Frank Thomas - Sherlock Holmes and the Treasure Train

I was glad to bury myself in the contents of the package sent by Constable Bennett for our perusal on the lengthy trip. Naturally, I searched for some unusual fact that might excite an idea in Holmes' mind. My friend read at intervals, interrupted by pauses for reflection, as though arranging the facts. We were long past Reading when I broke the silence.

"Here's something that might be of interest, Holmes. A complete coverage of Charles Trelawney's testimony before the coroner's court of inquiry."

"I've already read another account, but let us see what your paper has to offer."

As Holmes pored over the newspaper I handed him, it was pleasant to lean back for a moment to relax. Darkness had long since fallen. The train was steaming through the Stroud Valley and approaching the Severn River when my head jerked upward with a start and I realized that I'd dozed off. Holmes was gazing out the window at the passing darkness. There was little to see outside the speeding train and what there was Holmes was not conscious of. His eyes had that deep, introspective look that signified that his mercurial brain was flitting over pieces of the puzzle and fitting them into a mosaic of the mind.

Sensing my awakening, the master sleuth turned toward me with a slow smile. "Some sleep may prove of future benefit," he said. "We could very well have busy times ahead of us."

I indicated the newspapers scattered around the compartment. "Has anything suggested itself to you?"

"At the moment I'm suffering from a plethora of surmise, conjecture, and hypothesis. Let us see what we have been able to discover up to this time."

Holmes leaned back in his seat, gazing at the ceiling, and his words wandered over the facts at our disposal.

"Ezariah Trelawney was a widower who lived with his adopted son, Charles. There had been indications of a recent strain in their relations, a point which the coroner's inquest did not pursue to any appreciable depth. It was the banker's habit to sit before the fire in his study of an evening, reading the works of Thackeray. Death was definitely established as occurring between the hours of eight and ten. Constable Bennett evidently was able to secure a forensic medicine expert promptly. The body was discovered at eleven in the evening by Charles Trelawney, who stated that he had just returned from Hereford, where he had been on business. According to his testimony, his adopted father was seated in his customary chair, his head slumped forward from the fatal blow. The windows of the room were closed. The door leading into the room was closed but not locked. Now, Charles Trelawney contends that he had just arrived on the ten forty-five from Hereford. However, in counter-testimony, the stationmaster at Shaw states that he definitely saw him arrive previously on the six o'clock special. It was the testimony of the stationmaster and some other evidence that resulted in Charles Trelawney's receiving a verdict of suspicion of murder at the inquest. Pending further investigation, the case is to go before the magistrates in Hereford."

"What other evidence do you refer to, Holmes?"

"Possibly, the papers you read stated there were two occupants in the Trelawney household. The cook and maid were not in residence and left, as was their custom, at seven. However, one of the papers, the Ross Inquirer , I believe, was more complete and noted the presence of a third occupant."

I registered amazement. "How could this fact go unrecorded elsewhere?"

"Ezariah Trelawney had a dog, Lama by name. The animal and the banker were inseparable. The old gentleman even took him to his bank office with him. Now I understand Constable Bennett's reference to the Silver Blaze affair."

"Of course," I said, with a flood of understanding. "The dog that didn't bark in the night."

"Dear me, Watson, that was but a trivial example of observation and inference. By the time you finished making our racehorse adventure public, you had it sounding like a veritable triumph of deductive reasoning."

This mild chastisement bothered me not at all. Holmes consistently contended that I tended to over-dramatize his superb reasoning powers. However, I knew that he secretly was delighted at having his métier appreciated and applauded.

"May I remind you, my dear Holmes, that no one else drew the inference that you did from the dog's behavior? Had you not, the great Silver Blaze might never have been found. But to return to the Trelawney affair, I see the similarity now. Since the dog, Lama, and his master were constantly together, no doubt the canine was in the murder room."

"He was. You will recall that the banker was seated and struck from behind. The outer doors to the house were not locked. Anyone might have entered, and the elderly gentleman could well have been dozing in his chair. But the prosecution will contend that had a stranger entered the house, the dog would have certainly alerted his master to the fact. However, Charles Trelawney was no stranger. Hence, it is the dog that may weave the rope that hangs him for murder."

This puzzled me. "My dear Holmes, instead of enjoying a quiet dinner we have two middle-aged men flying westward on what seems to be an open-and-shut case."

"Ah, but there is always a little more than meets the eye. I deduce this partially from items in the news accounts and also from the fact that Constable Bennett sent a plea for assistance. John Bennett, though buried in a backwater village, has carefully schooled himself in the latest methods of crime detection. I have carried on an intermittent correspondence with him for some time. He is alert and efficient. If he feels there are doubts and unresolved elements relative to this homicide, I am prepared to trust his instincts. Also, it would seem that the peaceful hamlet of Shaw was, in times gone by, the scene of deep-seated enmities and bloodshed. But these facets will be polished for us by the good constable upon our arrival."

When the train halted at the small station of Shaw, we were the only travelers to alight. A tall individual in a square-cut uniform coat with hat, who had been pacing the station platform, hurried to our side.

"Mr. Holmes," he said. "It is certainly a pleasure."

"It has been a while, Bennett," stated Holmes. "This is my associate, Dr. Watson."

Shaking hands with the constable, I wondered under what circumstances this country policeman and Holmes had met previously.

"I have rooms for you at the Queens Arms, which is our only inn hereabouts. It is but a short distance from here. The proprietor's wife is laying out a cold supper. Considering the time of your departure from London, I would imagine you could both do with a bite."

Bennett took the larger suitcase from me and led us down the street. In a short time we were in a pleasant room in the inn enjoying some excellent cold roast beef and a very tasty game pie.

Constable Bennett joined us in a yard of stout and lit up a cigar . As he ignited it and drew a first puff, he snatched the cigar from his mouth with an exclamation of surprise.

"How strange that I should decide to smoke this at such a time since it was a gift from the murdered man!"

"An Indian cigar," commented Holmes, "of the type rolled in Amsterdam."

"As to the murder, gentleman," said Bennett, "I trust the journals I sent provided some information."

"In outline form," was Holmes' response. "I was immediately intrigued by the fact that you were able to establish the time of death as between eight and ten on the fatal night."

"Fortunate happenstance," replied the constable. "At eleven, young Charles Trelawney came bolting out of his adopted father's house and almost ran into my arms. I was making a final round of the night just to make sure things were in order. I had just seen Dr. Devon Almont right here in the Queens Arms in the pub."