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

‘No, sir. I ate at home with the family, then went round about seven o’clock to see my brother, who lives a short distance away, in Clerkenwell, and was there until the police-constable called.’

After Smith and Stoddard had left us, Holmes sat a while in silent thought. Then he stood up abruptly, as if having reached a decision, and took a few sheets of blank foolscap from the desk.

‘Come,’ said he. ‘Let us see if we cannot make more definite progress.’

‘Do you see any likelihood of ever apprehending the criminal?’ I asked.

‘I have hopes,’ said he. ‘It rather depends on the statements I shall now take, in the other office.’

In the hallway we met Inspector Stoddard who had just come in through the front door of the chambers.

‘I have had another word with Mason, the gate-keeper,’ said he. ‘He says he remembers now that he saw someone he did not recognise, loitering in King’s Bench Walk at about half past four, just as it was getting dark; but as that way through the Temple is used by all manner of people simply as a short-cut from the Strand to Blackfriars Bridge, he did not think it worth mentioning before.’

‘That is interesting,’ said Holmes. ‘Would you be so good as to ask Mason to step across here, Stoddard?’

The junior barristers’ office was similar in size to Sir Gilbert Cheshire’s, but of a somewhat more cluttered appearance. The fire had been banked up and blazed fiercely in the grate, so that the room was free of the dank, chill atmosphere that pervaded the rest of the chambers. Oliver Brown sat at his desk, a brandy glass in his hand, staring gloomily across the room, and did not look up as we entered. Stephen Lewis was sitting beside the hearth, his head in his hands. The chief clerk, Elijah Smith, was perched on the edge of a chair beside the window, a nervous expression on his face.

‘Do you think that we might be permitted to leave soon?’ Brown enquired of us. ‘It’s getting very late and I can’t think that there is anything more we can tell you.’

‘Very shortly,’ returned my companion. ‘If you would just be so good as to sign a formal statement, as to when you last saw Sir Gilbert Cheshire alive and your subsequent whereabouts this evening.’

Stoddard had entered as he spoke, accompanied by the ginger-haired gate-keeper.

‘There is no need—’ began the policeman, but Holmes interrupted him.

‘As you say, Inspector, there is no need to wait until tomorrow. We may as well get it over with now and then we shall not need to trouble anyone further. You say you left these chambers at half past six,’ he continued, addressing Brown, ‘at which time Sir Gilbert was alive and well, walked to Rule’s, where you passed an hour, and then took a cab home.’

‘That is correct,’ the other replied.

‘Would you mind signing this paper to that effect, then?’ said Holmes, who had scribbled a few lines on one of his sheets of foolscap.

Brown took the sheet from him with a suspicious narrowing of the eyes. ‘I do not understand the purpose of this,’ said he, glancing at what Holmes had written, and making no move to pick up a pen, ‘nor what you suppose its legal status might be.’

‘Its legal status,’ returned Holmes, ‘is simply that it is a statement of the facts, according to you and, as such, you can scarcely object to signing it.’

The other man grunted and, with a show of reluctance, took a pen and signed the paper with a flourish. Holmes then repeated his questions to Lewis, who also signed the paper. He then turned to the chief clerk, scribbled down a couple of lines and passed across the sheet, which Elijah Smith signed slowly and carefully.

‘Now, Mr Mason,’ Holmes continued, turning to the gate-keeper: ‘You last saw Sir Gilbert Cheshire alive at about twenty to seven, I understand.’

‘That’s right; when I brought in some coal and raked the grates out.’

‘And you did not see him again?’

‘No, sir, I didn’t. I met a friend of mine in the Cock, just afore seven, and was there till twenty to eight, when I came home.’

‘Very well. If you will just sign this?’

Mason appended his signature to the few lines which Holmes had written and returned the paper to him. Brown drained his glass, set it down on the desk-top and wiped his moustache.

‘Will that be all?’ said he in a weary voice.

‘We have finished here now,’ said Stoddard. ‘My men can find no clue, so we may as well lock up, Mr Holmes, and let these gentlemen get off home. We can do no more tonight.’

‘I would wish to give you my view of the matter first,’ said Holmes, in a tone which commanded attention.

‘Very well,’ responded the policeman. The others, who had stood up and begun to put on their coats, sat back down again, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and resignation.

‘This brutal and shocking crime,’ began Holmes, ‘appeared at first to be the work of an unknown assailant, someone to whom Sir Gilbert Cheshire had probably opened the door himself and who had then, at the point of his knife, forced Sir Gilbert to open the cash-box, and had, in the course of a struggle, inflicted the wound which killed him.’

‘That must be so,’ observed Brown, nodding.

‘However,’ Holmes continued, ‘our investigation of the premises has revealed a number of features which cast doubt on such an interpretation. In the first place, there is no evidence of a struggle having taken place. In the second, it is apparent that the intruder lit a candle in the hallway and passed upstairs with it, where he forced entry to Sir Gilbert’s private study and broke open a cupboard there, containing personal documents and records.’

There was a murmur of interest at this information and then a silence fell upon the chamber once more, as Holmes continued:

‘Once Sir Gilbert had returned from the dining-hall, all the gas would be lit – as indeed was the case when Mr Ormerod passed and saw the open door – and it would therefore have been perfectly pointless for anyone to have lit a candle. Nor, once the downstairs gas was lit, need the intruder have feared that lighting the upstairs gas-jets would increase the chances of his being detected. It seems clear, then, that the intruder lit his candle when there was no other illumination in the chambers, that is to say, before Sir Gilbert returned from dinner. No doubt he lit a candle in order to keep the light to a minimum and hoped to have finished what he was doing before Sir Gilbert returned. But it follows from this, that he was not admitted to the premises by Sir Gilbert, but admitted himself, there being no one else here at the time. It further follows from this that the intruder had his own key, for the door would certainly have been locked.’

There was an odd stillness in the chamber, as those present absorbed this information. Each must have realised, as did I, that the four men who possessed a key to the North Walk Chambers were all together in the room at that moment.

‘Now,’ continued Holmes, ‘we know that Sir Gilbert left the dining-hall a little earlier than was his habit, in order to return here to work. We may suppose, then, that the intruder, believing himself to have time in hand, was surprised when he heard the unlocking of the front door. He must have extinguished his candle, descended to the ground floor and, in his turn, surprised Sir Gilbert in his office. We do not know what Sir Gilbert’s reaction was, but it is clear that he knew the intruder, for a second chair was moved behind the desk and placed beside his own: it does not seem likely that a stranger, threatening Sir Gilbert with a knife, would have troubled to procure a chair for himself. The two men evidently sat in discussion for some time. The fact that the cash-box was open before the attack took place suggests that money came into this discussion. What happened next we cannot say for certain, but it seems likely that there was a disagreement, as a result of which the intruder inflicted the fatal wound upon Sir Gilbert.