Holmes, Beale, Inspector Lewis and I gathered at the far end of the cemetery. Holmes was adamant that we kept our distance from the old crypt, and stayed out of sight. A light snow was falling, and a thin layer of fog had formed around our ankles. The funeral came to an end, friends and family of the deceased filing out of the cemetery as we watched from a distance. I could see my breath as a white cloud. I felt like a ghost on the outskirts of the cemetery, watching over in silence.
"You've been decidedly vague, Mr. Holmes," said Inspector Lewis. "I'm starting to lose patience."
"I don't think this will take much longer," said Holmes. "Keep your eyes on the crypt."
Half an hour passed. My fingers were growing numb, and I was beginning to fear that Holmes's experiment was a waste of precious time. I'm sure Beale and Inspector Lewis felt the same, constantly stretching and shifting weight in the cold. Beale's warm cup of coffee had long since cooled. I tried to contain my shivering. Ever since my spell of meningitis, the cold felt more biting. I hoped that Holmes's petty rivalries with Mycroft were not so extreme that he would sabotage an investigation.
"That's it. I can't wait here any longer," said Inspector Lewis. "I trusted you against my better judgement. Explain yourself in full, or I'm leaving."
"Look, didn't I say to keep your eyes on the crypt?" said Holmes. He pointed out into the foggy snow. The faint silhouette of a man was visible near the crypt entrance, slinking between gravestones.
"That's Mr. Conrad," said Beale.
"Excellent eye," said Holmes.
"What's he doing out here?" said Inspector Lewis.
"He's looking for Thomson's stolen documents," said Holmes.
"Documents?" said Inspector Lewis.
"Yes, documents," said Holmes. "You need only know that Mr. Thomson purloined a set of confidential documents before his arrival in Gravesend. Documents that are covertly sought out by foreign powers. The gunman was to be the buyer of these documents, but their dealings went awry."
"You mean Mr. Conrad is the gunman?" said Inspector Lewis. He sounded skeptical.
"Correct," said Holmes. "He was all at once the gunman, the buyer, and the German spy."
"Slow down," said Inspector Lewis. Holmes gestured for him to keep his voice down. "What's Mr. Conrad doing out here? And what does that have to do with the murder?"
"Allow me to explain, one point at a time," said Holmes. "As you aptly deduced, Mr. Beale, the gunman wore a disguise. An elaborate disguise: hat, wig, makeup, bulky overcoat. In all likelihood, his beard was false, and he could have been wearing glass lenses to alter his eye color. His blue eyes were so striking that Mrs. Albury remembered them vividly—having such a striking feature makes it difficult for people to remember the more subtle ones. In a peculiar way, I find that elaborate disguises can be revealing, as one need only imagine the inverse. I couldn't help but notice that Conrad was a perfect inverse to the gunman in several ways. Conrad is relatively young. He has short blond hair, and little facial hair. His eyes are a muddy dark brown. Sometimes a disguise is so elaborate that it exposes the wearer's true appearance in negative form.
"My suspicions grew when Conrad lied to us. Recall our first meeting with him on the stairs. There was a thick Persian rug covering the floor between Conrad's room and the top of the stairs. You heard the floorboards creaking above us, yes? If he had come straight to us from his room, like he claimed, then his steps would have been more muffled. No, he came from down the third-floor hallway.
"I certainly didn't trust him, but I wasn't certain of his involvement in the murder. I needed to test my theory. Fortunately, Conrad approached me and Watson earlier this morning, under the guise of wanting help with his crossword puzzle. A daring gambit, trying to sneak information out of us directly. I mentioned to Conrad that Thomson had been spotted near the old crypt before his death. If my theory was legitimate, then Conrad would deduce that Thomson hid the documents in the crypt. He would be desperate to break in before the manhunt caught up with him, and before we discovered the documents ourselves. Well, at least he waited until the funeral was over. I figured Conrad would trespass at the next possible opportunity. There he is, as expected, picking the lock."
We watched from afar as Conrad fiddled with the lock. The side door opened, and he eased inside.
"You said he was a German spy," said Beale.
"Probably," said Holmes.
"Because of Thomson's German false identity: Johan Schaper," said Beale.
"That, and his scars," said Holmes. "Conrad bears the scars of a German soldier. There's a scar on his chin from the strap of a German military helmet, a Pickelhaube, worn for an extended time. Additionally, there's a scar on the purlicue of his right hand, consistent with the backfire of a German military rifle. It's a known defect of an early model of the Gewehr bolt-action rifle, which produced recognizable scars on the trigger hands of many German riflemen.
"He's vigilant, always looking for exits and taking headcounts, looking for hands first and then faces. He's well-versed in disguise, deception and thievery. He's connected to the documents. Thus, I suspect he's an intelligence operative of some sort. Perhaps he received special training after a stint as a German infantry soldier."
"He was the buyer," muttered Inspector Lewis, trying to comprehend. "Why did he kill Thomson if they were business partners?"
"Thomson didn't hold up his end of the deal," said Holmes. "Thomson and Conrad met in room 3B on Tuesday morning. Thomson's body was near the chair and couch because they were sitting to discuss business. Thomson didn't give Conrad the documents, so Conrad threatened him with the gun. The gun was in Conrad's right hand, and the wound was on the left side of Thomson's head, so they were facing each other. Perhaps Thomson went for the gun. I don't think Conrad killed him intentionally. He tried splashing water on his face to wake him up, but one solid hit was all it took to mortally wound him. Unfortunately for Conrad, Thomson had hidden the documents.
"Conrad tore the room apart searching until Mrs. Albury walked in on him. He ran, ditched his disguise in the river, and then returned to the house the next day as a prospective guest. He needed to continue his search for the documents. Having already thoroughly searched room 3B, he rented out room 3A, and broke into room 3C. Yes, that was moments before we happened to meet him upstairs; that's why he was at the far end of the hall. There are fresh, thin markings in the room 3C keyhole where he used a pick. He even locked up afterwards."
"Hold on," said Beale. "What about the briefcase?"
"The documents were never in the briefcase," said Holmes.
"What was it then?" said Beale.
"The payment," said Holmes. "Conrad must have brought something to exchange for the documents, and he didn't seem to leave anything behind."
"Whether or not the documents were in the briefcase, they're unaccounted for now," said Beale. "Our top priority is locating those documents."
"Thomson destroyed them," said Holmes. "Check the ash under the stovetop in his room; it's the ash of burnt paper. There's your thousand pages."
Beale considered for a long minute. Holmes drew a folded white napkin from his shirt, unfolding it to reveal a small scrap of burnt paper. There was a short fragment of printed text, barely legible on the charred paper:
—w—sixth hour—dark—
"This was the only surviving text I could find," said Holmes.
"What does it mean?" said Inspector Lewis. "Sixth hour? Sixth hour of what?"
"Impossible to decipher without more context," said Holmes. "Perhaps a memorandum pertaining to travel logistics, or a laboratory report of a time-based observation."
Beale studied the scrap of paper. "He burned the pages? Why?"
"Civic duty," said Holmes.
"You're joking," said Beale.
"Not joking, merely inferring," said Holmes. "Unfortunately, we can't ask the late Lyle Thomson to explain his motivations. Perhaps he realized the gravity of the documents, and decided that he would rather risk deceiving Conrad instead of crippling the British military for decades to come. A greedy, deeply flawed man, but not so traitorous as he might seem."
Beale rubbed the bags of his eyes. "Even if Thomson burned some of the papers, we don't have proof that he burned all of the papers."
"Granted," said Holmes. "It is a tall burden to prove the nonexistence of something, such as a set of papers, allegedly reduced to ash. All we can say is that there is a fresh pile of ash in the stove of room 3B, which, based on mass, color and texture, appears to be the product of someone burning five-hundred to fifteen-hundred sheets of paper. The ashes were spread around the stove to hide their original form. Deduce what you will from that."
"I'd like to hear what Conrad has to say on the matter," said Beale.
"As you wish," said Holmes. "I've lured him into an empty crypt with only one way out, for your convenience."