Alex Auswaks - Sherlock Holmes in Russia

For two days we quietly held ourselves ready, continuing to watch Bakhtadian. At the end of the second day Zviagin arrived with eight disguised gendarmes. Like them, he, too, was in civvies. They went by train to the nearest station and walked from there. They arrived late at night and, so as not to attract suspicion, settled themselves in a shed in our yard.

Holmes told them in minute detail everything that had happened in the meantime. They made notes all night, but I noticed both fear and indecisiveness reflected on Zviagin’s face.

We were all up early. Bakhtadian arrived at about nine. He told us that, in a day or two, he’d be delivering a vast amount of goods to us and, asking us to prepare space and money, he left.

The rest of the day I spent with Holmes at the station. Dressed as labourers, we attracted no attention and were easily able to watch four freight cars standing on the outward route being loaded in preparation for departure, while Bakhtadian and the depot manager looked on from a distance. The cargo for these freight cars was brought on Chinese carts from a small village.

At the same time, a freight train arrived from the east. The chief conductor came up to Bakhtadian and, having said something to him, poked a finger at three successive carriages at the rear of the train.

Holmes looked at them and smirked, ‘They’re not sealed, but are bound to have goods inside.’ And as if to confirm his observation, the door of one opened and out jumped Bravoff and Trudin.

With the help of the Chinese, they began to unload the three freight cars and transfer the chests to the still-empty freight cars on the outward route which had been loaded up by Bakhtadian. There was now one long line of rolling stock.

‘Let’s go home,’ Holmes whispered to me.

Zviagin was already waiting. He was gloomy and deep in thought.

‘Captain, three gendarmes by cart to the tunnel I told you about,’ said Holmes hurriedly. ‘They are to take their positions at the eastern exit and, when the alarm is raised, detain everyone.’

Zviagin issued the necessary orders.

‘Now, sir,’ continued Holmes, ‘the other gendarmes are to hurry on their carts and make haste to the tunnel. But they have to conceal themselves not far from the western entrance, so that they can see the trains. As soon as they see three flashes from a torch coming from one of the trains, they must hurry, but very carefully, into the tunnel. As for us, we have to hurry to the station.’

We checked our revolvers and new torches and set off for the station. The train, now fully loaded, stood on the outward route. The three of us hurried towards it.

Holmes left us for a few minutes and when he came back, whispered, ‘There are eight of them. Four are on the platform in the rear of the first carriage and four on the fourth. There’s nobody on any of the other platforms.’

The locomotive was now attached to the train and the full complement moved slowly forward. The three of us jumped on one of the end carriages and we were off. We passed a station and Holmes observed that the stationmaster let it through although it wasn’t travelling by any timetable. The train wasn’t even examined and simply moved on. All this was done openly.

The train went through several tunnels and then began to go uphill. Before we got to the tunnel we wanted, Holmes flashed his torch thrice.

Approaching the tunnel, the train slowed down to such an extent that it would have been possible to keep up with it at a walking pace. Then, when the last carriage had entered the tunnel, the train ground to a complete halt. We threw on our dark cloaks and, at a signal from Holmes, jumped off our platform and cautiously moved along the tunnel.

Light appeared on the other side of the freight car and voices could be heard. The carriage doors began to open. Someone was issuing orders and, one after another, chests tumbled off the trains and thudded on the ground, where they were picked up.

We crept into one of the niches and, squatting on our heels, we watched how the work proceeded on the other side of the wheels.

Half an hour passed. Suddenly there was a rustle from the western side. Holmes took out his revolver, rushed off in that direction and vanished in the dark.

Our nerves tense, we awaited the appearance of the unknown people from the west. And then, suddenly before us, as if he had sprung from the ground, Holmes appeared with a bunch of people in tow. These were the gendarmes who had responded to the agreed signal. At a signal from Holmes, they, too, hid with us in the niche and we waited.

All of a sudden a clear voice broke the silence, ‘Take the train back. Everything’s been unloaded. Too crammed to work here.’ The wheels clattered and the train began to crawl back.

We pressed ourselves to the wall, our cloaks held together to ensure we weren’t seen from the locomotive. But the driver must have been looking the other way and never even noticed us when the sparks from the train and its lamps lit us up. Another minute and the train was gone. We threw off our cloaks.

It was an unusual scene that we saw! Eight people, looking like underground spirits, were working in a darkness lit up by crimson and purple flares. We saw how Bakhtadian moved towards the side of the tunnel, inserted a small rod into it and part of the wall fell back, leaving what appeared to be an entrance. A bright light came through it and lit up the tunnel. All eight energetically fell to shifting the chests towards it.

‘Forward!’ ordered Holmes.

Revolvers at the ready, we threw ourselves towards the opening. The sound of our footsteps alerted the robbers. Bakhtadian tried to make a run for the entrance that had just yawned open, but Holmes’s revolver rang out and he fell prostrate to the ground.

‘Don’t move, if your life is dear to you,’ barked Holmes loudly.

But the robbers only fired back. They had recovered, moved together and were firing as they retreated towards the east.

There came a fierce exchange of fire in this underworld domain and in the near-absolute darkness, someone must have been wounded. We heard him moan in pain. Cries intermingled with curses and gunshots.

‘Gendarmes Petroff and Sidorchuk, action,’ barked Zviagin.

Two shots echoed from behind the robbers.

‘Don’t shoot!’ Zviagin shouted. The gunfire from behind them panicked the robbers. Cries for mercy came from among them. One after another, they threw down their arms and begged for mercy. With our torches on, we approached them slowly, our revolvers at the ready.

‘Two gendarmes on the train and stop it leaving. One stand guard by the cargo!’ Sherlock Holmes gave the order.

And turning to the robbers, he said coldly, ‘And as for you, the wisest course is to let yourselves be tied up. There’s more of us than you think and the eastern exit is guarded. Hurry up, Mr Bravoff, and you, Mr Trudin.’

The men from the Red Cross and the quartermaster stood silently, their heads lowered.

‘Gendarmes, take them!’ ordered Zviagin.

At the word ‘gendarmes’, a shudder went through the robber band. Up until now they must have thought they were dealing with another robber gang. But as soon as the word ‘gendarmes’ sounded and the disguised men moved forward, several members of the robber band raised their revolvers in a desperate resolve.

‘Aha! So that’s how it is!’ shouted Holmes, raising his revolver.

In the same moment, seven gendarmes fired in coordination and four ruffians fell to the ground covered in blood and filling the tunnel with their cries. Bravoff fell with them. That was their last attempt to defend themselves. Their numbers down, their morale gone, the remaining robbers stood there shaking in fear.