmes seemed to answer to a question which although was on my mind, had not yet been verbalized. 'I have exhausted every rat, confederate, busybody and criminal associate I know of, along with my entire supply of fine shag, but I've heard not a single hint as to a stolen illusion. From what it seems, this whole investigation has been an illusion in itself. However, although it seems less and less likely to be a theft, no other theory stands. Still, my mind stagnates with inactivity and I stand by what I have said in the past. The most stimulating a case, is often that where by everything works against you. Mark my words, Watson, I shall have my man.'

'You know what it is that I think of your excessive consumption of tobacco along with your lack of food and sleep.' I murmured from behind my paper. 'Perhaps with a little of some and less of the other you will have a breath of fresh air to your senses.

'My dear Watson, you mean well but these have been my habits for many a year before we made each others acquaintance and they have proven time and time again to be effective. Besides, I'd never forgive myself if a key point were to arise and I was away in my dreams.'

'I assumed you dreamt crime.' I joked.

'So I do,' chuckled Holmes, 'So I do.'

Mrs Hudson had brought in the breakfast which I happily indulged myself with along with Holmes, although one could hardly say he ate enough to sustain the average man. He picked away at his eggs and ham, half nibbling some toast but mostly pushed his food about the plate like a child who had no interest in it at all. It appeared as though our day was to be a quiet one after all, of patient waiting. However, it seemed destined to change rapidly. Mrs Hudson had barely cleared our breakfast before we heard the undeniably heavy, fast paced step of Inspector Lestrade climbing our stair. A moment later the door was opened as he excused himself into our chamber.

'Morning Lestrade,' announced Sherlock Holmes. 'Surely you're not here for more information on the Ferguson brothers forgery case. No, you look far too flustered for that. Prey, take the spare space on the sofa and catch you breath. Don't mind my nest of papers. Can we ring for a late breakfast for you?'

'Thank you Mr Holmes but I mustn't.' Panted the inspector as he leant forward with his arms on his knees drawing in long deep breaths. 'I've come direct to you this morning from a most singular and sinister scene, hence the state in which you see me.'

'Whatever can it be?' I interrupted.

Lestrade, recovering more and more by the minute sat back on the sofa and picking up a folded paper, began to fan himself. 'It began for me this morning when upon arriving at the precinct there was a telegraph waiting upon my desk. It had arrived not long before I from what I was told by the clerk. When I opened it I knew at once that you should be inevitably consulted.' For a moment it seemed, the inspector lowered his guard and showed an honest appreciation for my friends gifts. Quickly he recomposed himself, 'I mean to say that it occurred to me that you would be a likely person to consult, considering your extensive knowledge of the unique and bizarre when it comes to crime and criminality.'

'Indeed I am.' Replied Holmes, humouring the detective. 'Before you continue, do you by chance have the telegram at hand?'

The inspector drew a slightly discoloured, crumpled piece of folded paper from his inner most pocket and proceeded to toss it across to my friend. It read as follows:

Inspector Lestrade. Come at once to Temple Pier. Corpse found washed up and stuffed into a trunk. Excavation of trunk in progress. Constable Jacobs

'Hallo, hallo!' ejaculated Holmes in a start. 'Why, Watson, what did I tell you. Patients was all we needed for the single clue to find its way to us and shines a light on the whole situation. I'll admit not by any means of my own, but a critical clue none the less.'

'What ever do you mean?' I replied in amazed confusion. 'You don't mean to say that you know all simply from these few words?'

'I will admit, not all, but enough to begin to take action. This single telegram has made all other theories obsolete while at the same time confirming only one. I will assume that you too, Watson, have come to the same conclusion that I have in that this telegram speaks of our missing man. I'd say that this certainly refutes any theory of theft, after all, why discard of the object which was wanted, and with the thief inside nonetheless. No, no. I am sure of it.'

Lestrade had sat stunned to silence for a good few minutes while my companion and I had been jolted into our investigation once more. His shock turned to confusion which in turn shifted to irritation until finally he burst in.

'What is all this?' He interrupted. 'I come to you for some council and instead I am ignored while the two of you talk as though you are a days work ahead of me. What is it that you know which I don't and how have you come to know it?'

'Ah Lestrade, I apologize. You know my ways and you must forgive my ignoring you for you know I mean no offence. You are one of the sharpest minds at the yard but if you feel as though we are a days work ahead of you, it is because we are a days work ahead of you. I myself have been on the scent of this man since yesterday afternoon, and this in most certainly my man.'

The inspector sat up in a start. 'How do you know of this man then, and why is it that you are already investigating him? Or a better yet, how can you be so certain that this is in fact your man, for I have yet to tell you anything of what I found when I arrived at the scene. Surely you are getting far too bold and over confident in your abilities Mr Holmes.'

'Tell me, Lestrade, was this man you found stuffed into a chest by any chance, a dwarf?'

I have never seen a look so ridged with astonishment in me life as that which was represented upon our guests face that moment. 'With his feet protruding from holes cut into the side?' Holmes added with an ever increasing grin.

'What devilry is this you are playing with Mr Holmes!' Exclaimed Lestrade. 'This is without a doubt, other worldly.'

Rarely have I witnessed Holmes laugh with such deep and genuine laughter which I too would have taken part in at our guests expense had I also not slightly been taken in by this fantastic development. 'My dear Lestrade, all shall be revealed in due course, but for now let me hear what is is you observed down by the pier.'

The inspector composed himself, shifted his position on the sofa and lit a cigarette, which with several deep puffs seemed to restore himself to the direct man that he is known to be. He then drew a scruffy notebook from his coat pocket and began to run through all of his findings upon his systematic inspection of the scene. From the protruding feet to the unique and flamboyant construction of the chest, finally ending upon a thorough description of the dwarf-like man within and how he suspected that he met his end by drowning. I shan't bore you with the details of the deceased as Holmes himself seemed to care little of his appearance. In fact he casually nodded along to the facts as they came out one by one as though he were already familiar with each of them. The only time in which he appeared to show any kind of intrigue was when Lestrade described the man as having a peaceful expression, something that struck myself odd also as from my knowledge, drowning is seldom a peaceful way to leave this world.

'So he drugged him.' Muttered Holmes.

'That is what I had suspected also,' replied the inspector, 'How else would he have ended up inside of a chest which was to be dumped into the river not to mention his final expression?'

Sherlock Holmes then proceeded to enlighten Lestrade as to how we came into the game for this missing man, albeit a heavily cherry picked account of the original case as stated to us by Mr Andrews. The three of us then spent several minutes mulling over all that had just occurred until finally the silence was broken.

'Well now, Inspector,' started Holmes as he rose from his chair with renewed energy after his sleepless night, 'I'd say that it's about time we got caught our fish.'

'And how do you suppose we do that? As I see it we're no closer to finding the man who put the dwarf in the box then we were before I arrived.'

'My dear Lestrade, you are forgetting that I am, as you put it, a day ahead of you, and so already have much of the information you so sorely need. If you trust me as well as you have done in the past, I can give you this man by lunchtime today. If you would be so kind as to nip back to the station and while there, collect a hand full of strong armed officers before returning to our rooms in an hour. This fellow will be a desperate and possibly unpredictable man who if we allow, will be away from us with little trouble. This interval will allow myself and Dr Watson some time to prepare. Prey, do have this note wired to Mr Andrews at the Adelphi Theatre while you are passing the telegraph office. It shall have them ready for when we arrive.'

At this point Lestrade left us, leaving myself to prepare for an adventurous and possibly dangerous day ahead. Holmes sat for a while longer in deep thought although now he seemed less serious in his expression which told me that his fish was on the hook, ready to be reeled in. He only spoke once.

'Watson, it might be worthwhile to pocket your revolver for this mornings business.'