"We were able to secure the best man on metals available. His tests were time-consuming, but necessarily so. As to his findings, they will intrigue you. The Golden Bird is not in its original state."
"Ah," said Holmes, with gratification. He threw me a sharp glance. "No matter what happens now, Watson, we were right." His hawklike visage returned eagerly to Orloff.
"Our man," continued the security agent, "established that a portion of the base of the statue is of a gold of a different quality and age than that of the rest of the statue."
"Conclusion?" There was a tight smile on Holmes's lips.
"A large part of the base had been hollowed out as a depository for something. No indication as to what the object was but our man is certain that it was removed recently. The filler gold used to solidify the statue's base was poured not long ago."
"Selkirk," stated Holmes with conviction.
"Why him?" Orloff and I asked together.
"It all fits. Finally, we are dredging some sense from this morass. It is the diamond theory, of course. I'm obsessed with it but there does not seem to be any other logical explanation. Here are the facts." Holmes centered on Orloff for a moment. "In the Chinese calendar, this is the year of the diamond. Now, Chu San Fu's daughter is to be wed to Maurice Rothfils of the famous banking family. In the normal order of things, she will be presented at court."
I realized my head was nodding as I recalled the meeting with MacDonald some time back and his mention of this coming social event.
Holmes continued, savoring the words. I could see that his mind, at last, had a clue as to how to fit the pieces together. "The Chinese are renowned for their pride."
"They are not alone in that," I blurted, without thinking.
"But they make a fetish of it ... a religion. Face is everything. What would a modern-day bandit like Chu San Fu desire above all things?" Holmes chose to answer his own question. "His daughter, presented to Her Majesty, wearing a gem that need not take second place to the crown jewels of England. That is why he's risked his men recklessly in an attempt to secure the Golden Bird. Somehow he knew that there was a famous diamond inside it."
"But why a diamond?" questioned Orloff. "I will agree that whatever was concealed within the statue figures to be a gem. Size alone narrows the choice to that. But why not a ruby? An emerald?"
"Because there are so few famous rubies or emeralds or pearls for that matter. Were this long-concealed treasure one of those stones we could probably name it now. But there are many famous diamonds and we seek a particular one. The daughter of Chu San Fu must be able to wear it openly. Therefore, it cannot be a stolen one. The solution to this entire matter is but a hair's breadth away. Somewhere there is recorded history of a unique diamond that will fit our requirements. Now I must find out its name."
"Would you wish to speak to Doctor Bauer again?" asked Orloff.
"Let me do some preliminary research first. As the eminent expert remarked in this very room: 'Diamonds are a big field.' I must narrow down the possibilities or I will but waste his time."
Orloff was not satisfied. "But what about Chu San Fu?"
"The Oriental has ceased to be a problem. Now we know what he is after or soon will. Basil Selkirk is the stumbling block."
Events proved Holmes wrong on both counts.
18
The Taking and the Rescue
191
The following morning, I had some medical calls to make. Again, Holmes had risen in advance of me or possibly he had never gone to bed. His manner never indicated whether he had slept or not. But somebody, and I suspected Billy, had been busy. Holmes was seated in his chair adjacent to the fireplace deep in a book and the desk had a number of unfamiliar volumes scattered on it, several open.
"What have we here?" I said, indicating the books.
"Research, Watson." Holmes's irritated and frustrated manner had disappeared. He was hot on the scent again and the fact delighted him. "Works by such experts on diamonds as Jean Baptiste Tavernier and our own Edwin Streeter. Benvenuto Cellini wrote some interesting comments on diamonds. Some scholarly work on social life by Capefigue and Brantome are also revealing."
"Good heavens!" I said with a rueful smile. "We are most often knee-deep in your criminal files and now we are inundated by books on diamonds."
"A momentary inconvenience, Watson."
"Have you discovered anything?"
"As yet, no. But I will. Once one knows what one looks for, the job becomes easier. Of course, we do have a last resort." I gazed at Holmes blankly, so he continued. "A cablegram from Berlin informs me that our client, Vasil D'Anglas, will be in London in two days. Surely you realize, ol' fellow, that he knows the secret that was concealed in the Golden Bird."
"Why not just ask him, Holmes?"
"Will he give a truthful answer?" The sleuth laid his book aside. "Besides, he is a client. We must inform him, not the reverse."
Before I could think of a suitable retort to this, Holmes shifted subjects again.
"You know, this whole matter does present a most inventive idea. A diamond of great value is concealed. Not in some object which might be mislaid or lost. No indeed, but in an object of considerable worth itself. The greater treasure is secreted within the lesser. I cannot recall of a similar situation. Fascinating!"
Following my breakfast, I left Holmes pouring over aged books and descended to Baker Street to hail a hansom. There was one conveniently available and I stepped within it and was about to give the driver a Mayfair address. That is the last thing I remembered for a considerable period of time. . . .
When I awoke, I was lying on a pallet and someone was shaking my shoulders, forcing me back to consciousness. When my eyes became accustomed to the dim light, I was surprised at the gentleness of the hands that drew me erect and to my feet and half-supported me as a wave of nausea caused me to sag. The man was mountainous, with arms like the hawsers on a sea-going liner. His head was shaven and looked lost on a bull neck that tapered into the shoulders of a gorilla. His hamlike hands steadied me and he stood patiently till my brain stopped spinning. After a moment, he said, in a soft voice: "You come."
I had little choice in the matter.
There was the smell of earth and a musty odor that suggested the presence of the river, though the air was good and not damp. I was guided out of the small cubicle where I had evidently slept off some kind of narcotic that had rendered me instantly unconscious and helpless. There was a smarting in my eyes, but the nausea disappeared. I could not fathom what kind of drug had been used upon me.
We were in a narrow corridor with a dirt floor that slanted downward. There were doors on both sides at regular intervals marked with Chinese characters in a garish red paint. We came to a corner and a massive hand on my shoulder guided me to the left. I noted that I could have turned to the right as well. Wherever I was, and I suspected Limehouse, it was a labyrinth for the passageway split again before we came to a flight of rickety stairs. At the top, we passed through a curtain and into a sizeable room fitted with wooden benches and lit with gas jets. My guide extinguished the candle he had been carrying and unlocked a door on the far side of the room, gesturing for me to pass through it. The smell of incense assaulted my nostrils and I almost gagged, but the moment passed.
I was in a small room, its walls covered by tapestries. There were numerous candles and I noted the illuminating flame of each was motionless, like those in a church. It had a hypnotic effect and I jerked my head to dispell the sleepy passivity induced. My guide crossed the room and drew aside a tapestry exposing a heavily inlaid wood paneling. He scratched against it and the door behind us swung shut. I could hear its lock click. The huge Chinaman slid the wood panel to one side and indicated that I was to enter, so I did.