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

My friend paused at that point in his account and sat staring thoughtfully into the fire for some time. Then he took up his pipe again and lit it.

‘And that,’ said he, when he had been puffing away contentedly for a moment or two, ‘concludes the story up to the point when I made my views known. Does the account in your book include any facts I haven’t mentioned, Watson?’

‘Only one thing that might be important,’ I replied after a moment, as I turned the pages over to refresh my memory. ‘Of course, the author gives a little more detail about some things, and a little less about others, but save only your personal recollections of your holiday, your account and his are very similar. He does mention that Clashbury Staunton had had a very public quarrel with Pigge some time before, accusing the latter’s sixteen-year-old son of throwing stones at his windows. But that is probably not of any relevance, as Staunton seems to have fallen out with almost everyone at some time or another, including, surprisingly, Mr Stainforth, with whom he had an acrimonious disagreement over some question in the history of art. The one possibly significant fact that the author mentions and you have not is that four weeks after the murder of Crompton, Michael Shaxby was arrested in Lincoln while attempting to sell the antique candlesticks that had been stolen from the rectory. He claimed he had found them in a field somewhere and did not realise they were the stolen ones.’

Holmes nodded. ‘I heard about that later,’ said he. ‘Of course, no one believed his unlikely story about the candlesticks, and he was charged with the burglary at the rectory and sent for trial at the Assizes. While in custody he was questioned repeatedly on the other matters – the burglary at Crompton’s house, the attempted burglary at Stainforth’s, and the murder of Crompton – but denied all knowledge of those crimes, and as the police were unable to find any evidence against him, no charges were brought. At the Assizes he was found guilty of the burglary at the rectory, and sentenced to three years in prison, but the other crimes were never solved, and the cases remained open, as, indeed, they do to this day. Does your author reach any conclusions?’

‘He considers the likeliest suspect, despite his denials, to be Michael Shaxby, or possibly one of his brothers. The fact that the burglar resorted to such extreme violence against Crompton suggests, he argues, someone of a brutal character, and the Shaxby family seems to have had more than its fair share of those. But he also considers the farmer, Pigge, a possible suspect, bearing in mind the enmity that existed between him and Crompton. He was, the author says, a big strong man, and could easily have inflicted the savage blow that struck Crompton down.’

‘That is true, and there had certainly been a very public dispute between the two men over the finding of the Roman coin. But why does your author think that Pigge might have been attempting to break into Stainforth’s house?’

‘He gives some detail on the economic circumstances of the period, and explains that many of the farmers in those parts had made practically no profit at all for several years and were in severe financial difficulties. He thinks this may well have been the case with Pigge, and that he might have been driven in desperation to find something of value in Stainforth’s house that he could sell, no doubt inspired to do so by the burglary at the rectory – which, incidentally, he believes was almost certainly committed by Shaxby, as the police alleged. One point against Pigge’s involvement in these crimes, however, is that entry to Crompton’s house was effected through a small pantry window, and the author thinks it doubtful that Pigge could have squeezed his massive frame through such a narrow space.’

Holmes nodded. ‘Any more possible suspects?’

‘The author mentions also the animosity between Crompton and Clashbury Staunton, and is aware of the latter’s quarrelsome nature, and of his antecedents in general – although not, I think, of his slight connection with the household at The Highlands via Mr Hemming. How maddening it must have been, he suggests, for a man of such learning and scholarship, so jealous of his own qualifications and his standing at Cambridge, to have to put up with a rural figure such as Crompton crowing about his discoveries and being so highly esteemed in the district. His annoyance at this, and the general bitterness of his disposition, the author suggests, might have led him, in a moment of anger, to resort to violence against the other man.’

‘Does your author suggest what Staunton might have been doing at Stainforth’s house?’

‘Not really, except that Stainforth was to some extent a friend and ally of Crompton’s. But Stainforth was also, of course, a collector of works of art, some of them very valuable, a fact of which Staunton was aware, as he had visited Stainforth’s house once or twice, before the two of them fell out. The author speculates that there was perhaps something in Stainforth’s house that Staunton wished to get his hands on, but he cannot suggest what that might have been.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Nothing much. The author remarks that the household at The Highlands decamped fairly quickly after the terrible events that had so disturbed the district, but, as he himself observes, that was not, under the circumstances, so very surprising.’

‘Very well,’ said Holmes after a moment. ‘I shall tell you now what happened next. I have mentioned that Sylvie and I had made an expedition in the morning to look for evidence. That same day, just after lunch, I asked Uncle Moreton if I might have a private word with him. He was naturally surprised at this request, but acceded to it and the two of us withdrew to the study.

‘“Now,” said he, as he closed the door. “What is all this about, Sherlock?”

‘“I was wondering,” I replied, “what you should do if you know something about a crime that’s been committed: if, for instance, everybody is puzzled about it and you think you know the truth.”

‘“Strictly speaking,” said Uncle Moreton, “I think the correct procedure is to inform the local Justice of the Peace, but in practice the easiest thing is to tell the police. They will look into what you have told them and decide whether to bring the matter before the J.P. or not. What is it that’s on your mind?”

‘“The recent burglaries and the death of Mr Crompton.”

‘“I don’t think anyone has the slightest idea about those things,” said Uncle Moreton, shaking his head.

‘“I do,” I said.

‘Uncle Moreton’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “You?” he asked in a tone of disbelief. “What can you possibly know?” He sat down in the chair by the desk and pulled another chair forward for me. “These are very serious matters, Sherlock. Someone has been killed. Someone else could be hanged for it. It is not something that can be treated as a game, or as an exciting opportunity for amateur detective-work.”

‘I assured him that I appreciated the gravity of the circumstances. “Sylvie has seen what I have seen,” I continued, “and she agrees with me.”

‘Again he looked astounded and shook his head dubiously. But he could see I was in earnest. “Very well,” said he after a moment. “Tell me what you know.”

‘“First of all,” I began, “you remember that Mr Crompton was right-handed?”

‘“I don’t think I ever noticed whether he was or wasn’t,” responded Uncle Moreton in surprise.

‘“He polished his boots with his right hand, if you recall,” I said: “the smear of boot-polish was along the side of his right thumb. Also, on one of the occasions he took tea with us, he made a note about something in his pocket-book and wrote with his right hand.”