Alex Auswaks - Sherlock Holmes in Russia

And this is when something happened that even Sherlock Holmes did not expect. The door lock clicked. Then a second, and a third, and a fourth and a fifth … and the door opened.

In the doorway of the dark warehouse, Fomka’s figure appeared in outline. He looked round carefully and made a few steps forward, holding a large bunch of keys in his hand.

I looked at Holmes. He sat there hunched, like a cat waiting for a mouse, ready to spring.

Fomka advanced slowly in the direction of Yefimoff. And suddenly the unexpected happened and totally upset our calculations. The appearance of the thug must have frightened Yefimoff. And instead of calmly waiting, he suddenly sprang back like a madman and, at the top of his voice, yelled, ‘Stop thief!’

Fomka sprang towards the door. Holmes flew out of his spot like an arrow, but it was already too late. Fomka was through the door, slamming it shut after him, while Holmes, unable to stop in time, careened into it forehead first.

By the time we made it to the street, Fomka was far away. We heard him jabber something as he was caught in a leash by which a student was leading a dog, saw how he stumbled head over heels, as did the dog, but that only delayed him for a moment. Ignoring the student’s curses, he was up and away and soon was hidden from view. Willy-nilly, we had to return.

‘And you just had to start howling,’ Holmes said with reproach directed at Yefimoff, who, in the meantime, had come to and joined in the chase.

‘It’s all right for you to talk,’ was the answer. ‘This is the sort of thing that you’re used to, while it’s a first time for me.’

There was nothing to be done. The red-headed thug had vanished and after a few exchanges we went home.

We spent the whole of the following morning taking turns in the tavern opposite Gavriushka Voropayeff’s bookstore ostensibly owned by Nikanoroff. It was my turn when, through the window, I saw Gavriushka emerging. He spent a long time haggling with the cabbie and they were finally off.

I was after him and soon we were at the Nikolayevsk Railway Station. It was twenty minutes before the next train to Petersburg. I saw Gavriushka Voropayeff in the queue for third-class tickets and got an errand-boy to get me a ticket also.

The journey to Petersburg passed quickly enough and because I was travelling second class, I hardly saw Gavriushka. But then, at Tver, I was fortunate enough to see him go to the telegraph office and, standing behind him on the pretext, that I, too, was sending a telegram, I read his over his shoulder as he was so short. It was addressed to Panova’s Book Store in Petersburg, personally to an employee named Seriogin. The text was short and to the point: ARRIVING THIS MORNING. MEET ME.

The telegram was a real find. Now, at least, I had some sort of key. Arriving in Petersburg, a fairly well-dressed young man approached Gavriushka Voropayeff on the platform. They greeted each other, spoke and made their way to the exit.

I left my case with its change of clothes in the station baggage room and followed them at some distance. At Liteiniy Prospect they turned right and soon we were over the Neva River. After some zig-zagging along the narrow alleys of the Viborg bank, Seriogin and Gavriushka went into a small tavern, whose customers must have been mostly cab drivers as there was a large cab station next door.

I waited five minutes and followed them in. There was no vacant table next to them, so I had to occupy another that was one removed.

Gavriushka and Seriogin were, evidently, deeply involved in their own conversation and though they kept their voices low, from time to time some words reached me. They were haggling. The greedy Gavriushka would raise his voice quite considerably whenever money was mentioned.

‘No, fellow, I simply can’t. You know yourself how things are. Isn’t a quarter enough! You can check every penny on me, but that’s all I have. All that’d be left for me would be ten roubles for a return ticket and a cheap meal,’ he said heatedly.

But Seriogin wouldn’t give in, ‘As you wish, but I won’t settle for anything less than fifty,’ he said firmly.

‘Then feel free to go to anyone else,’ said Gavriushka angrily.

Seriogin shrugged, ‘Well, then, so we will. You’re not the only game in town. There’s plenty more,’ he said nastily.

They lowered their voices and renewed their haggling. Gavriushka haggled with such emotion that perspiration began to run down his face. But it appeared that he wasn’t getting his way. As their argument became more heated, their voices rose and became more and more hoarse.

Gavriushka became completely transformed. His face grew scarlet. His greedy eyes shone as if he were mad and his fingers convulsed into fists. ‘Just you wait then,’ he shouted, unable to contain himself any longer.

Seriogin looked at him and jeered, ‘Let’s see – who of us will wait and whom it’ll suit best is still to be seen, but I’ll say it’ll be the worse for you,’ he said and laughed in Gavriushka’s face.

‘So that’s how you intend to carry on,’ shouted Gavriushka, leaping out of his chair. And before the onlookers, who had begun to be interested in their quarrel, could react, he picked up a saucer from the table and let fly at Seriogin with it. If Seriogin hadn’t managed to duck, the saucer would have smashed into his face. But it had been thrown with such force that it hit the opposite wall and with a ring fell to pieces on the floor.

Seriogin, in turn, seized a cup of tea and threw the contents into Gavriushka’s face. ‘Freshen up with that and calm down, because I can smash all this china over your blasted head,’ he said, looking at the panic-stricken Gavriushka, now wiping his scalded face with a table serviette.

The hot shower, it seemed, had its intended effect on Gavriushka. He threw a series of curses at his friend and sat down again, curtly dismissing the waiter who had appeared, saying to him, ‘What are you doing here! Go about your own business! We have our own to look after and we know each other well enough. Don’t bother us.’

The brief outburst also seemed to have an effect on Seriogin. Both began to give ground and before long I noticed that they shook hands in the friendliest manner.

‘So, thirty-five,’ said Gavriushka

‘I’ll be bringing the stuff to the station in four hours,’ said Seriogin, ‘and then that’ll be that.’

Their haggling over, they ordered vodka and bits and pieces to eat and began to speak so softly I could no longer follow what they were saying.

Not wishing to arouse their suspicions, I left and walked my way to the railway station, where I waited for them to appear. There was still plenty of time to dine.

Soon Gavriushka appeared. An hour or so later he was followed by Seriogin in a cab with two sizable baskets. Gavriushka took the baskets and counted out thirty-five roubles. Judging by the expression on his face, he parted with the money only very reluctantly.

Seriogin left, while the thrifty Gavriushka, sitting on one of the baskets, patiently waited for a train. As soon as the train arrived, Gavriushka began to lug his cargo into the coach. Not one to spend so much as ten kopecks on a porter, he carried them in himself, perspiring from the effort, having also spent a good five minutes in a heated argument with the conductor who hadn’t wanted to let him on board with such large-sized baskets.

Eventually the matter was settled and Gavriushka, heaving and blowing, managed to accommodate his cargo on shelves above the seats. I lost him on the way to Moscow, as we travelled in separate coaches.

Before departing from Petersburg, I managed to send Holmes a telegram and he met me in Moscow. I described briefly for him everything I had seen and heard, and asked, shouldn’t we be watching Gavriushka further.