Offering me a cigarette, he held the case in such a manner that he secured a good view of the area behind us. I made as though to refuse his offering and then, with gestures, apparently changed my mind. My mummery was designed to give Holmes additional time to check our back trail, of course. Something that Holmes saw must have been humorous since be was chuckling.
"It is a covered carriage, Watson, and the driver is somewhat embarrassed since, halted in the street, he is blocking traffic. However, I catch fleeting glimpses of two Oriental gentlemen within who are obviously keeping track of us and have been doing so since we left the hotel. They are ordering the driver to remain where he is until we show a disposition to move again."
Holmes consulted his watch and then regarded me with that mischievous expression which overran his features much more often than most people realized. "We have a bit of time to spare, ol' fellow. How about some sport? There's a policeman approaching and this is too rich a situation to miss."
Stealing a glance over my left shoulder, I saw the scene just as Holmes had described it. A member of the Berlin police force was addressing the driver of a large carriage to our rear. A Chinese face appeared reluctantly from the ulterior of the carriage to remonstrate with the officer who in turn looked quizzically at the driver. My knowledge of German was extremely sketchy while my understanding of Chinese was nonexistent. Yet, the exchange of words, even in unknown tongues, was crystal clear. The passenger of the covered carriage was hoping to confuse the officer with a flow of Chinese and the upholder of the law was regarding the driver as though he could act as translator. However, that worthy, who must have wished he had never risen from bed on this day, disclaimed any connection with the matter via an expressive shrug of his shoulders. The policeman had an equally expressive gesture to climax the situation and he pointed down the avenue with finality.
Gigging his horse into motion, the driver maneuvered the closed carriage past us despite verbal protests from within. Now Holmes rapped an order to our man and we swung away from the curb and proceeded sedately in the wake of the covered carriage. I joined Holmes in a hearty laugh. Suddenly, the pursued became the pursuer and our merriment increased as two heads appeared in the aperture in the rear of the carriage and regarded us balefully. The conveyance increased speed and, at a word from Holmes, so did ours and both vehicles were soon progressing at a good rate.
Holmes finally tired of the game and as we came to one of those delightful squares that dot the West End, he issued another order to our man who, suddenly took a turn to the left preserving his horse's fast trot. The other carriage was already committed to its course and we lost it with no difficulty.
Shortly thereafter, we alighted on a street corner and Holmes presented our driver with his fare and, judging from the man's expression, a most generous addition. No doubt the driver wished that he could pick up a couple of crazy Englishmen every day.
I was not surprised when we completed our trip on foot, a matter of several blocks. My friend seldom went directly to an address, feeling that information of any kind was a commodity to be secured, not given away. As we made our way down a tree-lined street, Holmes voiced the thoughts coursing through his agile mind.
"Orientals are not commonplace here in Berlin, which makes things simpler for us if we are being followed."
"Obviously you spotted the two quite readily."
"As we left the Bristol Kempinsky. I will confess their presence was a surprise, Watson. It. would seem reasonable to assume that they followed us from London. The puzzling question is where did they originally pick us up!"
I was baffled, nothing new to Holmes, and he continued. "Considering recent events, had the two Chinese been watching Baker Street I would have certainly become conscious of their presence."
"I don't see what you are getting at."
"Simply that it is almost as if they knew we were coming to Berlin. I'm most curious as to how they, or more realistically the man giving them their orders, were privy to that information."
Holmes's musings came to an end as we were at the door of a fairly sizeable residence. We were in a good neighborhood, but this domicile in comparison to its neighbors warranted the rating of modest, a fact which Holmes seemed to find strange as he activated the ornate knocker on a stout oaken door. -
"Watson, I expect a little more than this. Collecting objects of art is an occupation reserved for affluent members of society. Possibly, the gentleman is a dealer though I think we should have been given a business address were that the case."
A fairly young man with burly shoulders and a swarthy face, who was dressed in livery, answered the knock and Holmes presented his card. We were ushered into a small main hall area. The beamed ceiling was two stories high, the walls were paneled in dark wood, and candlelight was necessary since the windows of the residence were small—not unlike those of a monastery or, indeed, a Rhine castle.
Having secured our coats and hats, the butler absented himself, mounting curved stairs that led from the hall to the second story area. He reappeared shortly thereafter to usher us up the same stairs. It occurred to me that the man might not speak English since he had not uttered a word since our arrival. His features were broad and, in conjunction with his swarthy visage, gave me the feeling that he was Turkish or Croatian.
A door on the landing led to a sizeable room in which a large fire was burning brightly. Though the day was sunny, the air was cold and I welcomed the heat provided by the burning logs.
A figure arose slowly from a tapestried chair by the fire as the silent retainer closed the door behind us. The man was at least six feet tall with craggy, overhanging features. Dark eyes were sunk deep in a face that seemed oversized and out of proportion. His nose was thick and his lips were broad and pendulous.
"Ah, Mr. Holmes," he said, in a very low but pleasant voice. "When Achmet brought your card it was a surprise indeed, though a welcome one. This, of course, is Doctor Watson," he added, as his dull eyes swiveled toward me. "Do be seated, gentlemen, and tell me what brings you to Berlin."
As he waved us toward available chairs, I noted that his hands were very large and knobby and his feet were oversized as well. He was terribly stooped and presented a brooding, almost ominous picture, which was belied by his cordial manner.
While his question as to our presence must have puzzled Holmes, as it did me, the sleuth gave no evidence of it. He was intent on sizing up the man and his surroundings and I knew that every wrinkle in that seamed face was being printed on Holmes's photographic mind. He certainly knew, as did I, that D'Anglas suffered from a serious ailment. The man's unusual appearance was not natural, nor was the effort that every movement seemed to cost him. He did not give one the impression of weakness but rather seemed like a wounded elephant. Suddenly, I thought I knew the source of his suffering.
Comfortably seated, Holmes approached the question in both our minds in a circuitous fashion. "As you were informed in a letter from Nils Lindquist, I have . . ." —Holmes corrected himself with a gesture to include me—"we have taken over the search for the Golden Bird."
D'Anglas was nodding slowly. "The gentleman explained the situation to me in detail as well as his ill health. I was most unhappy to hear of his death." He paused for a lengthy moment as though in deference to the departed and then continued in a brisker tone. "However, I would be hypocritical if I did not admit to being delighted that you, Mr. Holmes, and your associate have accepted the case. With all deference to Mr. Lindquist, had I felt that I could afford your not inconsiderable fee, I would have approached you originally."