‘Patience, my dear Watson,’ came Holmes’s laconic words. ‘We must- ’He broke off, glancing sharply over my shoulder.
‘I see we are about to have an interesting encounter with an old friend.’
The now-familiar figure of Professor Sobel was approaching the café at a brisk pace. On catching sight of us he came to an abrupt stop, then waved energetically and hurried towards our table.
‘Mr. Holmes, I must thank you from the depths of my heart. Discovering nothing was the finest outcome we could have wished. Dr. Watson, I was on my way to your hotel to deliver this.’
He withdrew an envelope from a pocket. ‘I believe this should cover your expenses.’
I reached out a hand to receive the envelope.
As I did so I heard Holmes say, ‘You knew the truth all along, didn’t you, Professor Sobel?’
Holmes’s eyes were fixed on Professor Sobel’s as though reading his very soul. Both the Professor and I froze.
‘What do you mean, Mr. Holmes?’ he asked, a hint of anxiety in his tone.
‘Our hotel lies in a quite different direction - you were not on your way there,’ came the reply. ‘You had no idea Watson and I would be here, at the Café Bollwerk. You expected instead to meet your future Assistent, to tell him the good news, that we had discovered nothing. I am certain young Albert is hot-footing here even as we speak. We told the Rector there were no skeletons in Einstein’s cupboard, but you and I know that was not true.’
‘What did you find out?’ the Professor asked.
‘It will only confirm what I believe you yourself already know,’ Holmes replied.
‘Namely?’
‘That the Lieserl referred to in the first note was Einstein’s illegitimate daughter,’ Holmes continued. ‘That she died a violent death in Serbia aged around twenty-one months.’
The Professor stayed silent for a moment. Finally he asked, ‘Why did you choose not to disclose this to the Rector?’
Holmes seemed to reflect for a moment.
Finally he answered, ‘On balance, I felt Mileva’s well-being and her love for Einstein and their son Hans Albert obliged us to let sleeping dogs lie.’
The Professor broke into a relieved laugh. ‘I admit I did know more than I revealed,’ he exclaimed. ‘Even the Holy Patriarch when hungry will steal a piece of bread. When that first note arrived I confronted Einstein just as I described to you. I said the note had raised serious concern in the Rector’s mind and I insisted on knowing who Lieserl might be. I told Albert his entire career was teetering on the edge of the precipice and that my concern had not been quelled by his vehement response to the simple query, Do you know anyone called Lieserl? A mild “no”, with a polite “I’m afraid not” would have sufficed.’
‘Then the second note came,’ Holmes prompted.
‘Yes. I brought it with me to the Bollwerk and told Einstein of its content.’
‘How did he respond?’ I enquired.
‘The word “Titel” jolted him badly. He promised to take me into his confidence on the condition I would do everything to keep the matter from the Rector’s ears.’
‘I presume you agreed?’ I said.
‘I gave him my word.’
‘Continue please, Professor,’ Holmes ordered.
‘Einstein pleaded his case. He told me how hard he had fought to leave home and get into the Zurich Polytechnikum, about his struggle with the mathematics. How he wandered into a seminar and saw Mileva, a dark-haired Slav, sitting there, the only female student in the class. How she offered to help him. How they spent more and more time together until he forgot she had a limp and wore an orthopaedic shoe. And how they went secretly to Como in the spring of 1899 and there on the banks of the lake they made love.’
He went on, ‘When she realised she was pregnant Mileva begged Albert to let her stay with him here in Berne. He refused. Against her will he sent her back to Novi-Sad to have the child. He said he never saw it before it died.’
‘Did he say how the child died?’ Holmes asked.
‘He swore it was from Scarlet Fever.’
I intervened. ‘And you believed him?’
Professor Sobel shrugged and stayed silent.
‘Professor,’ I asked, my gorge rising, ‘if you knew all this, why - ?’
Holmes interrupted: ‘You mean, why did he send us galloping off to Serbia?’
‘That’s precisely what I mean.’
Holmes glanced at Professor Sobel.
‘Our Professor knows the world of Academe only too well. The smears, the jostling, the smouldering ambitions, the perpetual hatreds and jealousies. Desperately - more than anything in the world - our friend wanted Einstein in his Department. He already knew Einstein was an analytical genius in the making, an Isaac Newton, a Kepler. Professor - am I correct in believing Mileva gave you prior knowledge of the equivalence theory Einstein was about to launch on an astounded world?’
The Professor nodded. Holmes looked back to me.
‘Professor Sobel also knew from the minute the Rector sanctioned young Einstein’s employment in the Physics Department jealousies would erupt. Rumour-mongering would become rampant. A shadow of distrust would endanger Einstein’s position at the University. It could even wreck his career. The Department’s reputation would be sullied, the Rector humiliated. Pressed almost beyond endurance, the Professor cast around for a solution. And it was you, Watson, who gave him an opportunity he seized upon with alacrity.’
Before I could make an indignant protest, Holmes continued. ‘Professor, Watson’s ruse commending me for an Honoris causa landed on your desk. Astutely you realised all rumours about Einstein could be scotched before they arose if the great Sherlock Holmes investigated and found nothing. You were certain the Balkans would defeat us. Einstein’s reputation - and your Department’s-would be safe for ever.’
Holmes gave a grim smile. ‘It was a grave risk you took. It very nearly succeeded. I have said that if I had not become a Consulting Detective, I would have become a scientist. May I say that had you not become a scientist you would have made an excellent Sherlock Holmes.’
‘Or a second Moriarty!’ I exclaimed, seething with indignation.
‘Or a second Moriarty!’ Holmes agreed.
Both he and Professor Sobel burst into a roar of laughter at my hot displeasure.
Chapter XIII
Zorka Provides A Weapon Of Exemplary Power
Holmes and I sat together on the balcony of his room at the Hotel Sternen Muri. He was on his third (or was it fourth?) cigar of the morning, blowing little wavering rings of smoke up to the sky. I was ready for our return to England. My luggage contained a Brienz chalet cuckoo-clock with animated woodcutter figurines for Mrs. Hudson’s hallway. It would go well with the Aneroid Enamel Face Banjo barometer. Holmes had his Honorary Doctorate certificate. I could see no point in remaining in Switzerland a minute longer.
Finally I burst out, ‘Holmes, three days! You have kept us here, waiting, for three whole days! And for what?’
‘Patience, my dear Watson,’ came the exasperating reply. ‘We needed time to let her think it over - ’
From the room behind us we heard the sound of approaching footsteps.
‘But I believe the wait is over.’