Peter Tremayne - An Ensuing Evil and Others

The priest did so, with Holmes behind him and Watson and Gallagher trailing in the rear. It was an ordinary cellar, mostly used for the storage of coal and with wine racks along one side. Holmes moved hither and thither through it like a ferret until he came to a rusting iron door .

“Where does this lead?” he demanded .

Father Michael shrugged. “It leads into the new crypt. As you know, we are rebuilding the church and creating a crypt. The door used to lead into another cell, but it has not been opened ever since I have been here.”

“Which is how long?” asked Holmes, examining it carefully .

“Ten years.”

“I see,” muttered the Great Detective. Then he smiled broadly. “I see.” He said it again almost as if to impress everyone that he had spotted some solution to the mystery .

“And does an Underground railway run near here?”

Father Michael shook his head. “Our architect ascertained that before we began to rebuild the church. We needed to ensure strong foundations.”

Gallagher felt he could have done a dance at the crestfallen expression on Holmes’s face. It lasted only a moment, and then Holmes had swung round on him .

“I want to see the Metropolitan Commissioner of Sewers and maps of the system under London.”

Gallagher felt he was dealing with a maniac now. It seemed that Holmes had devised some theory that he was determined to prove at all cost .

Mr. Bert Small, manager of the sewerage system, agreed to see Holmes and provide plans of the area at the company’s Canon Row offices, just opposite the Palace of Westminster on the corner of Parliament Street .

“I cannot see the connection I wish to make,” Holmes said in resignation, pushing the plans away from him in disgust. “There seems no way that one could negotiate the sewers from Soho Square to Gay fere Street, at least not directly in a short space of time. And the Underground railway does not run anywhere near Father Michael’s nor Glassford’s houses.”

It was then that Bert Small came to the rescue of Holmes, demonstrating that it was not intellect alone that helped him solve his cases but good fortune and coincidence .

“Maybe you are looking at the wrong underground system, Mr. Holmes,” he suggested. “There are many other underground systems under London apart from sewers and the new railway system.”

Holmes regarded him with raised eyebrows. “There is another system of tunnels that runs under Westminster?”

Mr. Small rose and took down some keys, smiling with superiority. “I will show you.”

It took but a few minutes for Mr. Bert Small-the man of the moment, as Gallagher cynically described him-to lead them from his office around the corner to Westminster Bridge. Here Mr. Small led them down a flight of steps to the Embankment to the base of the statue of Queen Boadicea, in her chariot with her two daughters. There was a small iron door here, which he unlocked, then suggested that they follow him .

A flight of iron steps led them into a tunnel. Mr. Small seemed to swell with pride, and he pointed out that it was situated just above the lower-level interceptory sewer that ran below the level of the Thames. They could see that it was built of brickwork but arched rather than circular and was about six feet high. It was designed, said Mr. Small, to carry cast-iron pipes with water and gas .

He took a lantern and shone it along the dark, forbidding way .

Gallagher was conscious of the river seeping through the brickwork, dripping down the walls on either side and, above all, he was aware of the smell, the putrid stench of the river and the echoing tunnel before them. Holmes began to sniff with a sigh of satisfaction .

Mr. Small pointed down the tunnel. “These tunnels run from here along the river as far as the Bank of England, Mr. Holmes. These are Sir Joseph Bazalgette’s tunnels, which he completed fifteen years ago,” he said proudly. “You have probably seen, gentlemen, that Sir Joseph died a few months ago. The tunnel system under London was his finest achievement and -“

Holmes was not interested in the eulogy of the civil engineer who had built the tunnels. “And are there other connections?”

“Altogether there are eleven and a half miles of these sorts of tunnels. They fan out through the city,” replied Mr. Small, blinking at being cut short .

“Do they connect with Soho Square and Gayfere Street?” Holmes demanded .

“There are none of these tunnels that would connect directly. You would have to go from Soho Square down to Shaftesbury Avenue to find an entrance and then you would have to exit here and walk to Gayfere Street.”

“Then that’s no good to me,” snapped Holmes irritably. “Let’s return to the surface.”

Detective Inspector Gallagher smiled to see the Great Detective so put out that whatever theory he had could not be sustained .

As they emerged onto the Embankment, Mr. Small, perhaps seeking to mollify Holmes’s bad humor, was prompted to make another suggestion .

“There is yet another tunnel system, Mr. Holmes,” he finally ventured. “That might pass in the general direction that you have indicated, but I am not sure. I do have a plan of it back at the office. But it has been closed down for over a decade now.”

Holmes asserted that he would like to see the plans .

Gallagher believed that Holmes was off on another wild goose chase and, being just across the road from his office at Scotland Yard, he left Holmes and Watson with Mr. Small. He returned to report the progress to his chief, Littlechild. It was two hours later that Gallagher received a curt note from Holmes asking him to meet him at Glassford’s house within half an hour and bring a posse of armed police officers, who were to station themselves in the front and back of the building .

Gallagher reluctantly carried out Holmes’s orders after consulting with Chief Inspector Littlechild, who checked with the commissioner .

Holmes met Gallagher at the door of Glassford’s house and immediately took him down into the cellar. The first thing that Gallagher noticed was an aperture to the south side of the cellar that had previously been covered by piles of old furniture. Beyond this hole was a tunnel of some ten feet in length, dug through the London clay. But within ten feet it met a well-constructed brick-lined tunnel. It was of arched brickwork some four and a half feet in height and four feet wide and a small-gauge railway line ran through it. Gallagher was puzzled, for this was certainly not a tunnel connected with the rail system. Holmes ordered a policeman to be stationed as a guard at this point and then invited Gallagher to join him in Sir Gibson Glassford’s study .

Holmes had gathered everyone in Glassford’s study. There was the minister himself his wife, and all the servants, nanny, cook, housemaids, and the butler, Hogan. The Great Detective was looking pleased as punch with himself, and Gallagher reported that the spectacle was repulsive in the extreme .

“The case was simple,” exclaimed Holmes in his usual pedantic style. “I drew your attention to the bruising and puncture mark over the vein in the cardinal’s neck. To most people who have dealt with the administration of narcotics, the puncture mark was the sign of a hypodermic syringe. Usually, this is the method by which a medication or drugs is introduced under the skin of the patient by means — “

“I think we know the method, Holmes,” muttered Gallagher. “Dr. Thomson did not agree with you. Indeed, he conducted tests which showed no sign of any foreign substance, let alone narcotics or poison, being introduced into the body of the cardinal which would cause death.”