Frank Thomas - Sherlock Holmes and the Treasure Train

Chasseur's face was becoming a fiery red. "Mr. Holmes, for a presumably clever man you are indicating a naiveté about financial matters. Books are inspected. What kind of sleight of hand do you fancy I indulged in?"

"Your words are apt," responded the sleuth. "The B & N was constantly expanding, engulfing other rail concerns. As long as you were altering your corporate structure, a clear picture could not be obtained, for you obfuscated matters with preferred issues, convertibles, deferred bonds, and all the prestidigitation of which you are an obvious master. It had a disadvantage in that the moment you ceased to expand, someone would be able to figure out that your original stock issue did not incorporate one hundred percent of the company, but two or three times that amount. That is why, right now, you are involved in the acquisition of the London, Tilbury and Southend Railroad."

"How did you learn of that?" spat Chasseur, with a venomous look at his secretary and then the speechless member of the board sitting beside him. Both, for some time now, had looked like they wished they were somewhere else. Somewhere far away.

"Ledger mentioned the L, T & S," said Holmes, "and I checked them out. The offer you made that concern was tempting indeed, but involved a relatively modest initial outlay, with the bulk to come in time payments. That's what you were buying—time. The London, Tilbury and Southend, as a matter of procedure, had one of their officers run a check on your assets. A pleasant man, I had quite a talk with him. He was much impressed by the four hundred thousand pounds in gold in the Bank of London, deposited to the account of Burton Hananish but with a deed of transfer to the B & N Railroad. Then there was more than that in promissory notes from the Credit Lyonnais. He gave an A-1 report to his superiors because, just at the time of his survey, you had all that collateral available, courtesy of your partners, Hananish and Trelawney. With the L, T & S in your grasp, you are ready to do business with the Deutsche Bank."

The first vestige of panic was forcing its way past Chasseur's guard and into his eyes. "German banks are attempting to secure a foothold in British industry and transportation ranks high in their plans. The Deutsche Bank has agreed."

Since Chasseur just regarded him dumbly, Holmes extracted the cable he had received prior to our departure from Baker Street. "You may not even know as yet, so let me inform you of the news obtained by an operative of mine in Berlin at this moment." He read the cable.

"'Cincinnati committed projection ten biggest credit mark BN.' Signed, Wally."

Chasseur had recovered some of his composure; but there was a grim look about him, as though all exits were being blocked.

"You can't siphon any sense from that gibberish," he said with a sneer.

"I can because it is the simple odd word code, which my associate knew I would recognize. The odd words in the message relate to the true words intended. The even words are legitimate. My correspondent is American, by the way, which aided my decoding. The first word, Cincinnati , is bogus, but in America that metropolis has a considerable German population, so I substituted Germans . Projection gave me a moment's thought till I came up with extension . I expected a message relative to a sum, and the biggest number that comes to mind is million. So we have: Germans committed extension ten million credit. Mark must mean line , and the BN refers to Birmingham and Northern. With a ten million credit line from the Deutsche Bank plus the London, Tilbury and Southend acquisition, you could have muddled your books for years and kept your unsuspecting stockholders at bay as well."

Chasseur was breathing heavily, like a bulldog with asthma.

Holmes lit a cigarette in an airy fashion.

"You might have gotten away with it, you know. Your hired assassin, Lightfoot McTigue, disposed of Trelawney and Michael, since you didn't need them anymore. This morning he took care of Hananish as well."

"But the banker shot at you, Holmes," I exclaimed involuntarily.

"I was not meant to die, Watson. Lightfoot had blocked the barrels of the shotgun, probably with lead, though wooden plugs would have done the job. There was a cable from Mr. Chasseur, here, warning Hananish of my coming. The man was teetering on the brink mentally, you see."

Holmes' somber eyes returned to Chasseur. "You knew the cable would panic him and that he would use his hidden weapon. How simple to have him do away with himself. You must have felt relieved when McTigue cabled you that Hananish was dead and, his job done, that he was leaving for the Continent."

Chasseur's blazing eyes fixed his secretary with a fierce glare. "You talked, you fool."

"Mr. Chasseur, I've never even met Mr. Holmes."

"Don't blame others, Chasseur. It was just a matter of pulling all the pieces together. Hananish's books are being gone over. Trelawney's have already been closely inspected by a man who can smell a swindle from a distance. This interview has been a lengthy one, but for a purpose. As we talk, officials are sequestering your records and files by virtue of a special warrant issued from Whitehall. The Crown considers England's transportation system vital to national security. I cautioned them to locate your payment to McTigue, which must have been made today. I'm rather interested in how much you gave him for killing three men."

Chasseur's face had reflected a kaleidoscope of emotions but was now almost placid, resigned. "I suppose, in the fashion of Dr. Watson's published case histories, that you were on to me from the very start?"

"I should have been," admitted Holmes. "Why did you, reputed to be astute, go to such pains to alienate me from the case? For that is what you did at the very beginning."

Chasseur shrugged and reached casually toward a small drawer on his right, but I was having none of that. My Smith-Webley came into view with rather good speed, I thought. Somehow my alertness did not seem to faze the man, for he smiled a crooked smile and displayed a rubber casing in his left hand. It had a button arrangement on the top over which his thumb hovered. I noted a connecting wire running down the leg of the table beside him.

"I rather thought the drawer would distract you," he said. "If you try to use that firearm, you'll kill every man in this room. I have but to press on this button and I release a charge of electricity from a wet cell battery, which will explode enough dynamite hidden under the floorboards to blow us to pieces. Gentlemen, I have lived lavishly, but always one step from exposure. The excitement, the zest of having dishonor and disgrace at my elbow constantly, lent a certain vitality and vigor to my aging bones, much as the frost of winter lends strength to the sap of trees and flavor to the fruit they produce. But I had to be prepared for the inevitable, since I figured to face it eventually; and I was determined to go out with as much color and éclat as I could."

"I don't believe you are prepared to destroy yourself," said Holmes in a calm voice.

"While there is the slightest chance, one does not embrace that idea," admitted the exposed tycoon. "But I can use my device to buy time. It's my standard procedure."

His eyes speared me. "Drop that revolver, or you'll have the lives of all around you on your conscience, to say nothing of losing your own."

Since Holmes nodded, I slowly laid my Smith-Webley on the oak table.

Chasseur chuckled. "It's probably an impossible thing, but I'm going to herd you gentlemen to the far end of the room. I'll be able to reach the door and secure it behind me before you can take action. Perhaps you'll track me down. The odds favor it. But at least I'll have a running start."