I coughed over a mouthful of stout, this being my first intimation that Slim Gilligan had been a concealed ace up Holmes's sleeve. My friend's delivery became more measured, as though his words were unpalatable.
"I have been committed to this affair from the start since I made a pledge to a now-departed friend. With the taking of Watson, another motive has insinuated itself as regards my involvement. Chu San Fu cannot be allowed to get away with such actions, as fruitless as they will prove. I intend to break him by one means or another and fulfill my promise to Nils Lindquist as well. However, to date there has been an expenditure of time and effort on the part of the authorities as well as a certain organization with which Mr. Orloff is associated. I cannot continue to impose on the facilities of others relative to what has become a personal vendetta."
Holmes might have elaborated on this, but he did not get the chance. MacDonald cut in. "I'll speak for the Yard, Mr. Holmes, to set the matter straight. I anticipated a bit of resistance from the Commissioner about this matter. There's not much on the books and it has been hangin' fire for some time even though we've been after Chu San Fu for years. However, there's a new scent in the air. Somehow, knowledge of the kidnaping of Doctor Watson's got round. How I dinna ken for I've not bruited it about. But there's a lot of angry men at New Scotland Yard and the Commissioner's one of 'em. Count us in, Mr. Holmes—all the way."
"Allow me to endorse those words," said Wakefield Orloff. "In addition, certain august personages are much concerned with the pending marriage of the Chinese princess and Maurice Rothfils. We cannot yet prove that she is the daughter of Chu San Fu even though our men in Hong Kong and Singapore are convinced. If they are right, this marriage will extend the cloak of respectability to areas not fancied by my superiors. This matter warrants a carte blanche on whatever assistance my organization can supply." His next words shook me. "Besides, I also have a personal axe to grind."
He had to be referring to me and I could not believe my ears. Save for infrequent flashes of warmth in his manner toward Sherlock Holmes, the security agent had always been as devoid of sentiment or emotion as a king cobra. I realized that were I down to my last farthing, I could still consider myself a man of means. Wealth cannot be counted in worldly goods alone. In addition, I was provided with the intense pleasure of seeing the super sleuth of Baker Street actually appear embarrassed. During our long association I could count the number of times that had happened on one hand and have two fingers left over. All in all, it had been quite a day.
Perhaps Holmes's eyes were slightly misty, I cannot be sure. In any case, he cleared his throat, took a sip of his burgundy, and then a lifetime of training took over. The cold, logical analyst was present again as his sword of vengeance was unsheathed.
"As Watson knows, I have been searching the field of famous diamonds and have narrowed down my search. Is Doctor Max Bauer still in England?" Holmes addressed this question to Wakefield Orloff.
"He has returned to Germany but the royal jeweler, Edwin Streeter, is back in London."
"I had the pleasure of reading parts of his well-known book. An appointment with the gentleman would be of assistance."
Orloff indicated with a nod that the matter would be arranged.
"I need the name of the diamond, the identity of the gem that was concealed in the Golden Bird. That is the password to open closed gates. Basil Selkirk has the stone, I'm sure of it. But the old rogue is a bit of a romanticist and I might get it from him. I also need the statue, but Chu San Fu is going to provide that. I intend to write him a letter saying that if he wishes the gem, he will have to contact me to arrange for a fee to recover it. I will also demand a return of the Bird."
There was a rare twinkle in the deep-set eyes of Inspector MacDonald. "You intend to take on the Chink as a client?"
"I intend to recover the diamond," said Holmes, and let it drop at that. He continued looking at MacDonald. "I'll want to be sure that my letter reaches Chu San Fu, and promptly, before he puts further plans into action."
Slim Gilligan broke a long silence. "I'll take the billet doux, Guv. Sydney Sid runs the biggest gin hall and slap-bang shop in Limehouse. 'E'll see that Chu gets yer message."
Holmes seemed satisfied. "Three men know the story of the Golden Bird. Basil Selkirk, Chu San Fu, and my client, D'Anglas. If fortune smiles, I shall be able to deal with all three of them."
During the war council and, indeed, thereafter, I must confess that I felt something of the center of attraction. When one is associated with a great mind like Holmes, one becomes acutely conscious of limitations. I knew full well that mine was, and always had been, the role of associate, biographer, friend. In the amazing number of cases dealt with by Sherlock Holmes, I rarely played a major role. My friend had often stated that a thought or comment of mine had sparked his brilliant intellect to follow the correct road, but that generous admission on his part was certainly open to question.
On this particular day, and following ones, I was treated to the revelation that when one associates with greatness there are attendant rewards. Baker Street residents, if they were alert enough to take note, must have felt that the area anticipated a major outbreak of crime. Constables were everywhere. Our placid backwater in the great metropolis was blanketed with representatives of the law. Obviously, Alec MacDonald was taking no chances that I might again be spirited away by minions of the lawless, or Holmes either. In times past, the world's only consulting detective had chafed at the presence of sinews of the law, but he took these protective measures in good grace. My friend seemed to consider Chu San Fu and his extensive criminal organization as a snake whose fangs had been removed. Why he adopted this casual atitude I could not fathom.
It was the following morning that we were honored by a visit of the royal jeweler, Edwin Streeter. He was a tidy man of medium size with keen eyes and a businesslike manner. Obviously, he had been informed by Wakefield Orloff that the great detective required his knowledge of famous gems to solve a case of importance. He did not impress me as a waster of time.
"Tell me, Mr. Holmes, in what area does your interest lie?" he asked, immediately, after introductions. "Mr. Orloff indicated that it is diamonds that have caught your fancy."
"A large field, as Doctor Bauer informed me. However ..."
Our visitor bristled. "If you have consulted with Bauer, you have little need of me, sir. He is one of the foremost authorities in the world."
"As you are. I have read your Precious Stones and Gems with great interest. I consider any book that can intrigue and inform one who is not versed in the field has the quality of lasting greatness."
Streeter's brusque manner vanished. "You are most kind, Mr. Holmes. Though I would think that in your profession a knowledge of gems would be automatic."
"A surface knowledge," agreed Holmes. "I find the present problem far beyond my resources and am most grateful that the government has prevailed upon you to come to my assistance."
It crossed my mind that Holmes had put the gentleman in a bit of a bind. By linking Her Majesty's government and Streeter's expertise, and the need of same for an undisclosed reason, he had put the royal jeweler on the spot as far as cooperation was concerned. However, this was probably unnecessary. Speak to the expert of his field and he instantly opens his book of knowledge, if only to prove why he is an expert.
"I am much interested in a famous gem, one of undisputed quality, which has disappeared. Does this suggest something to you?"