So, last update before my, presumably rather short, break. I am working on a new case already for Mr and Mrs Holmes and at last got around to write a follow up on 'In the care of a lady', so sometime soon Henrik Sigerson is on a new case as well, this time in Egypt. But to write that AND a new case for our dear couple here is a bit too time-consuming at the moment, so unfortunately you will have to bear with me. There are a couple of other stories as well that are on queue, meaning that even while I take a break from this series, you should hear from me fairly soon.
So, please leave me your feedback, any ideas for a teenage_Sherlock are also welcome as I am still not sure whether I should undertake such an endeavour.
Hope you enjoy the new installment, have a great week,
Love
Nic
The needle in a haystack - Part 6
Sherlock:
While Harriet got ready to go to Scotland Yard, I changed my own respectable self to a handy man, quickly drank a cup of coffee down in the kitchen for the sake of my wife and then left for the City, where later I would meet with Inspector Gregson. Again and again, I turned the facts over in my mind, but always coming to the same scandalous conclusion. I took the underground, changed trains at Oxford Circus and then went on to alight the train at St. Paul's to walk up Wood Street from whence I turned into Love Lane. Finding No. 9 I had a good look around and found exactly what I have been searching for. The shute to the coal cellar had only recently been used and by something more bulky and heavy than loose coal. The snow which lay all around, blackened by the coal dust from the thousands of chimneys and fireplaces, had been pressed together and into an ice sheet, the scratches left by the crates clearly visible. Glancing around I found that from the street this place was well covered and most of the adjacent rooms were offices anyway and though occupied at this time of day there was little risk of me being seen sliding down the slope and prying open the simple wooden door at its bottom. Wedging my rugged looking scarf around the cast iron fence, so I could get back up, later on, I made my way down and opened the latch with which the door was fastened on the inside with the help of my old trusted penknife. There, well hidden from the main entrance to the coal cellar, half covered by the heaps of coal I found the crates, neatly stacked and otherwise untouched. Making use of my set of lock picks I managed to open one of them, finding it was as yet untouched and all the gold within. So far so good.
I went back to Baker Street, changed to my more respectable self and took a Hansom towards the city, this time alighting at the City Polices headquarters in Wood Street, where I met with Inspector Gregson, who was impatiently pacing up and down the side walk, waiting for me. Admittedly, I was a good ten minutes late, but to wash off the coal dust from my face had been somewhat of a challenge as it seemed to stick to every pore.
"Holmes, I have just come from the Commissioner and he is not happy at all. Simmons gets impatient for us to solve this," he said, without as much as greeting me, which showed just how wound up he was.
"As a matter of fact, Gregson, I would like to speak to Commissioner Simmons myself. If you could lead me to him, please." I replied, trying not to sound too nervous myself.
"Have you any news?" Gregson enquired curiously. "You cannot believe how shocked Simmons was to hear about Sir Frederic's death. Now it is personal for him. I think I have told you already that they knew each other and..."
"Frequented the same club. Yes, you did. Yes, I have news. I have actually solved the mystery. But if the Commissioner will be any happier after I have spoken to him, I highly doubt."
Lighting a cigarette I leaned against the door frame, in an attempt to calm my own nerves before the big finale.
xxx
Harriet:
When I arrived at the autopsy room, Doctor Bell was already busy opening the body and quickly I reached for the leather apron behind the door again to have a closer look as to what was going on. Bell greeted me with a curt nod and pointed at a notepad and pencil at the foot end of the polished stone slab.
"I had not expected you to be so early, Doctor Holmes," he mumbled as he pulled aside the flaps of skin to reveal internal body cavities.
"Looks healthy." I remarked, "Aside from perhaps the liver, which seems slightly enlarged."
Chuckling Bell agreed.
"By the way, we know now who he is. I found a note lying on my desk this morning."
"I know, I put it there," I replied. "It is Sir Frederic Belmont. Director of the Bank of England."
"I see you have been busy. Good."
"Yes, my husband remarked last evening that Sir Frederic had gone missing and this man seemed to fit the profile of a bank director quite well. We came here with Inspector Gregson, formerly member of the Metropolitan Police, now with the London City Police and he identified the man." I explained.
"Ah, I remember Tobias Gregson. Good man that. Though never got along with our superintendent. Then again, he can be a piece of work. By the way, I looked through your report on the Saunderson-case. Well done, Doctor. Though I doubt Inspector Jones will appreciate it, that he has to start all over again. He'll come down later."
James sawed open the thorax and Bell began to tale out the dead man's inner organs, putting them down on a side table with a high rimmed steel top, making it look like some kind of macabre tea tray while the whole of the thorax cavity was filled with congealed blood.
Examining the heart Bell pointed at the right ventricle which had been distinctly pierced. It was not a big cut, but large enough to cause a fairly quick death.
"The wound looks quite clean, does it not?" I asked when Mr James had drained the blood from the body.
"Yes, astonishingly neat in fact. It must have been a very sharp object."
Reaching for the magnifying glass I bend over to have a closer look at the marks the blade had left on the ribs. Something struck me as odd and trying to picture what would be a normal angle at which a man would be stabbed I realised that the killer must have been left-handed. Then the piece of fibre I had found in the wound came to mind.
"Oh, that can happen quite easily even with a sharp knife," Bell told me when I enquired whether there was a difference between sharp blades and blunt ones. "But I dare say it is a good indicator that the weapon had only one blade and not two."
"So, no dagger." I smiled grimly.
"No, no dagger but a sharp knife. The back of the knife can easily drag in some fibre, while the blade end usually won't. - Unless it is very blunt, of course. But in this instance, we have already established that that is not the case. Quite the contrary, actually. The edge is really incredibly smooth, it caused no noteworthy haematoma."
I finished my notes and send a message to Inspector Gregson's office to inform him about our findings – and Sherlock as well. I had just finished, when a bulky man with almost no neck and a pudgy face entered the morgue, looking none too pleased.
"What is that, Doctor Bell, about this nonsense with the Saunderson-Case? I tell you, there was nothing fishy about it!" he growled.
"Well, as it is, Inspector Jones, your Superintendent as well as I and Doctor Holmes here are of a different opinion."
"Who the deuce is Doctor Holmes?" here he glanced around, avoiding to look at me purposely. "Relation of Sherlock Holmes? Bloody know it all."
"If I remember it correctly he has helped you out repeatedly," Bell remarked with a grin. "And as for your other questions, this here is Doctor Harriet Holmes, or Mrs Sherlock Holmes, if you like."
Inspector Jones stared at me aghast, then, at last, broke out into a broad grin: "Mrs Sherlock Holmes? Does that mean that eventually there will be another generation of Holmes' to annoy the official police force? I am sorry for having been so rude, but our new superintendent has a way about him that does not exactly lift one's mood."
"So I have heard. No offence taken." I assured, reaching out my hand. "Pleased to meet you."
xxx
Sherlock:
On our way to the Commissioner, a constable stopped us, waving a telegram.
"Urgent message for you, Sir." he cried out as he hurried towards my companion.
"Well, I doubt this will help us. Apparently, Sir Frederic has been killed by a left-handed person." Gregson remarked when he had read the note, handing it over to me.
There I disagreed with him. I found it highly valuable information, after all, the majority of the population was right handed and much more had been trained to be right-handed, so knowing we had to look for a left-handed man was valuable information indeed.
xxx
"Enter!" A harsh voice sounded from within when we knocked on the Commissioner's door.
Simmons sat behind his desk, pen in hand as he wrote a letter. - His right hand.
"Ah, you again," he said coldly when he saw Gregson, who visibly shrank back from the stony glare he was given. "And Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I presume?"
I nodded in acquiescence.
"Well, I have told Inspector Gregson here already, that I am not very pleased about your involvement. It seems a bit silly for an inspector to ask for unofficial help, does it not?"
"Pardon me, but there I cannot agree," I replied, looking around the spacious office with the well-polished furniture. "It is a sign of wisdom to know one's own limits after all."
Simmons just huffed and carried on writing, before folding and sealing the note and ringing the bell for it to be delivered to its recipient. Carefully I watched the man and again found what I had been looking for and everything fell into place. I had my man!
"Personally I would also feel uncomfortable, if I lived with the knowledge of having committed a crime – or actually two." I smiled grimly.
The commissioner threw down his pen, which he had picked up again, and jumped up from his chair, his cold eyes glaring at me.
"Be careful of what you are implying, Mr. Holmes!" he all but snarled.
"I would not make such assumptions, if I were not absolutely certain, Sir Henry."
Gregson stared at both of us, open-mouthed, unable to believe what was going on. Poor man!
"One more word, and I have you removed from this building and send to prison, Mr. Holmes."
"On what grounds?" I enquired calmly, sitting down on one of the visitor's chairs.
"Does it matter on what grounds? You come in here and make the most horrendous assumptions, slandering my name in front of one of my men, is that not grounds enough?" Simmons thundered.
"Hardly," I replied suavely, leaning back and lighting another cigarette.
"Inspector, remove this individual from my office this instant!" he ordered Gregson.
But Tobias Gregson did not move, instead he closed the door behind him and leaned against it, blocking the single entrance to the commissioner's office.
"I am sorry, Sir, but Mr Holmes is hardly ever wrong and thinking about it, it makes actually perfect sense. You alone, aside from Lady Metcalf, the two bank directors and the clerk Mr Peabody knew about the transport beforehand. It was you, who advised Sir Frederic which route to take and it would have been easy enough for you to organise an ambush for us. Knowing full well that we would have our hands full down St. Swithin's Lane you could safely bring round the police cart, unload the crates and then have it driven back to the depot without any of us being the wiser."
"You forget yourself!" Simmons cried out angrily, though the cold sweat on his forehead told me that he was beginning to lose his composure.
"Hardly so." I remarked.
"Do you really think I would come round here and unload a cartload full of gold? And without anybody seeing me?"
"Of course not." I agreed. "But you know, it is very unlucky that it is a well-known fact that as commissioner you inhabit a flat just down Love Lane. - I had the good fortune of once having been invited by your predecessor and he told me that it came with this post. You did not come here, but went there, took out the crates, together with your accomplice, whom I would almost assume was Lady Metcalf herself, she seems the type of person enjoying such kind of thrill, slid them down the coal shute and then returned the Black Maria to where it actually belongs – the depot."
"And why would I do such a thing, Mr. Holmes?" Simmons at last asked flatly.
"Ah, well, you of course would know best. But while I assume that the lady herself was convincing enough, the money was also quite tempting. How much did she promise you?"
"You cannot prove any of this!"
"I can. The gold is still there and I would suggest, Gregson, you have a few men go and secure it before word gets out and is removed. - Though considering the amount of gold, even that will take some time. The coal chute is quite slippery after all and steep."
"You broke into my house?!" Sir Henry groaned before burying his face in his hands. "I knew it was a bad idea. I told her so."
"But you have been so bewitched by her Ladyship that you threw all caution to the wind."
"Have you met her? She is an angel."
"I have met her, but have to strongly disagree. Admittedly though, she is a very beautiful woman and she knows it and uses it to her advantage."
"Yes."
"I presume Sir Frederic found out about your machinations?"
"Yes, he confronted me about it and threatened to have me arrested. I had to act and the only way out at the time seemed to kill him."
"Was it worth it?" I could not help asking.
"No. But Mr. Holmes, have you ever been so besotted by a woman that you forgot all your principles?"
"While I have been besotted by a woman, and actually still am, no, I have never forgotten my principles over it, nor did I need to, as I had the good fortune to fall in love with an honourable woman with a good set of principles herself." I answered, my thoughts straying towards my wife.
"Then you are a luckier man than I."
Slowly Simmons got up, his arms stretched out in front of him in a pleading gesture.
"Inspector, might I ask a favour? Could you escort me to the Yard, uncuffed and in a Hansom? I will not cause any trouble, I promise, but I cannot leave here with everybody watching."
xxx
It was later in the evening that Gregson came round on his way home. He looked even more tired than he had when he had first applied for my help and exhaustedly he sat down on one of our chairs.
"How on earth did you know it was Simmons?" he asked.
"It is a maxim of mine that if you rule out all other options that what is left must be the truth, Gregson. And in this case I had ruled everyone out and the only persons left were Sir Henry and Lady Metcalf. Now the lady alone could not have managed such an undertaking, but the Commissioner could, hence he must have a hand in the crime. I then went to his house and found the gold, which I presume you have since retrieved."
Gregson nodded.
"Then we received my wife's note about the murderer being left-handed, and while Sir Henry wrote with his right, he was clearly left-handed, as he did everything else with his left."
"I did not notice."
"It almost escaped me as well." I replied, watching my wife knitting while at the same time listening intently to what was being said.
"Was Lady Metcalf arrested likewise?" she at last enquired, preceding me as I had been about to ask the same question.
"No, he would not admit to her involvement and it will be very hard to prove it without his testimony. I fear she will get away." the Inspector answered with a tired smile. "I still cannot believe it."