"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 this 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-4:30. 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, cleanshaven face,
and, above all, that pleasant, mellow voice. Frankness shone from
his gray 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 Splugen 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 I dare say we may find some means of opening the 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 breeding 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.
REST OF THE BOOK AVAILABLE IN FULL VERSION.
