Frank Thomas - Sherlock Holmes and the Golden Bird

Von Shalloway regarded him blankly and then his large head shifted to me. "Surely, not the good Doctor Watson?" he said, attempting a joke.

"We are being shadowed by a couple of Chinamen," I said instinctively and, perhaps, defensively, then wondered if I had said too much.

"You are now leaving Berlin?" questioned the police chief. When Holmes nodded, Von Shalloway smiled, like a Cheshire cat. "Well, we shall arrange for some difficulties with these Orientals' passports."

"No! No!" protested Holmes. "Actually, we have no proof about the two Chinamen. However, they do know we are staying at the Bristol Kempinsky. Doctor Watson and I wish to proceed with all possible speed to Constantinople and, as a precaution, would prefer to leave the Chinese in the dark as to our plans and destination."

"Ah, Holmes, it is so simple. You give me no problem whatsoever. I will have some of my men remove your baggage from the hotel. The Chinamen will be awaiting you and Watson and will be sadly disappointed. Now, let us consider your fastest route to Turkey."

Von Shalloway took railway schedules from his desk and, with them in hand, consulted a large-scale wall map.

"Fortunately, there is a fast train to Stuttgart which leaves in an hour. There, you can board the Orient Express. Sometimes, the Stuttgart Special is a little late but I shall make sure that the Express does not leave until you are aboard. Now let us see—we can get you to the Friedrichstrasse Station . . . No. Let us put you on the Special at the Zoological Gardens."

Holmes, whose knowledge of trains was positively uncanny, interrupted his friend's precise planning.

"The Stuttgart train does not stop at the Zoological Gardens station."

"It will this trip," said Von Shalloway, significantly. "But a moment, my friends," he added, crossing to the door of his well-appointed office. Opening it, he barked some staccato orders, which I could not decipher at all.

"Wolfie believes in quick action," said Holmes, laconically. "Our luggage will be retrieved from the Bristol Kempinsky in short order. This is being carried off in such a grand manner that I begin to feel like the King of Bohemia incognito."

"And enjoying it to the hilt," I muttered, drily.

"What was that?" said Holmes, sharply.

"Don't deny the good man his delight in exhibiting German efficiency. You have made him most happy."

While Holmes was considering this thought, Von Shalloway's short legs returned him to the wall map. "The Orient Express is by far your most rapid connection, gentlemen. But let us see. There are two possible routes available. One section runs to Friedrichshafen, crosses Austria and, with stops at Zagreb, Belgrade, Nis, then Sofia, Bulgaria and then into Constantinople. The other route goes to Vienna and on to Constanza, Romania where a boat train takes you to Constantinople. You have a choice."

It crossed my mind that the Orient Express had become most prestigious since its first trip from Paris to Vienna in 1883.

"By all means, let us go by land," I said, firmly, remembering our stormy channel-crossing to Calais with regrets.

"It is the fastest route," admitted the German policeman. Since Holmes made no comment, Von Shalloway continued. "So it shall be. Your tickets will be available at the stations."

Holmes was extracting his billfold, a gesture which provoked an expression of horror on Von Shalloway's face.

"Old friend, surely you would not insult me. Your hotel accommodations and transportation comes courtesy of the German government as a mere gesture of services past rendered." Sensing that Holmes would protest further, Von Shalloway overrode him. "From long experience we both know that sometimes crime does pay. Those of us dedicated to curtail it must stick together, nicht war ?" A sly smile crept across his face. "Besides, I have not forgotten that Bessinger affair. You showed me a few tricks there.* * Refer to The Secret Files of Sherlock Holmes

Holmes had said we wished to proceed to Constantinople with all possible speed and Von Shalloway had taken him at his word. With hurried farewells, we were ushered downstairs and into the private carriage of the police chief which whisked us to the Zoological Gardens Station. Our luggage was on the platform along with two of Von Shalloway's taciturn mechanical men who made themselves known to Holmes, handed him our tickets, arid saw that we had a compartment to ourselves when the Stuttgart Special came to a brief stop. As soon as we were aboard, the train puffed into motion after its unscheduled stop. High, dirty red chimneys ambled past the windows to be replaced soon by great houses and gay gardens as we departed from greater Berlin.

As we passed through Luckenwald, Holmes and I felt in need of sustenance and made our way to the dining car, where I did quite well with the menu, washing the rich food down with most excellent German beer. Evidently, our travels plus a substantial meal made sleep easy for Holmes informed me that we were beyond Wurzburg when I awakened in our compartment, slightly fuzzy-headed. The situation was agreeable to me since our journey through Anhalt and into Hesse provided no sights that I wished to view.

Things did get more interesting at this point since the Special progressed westerly to stop at Heidelberg. Though darkness was falling, I was able to view the beautiful approach of the "Jewel of the Nekar" and caught a glimpse of the spectacular fourteenth-century castle on the hill of this famous university city. From there, it was but a short run to Stuttgart, where again we were met by emissaries of the German police and escorted aboard the famed Orient Express.

I noted, when we were comfortably ensconced in a lavish compartment, that the attendant on our car was observant of our every wish. I later learned that this most posh of European trains had been delayed for fifteen minutes in its departure from Stuttgart to await our arrival. The French attendant, must have thought we were Krupp munitions tycoons or possibly members of the Hohenzollern family!

Neither Holmes nor myself felt hungry and I made haste to take advantage of our most comfortable berths.

The rattle and click of the rails, the gentle sway of the great train as it hurtled through the night, made sleep easy. I remember thinking that sharing the adventures of the supreme sleuth did lead to hectic situations, precipitous departures, and a series of events far removed from the normal existence of a general practitioner. However, apart from the matchless experiences, there was certainly the advantage of traveling in style when travel we did. And it all began with those famous words: "You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive." That was my last thought before the coming of day.

It was Holmes who awakened me the following morning and, my mind clouded with sleep, I was not conscious of the fact that his expression was grave.

"Where are we?" I mumbled.

"Zagreb," he stated. "We have company again."

Struggling upright in my berth, I gazed at him with a mixture of surprise and concern. "Not the Chinese?"

Holmes nodded. "I took a brief walk along the station platform when we arrived and spied them in the dining car."

"But how could they have followed us from Berlin?"

"They couldn't. I can only assume that they anticipated my next move—a visit to the art dealer, Hassim, in Constantinople. No other explanation is possible."

"What are we to do?"

"Act as though nothing has happened. Get into your things, ol' fellow, and we shall breakfast. If our Oriental friends are still in the dining car, so much the better.

As I struggled into my clothes with all possible speed, Holmes had a cautionary thought. "For all they know, we never saw them in Berlin or even suspect that they are on our heels. Therefore, don't stare at them as though they were international spies. Just ignore them completely and allow me to take care of the surreptitious observation."