The Misadventure of Shelrock Holmes (47 page)

"Only my modesty has prevented me — "

"Your — "

"My modesty."

"That, I take it," said J. Smith carefully, "is another middle name of yours that has hitherto escaped my notice. You wish me to assume, I suppose, that you notably distinguished yourself against this bloke?"

The Great Detective looked displeased.

"I should hardly have called him a bloke," he replied. "He was a graduate of one of the older universities and an extremely rich man. He had gold-rimmed ventilation holes in his hat. That was what first attracted my attention to him; it was only later that I began to get some glimmering of his diabolical plot."

"To overthrow the British Empire?"

"To strike," said the Great Detective, "at its very roots."

"I knew it would be one or the other," J. Smith nodded. "How?"

"It was a long time before I found out — "

"You didn't have to tell me that, either."

"The country was being terrorized by an infamous secret society," went on the Great Detective, "known as the Hippy Hops. I see you smile; there is, I admit, something humorous about the name. It was originally a band of children — those children who read every day of the adventures of Hippety Hop, Hoppety Hip and Boomph, on the Children's Page of that great London newspaper the Daily. Hippety Hop and Hoppety Hip, if I remember rightly, were badgers."

"Badgers?"

"Badgers. Boomph, on the other hand, was a South Australian wombat. Their adventures were bizarre in the extreme. But when I

was on the case the Hippy Hops as a children's society had long ceased to exist; the name was now applied to a band of ruthless men who were terrorizing the country at the bidding of a master-mind. Every morning there was news of some fresh criminal act of theirs. Every morning some householder would complain that he had lost the keys of his piano."

"Lost the keys of his piano?"

"To the last sharp — to the last flat."

"Do you mean to tell me," enquired J. Smith hoarsely, "that these Hiccups or whatever they were galloped about the country pinching piano keys?"

The Great Detective nodded with gravity. "I do. That was the most curious aspect of the matter. No one could imagine what they meant to do with all these piano keys. At the same time robberies of circus elephants began to increase to an alarming extent. Losses were reported from circus after circus throughout the land; and the crowning touch came one morning when all the elephants at the Zoo were found to have vanished without trace during the night. It was when the billiard-saloon outrages started that I had my inspiration. Men disguised as badgers — "

"And wombats?"

"Possibly — broke into billiard halls and billiard rooms all over the country, held up the players, if necessary with revolvers, and stole all the billiard balls they could lay their hands on. Thousands upon thousands of billiard balls disappeared utterly in this way within a day or two."

"And what did you do with your inspiration?"

The Great Detective drew himself up. "I acted upon it swiftly and — ahem!—terribly. The Foreign Office had given me a free hand. Realizing where the next blow would fall, I put an armed policeman in the bedrooms and the library of practically every well-to-do household in the country. I was triumphantly justified. That very night each of those policemen was in a position to arrest a member of the Hippy Hops. Each bedroom was visited by one of these ruthless criminals in search of ivory-backed hair-brushes; each library by one hoping to steal some ivory chessmen. This," the Great Detective explained, coughing pompously, "I had foreseen. The master criminal behind the Hippy Hops was out to corner ivory."

"This cheese whom you dignify by the title of master criminal," remarked J. Smith, "seems to me to have suffered from divided aims. How could he hope to do well with his ivory cornering when all the time his heart was in striking at the very roots of the British Empire?

"One aim," explained the Great Detective, "was incidental to the other. Investigating further, I was amazed at the grandiosity of the scheme. Soon after this, if I had not acted, table-knives, paper-knives and napkin-rings would have begun to go; and in due course practically all the ivory in the country would have been in the hands of that criminal."

"But the sources of supply -

"Teeming," said the Great Detective, "with his agents. Had not broken up the gang one trembles to think of the result, for a satellite or minion of the leader had the ear of the Prime Minister. Egged on by him, the Government had entered into a contract to supply a foreign Power with vast quantities of ivory. Had they been unable to fulfil it there would probably have been a war. And in a

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war —

"Don't tell me — don't tell me!" said J. Smith. "In a war we should have been defeated, because ivory was the only thing that could stand against a deadly ray invented by this feller and sold to the foreign Power beforehand. Am I right?"

"You are," said the Great Detective complacently.

"Ha!" J. Smith remarked. "Now tell me that tin tie-pin of yours was given you as a memento by the Prime Minister and then perhaps I can get some sleep."

Detective: SHERLOCK HOLMES

CHRISTMAS EVE by S. C. ROBERTS

Until now "Christmas Eve" has been to all intents and purposes unavailable to the general public. Its only previous appearance was the author's private edition, printed in 79^6 by the University Press of Cambridge, England, and limited to 100 copies. We are happy to bring you this coveted collector's item, one of the rarest pastiches of Sherlock^ Holmes.

(SHERLOCK HOLMES, disguised as a loafer, is discovered probing in a sideboard cupboard for something to eat and drin^.)

HOLMES : Where in the world is that decanter ? I'm sure I —

(Enter DR. WATSON, who sees only the bac\ of HOLMES'S stooping figure)

WATSON: ("Turning quickly and whispering hoarsely off stage) Mrs. Hudson! Mrs. Hudson! My revolver, quick. There's a burglar in Mr. Holmes's room. (WATSON exits)

HOLMES: Ah, there's the decanter at last. But first of all I may as well discard some of my properties. (Tafes off cap, coat, beard, etc., and puts on dressing gown) My word, I'm hungry. (Begins to eat sandwich) But, bless me, I've forgotten the siphon! (Stoops at cupboard in same attitude as before)

(Enter WATSON, followed by MRS. HUDSON) WATSON : (Sternly) Now, my man, put those hands up.

HOLMES : (Turning round) My dear Watson, why this sudden passion for melodrama?

WATSON: Holmes!

HOLMES: Really, Watson, to be the victim of a murderous attack at ' your hands, of all people's -and on Christmas Eve, too. WATSON: But a minute ago, Holmes, there was a viUainous4ookmg scoundrel trying to wrench open that cupboard - a really criminal type. I caught a glimpse of his face.

HOLMES- Well, well, my dear Watson, I suppose I ought to be grate-

?ulfor the compliment to my make-up. The fact is that I have

spent the day loafing at the corner of a narrow street leading , out

of the Waterloo Road. They were all quite friendly to me there.

Yes I obtained the last little piece of evidence that I wanted

io' dear up that case of the Kentish Town safe robbery -you

remember? Quite an interesting case, but all over now.

MRS. HUDSON: Lor', Mr. 'Olmes, how you do go on. Still, I'm learnm

never to be surprised at anything now. HOLMES: Capital, Mrs. Hudson. That's what every criminal investiga-

tor has to learn, isn't it, Watson? (MRS. HUDSON leaves) WATSON: Well, I suppose so, Holmes. But you must feel very pleased to think you've got that Kentish Town case off your mind before Christmas.

shck season I suppose even criminals' hearts are softened. The esuh hat I have'nothing to do but to look out of the window and

watch other people being busy. That litde pawnbroker at the

corner, for instance, you know the one, Watsoi WATSON: Yes, of course.

HOLMES: One of the many shops you have often seen, but never observed my dear Watson. If you had watched that pawnbroker's tn door a carefully as I have during the last ten days you would have noted a striking increase in his trade; you might have ob-served also some remf rkably well-to-do people going mto *e shop There's one well-set-up young woman whom I have seen at 1 four times. Curious to think what her business may have been.

. . . But it's a shame to depress your Christmas spirit, Watson. I see that you are particularly cheerful this evening.

WATSON : Well, yes, I don't mind admitting that I am feeling quite pleased with things today.

HOLMES: So "Rio Tintos" have paid a good dividend, have they? WATSON: My dear Holmes, how on earth do you know that?

HOLMES: Elementary, my dear Watson. You told me years ago that "Rio Tintos" was the one dividend which was paid in through your bank and not direct to yourself. You come into my room with an envelope of a peculiar shade of green sticking out of your coat pocket. That particular shade is used by your bank — Cox's — and by no other, so far as I am aware. Clearly, then, you have just obtained your pass-book from the bank and your cheerfulness must proceed from the good news which it contains. Ex hypothesi, that news must relate to "Rio Tintos."

WATSON: Perfectly correct, Holmes; and on the strength of the good dividend, I have deposited ten good, crisp, five-pound notes in the drawer of my dressing table just in case we should feel like a little jaunt after Christmas.

HOLMES: That was charming of you, Watson. But in my present state of inertia I should be a poor holiday companion. Now if only — (Knoc\ at door) Come in.

MRS. HUDSON : Please sir, there's a young lady to see you.

HOLMES : What sort of young lady, Mrs. Hudson ? Another of these young women wanting half a crown towards some Christmas charity ? If so, Dr. Watson's your man, Mrs. Hudson. He's bursting with bank-notes today.

MRS. HUDSON: I'm sure I'm very pleased to 'ear it, sir; but this lady ain't that kind at all, sir. She's sort of agitated, like . . . very anxious to see you and quite scared of meeting you at the same time, if you take my meaning, sir.

HOLMES: Perfectly, Mrs. Hudson. Well, Watson, what are we to do? Are we to interview this somewhat unbalanced young lady?

WATSON: I£ the poor girl is in trouble, Holmes, I think you might

at least hear what she has to say. HOLMES: Chivalrous as ever, my dear Wa,»n-bring the lady up,

Mrs. Hudson.

MRS. HUDSON: Very good, sir (To the lady outside) This way, M.ss. (Enter Miss VIOLET DE VINNE, an elegant but

distracted girl of about twenty-two) HOLMES: (Bowing slightly) You wish to consult me? M,ss DE V.NNE: (Nervously) Are you Mr. Sherlock Holmes HOLMES: I am-and this is my friend and colleague, Dr. Wa.son. WATSON: (Coming forward and holding out hand) Charmed, I am sure, Miss —

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as possible?

M,ss DE VINNE: I will try, Mr. Holmes. My name is de Vinne. My

I*er and I live together in Bayswater. We are not very we

off, but my father was ... well ... a gentleman. The Counte

of Barton is one of our oldest friends -

HOLMES: (Interrupting) And the owner of a very wonderful pearl

necklace.

Miss DE VINNE: (Started) How do you know that, Mr. Holmes? HOLMES: I am afraid it is my business to know quite a lot about

other people's affairs. But I'm sorry. I interrupted. ( Miss DE VINNE: Two or three times a week I spend the day with Lady Barton and act as her secretary in a casual, friend 1,^ way wr letters for her and arrange her dinner-tables when she and do other little odd jobs. HOLMES: Lady Barton is fortunate, eh, Watson? WATSON: Yes, indeed, Holmes. Miss DE VINNE: This afternoon a terrible thing happened. I was ar-

ranging some flowers when Lady Barton came in looking deathly white. "Violet," she said, "the pearls are gone." "Heavens," I cried, "what do you mean?" "Well," she said, "having quite unexpectedly had an invitation to a reception on January 5th, I thought I would make sure that the clasp was all right. When I opened the case (you know the special place where I keep it) it was empty — that's all." She looked as if she was going to faint, and I felt much the same.

HOLMES: (Quickly) And did you faint?

Miss DE VINNE: No, Mr. Holmes, we pulled ourselves together somehow and I asked her whether she was going to send for the police, but she wouldn't hear of it. She said Jim (that's her husband) hated publicity and would be furious if the pearls became "copy" for journalists. But of course she agreed that something had to be done and so she sent me to you.

HOLMES: Oh, Lady Barton sent you?

Miss DE VINNE : Well, not exactly. You see, when she refused to send for the police, I remembered your name and implored her to write you ... and ... well . . . here I am and here's the letter. That's all, Mr. Holmes.

HOLMES: I see. (Begins to read letter} Well, my dear lady, neither you nor Lady Barton has given me much material on which to work at present.

Miss DE VINNE: I am willing to answer any questions, Mr. Holmes. HOLMES: You live in Bayswater, Miss Winnie? WATSON: (Whispering) "De Vinne," Holmes.

HOLMES: (Ignoring WATSON) You said Bayswater, I think, Miss Winnie ?

Miss DE VINNE: Quite right, Mr. Holmes, but —forgive me, my name is de Vinne.

HOLMES : I'm sorry, Miss Dwinney —

Miss DE VINNE: DE VINNE, Mr. Holmes, D...E...V...

HOLMES : How stupid of me. I think the chill I caught last week must

have left a little deafness behind it. But to save further stupidity on my part, just write your name and address for me, w, 1 you ?(Hand hi pen and fafcr. on u,h,ch M,ss DE V.NNE ««i«) That s better Now, tell me, Miss de Vinne, how do you find Bayswater for

shopping? Miss DE VINNE: (Surprised) Oh, I don't know. Mr. Holmes, I

hardly —

HOLMES: You don't care for Whrteley's, for instance? Miss DE VINNE: Well, not very much. But I can't see ... HOLMES: I entirely agree with you, Miss de Vinnc. Yet Watson, you