A brief negative was the inspector's response and Slim Gilligan mimicked him when Holmes's eyes shifted in his direction.
The sleuth thought for a moment. "There may be a break in this case shortly, but because of the powerful and potentially dangerous elements involved, I doubt if a disclosure of value is due to fall into our laps. Therefore, it behooves us to concentrate for the time on Barker. If he learned something, we can, as well."
It is sticking in his craw a bit, I thought. A fellow investigator, either by diligence or chance, has come across information that has so far eluded Sherlock Holmes. One of his greatest assets has always been his complete confidence in his ability, which precludes any possibility of negative thinking. But he's reached an impasse and he won't rest until he's thought his way round it.
My musings were interrupted by MacDonald, who had often been the audience to one of Holmes' patented tour de force solutions and must have savored a denouement of his own.
"Relative to Barker," said the Aberdeenian, softly, "I have a wee bit o' information. Bystanders identified the vehicle which ran him down as a hansom. So the Yard in its slow-movin' manner investigated all the public conveyances it could." There was a touch of triumphant malice in his words that had to be directed toward Holmes. "We found one not far from the furniture warehouse that housed the Amateur Mendicant Society."
Holmes was watching him intently as he paused. I recalled the Society MacDonald mentioned. It was a case my friend solved in '87.
"The front right wheel had a stain on it and our laboratory men were able to establish it as blood. They used the very reagent you discovered Mr. Holmes to establish that fact. In addition, they discovered that the blood was the same type as Barker's. The hansom had been stolen and then abandoned."
"Capital work, Mr. Mac!" said Holmes, with enthusiasm. "While we have assumed that Barker met his death by foul play, it is comforting to have a deduction verified. This evidence might not be accepted as conclusive in a court of law, but I believe we can take it as fact. Coincidence can be stretched but so far. All right then, if we have no more revelations to contribute let us center our energies on Barker and whatever he discovered. I would like to know what he was doing at the Nonpareil Club. That may have a bearing on what he found."
"Let me inquire into that," volunteered MacDonald. "In the process of investigating his death it would be reasonable to inquire into his employment. In fact, it would be strange if I did not."
Holmes nodded. "Also the fact that Barker's death has not been dismissed as accidental might make Dowson somewhat nervous, not a bad thing at all. Let me inquire into his personal life and quarters. I have some ideas regarding that, Slim, which it might be better for Mr. Mac not to be aware of. Officially, that is."
The inspector knew Holmes's methods, having been associated with him on a number of cases. His craggy face loosened to permit a wise smile. "Barker's landlady said that his lawyer had paid for the rental of his lodgings till the end of the month," he mentioned. "Strange that we have found no trace of said gentleman," he added in such a manner that I was sure he knew of Holmes's involvement.
"But, as Gilligan said, some things are best not known," concluded MacDonald.
He seemed on the verge of rising when I became conscious of the sound of music on the street below. I was looking at Holmes at this very moment and saw his alert eyes flick toward the casement window. Was I right in thinking that his face suddenly hardened?
"Strange. An organ grinder on Baker Street at this hour," I commented. Instinctively, I rose from my chair by the fire, moving toward the window.
"Passing by, no doubt," said Holmes, quickly, but my curiosity was aroused and I crossed to the aperture.
From long habit, I peered out from the side of the curtains rather than opening them. Behind me, Mac-Donald had also risen, preparatory to leaving. Holmes's voice had a touch of urgency to it.
"Inspector, simply as matter of security, why don't you depart via our back yard," he suggested.
I looked back from the window in surprise. This was an unusual thought on Holmes's part and I could see that it puzzled MacDonald as well. However, he did not choose to comment on it.
"Vera well," said he, in his low-timbered voice as my attention returned to the street outside.
On the pavement below there was a raggedy man winding the crank of an ancient street organ. He was gazing upward at illuminated windows in a hopeful manner and, indeed, one did open and there was a flash of metal in the light of the gas jet of the street lamp and a clink as it struck the cobblestones. Like a flash, a small monkey darted from atop the musical instrument to retrieve the coin, causing me to smile, but only for a moment, for in the wavering jet of the lamp I noted another presence in a doorway opposite Mrs. Hudson's house. For but an instant I glimpsed an Oriental face peering at the organ grinder's monkey and then it disappeared into the darkness.
"Good Lord!" I exclaimed, turning back to the others. "There's a Chinaman outside and he's watching this house, I'm sure."
As both Gilligan and the inspector instinctively stepped toward the window, they were halted by a surprising statement from Sherlock Holmes.
"I know."
Gilligan, as always, exhibited no reaction but both MacDonald's and my eyebrows escalated.
"The organ grinder is an . . . associate. The possibility of the hand of Chu San Fu reaching as far as Baker Street had occurred to me."
"And the music was the signal," said MacDonald. "Then the Oriental must have arrived but recently. I see now the reason for my leaving by the back."
I had vacated my position at the window and Gilligan had replaced me there. One glance at the street was enough for the cracksman.
"Slippery Styles," he exclaimed, with a grin. "Iffen the watcher leaves, 'e won't be alone. Though 'e'll never know it," Gilligan added, with relish.
"This puts a different complexion on things," stated MacDonald, his face suddenly creased with worry.
"Come now," replied Holmes, "after Styles leaves and he will have to shortly, to prevent being conspicuous, Wiggins and a couple of his street urchin friends will be in the vicinity."
"Ta ... a smart move, Guv," said Gilligan. "Them Baker Street irreg'lars can wander at will without attractin' notice."
"In a matter such as this, considering the forces that form the opposition, I need all the help I can get," said Holmes, and this was a remarkable admission to come from him.
MacDonald and I exchanged a significant glance. Holmes was notorious for his lack of concern about his personal safety, a fact that had prompted many an uncomfortable thought for both of us. I was reassured by the conviction that some of London's finest might soon find themselves in the area as well.
MacDonald bid us goodnight and made his way down the stairs and out the rear past the plane tree in our small yard and through the inconspicuous door that served as a seldom-used back exit. From there, he had easy access via the Mews to King Street and a route of departure safe from the eyes of the watcher without.