"It can't hurt now," was Mr. Sherlock Holmes's comment when, for the
tenth time in as many years, I asked his leave to reveal the following
narrative. So it was that at last I obtained permission to put on
record what was, in some ways, the supreme moment of my friend's career.
Both Holmes and I had a weakness for the Turkish Bath. It was over a
smoke in the pleasant lassitude of the drying-room that I have found
him less reticent and more human than anywhere else. On the upper
floor of the Northumberland Avenue establishment there is an isolated
corner where two couches lie side by side, and it was on these that we
lay upon September 3, 1902, the day when my narrative begins. I had
asked him whether anything was stirring, and for answer he had shot his
long, thin, nervous arm out of the sheets which enveloped him and had
drawn an envelope from the inside pocket of the coat which hung beside
him.
"It may be some fussy, self-important fool, it may be a matter of life
or death," said he, as he handed me the note. "I know no more than
this message tells me."
It was from the Carlton Club, and dated the evening before. This is
what I read:
"Sir James Damery presents his compliments to Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and
will call upon him at 4.30 to-morrow. Sir James begs to say that the
matter upon which he desires to consult Mr. Holmes is very delicate,
and also very important. He trusts, therefore, that Mr. Holmes will
make every effort to grant this interview, and that he will confirm it
over the telephone to the Carlton Club."
"I need not say that I have confirmed it, Watson," said Holmes, as I
returned the paper. "Do you know anything of this man Damery?"
"Only that his name is a household word in Society."
"Well, I can tell you a little more than that. He has rather a
reputation for arranging delicate matters which are to be kept out of
the papers. You may remember his negotiations with Sir George Lewis
over the Hammerford Will case. He is a man of the world with a natural
turn for diplomacy. I am bound, therefore, to hope that it is not a
false scent and that he has some real need for our assistance."
"Our?"
"Well, if you will be so good, Watson."
"I shall be honoured."
"Then you have the hour--four-thirty. Until then we can put the matter
out of our heads."
I was living in my own rooms in Queen Anne Street at the time, but I
was round at Baker Street before the time named. Sharp to the
half-hour, Colonel Sir James Damery was announced. It is hardly
necessary to describe him, for many will remember that large, bluff,
honest personality, that broad, clean-shaven face, above all, that
pleasant, mellow voice. Frankness shone from his grey Irish eyes, and
good humour played round his mobile, smiling lips. His lucent top-hat,
his dark frock-coat, indeed, every detail, from the pearl pin in the
black satin cravat to the lavender spats over the varnished shoes,
spoke of the meticulous care in dress for which he was famous. The
big, masterful aristocrat dominated the little room.
"Of course, I was prepared to find Dr. Watson," he remarked, with a
courteous bow. "His collaboration may be very necessary, for we are
dealing on this occasion, Mr. Holmes, with a man to whom violence is
familiar and who will, literally, stick at nothing. I should say that
there is no more dangerous man in Europe."
"I have had several opponents to whom that flattering term has been
applied," said Holmes, with a smile. "Don't you smoke? Then you will
excuse me if I light my pipe. If your man is more dangerous than the
late Professor Moriarty, or than the living Colonel Sebastian Moran,
then he is indeed worth meeting. May I ask his name?"
"Have you ever heard of Baron Gruner?
"You mean the Austrian murderer?"
Colonel Damery threw up his kid-gloved hands with a laugh. "There is
no getting past you, Mr. Holmes! Wonderful! So you have already sized
him up as a murderer?"
"It is my business to follow the details of Continental crime. Who
could possibly have read what happened at Prague and have any doubts as
to the man's guilt! It was a purely technical legal point and the
suspicious death of a witness that saved him! I am as sure that he
killed his wife when the so-called 'accident' happened in the Splügen
Pass as if I had seen him do it. I knew, also, that he had come to
England, and had a presentiment that sooner or later he would find me
some work to do. Well, what has Baron Gruner been up to? I presume it
is not this old tragedy which has come up again?"
"No, it is more serious than that. To revenge crime is important, but
to prevent it is more so. It is a terrible thing, Mr. Holmes, to see a
dreadful event, an atrocious situation, preparing itself before your
eyes, to clearly understand whither it will lead and yet to be utterly
unable to avert it. Can a human being be placed in a more trying
position?"
"Perhaps not."
"Then you will sympathize with the client in whose interests I am
acting."
"I did not understand that you were merely an intermediary. Who is the
principal?"
"Mr. Holmes, I must beg you not to press that question. It is
important that I should be able to assure him that his honoured name
has been in no way dragged into the matter. His motives are, to the
last degree, honourable and chivalrous, but he prefers to remain
unknown. I need not say that your fees will be assured and that you
will be given a perfectly free hand. Surely the actual name of your
client is immaterial?"
"I am sorry," said Holmes. "I am accustomed to have mystery at one end
of my cases, but to have it at both ends is too confusing. I fear, Sir
James, that I must decline to act."
Our visitor was greatly disturbed. His large, sensitive face was
darkened with emotion and disappointment.
"You hardly realize the effect of your own action, Mr. Holmes," said
he. "You place me in a most serious dilemma, for I am perfectly
certain that you would be proud to take over the case if I could give
you the facts, and yet a promise forbids me from revealing them all.
May I, at least, lay all that I can before you?"
"By all means, so long as it is understood that I commit myself to
nothing."
"That is understood. In the first place, you have no doubt heard of
General de Merville?"
"De Merville of Khyber fame? Yes, I have heard of him."
"He has a daughter, Violet de Merville, young, rich, beautiful,
accomplished, a wonder-woman in every way. It is this daughter, this
lovely, innocent girl, whom we are endeavouring to save from the
clutches of a fiend."
"Baron Gruner has some hold over her, then?"
"The strongest of all holds where a woman is concerned--the hold of
love. The fellow is, as you may have heard, extraordinarily handsome,
with a most fascinating manner, a gentle voice, and that air of romance
and mystery which means so much to a woman. He is said to have the
whole sex at his mercy and to have made ample use of the fact.
"But how came such a man to meet a lady of the standing of Miss Violet
de Merville?"
"It was on a Mediterranean yachting voyage. The company, though
select, paid their own passages. No doubt the promoters hardly
realized the Baron's true character until it was too late. The villain
attached himself to the lady, and with such effect that he has
completely and absolutely won her heart. To say that she loves him
hardly expresses it. She dotes upon him, she is obsessed by him.
Outside of him there is nothing on earth. She will not hear one word
against him. Everything has been done to cure her of her madness, but
in vain. To sum up, she proposes to marry him next month. As she is
of age and has a will of iron, it is hard to know how to prevent her."
"Does she know about the Austrian episode?"
"The cunning devil has told her every unsavoury public scandal of his
past life, but always in such a way as to make himself out to be an
innocent martyr. She absolutely accepts his version and will listen to
no other."
"Dear me! But surely you have inadvertently let out the name of your
client? It is no doubt General de Merville."
Our visitor fidgeted in his chair.
"I could deceive you by saying so, Mr. Holmes, but it would not be
true. De Merville is a broken man. The strong soldier has been
utterly demoralized by this incident. He has lost the nerve which
never failed him on the battlefield and has become a weak, doddering
old man, utterly incapable of contending with a brilliant, forceful
rascal like this Austrian. My client, however, is an old friend, one
who has known the General intimately for many years and taken a
paternal interest in this young girl since she wore short frocks. He
cannot see this tragedy consummated without some attempt to stop it.
There is nothing in which Scotland Yard can act. It was his own
suggestion that you should be called in, but it was, as I have said, on
the express stipulation that he should not be personally involved in
the matter. I have no doubt, Mr. Holmes, with your great powers you
could easily trace my client back through me, but I must ask you, as a
point of honour, to refrain from doing so, and not to break in upon his
incognito."
Holmes gave a whimsical smile.
"I think I may safely promise that," said he. "I may add that your
problem interests me, and that I shall be prepared to look into it.
How shall I keep in touch with you?"
"The Carlton Club will find me. But, in case of emergency, there is a
private telephone call, 'XX.31.'"
Holmes noted it down and sat, still smiling, with the open
memorandum-book upon his knee.
"The Baron's present address, please?"
"Vernon Lodge, near Kingston. It is a large house. He has been
fortunate in some rather shady speculations and is a rich man, which,
naturally, makes him a more dangerous antagonist."
"Is he at home at present?"
"Yes."
"Apart from what you have told me, can you give me any further
information about the man?"
"He has expensive tastes. He is a horse fancier. For a short time he
played polo at Hurlingham, but then this Prague affair got noised about
and he had to leave. He collects books and pictures. He is a man with
a considerable artistic side to his nature. He is, I believe, a
recognized authority upon Chinese pottery, and has written a book upon
the subject."
"A complex mind," said Holmes. "All great criminals have that. My old
friend Charlie Peace was a violin virtuoso. Wainwright was no mean
artist. I could quote many more. Well, Sir James, you will inform
your client that I am turning my mind upon Baron Gruner. I can say no
more. I have some sources of information of my own, and dare say we
may find some means of opening matter up."
When our visitor had left us, Holmes sat so long in deep thought that
it seemed to me that he had forgotten my presence. At last, however,
he came briskly back to earth.
"Well, Watson, any views?" he asked.
"I should think you had better see the young lady herself."
"My dear Watson, if her poor old broken father cannot move her, how
shall I, a stranger, prevail? And yet there is something in the
suggestion if all else fails. But I think we must begin from a
different angle. I rather fancy that Shinwell Johnson might be a help."
I have not had occasion to mention Shinwell Johnson in these memoirs
because I have seldom drawn my cases from the latter phases of my
friend's career. During the first years of the century he became a
valuable assistant. Johnson, I grieve to say, made his name first as a
very dangerous villain and served two terms at Parkhurst. Finally, he
repented and allied himself to Holmes, acting as his agent in the huge
criminal underworld of London, and obtaining information which often
proved to be of vital importance. Had Johnson been a "nark" of the
police he would soon have been exposed, but as he dealt with cases
which never came directly into the courts, his activities were never
realized by his companions. With the glamour of his two convictions
upon him, he had the _entrée_ of every night-club, doss-house, and
gambling-den in the town, and his quick observation and active brain
made him an ideal agent for gaining information. It was to him that
Sherlock Holmes now proposed to turn.
It was not possible for me to follow the immediate steps taken by my
friend, for I had some pressing professional business of my own, but I
met him by appointment that evening at Simpson's, where, sitting at a
small table in the front window, and looking down at the rushing stream
of life in the Strand, he told me something of what had passed.
"Johnson is on the prowl," said he. "He may pick up some garbage in
the darker recesses of the underworld, for it is down there, amid the
black roots of crime, that we must hunt for this man's secrets."
"But, if the lady will not accept what is already known, why should any
fresh discovery of yours turn her from her purpose?"
"Who knows, Watson? Woman's heart and mind are insoluble puzzles to
the male. Murder might be condoned or explained, and yet some smaller
offence might rankle. Baron Gruner remarked to me----"
"He remarked to you!"
"Oh, to be sure, I had not told you of my plans! Well, Watson, I love
to come to close grips with my man. I like to meet him eye to eye and
read for myself the stuff that he is made of. When I had given Johnson
his instructions, I took a cab out to Kingston and found the Baron in a
most affable mood."
"Did he recognize you?"
"There was no difficulty about that, for I simply sent in my card. He
is an excellent antagonist, cool as ice, silky voiced and soothing as
one of your fashionable consultants, and poisonous as a cobra. He has
breed in him, a real aristocrat of crime, with a superficial suggestion
of afternoon tea and all the cruelty of the grave behind it. Yes, I am
glad to have had my attention called to Baron Adelbert Gruner."
"You say he was affable?"
"A purring cat who thinks he sees prospective mice. Some people's
affability is more deadly than the violence of coarser souls. His
greeting was characteristic. 'I rather thought I should see you sooner
or later, Mr. Holmes,' said he. 'You have been engaged, no doubt, by
General de Merville to endeavour to stop my marriage with his daughter,
Violet. That is so, is it not?'
"I acquiesced.
"'My dear man,' said he, 'you will only ruin your own well-deserved
reputation. It is not a case in which you can possibly succeed. You
will have barren work, to say nothing of incurring some danger. Let me
very strongly advise you to draw off at once.'
"'It is curious,' I answered, 'but that was the very advice which I had
intended to give you. I have a respect for your brains, Baron, and the
little which I have seen of your personality has not lessened it. Let
me put it to you as man to man. No one wants to rake up your past and
make you unduly uncomfortable. It is over, and you are now in smooth
waters, but if you persist in this marriage you will raise up a swarm
of powerful enemies who will never leave you alone until they have made
England too hot to hold you. Is the game worth it? Surely you would
be wiser if you left the lady alone. It would not be pleasant for you
if these facts of your past were brought to her notice.'
"The Baron has little waxed tips of hair under his nose, like the short
antennae of an insect. These quivered with amusement as he listened,
and he finally broke into a gentle chuckle.
"'Excuse my amusement, Mr. Holmes,' said he, 'but it is really funny to
see you trying to play a hand with no cards in it. I don't think
anyone could do it better, but it is rather pathetic, all the same.
Not a colour card there, Mr. Holmes, nothing but the smallest of the
small.'
"'So you think.'
"'So I know. Let me make the thing clear to you, for my own hand is so
strong that I can afford to show it. I have been fortunate enough to
win the entire affection of this lady. This was given to me in spite
of the fact that I told her very clearly of all the unhappy incidents
in my past life. I also told her that certain wicked and designing
persons--I hope you recognize yourself--would come to her and tell her
these things, and I warned her how to treat them. You have heard of
post-hypnotic suggestion, Mr. Holmes? Well, you will see how it works,
for a man of personality can use hypnotism without any vulgar passes or
tomfoolery. So she is ready for you and, I have no doubt, would give
you an appointment, for she is quite amenable to her father's
will--save only in the one little matter.'
"Well, Watson, there seemed to be no more to say, so I took my leave
with as much cold dignity as I could summon, but, as I had my hand on
the door-handle, he stopped me.
"'By the way, Mr. Holmes,' said he, 'did you know Le Brun, the French
agent?'
"'Yes,' said I.
"'Do you know what befell him?'
"'I heard that he was beaten by some Apaches in the Montmartre district
and crippled for life.'
"'Quite true, Mr. Holmes. By a curious coincidence he had been
inquiring into my affairs only a week before. Don't do it, Mr. Holmes;
it's not a lucky thing to do. Several have found that out. My last
word to you is, go your own way and let me go mine. Good-bye!'
"So there you are, Watson. You are up to date now."
"The fellow seems dangerous."
"Mighty dangerous. I disregard the blusterer, but this is the sort of
man who says rather less than he means."
"Must you interfere? Does it really matter if he marries the girl?"
"Considering that he undoubtedly murdered his last wife, I should say
it mattered very much. Besides, the client! Well, well, we need not
discuss that. When you have finished your coffee you had best come
home with me, for the blithe Shinwell will be there with his report."
We found him sure enough, a huge, coarse, red-faced, scorbutic man,
with a pair of vivid black eyes which were the only external sign of
the very cunning mind within. It seems that he had dived down into
what was peculiarly his kingdom, and beside him on the settee was a
brand which he had brought up in the shape of a slim, flame-like young
woman with a pale, intense face, youthful, and yet so worn with sin and
sorrow that one read the terrible years which had left their leprous
mark upon her.
"This is Miss Kitty Winter," said Shinwell Johnson, waving his fat hand
as an introduction. "What she don't know--well, there, she'll speak
for herself. Put my hand right on her, Mr. Holmes, within an hour of
your message."
"I'm easy to find," said the young woman. "Hell, London, gets me every
time. Same address for Porky Shinwell. We're old mates, Porky, you
and I. But, by Gripes! there is another who ought to be down in a
lower hell than we if there was any justice in the world! That is the
man you are after, Mr. Holmes."