Holmes stopped filling his pipe. "You are a treasure trove, Mr. Mac. This puts a new light on things and explains why the tiger is trying to sheath his claws." Noting my puzzled look, Holmes added to his statement. "The more dastardly the brigand, the more precious the cloak of respectability. You may recall, Watson, that Henry Morgan, who sacked Panama and was the terror of the Caribbean, later became the Governor of Jamaica."
"Not a very respected one," I said, somewhat stiffly.
"Touché!" responded my friend.
MacDonald, sensing that the well of information had dried up on both sides, rose to his feet.
"I'll not be takin' up any more of your time, Mr. Holmes." As I handed him his coat, he regarded the great sleuth shrewdly. "I'll be hearin' from you, sir?"
"I hope very soon," responded Holmes.
Then the official and unofficial detective did a strange thing. They shook hands—a social formality I had never seen them indulge in before. But then, a bargain had been made.
The next three days provided no further information regarding this strange case that Holmes and I had become involved in. I saw little of my friend and surmised that he was tapping his sources of information and frequenting strange places in any one of the variety of disguises that he affected with such expertise.
The journals had a short-lived romance with the battle in Soho. Then the matter disappeared from print. The management of the Nonpareil Club claimed they were victims of an attempted robbery. Since the authorities had been unable to locate gambling devices or prove that the club was a haven for it, Dowson and his crew were officially blameless. The two wounded Chinese claimed, through an interpreter, that they were making a delivery to the club and just got caught in the middle of hostilities. A reputable Oriental merchant appeared to identify them as employees and produce a delivery order for two Chinese rugs. The Orientals were released for lack of evidence and the entire affair collapsed in the hands of the police. Everyone involved knew the gunfight was no small thing, but no one could prove it. It was as though nothing had happened.
The morning of the fourth day brought a sparkle to Holmes's eyes. He had been chafing under the strain of inaction or, at least, action that was non-productive. As usual, this had not improved his sometimes brusque and preoccupied manner. But it was the old Holmes that greeted me at the breakfast table with a smile of relief.
"I do hope you are free to take a trip, my good Watson."
"I can be."
"Then we are off to Berlin."
He handed me a cablegram, which I eagerly scanned.
MY DEAR MR. HOLMES
LETTER FROM L1NDQUIST INFORMS ME OF ARRANGEMENT HE MADE WITH YOU. AGREEABLE ON THIS END. CAN YOU COME TO BERLIN AS THERE HAS BEEN RECENT DEVELOPMENT HERE RELATIVE TO THE BIRD. I WILL ASSUME RESPONSIBILITY FOR EXPENSES INCURRED BY YOU AND YOUR COLLEAGUE, OF COURSE. WILL MAKE MYSELF AVAILABLE AT ANY TIME.
VASIL D'ANGLAS.
I experienced a nervous moment. From time to time, I have been accused of being deficient in imagination and, compared to Holmes, it is possible that I am. What imagination I did have was now working overtime.
"How embarrassing," I said, "if this complex matter is resolved by the owner of the Golden Bird."
Holmes chimed in with my thoughts. "Lindquist gone, Barker as well, and we have gotten ourselves deeply involved to no avail." He indulged in a chuckle.
"It would be bitter tea indeed, but a reminder, ol' chap, that no one is indispensable."
Holmes was a fast packer, rapid departures being no stranger to him, and my experience with the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers stood me in good stead in this department. It was only a short time later, having notified Mrs. Hudson that we would be off the premises for a few days, that we caught the boat train and were on our way to the Continent. Doctor Vernier had readily agreed to assume my duties until we returned. It was a situation he was very familiar with and I do believe that he considered my patients as partially his. In a year's time he certainly saw as much, or more, of them as I did.
The channel passage was stormy and rail connections were delayed. As a consequence, we arrived in Berlin in the late hours but had no difficulty securing a suite at the Bristol Kempinsky Hotel, where Holmes stayed when in Berlin. The night manager, Klaus, always grew loquacious at the sight of my friend.
"Ah, Herr Holmes, you have returned to make dose clever deductions of yours, nicht war?"
Invariably, this was Klaus's greeting and some time was spent reassuring the excitable Bavarian that the fate of Europe did not hang in the balance. Finally, we were comfortably ensconced in most satisfactory quarters and our beds were a welcome sight to me.
The following morning, I awoke to find Holmes gone. Not a new experience, of course, but at least I could assume that he had secured some sleep. Without his endless files, chemical apparatus or extensive library, he had no toys to while away the night hours. My friend did have a built-in alarm in his splendid brain and on more than one occasion I had known him to fall into a deep sleep and will himself to awaken at a certain hour. I know of no scientific proof that this is possible but I also knew that he could do it.
It was mid-morning, after I had enjoyed a large breakfast, when Holmes returned.
"My dear Watson, I trust you have recovered from our travels."
"Indeed, only to find myself abandoned."
"Good chap, you were sleeping so soundly that I had not the heart to awaken you. In any case, some dry research was called for, so I saved you the searching of the Meldwesen files."
I recalled that most effective tool of the Berlin police force, which Holmes had such a hearty respect for. At the police headquarters in Alexanderplatz were the one hundred and eighty rooms that housed the meticulous card catalogue on criminals and crimes.
"Who were you checking on?"
"D'Anglas, naturally. We know nothing of the man save what Lindquist told us. Possibly, our employer has a dark past indeed. If he does, it is not known to the Berlin police. By the way, Inspector Schmidt sent you his cordial good wishes."
I recalled the Inspector well. A short man with a scar on his right cheek and uncomfortably bright blue eyes. Chap had had the effrontery to laugh at a deduction of mine in connection with the "Midas Emerald" affair but his tune had changed when Holmes upheld the rationale of my thinking. I muttered something and then, with a glance at my watch, suggested that we'd best leave for our appointment with D'Anglas.
6
Our Singular Client
51
In a carriage directed to the West End address of our client, I recalled again how much Berlin's tree-lined boulevards dotted with striking street cafes and coffee houses reminded me of both London and Paris. The craftsman talents of the Germans kept their metropolis ultramodern, but it was delightfully punctuated with ancient, grandiose, and historical buildings with a plentitude of parks and gardens to say nothing of sophisticated nightclubs and gourmet restaurants.
Driving along the Unter den Liden, the capital did seem on this shiny day to have put its best foot forward and adopted its most pleasing face. But there was work to be done and this fact was brought to my attention forcibly when Holmes, in excellent German, directed our carriage to come to a halt at a convenient open space by the curb of the busy avenue not far from the Emperor's palace.
"Let us remain calm, ol' fellow," said the detective as I registered surprise and a question formed on my lips. "We shall discuss, apparently, our route: a soupçon of make-believe that will allow me to solidify suspicions." As he spoke, Holmes extracted the golden cigarette case with the great amethyst, which had been given to him by the king of Bohemia. But the king had had no knowledge of the mirror surface inside the case, which had served the detective well on a number of occasions.