AN: Prompt at end of story.
The Case of the Liddell Treasure
It was midafternoon on the ninth of December. I had just stepped down from a hansom and was collecting the packages of Christmas gifts I had purchased when I noticed someone step up behind me. Suspecting they were wanting to patronize the cab, I glanced over my shoulder, intending to tell them I would be only a moment. To my delight, I recognized Stanley Hopkins, the young inspector from Scotland Yard Holmes had become so interested in.
"Would you like a hand, Doctor?" he asked.
"No thank you. They aren't heavy," I said, lifting the stacked packages and stepping away from the cab. "How have you been, Inspector?"
"I am well, Doctor," he said but his expression told me not all was well.
"Here to see Holmes?" I asked, turning to our front door.
"I am," he said, hurrying to join me. He reached for the doorknob, asking, "Allow me?"
Inside, we ascended the stairs to my flat. Before we reached the door, it swung open and Holmes smiled out at us.
"Hello Watson," said he. "I thought I recognized your tread upon the stair, Hopkins. Come in, won't you?"
I bustled up to my room to deposit my packages and returned to the sitting room where Holmes was offering Hopkins a cigarette from his silver case. We three exchanged pleasantries for a moment, finding our seats in the process.
"Now, Hopkins, by your demeanor I perceive you are having some difficulty," said Holmes.
"I am, Mr. Holmes. It's a peculiar situation. I've caught the thief. I have yet to find what was stolen."
"Indeed?" said Holmes, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Is this the Liddell case?"
"Unfortunately," Hopkins confirmed.
"The jewel theft?" I asked. "I read about it in the papers. How on Earth did you apprehend the thief so quickly?"
"A moment, Watson," interrupted Holmes. "Hopkins, forgive me, but please let us have it in the correct order. Start at the beginning in case the papers left something out."
"Of course, sir." Hopkins reached into his pocket and produced his customary notebook. More so than the other Yarders, Hopkins seemed to rely on detailed notes. "After dinner on the evening of the second, Lady Liddell went into the library intending to play her pianoforte. Lord Liddell and their oldest son were in the drawing room, enjoying brandy and cigars. Lady Liddell says she noticed something not quite right about the bookshelf beside the fireplace and went to investigate. As it happens, certain books were out of order, so she called her husband in to be sure she was not imagining things. Lord Liddell saw right away his wife was correct and removed the books to examine the small wall safe concealed behind them. He retrieved the safe key from his bedchamber and opened the safe. As the papers reported, some of Lady Liddell's jewelry was missing. Left behind were five thousand pounds of Bank of England notes and a gem studded silver tiara. Missing were a diamond studded silver necklace, one silver ring mounting a large sapphire, a gold brooch with a large Indian ruby surrounded by small emeralds, three gold rings, one of which mounted a large diamond while the other two held rubies, and one pair of diamond studded silver earrings. Approximate total value of fifty thousand pounds."
"What type of safe was it?" Holmes asked keenly.
"An Adams model 64."
"A 64?" Holmes's expression was a mixture of shock and disgust.
"Is that bad, Holmes?" I asked, knowing little of safes.
"I once opened a 64 with a bent fork, Watson," said my friend, shaking his head in bemusement.
"To be fair, Mr. Holmes, it was Lord Liddell's grandfather that had the safe installed," said Hopkins.
"That is no excuse." Homes stared at our fire a moment before saying, "You have kept excellent notes, Inspector. What else can you tell us?"
"Well, sir, when Lord Liddell understood the magnitude of the crime, he acted decisively. I do not know if I can say he acted wisely, though." Hopkins turned a page and narrowed his eyes on what he had written. "Lord Liddell rounded up his staff and ordered them all to wait in the kitchen. He then selected his groom to saddle a horse and ride into the village to summon the police. A telegram was sent and I was dispatched to oversee the case."
"Seems a perfectly reasonable course to me," I observed.
"I believe the inspector was thinking that allowing the thief to believe he had got away with the crime until the police arrived might have been a better course, Watson," said Holmes. "Corralling the servants in the manner described would give the thief time to concoct an alibi."
"Just so, Mr. Holmes." Hopkins scanned his notes and continued, "Upon arriving I ordered the constables to prevent the staff leaving the house. I then examined the safe. What I found was a scratch in the paint beside the keyhole an inch long. There were other scratches, but this one was fresh. I then dusted for fingerprints. The thief had wiped the safe door clean. I found only a few useless smudges there. Apparently, he did not realize fingerprints could be lifted from paper for I found a clear impression of a right thumb on the top of the stack of notes and all four fingers of the right hand on the bottom of the stack. Additionally, I found one useable print from a right index finger and one from a left pinky finger on the inside back and right wall of the safe, respectively."
"I presume you took prints from the staff," said Holmes.
"I did. From the staff and the family." Hopkins's expression turned rueful. "Imagine my surprise when I determined none of them matched the prints found in the safe."
"Most curious," Holmes said and leaned forward, elbows supporting his weight on the arms of the chair.
"Was it a burglary?" I asked.
"I was all but certain it was not." Hopkins closed his notebook and tucked it away. "As you know, Doctor, it snowed steadily on the thirtieth of November and sporadically on the first of December. Examining the windowsills showed that none of the windows had been opened. Likewise, the doors were mostly unused. The front door, of course, had been, as the portico had been swept clear of snow. The kitchen door had also been opened several times, which is to be expected. But, the outer door of the servants' quarters had not been. Nor had the outer door of the conservatory. A burglar rarely enters by the front door and given the amount of activity at all hours in the kitchen, that route seemed unlikely."
"The snow was your friend in this case," said Holmes.
"It made things easier for a change," Hopkins said, smiling. "As I said, the prints I had taken matched none of the servants or any of the family members. It was only then I was informed there was another person in the home. He had not been included among the servants because he was brought in as a sort of employee. Man's name is Thomas Tremblay. A botanist."
"Tremblay?" Holmes said. The expression on my friend's face was uncharacteristically surprised.
"You know him, Mr. Holmes?" asked the inspector.
"Only through his monographs on rare plants," said Holmes.
"Tremblay?" I said. "Is he the man who recently accompanied Professor Challenger on his expedition to New Guinea in search of some sort of flying reptile?"
"He is, Doctor." Hopkins nodded.
"I read about it in the National Geographic," I said. "A most harrowing adventure. Headhunters, snakes and all manner of dangers."
"The man does not lack for courage, Watson," Holmes said, nodding. "He has been around the world in quest of his passion. From darkest Africa to the foothills of the Himalayas. A Canadian, he finances his ventures by befriending wealthy patrons and providing his services to them."
"That was his reason for being at the manor," Hopkins said. "He was preparing for a new expedition to South America. Lord Liddell had taken him on temporarily to tend and propagate the rare plants in his conservatory. Before inheriting his title, Lord Liddell was something of a well-traveled man himself and he shared a passion for rare plants with Tremblay."
"And it was Tremblay's fingerprints you found inside the safe?" I asked.
"It was." Hopkins flicked the butt of his cigarette into the fire and sat back, a grim expression on his face. "I have no doubt he committed the theft. A believe we could convict him on the evidence we have, but there is a possibility he could wriggle out of it. He has noteworthy friends and a word from one or two of them might see him back on the street as free as could be."
Holmes frowned in thought and leaned back in his chair. Abruptly, he rose and went to the shelf where he kept his commonplace books. Selecting one volume and then another, he quickly scanned certain articles. Hopkins gave me a curious look and I held up a finger, cautioning him to silence.
"March 1881, Douglas Newcomb of Ontario, Canada had twenty-five thousand pounds worth of jewels stolen from his home. May of the same year, Thomas Tremblay departed for Borneo. June 1883, Lady Wilhelmina Bossart had fifteen thousand pounds worth of rare jade ornaments stolen from her home. August of that year, Thomas Tremblay sailed for India." Holmes shut the books and looked at us, that familiar gleam of the hunter in his eyes. "As you gentlemen know, I keep a record of all major crimes that go unsolved. There are several other such cases and I would wager a tidy sum that they all correspond with expeditions undertaken by Thomas Tremblay."
"Well and good, Mr. Holmes," said Hopkins. "That might sway a jury if we can connect Tremblay with those thefts. I have him for this theft, but I haven't got enough evidence to guarantee a conviction. Not without the jewels."
"Watson, get your coat!" cried Holmes, dashing for his room.
Less than two hours later we entered the Liddell home and after introductions Holmes requested we be conducted to the conservatory.
"Don't you want to see the safe, Holmes?" I asked.
"No, Watson. There is no point in examining the crime scene. I am not in search of clues. I am in search of the jewels."
Lord Liddell himself escorted us to the conservatory.
"Gentlemen, this is my collection," he said, swinging open the double doors and reaching to turn up the gas. It had the effect of dawn breaking in a tropic wood. Flowering plants the like I had not before seen sprouted from pots of all sizes. A pair of shrubs with blue striped leaves flanked the outside door. At the far end of the glass enclosed room stood a tree with bark like spines. It seemed an alien world. Lord Liddell said, "If you could avoid disturbing my plants, gentlemen, I would be grateful. However, I understand it may be necessary, so I ask that you do as little damage as possible."
"Thank you Lord Liddell," said Holmes, stepping over the threshold. "Watson, Hopkins, best if you remain here while I examine the benches."
I stood beside the inspector and the master of the house as Holmes stepped carefully over the flagged floor. He stopped briefly to pry at the drain in the middle of the room, satisfying himself it had not been opened before moving on. I saw him stop and narrow his eyes upon something hidden from me by a broad-leafed plant of some kind.
"Lord Liddell, can you tell me about these plants?" Holmes asked.
We accompanied the nobleman to where Holmes stood and discovered a potting bench with all of the usual tools and necessities. On the bench sat three plants in small clay pots and one very large empty pot, a scattering of dark soil surrounding them.
"These, Mr. Holmes?" Lord Liddell said. "All three were contained in the large pot. Thomas Tremblay suggested separating them to allow the plants to grow larger. He expressed his admiration for them, saying he did not have an example of this species in his own collection and I told him he could take one in partial payment for his services."
"And which would he have taken, Lord Liddell?" Holmes asked, eyeing the plants intently.
"Any of them. I cared not, as long as I had two to display."
Holmes reached out and lifted one pot and then another, examining the undersides and feeling the soil with his dexterous fingers.
"I believe you will forgive me, Lord Liddell," said Holmes and pulled one of the plants from its pot, spilling dark soil across the workbench. In amongst the soil were gleams of white, red and palest blue. Gems and gold winked in the gas light as Holmes carefully set the uprooted plant aside and raked his fingers slowly through rich smelling earth.
"My wife's jewelry!" ejaculated Lord Liddell. "You've found it."
"Why did I not think to look here myself?" Hopkins groaned.
"You will gain experience, Hopkins. I am sure of it," said Holmes encouragingly.
We were pleased to help our young friend and restore the stolen jewelry to Lord and Lady Liddell. Holmes refused any payment from the nobleman but a few days later a large box arrived. Inside, sheltered from the winter cold, was the very plant Holmes had uprooted to find the stolen treasure. It now sits on a small table near the fireplace in Holmes's room where it can get as much sunlight as our flat can provide while keeping it warm.
Prompt from Hades Lord of the Dead: Transplant