Unknown (35 page)

It was an afternoon, later in the
week, that my friend returned to our lodging, his thin face more
drawn than
usual. I
worried about his highly nervous state and not
for
the first tune, having seen him drive himself unceas
ingly
to the verge of absolute collapse and then, upon
the
solving of a case, stage a physical recovery that bor
dered
on the medically impossible.

Without a word, he disappeared
into his bedchamber,
returning
after a short period clad in his dressing gown and slippers. Seated
in his favorite chair, he brooded in
silence.
I advanced no greeting, nor posed any ques
tions,
feeling that should he wish the comfort of com
munication
it would be best to let him instigate it.

After another ten minutes, a long
sigh escaped him
and
he rose in search of his pipe.

"Forgive me, Watson, but I
have been much preoccupied of late."

"Small wonder," I
stated, and secretly congratulated
myself
on having said nothing.

Holmes fished in the toe of the
Persian slipper for his
shag
and soon there were clouds of acrid smoke.

"This matter of the statue
has provided nothing but a
series
of dead ends," he said, bitterly.

"I thought you were on to
something with that idea
of
the Pasha of Egypt diamond."

"As did I. The devilish thing
about it is that I keep
returning
to that theory. Common sense finally led me
to
some digging into Oriental life. Did you know, old
friend,
that in the Chinese calendar this is the year of
the
diamond?''

"I say," I exclaimed,
laying aside my paper, "that
must
provide some germ of a motive though I cannot
think
what."

"I can," said Holmes,
and then, in keeping with a
most
frustrating habit of his, let the matter drop. Before
I
could pose a question to explore this more thoroughly, he was off on
another tangent.

"There is a line of inquiry
which I have pursued that
may
pay off. I have a message that Orloff will be with
us
shortly and I trust that the news he brings will be of benefit."

Again the sleuth lapsed into
silence and I consoled
myself
that the security agent would soon break it.

On the stroke of six, Wakefield
Orloff tapped on
our
door. Orloff was one of the very few allowed imme
diate
access to Holmes at any time. While it was most
frequently
my chore to answer the door, this time
Holmes
sprang to his feet and opened our portal anx
iously
to usher the agent within.

Orloff's slightly moon-shaped face
was completely impassive as he removed his lethal bowler hat with its
steel-lined brim and placed it on an end table within easy reach.

"Well, man?" questioned
Holmes, impatiently.

My friend's high-strung manner did
not phase Orloff in the least, but then what would?

"We were able to secure the
best man on metals
available.
His tests were time-consuming, but necessar
ily
so. As to his findings, they will intrigue you. The Golden Bird is
not in its original state."

"Ah," said Holmes, with
gratification. He threw me a
sharp
glance. "No matter what happens now, Watson,
we
were right." His hawklike visage returned eagerly to
Orloff.

"Our man," continued the
security agent, "estab
lished
that a portion of the base of the statue is of a
gold
of a different quality and age than that of the rest
of
the statue."

"Conclusion?" There was
a tight smile on Holmes's
lips.

"A large part of the base had
been hollowed out as a depository for something. No indication as to
what the
object was
but our man is certain that it was removed
recently.
The filler gold used to solidify the statue's base
was
poured not long ago."

"Selkirk," stated Holmes
with conviction.

"Why him?" Orloff and I
asked together.

"It all fits. Finally, we are
dredging some sense from this morass. It is the diamond theory, of
course. I'm obsessed with it but there does not seem to be any
other
logical
explanation. Here are the facts." Holmes cen
tered
on Orloff for a moment. "In the Chinese calendar,
this
is the year of the diamond. Now, Chu San Fu's
daughter
is to be wed to Maurice Rothfils of the famous
banking
family. In the normal order of things, she will be presented at
court."

I realized my head was nodding as
I recalled the
meeting
with MacDonald some time back and his men
tion
of this coming social event.

Holmes continued, savoring the
words. I could see
that
his mind, at last, had a clue as to how to fit the
pieces
together. "The Chinese are renowned for their
pride."

"They are not alone in that,"
I blurted, without
thinking.

"But they make a fetish of it
...
a religion. Face is
everything.
What would a modern-day bandit like Chu
San
Fu desire above all things?" Holmes chose to an
swer
his own question. "His daughter, presented to Her Majesty,
wearing a gem that need not take second place to the crown jewels of
England. That is why he's risked
his
men recklessly in an attempt to secure the Golden
Bird.
Somehow he knew that there was a famous diamond inside it."

"But why a diamond?"
questioned Orloff. "I will
agree
that whatever was concealed within the statue fig
ures
to be a gem. Size alone narrows the choice to that. But why not a
ruby? An emerald?"

"Because there are so few
famous rubies or emeralds
or
pearls for that matter. Were this long-concealed
treasure
one of those stones we could probably name it now. But there are many
famous diamonds and we seek
a
particular one. The daughter of Chu San Fu must be able to wear it
openly. Therefore, it cannot be a stolen
one.
The solution to this entire matter is but a hair's
breadth
away. Somewhere there is recorded history of a
unique
diamond that will fit our requirements. Now I
must
find out its name."

"Would you wish to speak to
Doctor Bauer again?"
asked
Orloff.

"Let me do some preliminary
research first. As the eminent expert remarked in this very room:
'Diamonds
are a big
field.' I must narrow down the possibilities or
I
will but waste his time."

Orloff was not satisfied. "But
what about Chu San
Fu?"

"The Oriental has ceased to
be a problem. Now we
know
what he is after or soon will. Basil Selkirk is the stumbling block."

Events proved Holmes wrong on both
counts.

18

The
Taking and the Rescue

191

The following morning, I had some
medical calls to make. Again, Holmes had risen in advance of me or
possibly he had
never gone to bed. His manner never
indicated
whether he had slept or not. But somebody,
and
I suspected Billy, had been busy. Holmes was
seated
in his chair adjacent to the fireplace deep in a
book
and the desk had a number of unfamiliar volumes scattered on it,
several open.

"What have we here?" I
said, indicating the books.

"Research, Watson."
Holmes's irritated and frus
trated
manner had disappeared. He was hot on the
scent
again and the fact delighted him. "Works by such
experts
on diamonds as Jean Baptiste Tavernier and
our
own Edwin Streeter. Benvenuto Cellini wrote some
interesting
comments on diamonds. Some scholarly
work
on social life by Capefigue and Brantome are
also
revealing."

"Good heavens!" I said
with a rueful smile. "We are most often knee-deep in your
criminal files and now we
are
inundated by books on diamonds."

"A momentary inconvenience,
Watson."

"Have you discovered
anything?"

"As yet, no. But I will. Once
one knows what one
looks
for, the job becomes easier. Of course, we do
have
a last resort." I gazed at Holmes blankly, so he
continued.
"A cablegram from Berlin informs me that
our
client, Vasil D'Anglas, will be in London in two
days.
Surely you realize, ol' fellow, that he knows the
secret
that was concealed in the Golden Bird."

"Why not just ask him,
Holmes?"

"Will he give a truthful
answer?" The sleuth laid his
book
aside. "Besides, he is a client.
We
must inform
him,
not the
reverse."

Before I could think of a suitable
retort to this,
Holmes
shifted subjects again.

"You know, this whole matter
does present a most
inventive
idea. A diamond of great value is concealed.
Not
in some object which might be mislaid or lost. No
indeed,
but in an object of considerable worth itself.
The
greater treasure is secreted within the lesser. I cannot recall
of a similar situation. Fascinating!"

Following my breakfast, I left
Holmes pouring over
aged
books and descended to Baker Street to hail a
hansom.
There was one conveniently available and I
stepped
within it and was about to give the driver a
Mayfair
address. That is the last thing I remembered
for
a considerable period of time. . . .

When I awoke, I was lying on a
pallet and someone was shaking my shoulders, forcing me back to
con
sciousness.
When my eyes became accustomed to the
dim
light, I was surprised at the gentleness of the hands
that
drew me erect and to my feet and half-supported
me
as a wave of nausea caused me to sag. The man was mountainous, with
arms like the hawsers on a sea-going
liner.
His head was shaven and looked lost on a bull
neck
that tapered into the shoulders of a gorilla. His
hamlike
hands steadied me and he stood patiently till
my
brain stopped spinning. After a moment, he said, in a soft voice:
"You come."