Denis Smith - The Mammoth Book of the New Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes

Zennor thought for a moment. ‘It was certainly on the shelf in the office at twenty past eight in the morning, when the office and the corridor outside it were busy with people coming and going, for Wakefield made some little joke about its being left lying about. A couple of the others laughed and Dr Glimper ticked them all off for what he described as “inappropriate and unseemly levity”. After that, I have no further knowledge of it.’

‘Very well. Let us return once more to Lambeth Palace, then. I am interested in the hat-stand in the verandah. You said that when you arrived, there were no coats hanging on the pegs there; but can you recall if there were any hats on the hat-stand?’

Our companion closed his eyes and frowned, and remained in silent concentration for several minutes. ‘Yes,’ said he at last, ‘there was another hat there. I remember now that I nearly knocked it off as I was hanging up my own.’

Holmes nodded and scribbled something in his note-book. Then, for several minutes, he sat in silence studying his notes and I saw that he had drawn a complex-looking diagram, consisting of dots, arrows, connecting lines and, here and there, little stick-men. For some time he stared at what he had drawn, then he looked up.

‘That looks very complicated,’ I ventured.

‘It may appear so at present,’ he responded; ‘but it will no doubt become clearer when we have spoken to some of those involved. Tell me,’ he continued, turning to Zennor, ‘were you able to see if there was anything beside the cheque in the envelope you found in your pocket – a letter, for instance?’

‘No, there was nothing in it but the cheque itself.’

‘Was anything written on the envelope?’

‘No, it was perfectly blank. I did later find a scrap of paper with a note on it in my pocket,’ added Zennor after a moment. ‘I’d never seen it before and only noticed it when I was travelling back to Canterbury on the train.’

‘Why did you not mention it before?’ asked Holmes in surprise.

‘It did not seem of any importance,’ replied the other. ‘The issue was whether I had stolen Sir Anthony Ingoldsby’s cheque or not. My head was in a whirl from that, so the fact that there was a scrap of paper in my pocket seemed of little consequence. As I mentioned to you earlier, the minor canons are in the habit of borrowing each other’s coats and one does sometimes find odd things left in one’s pocket.’

‘Do you have it with you?’ asked Holmes.

‘Yes, it is here,’ said Zennor. He put his hand in his inside pocket and produced a small square piece of paper, which had clearly been torn from a larger sheet, and passed it over to us. Upon this little sheet was written the following brief message:

London, Thursday, 22nd

St Mark’s, Ham. X.

Four o’clock

‘It appears to be an appointment of some kind,’ said Holmes. ‘Does it mean anything to you, Mr Zennor?’

‘Nothing whatever. Off-hand, I don’t think I even know any church dedicated to St Mark. Nor have I ever been to Ham.’

‘Do you know Ham, Watson?’ Holmes asked me.

I shook my head. ‘As far as I’m aware it lies somewhere on the Thames between Richmond and Kingston, but I don’t think I’ve ever been there.’

‘Of course, this note may not be connected to the disappearance of the cheque,’ said Holmes, ‘but, if not, its appearance in your pocket at the same time as the cheque is something of an odd coincidence. The Thursday it refers to is tomorrow, so if we don’t succeed in getting to the bottom of the matter while we’re in Kent, it may provide us with another line of inquiry.’

The rain was falling in a fine drizzle as we left the station at Canterbury and made our way to the cathedral through the narrow streets of the old town. As we turned a corner, we almost bumped into a stout young man in clerical garb, hurrying in the opposite direction.

‘Hello, Wakefield!’ said Zennor.

‘Hello,’ returned the other, but seemed disinclined to stop.

‘This is Mr Sherlock Holmes,’ said Zennor. ‘He is looking into the matter of Sir Anthony Ingoldsby’s cheque.’

‘Oh, is he?’ said Wakefield in a sarcastic tone. ‘Best of luck with that!’ he continued, turning to Holmes. ‘As I understand it, there’s not much to look into about it! Now,’ he said, pushing past us, ‘I really must be off!’

‘I am sorry he was rude to you,’ said Zennor, as we continued on our way. ‘He can sometimes be a little short in his manner.’

‘No matter,’ said Holmes. ‘I could see all that I wished to know.’

We reached the cathedral precincts in a few minutes, and our guide conducted us through an ancient gateway, round a corner and through a low-arched doorway into a short corridor, along the side of which hung three black raincoats.

‘This is where we generally leave our coats,’ said Zennor.

‘Can you tell to whom these coats belong?’ asked Holmes.

‘They will all be marked somewhere,’ replied Zennor, turning back the cuffs and looking in the pockets. ‘Yes, this one is Nugent’s,’ said he at length, ‘this next one is Bebington’s and this third one is Dr Glimper’s.’

‘You are wearing yours at the moment, as is Wakefield,’ said Holmes in a thoughtful voice. ‘Jeavons has gone off to Grantham wearing Earley’s coat, according to the account you gave us earlier, so where is Jeavons’s own coat?’

Zennor shook his head. ‘Perhaps Earley is wearing it,’ he suggested.

‘No, he isn’t,’ came a voice from an open doorway, a little further along the corridor, and a moment later, a bespectacled young man thrust his head out of the doorway and regarded us for a moment.

‘Hello, Earley,’ said our companion.

‘Hello, Zennor. What’s all this about?’

Zennor introduced us. ‘These gentlemen are trying to help me solve the riddle of how Sir Anthony’s cheque ended up in my pocket. I think Mr Holmes feels that the muddle over the raincoats may have contributed to it.’

‘I never thought of that,’ said Earley in a thoughtful tone, stepping out into the corridor. ‘I don’t know if it could really have affected anything, but the coats certainly got in a muddle yesterday, there’s no denying that!’

‘You went to Ramsgate, I believe,’ said Holmes.

‘That’s right,’ returned the other. ‘I left about half past eight in the morning. I was going to walk to the station with Wakefield, but I couldn’t find my coat. Wakefield got a little impatient and said he couldn’t wait, so he set off without me. I realised at length that Jeavons must have mistakenly taken my coat – he’s done that before – so I took what I thought was his and dashed off to catch Wakefield up. I didn’t come back until about four o’clock in the afternoon and heard then what had happened. Don’t worry, Zennor,’ he added. ‘I’m sure it will all get sorted out. It must just be some silly sort of mix-up.’

‘When you returned,’ said Holmes, ‘you presumably hung your coat up here?’

‘Yes.’

‘But Jeavons’s coat is certainly not here now, so I think you must have been wearing someone else’s coat yesterday.’

‘Yes, I think perhaps I was,’ agreed Earley, looking a little embarrassed. ‘It fitted me well enough, anyway,’ he added with a chuckle.

‘Is there anywhere else that Jeavons might have left his coat?’ Holmes asked.

‘It might be in his room.’

‘Might we see?’

‘Yes; I will show you,’ said Earley. ‘He has the room immediately above my own. It will not be locked and I don’t think he would mind us looking in.’

He turned, led the way further along the corridor and up two flights of a steep stone staircase, until we found ourselves in a narrow corridor with a steeply sloping ceiling.