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

‘Somewhat over a year ago he became bored with the London stage and determined to display his talents to the country at large. He therefore booked theatrical halls here, there and everywhere, and set forth on a tour of the provinces in a special entertainment devised and performed entirely by himself. This seems to have consisted largely of brief extracts from Hamlet , Macbeth and others of Shakespeare’s plays, blended together with selections from Gulliver’s Travels and Robinson Crusoe , with numerous connecting passages written by Xavier himself, which were, according to his brochure, both humorous and pathetic. This bizarre concoction was described by one critic, with what I must admit seemed like justice, as a “monstrous farrago”. The title Xavier gave to it, incidentally, was “Ludovic Xavier in Strange Times and Places”, and I gather that this title rather summed up his tour of the country. In many places, I understand, the patience of the audience proved less enduring than the performance. In Newcastle-upon-Tyne, I am told, half the audience took advantage of the first interval to escape from the theatre altogether and, in Carlisle, Xavier was heckled from the stage. It was therefore in a somewhat chastened humour that he returned to London. In some quarters he had by then been re-christened “Ludicrous Failure”, although I don’t think he was ever aware of it. No one would dare say such a thing to his face. He is a dangerous man to cross and he never forgets a slight. Anyhow, at the time I met him he was feeling somewhat lowered, and eager to accept any part which promised to restore in some measure his professional pride and his fortune, both of which had taken something of a battering in the previous months. Since our rehearsals began, however, his old pride being evidently rapidly restored by his new employment, he has scarcely ceased to complain about the limitations of his role in The Lavender Girl , the inadequacy of the dialogue I have written for him and goodness knows what else. If he were able to cancel his contract tomorrow and seek another production, I suspect that he might do so. Much to my surprise, however, in the midst of his dissatisfaction, as it were, he has taken a professional interest in Lydia Summers. Perhaps he sees something in the girl which reminds him of himself when he was first starting out in the profession, many years ago. Who can say? Anyway, whatever the reason, he has been helping her a little, coaching her with her performance and so on, which I have been pleased to see.

‘Jimmy Webster, the comic actor, is, on the surface at least, as different from Xavier as it is possible to be. He is generally an agreeable sort of person and is fairly amenable to most suggestions put to him. He has been very popular with the public in recent years and, as with Miss Ballantyne, I considered myself fortunate to secure his services. I know, from previous experience, that there is an odd, dark side to his character, but he keeps it well hidden in public. He can also be extremely bad tempered sometimes; but at least he is usually sober, unlike many other comic actors I have known. His chief vice, at least as far as his fellow-actors are concerned, seems to be to deliberately provoke irritation in others for no reason other than his own satisfaction. He also has a habit which some people find tedious, of couching much of what he says in mock-Shakespearean language. This irritates Xavier intensely, for some reason, but most other people simply ignore it.’

‘Is Webster content to be in The Lavender Girl ?’ asked Holmes.

‘So I believe. He has certainly given me no indication otherwise.’

‘And the remainder of the cast?’

‘They are in the main fairly young and inexperienced. As far as I am aware, they are all keen to play their parts in the production.’

Holmes sat for some time in silent thought, his brow furrowed in concentration, as he considered the matter. Presently, with a shake of the head, he took up his pipe from the hearth, knocked out the old tobacco and began to refill it with fresh. As he did so, he recounted briefly to his visitor the incidents which Isabel Ballantyne had described to us earlier. ‘Is there anything else you can recall which Miss Ballantyne has overlooked?’ he asked at length, as he lit a spill in the fire and applied it to the bowl of his pipe.

‘As a matter of fact,’ responded Hardy, ‘there is an incident of which she is quite unaware, as it occurred only yesterday evening, after she had left the theatre. To speak plainly, it was this incident which finally made up my mind that I would seek your advice. I did not wish to mention it earlier, whilst Miss Ballantyne was present, as I feared it would only increase her anxieties.’

‘The details, please!’

‘I cannot vouch for the reliability of my informant, who is one of my seamstresses, but I will describe it to you as it was described to me. I must first, however, tell you something of our costuming arrangements. You may not be aware of it, but many theatrical companies nowadays have only very small wardrobes of their own and hire in most of what they need from a few large specialist costumiers. The inevitable consequence of this, of course, is that whichever productions theatre-goers choose to attend, they are likely to see exactly the same costumes over and over again at different theatres. I made the decision, when we took over the Albion, that we would make as many of our own costumes as possible, and thus present the public with something fresh to look at on almost every occasion they could be lured into the theatre. I have, I believe, a certain flair in the costume line myself. I may be no Charles Worth, but, between us, my needlewomen and I have produced many memorable stage costumes. After all, you don’t need the services of a master tailor to produce outfits for pirates, brigands and the like, and my ladies have a real eye for pretty outfits to costume their own sex. Already, my decision to be independent of the large costumiers has reaped its own rewards: we now hire out our costumes to other companies and, I might say, make a handsome profit from doing so! I dare say the public is of the opinion that the actors are the most important part of a theatrical company, but their contribution to a production is frequently exaggerated – and I speak as one who was an actor for more years than I care to remember! Apart from exceptional talents, such as Isabel Ballantyne, most actors could in fact be replaced by others without any difference in the performance being apparent. This, however, is certainly not the case with seamstresses. A gifted needlewoman, Mr Holmes, is truly worth her weight in gold! It is for this reason that I am especially anxious at yesterday evening’s incident, which concerned these ladies. There are four of them and each one is a treasure! They have all been with me for almost as long as I have had the Albion and have played a large part in making our company the success it is. I cannot have them upset in this way! Were they to leave, I really don’t know how I should carry on!

‘Now, as to the incident in question. It occurred early yesterday evening, not long before the ladies were due to set down their needles for the day. One of them had left the sewing-room and entered the costume store-rooms, which are immediately adjacent, in order to select a dress, which was to be altered slightly and adapted for Miss Summers. These store-rooms, I should explain, consist of several interconnecting chambers. The two which are nearest to the corridor contain our ladies’ wardrobe. As the girl entered the first of these rooms, she had a lantern in her hand, for there is no gas laid on in there. She hung the lantern on a hook by the door and proceeded to sort through a rack of dresses. Whilst she was so engaged, she became conscious of a slight noise somewhere in the room. Next moment, something touched her upon the shoulder. She turned, and was startled to see someone standing immediately behind her.’