Alex Auswaks - Sherlock Holmes in Russia

‘And what happened?’ asked one of the workers.

‘He promised he’d transfer me to another section if I didn’t send any report. They’ve all got their snouts in the trough, see, so they oughtn’t to make a big deal out of what we small fellows do!’

‘Right! Right! That’s for sure!’ burst out approving voices.

‘See what they do when presented with some of their bloomin’ wonders!’ said one of the workers stepping forward. ‘For example, that one engineer steals sleepers from another engineer. Say, for example, Engineer Ilya Petrovitch instructs his foreman to take ten freight wagons and load them up with sleepers stolen from his friend Feodor Nikolayevitch who runs the adjoining section!’

‘The devil knows what they do under the circumstances!’

‘Don’t you know?’ exclaimed the first worker. ‘Don’t you understand? Say Ilya Petrovitch stole from Feodor Nikolayevitch. Of course, that’s all done to pull the wool over the eyes because, if Feodor Nikolayevitch didn’t want anyone to steal from him, he’d mount more watchmen. But this is what is really going on. Feodor Nikolayevitch will now notice the theft and draw up a charge sheet in the presence of witnesses. The charge sheet will say, nicked by Chinese bandits. A detachment will be despatched and no Chinese bandits will be found, but money is sent to Feodor Nikolayevitch to replace the stolen sleepers. Now Ilya Petrovitch stacks up the stolen sleepers. Enter the contractor who supplies Ilya Petrovitch with sleepers and who is in on this. If Ilya Petrovitch steals a thousand sleepers, his contractor delivers a thousand less, but bills for the full number. Ilya Petrovitch now gets paid by the contractor. Out of this deal Ilya Petrovitch gets something, and Feodor Nikolayevitch gets something. It’s all the work of Chinese bandits and they’re not around! That’s how it is!’

The conversation turned toward Chinese bandits.

‘Do you hear that?’ Holmes said with a laugh, as he led me aside. ‘This is well organized, orderly thievery. I don’t know what we’ll uncover further, but so far I haven’t yet come across a single honest person.’

We walked to the little village, consisting of a few small shops and houses.

‘Shall we try that shop?’ suggested Holmes.

‘Let’s,’ I said.

We went in.

Sherlock Holmes threw a quick glance round the shop and asked to be shown long underwear, singlets and boots. The owner produced all three.

‘Do you have any other sort?’ asked Holmes. He then rummaged through the entire shop and finally selected a pair of boots, two singlets and a pair of long underwear. He paid, picked up his purchases and we moved along to the next shop.

Once again Holmes rummaged and rummaged, but only bought two lemons.

One after another, we went through the other shops and came away with china from one, suspenders from another and in yet another, for some reason, cut-offs of materials for women’s dresses.

After that we found an open field.

‘Now, then, let’s have a look at our purchases,’ said Sherlock Holmes. He sat down on the grass and began to untie the packets we had brought with us.

‘I’m wondering why you had to buy all this rubbish, for which we have absolutely no use,’ I said, shrugging my shoulders.

‘You’re wrong, my dear Watson. This rubbish is very important for me,’ and he laughed. ‘Just look at this lemon, my dear Watson. It bears the mark of the Red Cross on it. Of course, the kind-hearted donor didn’t consider that his lemons would be sold in the most ordinary grocery for a few pennies, instead of getting to a wounded soldier.’

He unwrapped another packet, got out a pair of boots and pointed inside the boot leg, ‘Here, look at this, with the mark indicating it is army property. Instead of going to a half-barefooted soldier, it is being sold in a shop where even a Japanese, the country’s former enemy, can buy it.’

I looked with curiosity at the samples Holmes had collected. All the time, he went on unwrapping one item after another, saying, ‘A superb collection! Singlets from the Red Cross, long underwear, also, china bearing the hallmark of the International Association of Sleeping-cars, hmmm … undoubtedly from the train of the commander-in-chief … brace-bands of the 14 Field Hospital … Well! Well! Well!’

‘It won’t be easy for you to sort out this mess,’ I said. ‘Digging into this could take years.’

‘Undoubtedly! But for me, the important thing is to locate the common thread and the dots it goes through.’

‘What do you intend to do?’ I asked.

Holmes thought for a minute, ‘As far as I am concerned, the middlemen don’t interest me, Watson. Do you see this? I am much more interested in the suppliers and that’s why you and I, in my opinion, wouldn’t be erring greatly if, for a while, we traded in these stolen goods.’

‘How?’ I asked, because I did not understand.

‘We’ll pick some likely place where stolen goods are in greatest demand and that’s where we’ll start selling.’

‘In that case, our trip will have to take longer.’

‘Of course! We’ll send a detailed account of our intention to Zviagin, but shan’t send regular accounts of progress. He’ll forward our luggage wherever we need it. Do you agree with this, Watson?’

I could only shrug my shoulders. ‘Why do you bother to ask for my assent?’ I answered. ‘You know perfectly well that I gladly follow you everywhere.’

On this we ended our conversation.

We spent the whole of the next day travelling and our choice fell, at last, on Sliudianka station. From here, Holmes dispatched a short communication to Zviagin and, in a business-like manner, we set about preparing for trade.

Approximately ten days went by. In those ten days we managed to get a few things done.

We rented a Chinese fang-tze [hut] and had it redecorated. The local carpenter urgently made counters and shelves, while the two of us went about suppliers, trading agents and dealers, bargaining over every conceivable kind of goods, sometimes even ill-assorted.

Before long, samples were being brought to us. Holmes took only small quantities of those goods which did not rouse his suspicion. But no sooner was anything suspicious placed before him than he took large quantities and spoke at length with the suppliers. Such deals were often accompanied by drinking sessions, during which Holmes and the seller would each put up a few bottles of champagne.

Some twenty days later, when the carpenter had finished, we started accepting deliveries in the store. Holy Mother of God, what did we only not stock! Holmes seemed positively determined to open a general store such as the world had never seen: sugar, lubricating grease, cotton cloth, calico, chintz, dried vegetables, boots, perfume, singlets, almonds, vodka, linen, dental and surgical instruments, in sum, anything that anyone would want. Merchants and agents poured in endlessly, having heard that we bought anything that came to hand.

One evening, Holmes had just begun to open a case of boots, when an Armenian named Bakhtadian dropped by. Bakhtadian was his top supplier and, in the manner of people from the Caucasus, addressed him in the familiar second person and not the polite plural second person. ‘Opening up a case of boots, are you?’ he asked.

‘Yes, they’re your boots,’ said Holmes, with a smile, taking out a pair and deliberately studying the inside of the leg.

Bakhtadian laughed, ‘Looking for the mark?’

‘Doesn’t bother me,’ shrugged Holmes. ‘I’ll scrape it off. But how come you aren’t afraid to sell them like that so openly?’

‘What’s there to be afraid of?’ Bakhtadian asked in surprise. ‘If it is the authorities themselves who do the selling, anything goes. If one had to remove seals and stamps and brands and marks from every article, it would take five years.’