Read The Lost Files of Sherlock Holmes Online
Authors: Paul D. Gilbert
Gialli paused for a moment and stared, intently, into the eyes of Sherlock Holmes, before continuing.
‘Ah, but now to the most perplexing aspect of our little mystery.’ Gialli smiled mischievously, obviously fully aware of my friend’s penchant for the more unusual aspects of crime.
Holmes’s head jerked up, suddenly, with a look of hungry anticipation upon his face, very like an epicure waiting to be served with a gourmet meal.
With increased excitement, Gialli continued:
‘Despite the furore created by the incident in the Bust Room, and despite the easy access and wide berth afforded by the main entrance, no attempt was made at removing “The Dying Gaul” through that route!’
‘You are sure of this?’ Holmes asked, up on his feet once more, while trying to gauge the distance between the vacant plinth and the front entrance.
‘There is no doubt of it, Signor. Two guards at the entrance were put on their vigil at the first sign of trouble and secured the main entrance until my men arrived shortly afterwards. They have both affirmed that no attempt was made to pass them by persons either with, or without, the missing statue.’ Gialli earnestly replied.
‘Yet I am sure, a building such as this, has more than one exit, does it not?’ Holmes asked confidently. By now he had ceased his pacing. He placed his foot upon the plinth and rested his left elbow upon his knee, while he tried to
visualise
the chain of events that Gialli had just outlined.
‘Assuredly.’ Gialli replies. ‘Yet it is located at the far side of the building, and can only be reached by passing through a number of the other galleries. However that was, without doubt, the route taken by the thieves. The solid oak door was broken down and used as a means to traverse a stretch of mud that part of the original path has
degenerated
into. I do not understand it, Signor Holmes. For two determined men the front exit would be a far easier option, as I will now demonstrate.’
Gialli then proceeded to lead us on a trek through a
veritable
labyrinth of rooms and galleries, each containing striking images of the ancient past. With each room that we passed through on our ten minute journey, I became increasingly convinced that the thieves had undertaken a most foolhardy and perilous task. The more so when I considered the heavy weight of the object that they were attempting to procure. Holmes seemed similarly perplexed, no doubt wondering at the fact that the mind of Professor Moriarty was, supposedly, behind the planning of this scheme.
Upon reaching the far-flung escape route, we found that things were exactly as they had been described to us by our Roman colleague. We could see that the large wooden door had been used as a flat bridge to ease the transport of so cumbersome an object, from the doorway to the dry path beyond.
Holmes immediately withdrew his glass and used it to
scour the door and the gravel path for footprints and clues. He raised himself from the ground a few moments later and I was disappointed to note that there was not even a hint of success on his face. Gialli, evidently shared my disappointment, for he began tutting to himself and bemoaned the fate of the statue under his breath.
Then, as Holmes began re-crossing the ‘bridge’ he suddenly stopped in his tracks. ‘What is this!?’ He cried, while dropping to the ground once more. ‘Ha!’ was followed by ‘Excellent!’ and then, while still holding his glass, he summoned us both to join him. Offering his glass to each of us in turn, he indicated a small, almost invisible, scratch etched into the outer rim of the door.
Much to Holmes’s obvious impatience, Gialli and I exchanged glances that indicated our mutual confusion.
‘Do you not see?!’ Holmes exclaimed. He then continued in the most urgent manner. ‘It is small certainly, indeed I almost passed over it myself, and, initially appears to be most insignificant. Yet it is most certainly an indication that the foot of one of our intruders, missed its mark and slipped from the edge of the door. Upon realizing this, I merely cast my gaze two inches to the left and discovered this.…’ He diverted our attention towards a lightly indented, yet clearly defined boot mark in the surrounding mud.
Holmes jumped up immediately and ushered us back into the building. ‘Now, Inspector, there is a certain theory that I wish to put to the test. To do so I shall require the co-operation of you and two of your most stalwart officers. I should be pleased if they could meet me at this door, conveying a statue of similar size and weight to “The Dying Gaul” in as short a time as possible.’ With that Holmes turned away to re-examine the path.
‘What theory can he possibly mean?!’ Gialli asked of me in exasperation.
‘I cannot even speculate myself,’ I replied. ‘Yet he certainly has one, so my advice to you would be to set his arrangements in motion with all speed. You will find that it is in your best interests to do so.’
Gialli threw his arms up in the air and violently shook his head in a true Latin pique, before departing on his errand. Upon his return Gialli was accompanied by two enormous policemen who, at well over six feet in height, were both tall and broad. ‘I think that they enjoy the pasta a little too much!’ Was Gialli’s attempt at a mood lightening jest. This was shared and enjoyed, after translation, by his colleagues, but not by Holmes who was solemnly shaking his head upon his return from his search of the path.
‘The large gravel content of the path renders the task of assimilating clues an impossible one. Ah, but Inspector you have done exceedingly well!’ Holmes exclaimed, upon noticing a large statue of Perseus resting on the floor behind the hefty policemen.
‘Now, gentlemen, if one of you would be so kind as to stand over here in the mud, remaining there, quite still for a moment or two.’ Holmes requested, by way of a translation from Gialli. Once Holmes’s request was made known to them, the two officers could barely suppress their amusement at the strange ways of the English detective. This display of mirth, I was pleased to note, was immediately reprimanded with an icy stare from their superior.
The policemen immediately carried out Holmes’s bidding and then stood back whilst Holmes threw himself down to the ground once more to examine the newly created boot
prints. Apparently satisfied with his discovery, Holmes then asked both officers to lift up the statue and carry it to a patch of flat, even mud close by the newly made prints. They wielded this edifice with surprising and casual ease and carried it over to the precise spot, standing motionless with it, until such time as Holmes was satisfied. Thereupon, through the translation of Gialli once more, Holmes thanked the two men for their co-operation and asked them to return Perseus to his original berth.
Still bearing the expression of confusion, the two men returned to the museum whilst Holmes bent over the fresh prints, and busied himself for a few moments with his glass and a measuring tape that he always carried with him. Upon rising once more, Holmes looked pensively from Gialli to myself and then to Gialli again finally realizing, from our expressions, that an explanation was now
necessary
.
‘Oh, but surely gentlemen, is the thing not obvious?!’ Holmes asked, with a light laugh. Despite his
condescending
tone, Gialli and I listened intently to his every word. ‘Inspector, your very own testimony has eliminated the possibility that the statue was removed through the building’s main entrance. Whilst my own simple
experiment
will prove conclusively that “The Dying Gaul” did not pass this way either. You see, the depth of the boot print, created by our clumsy intruder was matched precisely by that of the officer who stood in the mud, empty-handed. However the depths of the prints, created once your men were incommoded by the statue, were considerably greater. Therefore, because we have proven that the statue can be nowhere else, I have concluded that “The Dying Gaul” still resides within the confines of the museum!’
‘Holmes, why should anyone go to such lengths and take such risks only to leave the object that they have sought behind them when they leave?’ I asked him sceptically. Then, to my surprise, Gialli pre-empted Holmes’s reply.
‘Ah, Signor Holmes, I think that I understand you now! During the past three weeks the intruders, masquerading as the missing security guards, have been discreetly preparing a hiding place, wherein to secrete the statue while all attention was being diverted to the incident in the Bust Room. This will allow them to return for the statue at a time when the risk has been greatly minimised. Naturally, they will have assumed that their ruse will have successfully caused us to broaden our search beyond the confines of the museum.’
Holmes clapped his hands excitedly: ‘Excellent Inspector! Your insight into the incident is almost as clear as my own. Of course, their plan might well have succeeded, had I not observed that minuscule mark on the fallen door, and even now we and your men would be conducting a fruitless search for a statue that was under our noses all the time!’
‘There is a mind of great guile and cunning behind this scheme,’ Gialli gravely pronounced.
I glanced at Holmes and saw that he had paled visibly at this suggestion, as if a large, dark cloud had passed
overhead
.
‘Moriarty?’ I suggested, in a tone of quiet reverence that the name hardly deserved.
‘Ah, of course, this demonic professor of yours, Signor Holmes.’ Gialli rejoined. ‘Alas, however, our inquiries so far have revealed no evidence of his presence here in Rome.’
‘Yet he is here, I am sure of it.’ Said Holmes, his voice almost inaudible.
‘However, we have no reasonable means of closing in on him until such time as those two elusive guards have been located and prevailed upon to assist us. In the meantime, I suggest that we return to our most luxurious hotel and obtain some sorely needed sustenance and rest.’
‘But what of “The Dying Gaul”?!’ Gialli exclaimed, aghast.
‘I have no means of knowing its exact location within the building.’ Holmes admitted casually. ‘So, short of pulling up every marble slab in the museum, I suggest, Inspector, that you mount a most vigilant, yet discreet, twenty-four hour guard. Rest assured, the gang will return soon enough and unwittingly do the hard work for us. Come Watson!’
Gialli shot me a parting glance of despair, but I had no answer for him and was merely carried along by Holmes’s irresistible wash. I was partly surprised and resentful at leaving the scene of the crime when a satisfactory
conclusion
was so nearly in our grasp. Yet I was equally glad that Holmes shared my need for food and rest, and I was
determined
to seize this opportunity.
This I surely did, and apart from a brief awakening in the early evening during which time I took a light supper in my room, I slept straight through till eleven o’clock the following morning. Despite the stimulation, provided by the events of the previous day, mine had been a deep, dreamless sleep and I awoke fully refreshed and more than a little ready for my breakfast.
With this in mind, I hastened to my friend’s room only to find, upon enquiring in the lobby, that he had gone out earlier after taking directions to the Roman Forum. It seemed that the allure of ancient Rome was too strong even for Sherlock Holmes to resist. I breakfasted alone,
therefore, and it was not until mid-afternoon that Holmes finally returned from his excursion. He appeared to be surprisingly drawn and exhausted. In contrast to my own rejuvenated demeanour and in answer to my look of concern and sympathy he replied:
‘This interminable waiting is considerably more taxing than any form of vigorous activity. If I see one more broken column, or ancient stone I shall surely despair! I take it no word has come as yet from Gialli. Tut, tut, I thought as much. I think that I shall smoke in my room for a while. Perhaps Gialli will make some progress this afternoon.’ Before I had the chance to utter even a single word of response, Holmes was gone!
As it transpired, Holmes’s estimate of the time required for Gialli’s inquiries to yield success proved to be optimistic in the extreme. An afternoon turned into a day and then two and all the while Holmes became more agitated and his excursions, from the hotel, more seldom. He remained in his room for the most part, smoking incessantly and only occasionally did he take advantage of the excellent cuisine provided by our hotel’s dining-room.
During the long agonising wait, I spent much of my time in marvelling at the splendour of St Peter’s or lost in wonder at the awesome Colosseum. Yet always, upon my return to the hotel, I was confronted by the sight of my poor friend’s continued frustration and progressive
dissipation
. My concern for Holmes was on the point of becoming despair, when we were awoken at dawn the following morning, with news from Gialli at the museum.
Gialli had not come to the hotel to meet us, preferring, most commendably, to remain on site and organise the initial inquiries. However, the messenger he had despatched
with our carriage carried a brief note which informed us of an attempted breach of security at the museum in the early hours of the morning. When I conveyed this information to Holmes who was, inevitably, smoking in his room, the change that came over him was as startling as it was
immediate
. By the time that he had joined me in the waiting landau outside, the transformation was complete. He even proffered me a jovial slap on the shoulders as he sprang into the carriage.
The driver was obviously under instructions from Gialli, for he moved off and made directly for the Capitoline without any prompting from us.
‘Watson,’ Holmes began excitedly. ‘Perhaps the game is not yet lost! If my surmise is correct and Gialli has followed my instructions exactly, I am sure we shall discover our elusive guards under close arrest upon our arrival at the museum.’
Sure enough, when Gialli greeted us at the base of the Capitoline steps there was a faint red tint of pleasure and excitement upon his round cheeks. He was, without doubt, in awe of his English confederate and greeted Holmes with a pronounced bow. Characteristically, Holmes dismissed this with a casual wave of the hand, immediately demanding information as he sprang down from the carriage.