David Davies - The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - The Veiled Detective

“How do you know all this?” I said quietly, trying desperately not to reveal my agitation.

Holmes waved his arms like errant butterflies. “I have my methods,” he replied, leaning backwards, allowing puffs of smoke to spiral to the ceiling. “It is the job of the detective to know many things and to keep abreast with items of current information in the criminal world. Within the last fortnight, two jewellers have met rather sudden ends. A suspicious death and a suicide, which in itself is always a suspicious death.”

“Two jewellers?”

“Experts in their field. Not only for judging the quality and price of sparkling stones — but also in the cutting and shaping of such gewgaws.”

“What has this got to do with the Elephant’s Egg?”

“Everything! I believe these two men to have been murdered.”

“Why?”

“You were always good with the questions. That piercing inquisitiveness is one of your more accomplished qualities. Why indeed? The two men — their names are incidental — were experts at cutting up large stones — jewels, agates, rubies — into a series of smaller items. If you were to steal a red blob as large as the Raja’s ruby, you would want it to be cut up into several slivers, glittering babies which collectively would fetch as much as the mother egg. It would be almost impossible to sell the original — but smaller treasures would be an easy sale.’

The logic was clear, and I was certain Holmes was right.

“The deaths were clumsy and hurried. The coincidence is too great to ignore. A large precious stone is due to arrive in this country and be placed on display — bait enough for the greediest and sharpest of thieves — and two men who would be capable of... adapting the stone for easy disposal are themselves disposed of.”

“But why murder, when, if what you say is true, these two jewellers would be useful to the supposed thief?”

“ If they agreed to his demands. There are still some upstanding fellows in our community who would resist the temptation to break the law, whatever the consequences. However, once they had been approached and once they had refused, our master thief could hardly let them go.” Holmes drew his forefinger along the line of his neck.

I shuddered, not solely because of the graphic image he had presented, but also because I knew he was right. Moriarty would have no compunction in disposing of these recalcitrant jewellers. Moriarty was a man of ice, without warmth or consideration for others. We were all just pawns on his great chessboard, and we could be taken at any time to enhance his game.

“I investigated these murders. Scotland Yard, blinkered as usual, saw nothing suspicious in the men’s demise, but I collected sufficient evidence to convince myself that I was correct. My next move was to find out how many other jewellers in the city were expert enough to carry out this specialised operation. Surprisingly there are not many — but one name stuck out from the rest: Patrick Graves.”

The name meant nothing to me.

“He was involved in a counterfeiting scandal some years ago. A matter concerning a diamond necklace. Not every stone was a fake, and so it was easier to convince the unsuspecting buyers that they were all genuine. He could sell three necklaces for the price of one set of stones. A tidy profit when you are dealing with items of fifty thousand pounds a time. He had aristocratic connections and a good lawyer: he was found not guilty. So much for British justice.”

“If, as I think you are saying, this Graves fellow has a natural criminal bent, why wasn’t he approached first by... by the...?”

“Master thief,” added Holmes, as I stumbled over my words.

I nodded.

“I’m not sure. Perhaps a thief should not employ a thief. There is no honour among thieves. But after two failures with upright gentlemen, it seemed to me that Graves was the next likely candidate. Two nights ago, I visited his house in Chiswick and I was just in time to witness his abduction — or, to be more precise, I was just in time to prevent his abduction, but I failed. There was only one of me and there were three of them... brawny fellows, too.”

“I should have been with you!” I blurted the words without thinking, and regretted my utterance instantly.

Holmes gave me a wry grin. “Perhaps you should. You might have prevented me from receiving a blow to the back of my neck and a nasty stab wound to my leg.”

“Great heavens! Let me see the wound. How severe is it?”

“The wound is fairly deep, but it has not severed any arteries. I have stitched it myself in an amateur but acceptable fashion. It will heal in time.”

“Why didn’t you come to me for treatment?”

Ignoring my question, Holmes rose and crossed to the window and looked out. “These are dangerous times, Watson. I know I am being watched. That’s why you saw me in disguise just now. I never leave the house without assuming some other persona than my own. More than ever I feel that my life is in danger.”

“In what way?”

“Well, I think you know, my friend,” he said slowly.

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

With a wave of his hand, he beckoned me to the window.

“See that fellow down there? The one in the brown bowler and grey overcoat?”

“Yes.”

“Another of Moriarty’s men. On guard to watch over me.”

“Moriarty’s men...?” I found myself repeating the phrase dumbly as my stomach began to tighten with fear.

Holmes gave me a sour grin. “Professor James Moriarty, the greatest criminal in London Town. He’s very adept at employing fellows to spy on people, as you well know.”

The words had hardly left his lips before I saw his fist coming towards me. The action was so sudden and so surprising that I remained rooted to the spot. His knuckles smashed against my chin with great force, and my head exploded with sharp pain and bright dazzling lights. Staggering backwards, my knees gave way and I found myself sinking to the floor.

When my vision cleared, I observed Holmes standing over me with a strange expression on his face. He gave a wry chuckle and then, leaning forward, he held out his hand to pull me to my feet.

“That was very satisfying. I have been wanting to do that for a long time,” he declared.

Dazed by the blow and bewildered by Holmes’ behaviour, I dropped into the chair by the fire, rubbing my chin. It was then that the full significance of his actions sank in.

“My God,” I said. “You know!”

“Yes, Watson, I know. I probably know everything. I know that your real name is Walker. I know that you were drummed out of the army for drunkenness, and I know that you have been a paid employee of Professor James Moriarty since arriving back into this country. My dear fellow, I certainly wasn’t going to set up home with someone about whom I knew absolutely nothing. I did a little digging, and soon discovered your real identity. That wasn’t very difficult. I have been building up a dossier on Moriarty for some time, as, no doubt, he has on me. When I discovered that you had been in his company just before we were introduced, it was a simple deduction. Obviously, you were to be his spy in the camp.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “And yet you still went ahead with the arrangement?”

“I was flattered that I warranted so much attention.” He chuckled. “And I liked you. You seemed a decent enough fellow, and I thought it would be fun playing cat and mouse with the two of you.”

“So, you’ve known all this time.”

“Of course I have. What sort of detective would I be if I could not detect that the man with whom I shared lodgings was in the employ of the most powerful criminal in the city?”