Frank Thomas - Sherlock Holmes and the Sacred Sword

"It's a thin reed, Watson, forced on me by the chill wind of desperation."

"But why? Sounds like a capital idea to me."

"If the man or men have any sense, they will not enter this cell without both of us plainly visible. Possibly Chu San Fu is served by idiots, but I doubt it. Like calls to like."

"That went past me, Holmes."

"The Chinaman has rallied the remnants of his once-considerable underworld empire in this last-ditch effort. He must be using a considerable amount of what we might call 'local talent.' I'll wager that from the bazaars and low haunts of Cairo he has secured the most accomplished of the scoundrels at hand. Possibly my scheme should be abandoned in the hopes that we will be taken to Chu and can wreak some havoc in the ranks of the ungodly then."

As my friend mused, I had crossed to the door and was peering out of the narrow grating into the dark corridor beyond. I never did learn if Holmes decided to try his scheme or not, for suddenly there was a voice. It was close; it did not come from the corridor; and I wheeled round as though I had received an arrow in my posterior, half expecting to find some form that had materialized in our cell. But there was only Holmes, and I must say he looked as amazed as I felt.

"Holmes . . . you iss in der? Nicht war ?" The voice was low in tone, almost a whisper, but its timber gave it a carrying quality. Wildly, I looked round the cell for some flue or vent but could locate none.

"Come verrunter und help me get into dis here place." My friend had sprung to his feet and rushed to the window. As I followed in his wake, he cautioned me back.

"Watch the door, Watson. An intrusion at this time would be inconvenient."

I obeyed him promptly, my mind in a whirl. The voice came from outside the window. Holmes had said we couldn't get out of there without wings. How then could anyone get in? I stole a quick glance from my station at the grate and saw Holmes pulling a thin, wiry form through the opening. There was something strange about his appearance, and for the moment I could not divine what it was. But help was at hand, and with considerable effort I forced myself to gaze into the corridor and listen intently so that I could warn Holmes if anyone approached.

"How is it without, Watson?"

"No sign of light. No sound either."

"Then I guess we're safe for the moment."

Whether Holmes meant that I could abandon my post or not I did not know, but I could not help returning to the center of the room, such was my curiosity regarding this most unusual happening.

Our visitor was removing strange-looking, rubberized objects that were attached to his hands with a glove arrangement. I noted that there were similar devices on both knees and on his feet as well.

"Who are you, sir?" I stammered.

"Zo, who else could climb up here—four flights and flat as a fancuchen! Pretty goot job if I zay zo myself."

"Shadow Schadie," exclaimed Holmes, and his smile was half mirth and half admiration. "The only man who can walk up walls."

"Vell, maybe not der only vun, but der only vun in Cairo."

"But what are you doing in Egypt?" I heard the words but didn't realize I was saying them, I was so amazed.

"It's der payoff," was Schadie's reply as though he were discussing the price of a mutton chop. "You go to der clinker und you see mine son und I don't know vat you say to him but der vord iss oudt. He iss gonna be all right up here in der noggin."

The famous thief was tapping his forehead and there was the light of excitement in his deep-set brown eyes.

"Dey iss stickin' him in der booby hatch because he ain't got all his stuff upstairs put now he iss makin' big recovery. Dose doctors, dey don't know vat to dink, but dey iss lettin' him oudt from der nut farm."

"I wondered about that," said Holmes. "Then Heinrich Hublein is your son."

"Vot kinda detectiff iss you? You should haf known dat right along. Shadow Schadie is der only man vot can valk up vails. Zo you dink some clunker iss comin' along vat can do it? Nein, he iss mine son. It's in der genes. Dot's how he done it."

Such was the conviction and intensity of the thief's words that he did set me back on my heels, but then he paused for a moment and continued in a more reasonable tone.

"But I vill tell you diss. Vork hard he must haf to master der technique. Dis kinda t'ing, it iss not zimple."

"Well," said Holmes, and his calm acceptance of this strange story did grate on my nerves a bit. "I'm delighted to learn that your son has regained his sanity, but that still doesn't explain your opportune presence in Cairo."

Schadie regarded him suspiciously. "You iss Sherlock Holmes, no?"

The sleuth's upraised palm halted more words from the German. "Wait! You told me—the payoff. Inasmuch as young Heinrich is now sane, you feel an obligation to Doctor Watson and myself and followed us to Cairo."

"Now dat's, der kind off deductions vot I'm expecting from you." There was a glint of humor in the second-story man's eyes.

"Then I'll attempt one more. It was you who followed Doctor Watson when he visited the native quarter before. In a dark alley, not far removed from this place, you sandbagged a giant Manchurian who had captured him."

"About Manchurians I don't know. But he vas a big fellow undt he vas a Chink."

"Holmes, how did you ever figure that out?" I blurted.

"Oh, come now, Watson. Who ever heard of flowerpots in Cairo? You know we can carry this lucky star thing of yours just so far."

I did bridle a bit, I must confess. "That's all very well, Holmes, and we've had a nice discussion, but how are we going to get out of here? Mr. Schadie may be able to walk up walls, but I don't think he can walk through that door there."

"Dot's a fact," admitted the German.

"Now there is good reason to feel the plan we discussed will work, Watson. The advent of our welcome ally here will allow both of us to be in view and seemingly harmless."

Suddenly the sleuth tensed and his head cocked to one side in the familiar manner that indicated his abnormally acute sense of hearing was at work.

"Quick," he whispered, "over by the window, Watson."

I understood his intent immediately. From the window I would be in full view of anyone looking in through the grate in the door. Also, my form would conceal the fact that the bars had been removed. As I crossed to the aperture, Holmes handed one of the iron bars to Shadow Schadie and indicated, in dumb show, for the German to stand where the open door would conceal him. Evidently he did not have to signal Schadie what to do with the bar at his disposal.

In another moment, Holmes had joined me by the window.

"Rather glad I fastened this neckpiece since it signaled our cell to Schadie," he said in a calm voice, his dexterous fingers unknotting the material, which he placed in a coat pocket. I could hear the footsteps that had alerted Holmes plainly, and then a face peered through the grate. Whoever it was played a lantern through the opening and into the room, and its rays rapidly found the both of us by the window. There was an exchange of Arabic from without, and then the sound of a key in the lock. The lantern remained trained on us unwaveringly. The door was opened with confidence, and the man with the lantern entered first. After him came another Arabian with an ominous-looking Mauser automatic that he held with a familiar air.

I was surprised to see one of his race with a handgun since cold steel is their most natural weapon, but Holmes had said that Chu would have recruited the most proficient of the ruffians available.

As the man with the gun gestured towards us, Holmes stepped forward as though to speak, and suddenly his right foot came up. The toe of his shoe caught the wrist of the Arab, and the Mauser spun into the air. There was a clunk in the background, and the lamp fell to the floor followed by a body. The gunman's mouth opened, but before he could utter a cry of pain or alarm, there was another soft clunk and his eyes rolled as he fell like a wet sack of grain, joining his comrade on the hard floor.