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

‘I see,’ said Holmes, nodding his head in a thoughtful way. ‘Is there anything else you can tell us, Mr Potter?’

‘There is one more thing. It may have absolutely nothing to do with the present business, but I think I ought to tell you, for it was certainly odd and unusual. I had quite forgotten about it until these recent events. It was on a Sunday, during the hot weather last summer. I had gone down with my family to visit Major Ullathorne and take tea with him at Juniper Cottage. After tea, we sat for some time in the garden, talking and watching little Horatio play, but our conversation was interrupted by the door-bell. “Now, who on earth can that be, on a Sunday evening?” said Uncle Henry, and it was clear that he was not expecting any other visitors. He hurried off to answer it, for his maid had gone home for the week-end, and we heard him admit someone to the house. The garden in which we were sitting being at the back of the cottage, we could not, of course, see who had entered at the front door, but we could hear the sound of low voices through the open French windows of the study. Presently my uncle reappeared through these French windows, his features very serious, and, I thought, a little agitated.

‘“Do excuse my rudeness,” said he in an apologetic tone, “but I am afraid I must ask you to leave, Sidney. Something extremely important has cropped up, and I must devote my full attention to it. I do apologise.”

‘“Do not concern yourself, Uncle,” said I. “Daisy and I were just thinking of making our way home, anyway. The light will be going soon, and we don’t want to be walking down to the railway station in the dark.” As I informed him, it was quite unnecessary for him to apologise. My uncle was one of the most polite and considerate men that I have ever met. Besides, it was clear that whatever the information was that his caller had brought, it was of a very serious nature, for I had never before seen him appear so anxious.’

‘That is interesting, and suggestive,’ said Holmes, as Potter paused. ‘Of course, it is impossible at present to say whether the incident has a bearing on recent matters or not, but you were right to tell me of it.’

‘Do you see any chink of light in the mystery?’ asked Potter. ‘I confess I see none at all. Why I am being plagued by this man, Pleasant, and why he and others should be so determined to get their hands on Hardiman Smallbone’s Old Testament, I simply cannot imagine.’

‘The matter is not yet entirely clear to me,’ answered Holmes, ‘but a pattern is certainly discernible. The case contains one or two suggestive features, the chief one being, perhaps, the business of the crooked pictures on the sitting-room wall after Mr Pleasant’s visit. There are several different lines of inquiry open to us, so it should not be too long before we hit upon the truth. But here, unless I am mistaken, is our station, so let us make haste. I confess I am keen to see Juniper Cottage for myself!’

We had left the railway station and were walking through the bustling town, when Potter drew our attention to two military men some distance ahead of us, on the other side of the road.

‘That is Colonel Headley and his adjutant, Major Felgate,’ said our companion. ‘I wonder if they have any news.’

We crossed the road and soon caught up to the two soldiers. Potter introduced us, and Major Felgate, in turn, explained matters to the senior officer.

‘This is the nephew of the late Major Ullathorne,’ said he.

The Colonel shook Potter warmly by the hand. ‘Ullathorne was a good friend of mine,’ said he. ‘I was very shocked and saddened by his sudden death.’

‘Mr Potter consulted us a week or two ago,’ Felgate continued, ‘over some odd occurrences at his house, Ullathorne’s old quarters. It seems possible that one of our men has been making a nuisance of himself, and I said I would look into the matter.’

‘It was concerning that business that I wished to speak to you,’ said Potter.

‘I am afraid I cannot linger,’ interrupted Colonel Headley. ‘I have an appointment to see Colonel Shacklewell of the Artillery in ten minutes, so I shall have to leave you in the capable hands of Major Felgate.’

‘Should I order the carriage?’ enquired the major.

‘No, I only have the one appointment, so I’ll walk,’ returned the other. ‘It’s not far, and the exercise will do me good. I’ll be back later this afternoon. Major Felgate can give me the details of this business later,’ he continued, turning to Potter. Then, with a little bow, he hurried off, and turned up a side-street.

‘I have a little office at the Arsenal, gentlemen,’ said the major. ‘If you would come along there now, I can tell you what I have been able to discover so far.’

Five minutes later, we were seated in Major Felgate’s private room. For several minutes, he leafed through papers on his desk.

‘To be frank, Mr Potter,’ said he at length, ‘I have not been very successful so far. I have been extremely busy lately, and have not been able to devote as much time to the matter as I would have wished. I delegated two of my men to look into the matter of your Mr Pleasant, but they have not so far managed to identify him, and I am beginning to doubt that he is a Royal Medway man. It may be that he is a civilian employee, here at the Arsenal, for I believe that Major Ullathorne was on friendly terms with some of them.

‘One possibility which has arisen in the course of our researches, however, is that your late uncle may have been indebted to someone, either in the regiment, or at the Arsenal.’

‘That would surprise me greatly if it were true,’ responded Potter. ‘I never heard that Major Ullathorne was ever in debt in his life. He conducted both his business and his personal affairs in a most careful and correct manner.’

‘Quite so. I do not doubt it for a moment. Nevertheless, the suggestion is that in return for some favour, at some time in the past, Ullathorne had promised some possession of his to his creditor. It was probably not anything of great value, but simply something which had caught the fancy of the man he was obligated to. In which case, it may be that his sudden and untimely death occurred before the debt had been discharged, and his creditor has therefore decided to lay his hands on what he feels he is owed.’

‘Do you have any evidence that my uncle was involved in such a transaction?’ asked Potter in a tone of disbelief.

‘There is a rumour to that effect.’

‘But if someone feels he is owed something, why has he not simply approached me on the matter?’

‘Perhaps because the nature of the agreement between the two men was a strictly informal one. If he has no evidence of the debt, he may think it unlikely that you would believe him.’

‘Well,’ said Potter, as we walked up the hill after leaving the Arsenal, ‘I was not particularly impressed with Major Felgate’s theory, I must say.’

‘It does seem a trifle unlikely,’ Holmes agreed, ‘and somewhat inadequate as an explanation of recent events. I sense that there may be a little more involved in the matter than the major’s theory allows.’

A walk of about twenty minutes brought us to the lane which led up to Juniper Cottage, and a further five minutes up the steep, rutted track brought us to the garden gate. Two large, dark juniper bushes flanked the gateway, meeting above it to form an arch. Beyond the gate, a short paved path led up to the front door of the pretty little cottage. On either side of the porch stood currant bushes, covered with vivid red blooms, and in beds to the side of them, bright yellow daffodils nodded their heads in the breeze.

Mrs Potter had evidently heard our approach, for she opened the door as we reached it. Her husband introduced us, then gave us a little tour of the curious old building. In the room which had been Major Ullathorne’s study, a pair of French windows stood open, and we passed through them to a large and level rear garden. Beyond the neatly trimmed lawn was an area of fruit-trees and bushes, and, beyond that, a small wood separated the garden from open country. Away to the right, over a tall hedge, the chimneys of another cottage were visible, which Potter informed us belonged to Major Ullathorne’s old friend, Major Loxley.