He passed the sleuth a business card, which Holmes dropped on the desk without looking at it. Chang bowed in my direction. He was quite short and somewhat overweight, which may have contributed to the perpetual sheen on his face. His mouth was drawn in a constant smile and I wondered, for no particular reason, if it was present when he slept.
"I am here, Mr. Holmes, representing a client."
"We can," said Holmes severely, "dispense with evasions. You have been instructed by Chu San Fu to contact me relative to a certain piece of property, which he is interested in."
The Oriental's hands were spread, palms up, as though to indicate that he carried no weapons. "I do not know the object involved but I am empowered to negotiate a fee for its recovery. My client is a most generous man and will pay one thousand pounds for its return."
Holmes sighed as though his patience was being sorely tried. "You client's generosity is imaginary. Ten percent is a standard fee for lesser talents than mine. The price is fifteen thousand pounds based on the last valuation of the object. The thousand pounds you mention is to be paid in advance to cover possible expenses."
Chang looked shocked. "My client did not anticipate . . ."
He was allowed to go no further. "I do not haggle in matters of this kind." Holmes's right hand indicated the door. "Begone!"
"But, Mr. Holmes."
"Out!"
The sheen on Chang's face was more evident. He fumbled in his coat pocket, extracting a bulky envelope, "I will leave this thousand pounds as a retainer, Mr. Holmes. If my client agrees to your terms, he will notify you."
Placing the envelope on the desk, Chang backed toward the door with short, rapid bows to Holmes and myself.
"I bid you good day, gentlemen."
"One moment," commanded Holmes, and Chang halted by the door. "When your client agrees in this arrangement, instruct him to return to me the statue. When he does so, six members of his organization will reappear."
"The statue will be in your hands within the hour," the lawyer said, with a defeated air and then departed in haste.
The solicitor departed in haste.
"Holmes," I said, as soon as the man was gone, "you don't intend to give the Pigott Diamond to Chu San Fu."
"I intend to break him," was Holmes's grim response.
He crossed to the window with rapid strides, peering through the drapes. What he saw seemed to give him satisfaction for he gave vent to a chuckle.
"Loo Chang is departing with Slippery Styles, the human shadow, on his trail. Sooner or later the solicitor will return to his office. 'Tis then that Slim Gilligan will enter the picture."
Noting my blank look, Holmes continued. "Both Alex MacDonald and Wakefield Orloff are very interested in the names, locations and income derived from Chu San Fu's various enterprises. The Chinaman is very businesslike and organized and there should be more revealing information in the files of his lawyer."
I did not question this matter, realizing that Holmes was taking full advantage of his unofficial status and following a line of investigation not open to the authorities.
Holmes reverted to the matter of the diamond.
"By now, Chu must realize that Basil Selkirk has the stone. Rather than have him attack Selkirk's residence or involve himself in some similar skullduggery, it is best to let him think I'll secure the diamond. Besides, with Vasil D'Anglas arriving tomorrow from Berlin, I need the statue. That was our original commission, if you recall."
"But D'Anglas will expect the diamond to be in the statue. He, of all people, knows the secret of the Golden Bird."
"We have a touchy point there, Watson. The last legal owner of the gem died sixty years ago. Who does own it?"
"Streeter was definite on that point. The possesser in this case, Selkirk, is the owner."
"But we know something that the crown jeweler did not. My theory is that D'Anglas's grandfather secreted the stone and married Vasilikee, Ali Pasha's wife. Theoretically, Vasilikee owned the stone upon the death of her husband, the Lion of Janina. Which makes our client, Vasil D'Anglas, the man with the best claim on the gem."
"We are stretching things a bit, are we not?"
"My blushes, Watson. The fact is that I was commissioned to secure the Golden Bird at the time when the diamond was still concealed within it. Therefore, I intend to honor the interests of our first client, Vasil D'Anglas."
"But how do you hope to get the diamond from Basil Selkirk?"
"I really don't know," said Holmes, to my surprise. "That could well be a two-pipe problem, at least."
As it happened, I was never to learn what plans Holmes made to separate the eccentric millionaire from the Pigott Diamond, for the following morning we received startling news indeed.
20
The Deadman's Code
217
Holmes and I had just disposed of a fullsome breakfast when there was a light tap on our door.
"Come in, Billy," said Holmes. He had the uncanny ability to hear and identify any footfalls on the seventeen steps leading to our first-floor chambers.
The page boy entered with an envelope in his hand, which he gave to Holmes.
"This 'ere just arrived, sir, by special messenger. 'E's waitin' downstairs in case there is a response."
Holmes tore open the envelope eagerly. It contained a letter in longhand and an additional sheet of stationery, which I noted was machine-written. This was what Holmes glanced at first and his lips pursed in a soundless whistle. He passed the typed sheet to me and began to read the rest of the communique.
The typewritten message was terse and shocking.
Basil Selkirk died in his sleep last night. The enclosed is being rushed to you to comply with specific instructions given to me by the deceased. I am further instructed to cooperate with you to any extent you may require. Please advise if I can be of assistance.
Cedric Falmouth,
Personal Secretary to Mr. Selkirk
"The blond youngish man," I said, my mind going back to our visit to the castle of the eccentric millionaire.
Holmes grunted, his eyes devouring words. Then he leaned back for a moment in thought.
"Billy," he said, finally, "inform the messenger to stand by until I reach a decision."
"Right you are, Mr. 'Olmes." The page boy was gone.
"Let me read this to you, Watson. As you may have guessed, it was written by Basil Selkirk in a reasonably steady hand." He held the expensive stationery closer to his eyes to study the ink. "Quite recently, I would say. Surely within the week . . .
My dear Mr. Holmes:
Though it may not have been your intent, you did bring joy into the dull life of an aged man. Even more important, you gave me, in these last days, for the sands are running out, a moment of triumph. It was your reference to the year of 1822 that gave me the clue that unraveled the mystery of the Golden Bird. During this final period, I have been able to feast my eyes on the most unique gem in history—a famous diamond that, officially, does not exist, but we know better, do we not? By this time, you have arrived at the truth regarding the Pigott Diamond. Alas, the cold that lurks within my withered shell is increasing and I foresee a lengthy passage to a land where I cannot take my treasure with me. Or anything else, for that matter, save a reputation that bodes ill for my reception beyond the pale. Therefore, sir, I leave the Pigott to you, but it cannot be as easy as that. You must work a bit for it though my little riddle is not so baffling that it will provide puzzlement for long. When this reaches you, I shall not be able to bid you Godspeed in person. Allow me to do so now ...
Basil Selkirk
I crossed to stand behind Holmes and gaze at the letter and the last message of that chilling, yet strangely ingratiating, man.