PINNACLE BOOKS NEW YORK (2 page)

Chasseur
almost choked trying to find words. No
fool,
he knew what was happening but still didn't
quite
accept it.

"Mr.
Holmes, do you expect me to believe that
you
are refusing to act on behalf of the B & N
Railroad?"

"I
expect nothing from you," stated my friend, making for the door.
Suddenly Holmes came to a halt, and I almost stumbled on his heels.
He fixed
the financier with his steely
glance and the strength
of his
commanding personality was a tangible
thing
in the great room.

"You
are forced," he continued in a measured tone, "to accept
the fact that I have no intention of
investigating
the gold robbery for you."

As
the sleuth opened the oak door for our depar
ture,
leaving the group of astonished men in his
wake,
Chasseur rallied with a parting shot.
"A
moment, sir," he called. I turned, as did my
friend,
and noted that the rail magnate was now
standing,
a faint smile playing around the corners of his mouth.
Subconsciously, I interpreted it as a
gesture
of defeat.

"I
pride myself on accuracy, Mr. Holmes. If
Ledger
here does not fill the bill and Moran is
incarcerated,
then who is the leading big-game
hunter?"

Holmes
replied in a lighter tone. "I care not a fig for who is the
finest heavy game shot or most wily
shikari
our eastern empire has produced, for
man is the most dangerous game. If you ask me who is the
greatest
man-hunter, the answer is simple. Sher
lock
Holmes of Baker Street."

As
he strode from the room and I hastened after him, my concern
regarding our financial state fled
like
the dreams of yesteryears. Never could I recall an interview that
came to such a gratifying conclu
sion.
In the field of accomplishment, the entire
incident
contributed not one whit of good, but it
had
been so delightfully satisfying to that childish
ego
that lurks in all of us. If the boost to my morale
proved
costly, so be it. Such are the feelings of one
living
in reflected glory. A rebuff to Holmes was a
slight
to me, for I shared in his triumphs and
defeats.

As
we strode from the Birmingham and Northern
building
and into the brilliantly gas-lit station bar
nearby
for a libation, I was ready to wager five against one that the
pompous Alvidon Chasseur
would not try
and play fast and loose with the likes
of
Sherlock Holmes again.

Chapter
2

An
Interesting Puzzle in Rural Surroundings

AFTER
HIS JOUST with the world of high finance,
Holmes
was not inclined to hail a hansom and
return
to Baker Street. Instead, the underground
took
us as far as Aldersgate. From there we walked
to
a vegetarian restaurant close by Saxe-Coburg
Square,
where we enjoyed a light lunch. By now I
realized
what he had in mind and was not sur
prised
when we then made for St. James's Hall.
Sure
enough, there was a Sarasate concert and I spent the greater part of
the afternoon wrapped in
the subtle
rhythms of the great Spanish musician.

It
was still daylight when we descended from the
hansom
that had brought us back to Baker Street. I had my latch key ready
but was not allowed to use
it for the
front door burst open at our approach,
revealing
Billy. The page boy had evidently been
watching
for our arrival from within. His face
mirrored
concern as he extended a telegram to
ward
the great detective.

"Mr.
'Olmes—I'm that put out."

"About
a telegram, Billy? We receive lots of
those,
goodness knows." Holmes' voice was sooth
ing.

And
send a few as well
, I thought.

"But,
sir, I don't know when this 'ere missive
came,"
responded Billy, closing the outer door
behind
us. "Mrs. 'Udson didn't 'ear the bell, bein' in
back
cleanin' the 'ole bleeding arfternoon and I was
not
on ta premises."

Billy
fancied words like
missive
and
premises
,
which he had acquired via his close
contact with
Holmes.

Our
concerned page boy now picked up a bulky
package
from the hall table.
"Then, just
afore you come, this package arrived.
The
bloke wot brought it said it 'ad been sent by
train
from Shaw wiv instructions to be delivered
by
special messenger on arrival."

"Perhaps
the telegram will explain the package,"
said
Holmes, mounting the stairs. "Best come up
with
us, Billy, as fast action may be called for."

Within
our sitting room, Holmes opened the
telegram,
which his eyes devoured rapidly.
"No
mystery here," he said. "Billy, have a han
som
downstairs in fifteen minutes. Then hustle
over
to the cable office and send a message to
Constable
Bennett, Police Station, Shaw. 'Leaving five-thirty from Paddington.
Holmes.'" The detec
tive looked
at Billy keenly. "You can remember
that,
I'm sure."

Billy
tapped his head with a forefinger. "Word fer
word,
Mr. 'Olmes. I'm on me way."

Billy
took what he called "the detectin' business"
seriously.

As
the door closed behind our page boy, Holmes
posed
a question.
"Can you throw some
things in a bag quickly,
Watson? I have
had previous dealings with one
John
Bennett, who is the constable in Shaw. It is a
little
country town in Herefordshire. Bennett is
experiencing
difficulties relative to the Trelawney
matter
and requests assistance."

I
needed no urging. My army experience with the
Northumberland
Fusiliers had made me a prompt
traveler
and Holmes was certainly used to what
sea-goers
call "the pierhead jump." It was but a
short
time later that we were aboard the five-thirty
at
Paddington. Holmes, with his long gray travel
ing
cloak and cloth cap, disposed of a small valise
and
placed the bulky package, which had just made
the
same trip in reverse, alongside him on the seat.
I
put a larger bag in the luggage rack, and we
settled
down for our trip to Herefordshire. Soon we
were
traveling westward at fifty miles an hour and
far
removed from familiar surroundings.

"Perhaps
you will explain the Trelawney mat
ter,"
I suggested, "as well as that package evidently
sent
to us in some haste."

"Fortunately,
I have a grip on the essential facts
of
the Trelawney case," replied Holmes. "This
parcel
contains the recent papers from the area,
which
we can study on the way down. The London
press
made very brief reference to the affair. I can tell you that Ezariah
Trelawney, a banker by trade,
was
murdered while alone in his house in Shaw.
The
cause of death was a severe blow by a blunt
weapon
on the back of his head. As I understand it,
an
adopted son, Charles Trelawney, is in custody
now
on suspicion of murder. Bennett's telegram
made
reference to the Silver Blaze affair but did
not
explain the connection. Since we are fortunate
in
having this carriage to ourselves, I suggest we go
through
these country journals and see what addi
tional
facts we can uncover. In the bucolic sur
roundings
of Herefordshire, a murder is bound to
capture
a major portion of the newsprint."

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 in
quiry."

"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 approach
ing
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 speed
ing 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 estab
lished 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 spe
cial.
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."