Читать книгу Sherlock Holmes: Repeat Business - Lyn McConchie - Страница 7

SECRETS

I was gazing out of the window at Holmes’ rooms when I spied a familiar figure. I watched until I was certain I knew its destination before turning to my old friend.

“Holmes, it appears you are about to receive a visit from a man you aided only a year ago. Yet here he comes to call again, and although his difficulty does not seem to weigh upon him so heavily as did the affair of the beryl coronet, still he does bear the aspect of a man who has some trouble upon his mind.”

Holmes joined me at the window briefly. “Ah, Mr. Alexander Holder. Yes, you are right, Watson. He is bringing me a pretty little problem, but not as something realized, I do believe, more as a precaution. Well, I shall admit him. Do you care to remain and listen, I should be glad of your company.”

I assured Holmes I should be delighted to assist in any way I could, and I therefore settled back in my chair and awaited the arrival of a man Holmes had once saved from public ruin, while also rescuing the man’s son from disgrace and imprisonment. I guessed that it was with these memories Alexander Holder had ventured to bring yet another problem to lay before the keen wits of my old friend.

It was only minutes before the banker was shown into the room where we at once made him welcome. He was little changed, still well dressed, but in subdued and respectable clothing, and his frame remained as portly and dignified as ever. Yet I could see the trouble in his eyes and the hope that gleamed as he looked upon the face of Sherlock Holmes. In no time at all he was seated by the cheerfully blazing fire with a glass of wine in one hand, and we saw him relax a little—although the worried look yet remained to furrow his brow.

“Now,” said Holmes, looking at the banker. “I feel you have a small problem concerning your bank, not great as yet, but you fear it could grow. What can you tell me?”

“Why? That I do not know how you do it, Mr. Holmes, yet you are perfectly correct.“

“Then let you speak freely and we shall listen.” So with that assurance Alexander Holder drank off the final mouthful of his wine and embarked on his tale.

“As you both know, I am senior partner in the private bank of Holder & Stevenson. Our record of confidentiality has always been unimpeachable—but I have reason to fear that this may be so no longer. It is not for any trivial reason that I approach you, Mr. Holmes. When first I suspected something was amiss, I hired a large firm of private detectives to follow those of the bank who might be involved. This they have done for several weeks.

“I know information may be being passed to a foreign power, and yet I can see no way in which this is being carried out. My suspicions were originally aroused when Lord Calverton told me that it would be our bank that would be the middleman in certain negotiations. Only two days later I had a conversation with the ambassador of a certain power who seemed to know without a doubt that our bank would be involved.”

Holmes pressed the tips of his fingers together and nodded. “I see, and of course with foreign negotiations shortly to be begun between the power you mention and our Foreign Office, you would wish to be certain of your security.”

Alexander Holder started up in horror. “You know of this?”

“Calm yourself, sir. One of the principals—on our side of course—has already done me the honor of mentioning some of the aspects of the negotiations while asking my advice.”

The banker sank back into his chair with a sigh of relief. “Ah, you relieve my mind, Mr. Holmes. Since you already know something of the background, I can speak more freely. Yes, that we should confirm certain aspects of our security was the suggestion of my partner, Mr. Radford Stevenson. Knowing that our bank is to be intimately involved in the negotiations, he suggested that we should examine the trustworthiness of our employees, since the three who are senior must of necessity know some small amount of what it is that is discussed and decided. This I agreed to do, and together we concocted a ruse that we believed would serve.”

His brow furrowed in distress. “To be brief, we invented a small but unpleasant scandal involving one of our accounts. As you know, it is rare for a private bank to hold accounts for ordinary people, but in some cases it is done, and we ourselves do have some two dozen accounts of such a type as are normally dealt with by my partner and myself only. In this case, the account—I need hardly say—was fictitious, as was the supposed foreign personage whose account it was. We permitted word of this scandal to be overheard by our senior employees and the results were immediately obvious.”

Here he brought out his wallet and produced a newspaper clipping that he showed to us. It was from a newspaper specializing in prurient and salacious gossip, and from a still more obnoxious column entitled ‘Tidbits from the Tattler,’ and we read—

“It was revealed today that the Count of Esslin was being sued for his seduction of a Miss Jasmine Reddingford of this country. The lady in question claiming that marriage was offered and accepted, and that it was on this foundation the Count was permitted certain personal liberties.

“We have just heard, however, that the Count, (being reluctant to have his affairs exposed to public scrutiny in an English court) has settled privately and instead—for a sum which should keep the young lady in comfort for the rest of her days. How useful it is to be rich.”

Holmes made a moue of disgust. “Really, Mr. Holder.”

“Forgive me, sir. But it was necessary to provide something that engendered a temptation to gossip if any of our senior employees were so inclined. The worst of it is,” here he passed over a report from the detective agency. “Because of the very short space of time it took for this information to reach the newspaper and appear, it is virtually certain that the person who informed them of the scandal is indeed one of our senior employees.”

Holmes was perusing the first reports, and he looked up. “So it would appear. Please continue, Mr. Holder.”

“It was clear to Radford and me that we must give our spy a new scandal, so that this time the agency could follow those involved from the beginning. Accordingly, we waited a week, then provided new information which was again likely to be known only by senior employees.”

With that he proffered a second clipping, which informed its readers that a certain foreign nobleman had suffered huge losses at baccarat tables in London and was privately selling some of his heirlooms to replenish his account with cash. It suggested with a sneer that such was the lot of foreign noblemen who—with very few exceptions—were rogues, fools, or wastrels.

“As you can see by the reports, while only three of our employees could have known this information, my partner and I made certain (by means of a meeting) that none spoke to other employees before they departed work. Once the three left the bank after junior employees had all departed, teams of private detectives followed each of them. I tell you, Mr. Holmes, none of them could have betrayed our confidence—and yet, betrayed we were. This item appeared only twenty-four hours later.

“The agency could not even suggest any possible way in which those followed could have evaded their surveillance and passed information. Nor can they promise that it will not continue to happen, therefore I have come to you.”

“Very wisely, if I may say so,” I congratulated him. “I am certain that my friend will be able to discover your spy and explain the method by which he communicates.”

Holmes nodded kindly to me. “I shall do my best. Now, Holder, I know the agency you hired and they are an honest and thorough firm. What of their reports on the three employees?”

These too were produced and I can list them as follows.

“Mr. Robert Beldon, married, wife Ethel (nee) Masters. Two children, both too young as yet to be in school. One maid, Janet Wadel, currently walking out with the butchers’ boy. Valet, John Stample, a man of fifty-six with an impeccable record and reputation. Beldon is a careful man who lives within his income, treats his servants well, and is generally liked and trusted by those who know him. Beldon began at the bank as a boy of eighteen and has worked his way up to a senior position. His wife can be a little extravagant in her own dress, but he himself is frugal—and of recent weeks has always taken the ’bus to his home once his day’s work is done. His hobbies are cricket and the writing of Rudyard Kipling. His holidays are often taken at home, but when he can, he also enjoys tramping over some of the areas that appear in the works of Kipling.

“Mr. Gerald Ainstruther. A bachelor of thirty-two who lives in a set of rooms. He has lived there for the past five years and his landlady speaks very highly of him as a man of quiet manners and discriminating tastes. Lives within his income, sole hobby being collecting foreign stamps, and pursuant to which he occasionally dines with fellow collectors or visits their homes. No known female associates. Ainstruther joined the bank at the time he moved to London from Guildford five years ago. However, he has excellent references from the Countries and Midland Bank and upon inquiry they assured me that he was always the soul of discretion. Ainstruther takes a hansom home on some nights and the ’bus on others, but on fine evenings he sometimes walks since his house is not at a great distance from his place of employment.

“Mr. Andrew Mannison. Mannison was originally an officer in the paymaster’s office in India and joined the bank twelve and a half years ago. He is a widower of forty-nine with two adult daughters, Ethne, married to Major Alan Homesby, and Jane, married to Mr. Alan Forester. Neither marriage has children as yet, although Mrs. Homesby is expecting a child in the New Year. All live within their incomes and are well regarded. Mr. Mannison has no live-in servant, but a local couple, Mrs. Culbart and her husband, come in daily. Mannison has no known female associates, lives quietly, and regularly arranges for parties from the bank to attend Shakespearean plays at reduced rates for social groups. His hobby is Shakespeare’s plays on which he is regarded as substantially knowledgeable. His only luxury appears to be his preference for taking a hansom home each night from his place of employment.”

I looked at my friend. “Three paragons of virtue, or so it seems, Holmes. What have you to say to that?”

“Merely that even paragons have been known to fall, Watson. Mr. Mannison, for instance, is of an age when some men may fall prey to an attractive woman and commit foolish acts. If, as it appears, Mr. Belden’s marriage is indeed happy, then is he not all the more susceptible to blackmail? And Mr. Ainstruther may have some dubious secret in his past. No, what is apparently obvious at first glance is not always true.”

He turned to the banker, who was watching us anxiously. “Now, Mr. Holder, this is what must be done to start with. Do you have another false scandal you can use to lure our spy into possible indiscretion?”

”Certainly.”

“Then allow this to be known in exactly three days. On the late afternoon of Monday the 12th you shall allow the information to be overheard. Continue as before; be certain the three speak to no one until they have left the building. You will also allow the three men who bring you my card that afternoon to remain within the bank after your employees have departed. I have no objection to your remaining also, but my men must be permitted to search wherever they will. Do you agree?”

“I will permit anything you wish. Only discover who is it who betrays us, Mr. Holmes, and I shall be forever in your debt.”

We waited, Holmes patiently, as was his wont, but I less so since I could not believe that whichever employee was passing information would not be apprehended on this third occasion. Yet so it was. The third ‘tidbit’ duly appeared from the Tattler’s pen and we seemed to be no further along the road to discovery of the spy than we had been. Holmes’ men appeared that evening to report to him, and I listened eagerly.

“We searched the offices, sir. Mr. Holder, he had the three at a meeting late and bid them go straight home after like, so they never come back into their offices. Me an’ Will an’ Jethro made lists of every single thing in the wastepaper baskets as you suggested. There weren’t nothing but just in case we took any bit o’ paper and put them in this envelope for you along with the lists. We followed our men home and I swear, sir, none o’ them talked to anyone nor passed them anything. I were at Mannison’s shoulder the whole way and I’d ’a seen if he did anything. The others did the same for their men, sir.”

Holmes was perusing the lists, and I saw his eyes gleam with sudden interest, nonetheless his voice as he replied was calm. “I trust you all, and I am sure that had anything been passed you would have noticed it. Pray continue to watch your man, each of you, and come at once to tell me should anything out of the ordinary occur. I would also have you talk to the maid, valet, or others about the men who might be in a position to know, and ask them this question.”

With that he recited it and his men and I regarded him doubtfully. It seemed an odd thing to wish to know, however there was no accounting for the actions Holmes would ask for at times.

I waited until the men had gone then I spoke. “Holmes, it is too bad. I know you have seen some clue, will you not share it?”

“Why not, my dear Watson? Here,” and he held out to me the lists made of assorted rubbish collected from the wastepaper baskets of the three under suspicion. I read them and was none the wiser. I could see no clue, nothing save—ah! I lifted a crumpled tailor’s bill from the envelope and exclaimed.

“I have it, Holmes! It must be Belden, despite Jethro’s certainty that he passed nothing. The man is married with two small children and in need of money. Look at what he is being asked to pay for his wife’s clothing, and see here the date, the bill is long overdue. The man is in dire need of money and has chosen this way to obtain it. I am right, am I not?”

“It is true the bill is both large and overdue, that I cannot deny.”

“Ah,” my cry was triumphant. “Then how shall you bring this miscreant to book?”

Holmes’ look was sober. “I fear that may not be quite so easy, I am certain the man is an accomplished spy; this selling of scandal is a sideline.”

I gasped. “Holmes, you mean that Belden is there to learn what decisions are to be made on the foreign negotiations?”

“I fear our spy may have that in mind. But before that I have made arrangements with Holder to release a fourth scandal so we may again follow the three under suspicion.”

“He must be stopped,” I said resolutely. “Tell me what I may do to assist?”

“I do have a task for you, Watson, I plan to walk the bank’s corridors tonight and study the working background of our spy. It is, however, also essential that I stop all possible rat holes. It is possible that the information is being sent by mail. None of the three men have easy access to a telephone, so that if they are communicating what they learn, then it is most likely to be by letter. I have made arrangements with Lestrade that any letters sent by the men or their families shall be intercepted before they arrive at their destinations. Once these letters are collected, I want you to bring them to me that I may examine them.”

“You may repose your trust in me, Holmes.”

His look softened. “I do, my dear Watson. I do.”

And yet I still felt I had failed him when the letters I had collected showed no sign of anything untoward, but the information still appeared, as we had feared it would. However, to my surprise Holmes did not appear downcast.

“What is it? Do you believe you have some further clue to this business?”

“So I believe, Watson. As I have said before, eliminate the impossible and whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.”

“But what is that truth, Holmes? The three we suspect have been watched by men you trust, and before that other reliable men watched them. They have not left the information behind them in the bank. They have not communicated the information by letter or telephone. They have passed nothing on the ’bus or to a hansom-cab driver. They have met with no one. They have not left their homes that night, nor has any member of their family. They lead blameless lives: they, their families, their servants, and their associates. How in heaven’s name, Holmes, can any of these men be passing information? They are ordinary men, and yet they are baffling the finest brain in England.”

“Perhaps because one of them is not an ordinary man, Watson.” He said, leaning back and surveying my bewildered countenance. “Consider, my dear fellow. We have here a private bank that every few years may be intimately involved in negotiations with foreign powers. Why? Because Lord Calverton heads the Foreign Office, and this is the bank he and his family have used and trusted for several generations. But the agents of foreign powers are as aware of that as I am. Would it not be a coup for them to have an agent in place awaiting further negotiations?”

“I can see that it would.” I said slowly. “So you believe that it is this man who is passing gossip to the newspaper? But, surely, that would be folly?”

“I think it more likely to be simple greed. He has the system in place or perhaps he is using another, but with the same idea behind it. Either way he will be making some profit on his additional activities, and it may be that he has need of the money. Perhaps for some reason he dares not tell his true employers.”

I considered this thought, and raised my head. “Could it be that he is in debt, some form of that which—if known to the bank—would have him dismissed from his position, the position in which he was so carefully placed?”

Holmes surveyed me with approval. “Exactly so, Watson. That was one of my thoughts, and I have already set Jack and his friend to making inquiries on the subject, along with a further possibility.”

“What is that, Holmes?”

“That some pastimes do more than pass the time.”

I could half-catch at the meaning of that, but I was uncertain, so—not wishing to seem foolish after my acumen had been once applauded—I said no more. However, I continued to think about the three men under suspicion, and at length I came to the conclusion that I was right and it was Belden who was the spy. Perhaps his wife had been deliberately led into temptation so that he might be the more entangled.

I was less sure of my theory when Holmes next spoke to me. “My dear fellow, can you do me a small favor?”

“Of course.”

“Then will you go to the railway station, engage a hansom to be waiting for you there. I want you to meet a man who is coming from Guildford in Surrey to give me information.”

My thoughts at once turned to the one of our three suspects who had worked in that town previously. Of course, I had been blind while my friend had seen clearly. Gerald Ainstruther lived in a set of rooms with a landlady who would see nothing which might deprive her of one of her best tenants. Nor did she have any personal reason to question his comings and goings. He had lived there for only five years, and where had he been before, but in Surrey working at the main bank there.

My mind leaped to another possibility. Was the man the London bank knew as Gerald Ainstruther even the original worker so well liked in Guildford? Could the real man have been murdered by a foreign power while the counterfeit Ainstruther took his place? Ainstruther collected foreign stamps. He must write to obtain them, perhaps his letters were in code and went to foreign agents?

It must be that the man I was meeting had once been a colleague of the real Ainstruther. He would be brought face-to-face with the suspect and would denounce him. After all, Gerald Ainstruther had no family, no female associates, and that surely was befitting for the life of a spy? I went eagerly to the railway station, met the man as requested, and brought him back with me to the rooms in which my friend awaited us.

To my mild annoyance there was no discussion. It was near the close of business and we left again in a hansom to wait on the street near the bank’s main exit. Promptly and on time all three men exited the building.

Holmes turned to the man with us. “There—is that the man you know?”

“It is indeed, sir.”

“Thank you, you have been of inestimable help. Allow me to defray your expenses in coming all this way at my request.” He passed over a sealed envelope and turned to me. “Come, Watson. We will allow this gentleman to return to his home while I lay my hands on the final pieces in the puzzle. I confess I have been somewhat astray for a while in this case. It was not all of a piece, but two similar deeds overlapping, both committed by the same person, but for different motives and in slightly different ways.”

I was surprised that the man appeared to know Belden, but reflected that perhaps it was under some other name that he had done so. This then would support my theory that the real Belden was not the man we knew by that name and who was employed in the building before us.

“Where are we going now?” I asked.

“Home, Watson. But the morning shall tell a different tale. Holder informed the suspects of two things this afternoon; one was further scandal, a very unpleasant tale about the King of Herzegovina. The other information was of certain recently scheduled dates on which some of the planned negotiations shall be carried out. The foreign power involved would like to know those in advance so as to have more time to prepare their case.

“If you have some time to spare, you shall be in at the kill. I have requested Holder to bring the three suspects together with his partner to a side room at ten o’clock. You and I shall attend with our assistants, Jack, Will, and Jethro. There we shall have the men into the main boardroom in turn and I shall reveal the spy in our midst.”

Holmes’ man, Will, met us as we alighted. Speaking quietly, he gave my friend a clumsily written report. I could make no sense of it but the information ran as follows. ‘Belden has his tea with no milk and one sugar. Ainstruther likes milk and two sugars, while Mannison don’t use milk and likes two sugars too.’

We entered the bank and were escorted quietly along the seemingly endless passage. At once Holmes halted to look at a notice-board which bore a piece of paper asking for all to sign below who wished to attend the performance of As You Like It in Covent Gardens the following Saturday evening, with a second ruled piece beneath for the signatures. Needless to say my heart was racing when at last we were ushered through the waiting room and into the boardroom. It was clear to me, as we passed them, that the three men knew some crisis was upon them, and all looked to be thoroughly nervous as to what might befall them. Belden was called in first and Holmes addressed him quietly.

“Sir, it has come to the bank’s notice that you owe a large debt which is long overdue, suggesting that you are finding some difficulty in paying.” He placed the bill before the clerk. “Can you explain this?”

I saw the man heave a sigh of relief. “I can, sir. My wife is young and can be foolish. She ordered these dresses and could not pay from the money I allow her each month, but she was afraid to tell me of it. At length, finding her repeated requests for payment ignored, my wife’s dressmaker brought the bill to my attention and I have paid it.”

“It was a large sum?”

“That is so, sir. But by making small economies of late I have been able to pay it in several installments. I have scolded my wife and I am convinced she will not be so foolish again.”

My mind went back to the report. It fitted. Belden had recently begun to use the ’bus rather than a hansom even when the weather was very bad. The man was—alas—married to a young and sometimes extravagant wife, but he was an honest man. Then my second suspicion must be the correct one? The spy was Ainstruther, real or false, whichever he might be. No doubt Holmes would have him in last of all. I glanced up as the next man was ushered in, and observed that he must have flung his jacket on in haste since the buttons were unevenly fastened and one side bagged out in consequence.

Holmes leaned forward, his tone confident, the voice of a man who knows without doubt that what he says is true. “Mannison, how could you betray the confidence which this bank has always reposed in you?”

I saw the man’s lips tighten before he replied cautiously. “I, sir?”

“Yes, you have sold information to a newspaper concerning certain clients of the bank. Do not attempt to deny it, I have a confession from your confederate, the bank’s doorman, an ex-army officer with whom you previously served. Furthermore a certain expert identified you and explained what had brought you to him. What prompted you to such folly? You must at least lose your position although the bank is not inclined to press charges on this.”

Mannison seemed to fold in on himself in relief at that last statement.

“I have been a fool, sir. But, as you may have heard, I am accepted in certain circles as something of an authority on Shakespeare. Just on a month ago I was offered two first folios, one of Shakespeare, and the other by a French writer. I examined the works and was convinced both were genuine. I did not have the cash in hand to buy them, nor did I want the second work, however I knew I could dispose of it for far more than I was asked to pay. This would cover my purchase of both, and my retention of the Shakespeare for my own pleasure, so I therefore borrowed the money from a little-used account at this bank and purchased both works.

“What was my horror when the vendor had gone and I took both works to an expert, to be told that both folios were cleverly constructed fakes. I could sell neither to redeem the money I had borrowed, and all too soon I would be found out and disgraced. It was then that I was approached by an old acquaintance who suggested that we could make money by selling information to the reporter who writes the gossip section entitled Tidbits. I was tempted and I fell, sir. And that’s the long and the short of it. How is it that I am found out?”

“Yes,” said Holmes, thoughtfully. “I expected you to ask that question. The matter was quite simple. I heard that a forger had sold two first folios to a collector for a sum that was substantial. I knew you to be a lover and collector of such work. Then I had your wastebasket in the bank searched and a list of everything found there was brought to me.

“One item struck me as interesting. Two halves of a large squeezed lemon. You do not drink your tea with lemon, so for what purpose were you using a quantity of lemon-juice? To me there was one obvious purpose, one known to many schoolboys. You can use the juice as invisible ink.” I heard gasps from the others present and knew this was the first they had heard of the possibility.

“You wrote your information onto a small piece of paper in the lemon juice, let that dry, and once your accomplice had procured your regular cab for you, you pressed the paper into his hand. Anyone seeing this would merely assume that you were tipping him for the service—even supposing they thought of it at all. Once he too departed for the night, he had only to take the paper to the reporter who held it before a flame or fire of some sort. The information would then appear. Have I the truth?”

Mannison stepped backwards by several paces, seeming to feel deeply ashamed. “You have, sir. I am guilty, I will go at once and the bank need never see me again.”

“Not quite yet, Mr. Mannison, there is one more matter. Betraying the owners of this bank who trusted you is something, which could perhaps, be kept silent. Betraying your country for money is not a matter for silence. Yes, I know about that also.” in response to the desperate look flung at him.

“In case you think that I am bluffing, I have only to quote an item. ‘Staff who would care to attend the performance of Shakespeare’s As You Like It, shall write their names on this notice.’”

Mannison’s face twisted in horror. “You know!” He dragged a small pistol from his pocket and held it to his temple, his voice rising to a wail. “It was not for money, I was blackmailed, the devils found out my secret. The doing was mine, but the shame would descend upon those who are blameless.”

“Come, man, there are other ways to deal with this.”

“No, no, I cannot.…” Then came the shot, I had a glimpse of the thing with the ruined head dropping limply to the ground before my friend strode forward, tore down a curtain, and flung it over the body. Lestrade almost fell through the door, his gaze going at once to the motionless covered figure.

“Ah, took the quick way out, did he? Well, enough. It would not have pleased my superiors had we to prosecute the fool openly.”

“Exactly.” Holmes replied coolly, “Which is why when I saw he was armed, I made no attempt to take the pistol from him. I thought he would prefer to die rather than disgrace his daughters, and merely holding us up so that he might flee would have done him no good. I believed he had the sense to see that.

“However, you will have better luck with the man who cleans the bank after everyone else has left each night. He is the real villain. It is he who takes down the notices that Mannison pins up on the bank’s notice-board, replaces them with a spare copy of the first portion of the information, and takes the original notice back to his master where heat is applied as I described to Mannison, and a certain power is enlightened as to our country’s intentions.”

Lestrade smiled grimly. “Wonderful, Mr. Holmes. He arrived only a short time ago and I have the bank sealed off. We have him in the bag and he may even talk.”

Alexander Holder was still looking sadly at the body of his once trusted employee. “What secret can have impelled him to do this?”

Holmes waved his assistants to leave so that only I, the owners of the bank and Lestrade remained to listen. “That secret I suspected as soon as I knew the traitor,” he said. “It took no more than a few questions in the right place. Mannison fell in love while still employed by the army in India. He married a respectable girl of the middle-classes—who was however, by blood, one-quarter of the country. She bore him two daughters before she died and he loved them both passionately.

“He returned to England and no one here knew that to him, the blood of his children carried a taint which would shame them and their own families unbearably if it were generally known. Although he had loved his wife deeply, he was not perhaps entirely rational on the subject, but it is true some would look askance at his daughters, so I hope that it can be kept secret still?” He looked at Lestrade, who nodded.

Alexander Holder stood. “He was a good employee until he was tempted and threatened beyond his bearing,” he said quietly. “And it seems he was a loving husband and father. Let that be his epitaph.”