Saying this, he drew a cigar out of its case and threw himself back in his seat. ‘When a city or a government isn’t sufficiently concerned with the grey mass of people and is only interested in preserving the interests of the bureaucracy and the capitalist class, that’s what always happens. The grey mass, driven in on itself, sinks like a stone in water.’
In the meantime, our ghastly cabriolet with its metal wheels stopped outside the Moscow Grand Hotel. We settled with the unprepossessing driver and went to our room.
The first thing that we saw, as we came in, was a sealed envelope placed conspicuously in such a way that we could not miss it.
‘I can already anticipate something new,’ said Sherlock Holmes, opening and reading it.
‘Maxim Vasilyevitch Kliukin, publisher and book store proprietor, invites you, Watson, and me – to see him on an urgent matter,’ he added as he finished reading the letter and placed it back on the table.
‘And you, of course, are off to see him instantly.’
‘But, of course. After all, we haven’t done much this month and it wouldn’t go amiss to give ourselves a little shake-up. Let’s have a leisurely lunch and then make our way along Mohovaya Street, where he owns a store.’
We changed, went down to the restaurant, chose a table and ordered lunch.
II
At about five in the afternoon we came out on to the square where the Duma stands, turned into Tversky Boulevard, turned into Mohovaya Street and went in the direction of the university.
‘I think I can just about imagine what they’ll tell me when we get there,’ Holmes said as we walked along. ‘If you have read the news in the Moscow papers, you must have seen accounts of a whole number of robberies from major publishers during the last year. Kliukin’s publishing house, as well as his book store, are amongst the biggest in Moscow both as regards the number of publications as well as the variety on sale.’
‘He probably got taken for quite a lot,’ I interrupted, ‘but it seems strange that he decided to come to us.’
Sherlock Holmes shrugged, ‘In order for you not to be surprised, and to understand the reason, you have only to remember our conversation on Tversky Boulevard.’
Without much trouble, we found Benkendorff House in which Kliukin’s store was situated. We asked whether we could see the owner, to which the shop assistant pointed at a lean, darkhaired, middle-aged man sitting at a desk. The desk stood beside one of the display windows and was piled high with papers. We approached him.
‘I had the honour of receiving from you today a letter addressed to me at the Moscow Grand Hotel,’ said Sherlock Holmes with a bow.
The publisher immediately realized who we are. He shook us by the hand, asked us to wait a few moments and went into a back room.
‘My son will be here in a minute and I would ask you to wait for his arrival,’ he said when he returned. ‘This is not the place to talk about such matters. With your permission, we will adjourn elsewhere, where you will be told in detail everything concerning my request for your presence.’
Holmes bowed silently. Only a couple of minutes passed and a young man, wearing a school uniform, walked in and Maxim Vasilyevitch Kliukin handed him a set of keys, meanwhile asking us to follow.
We followed Kliukin for a couple of hundred steps along Mohovaya Street and found ourselves at the Peterhof tavern. Up the stairs we went and along a corridor with private rooms along it. We passed several doors and entered one of the larger rooms in which, to our great surprise, a fairly large number of people were already waiting. Several rose to meet us when we came in, and Mr Kliukin introduced us.
I don’t remember all their surnames, but I did remember Messrs Yefimoff, Karbasnikoff, Suvorin and others. All those present were either publishers or the owners of major book stores.
After the initial polite exchanges, Sherlock Holmes asked Mr Kliukin to come to the point without further ado.
‘This is what it is all about,’ Maxim Vasilyevitch Kliukin began. ‘I speak at the request and on behalf of all those present. We are ten publishers and store owners from which a considerable number of books have vanished this past year. We have searched and searched for them but, so far, to no avail. I accidentally heard of your presence in Moscow and decided to tempt fortune, to ask you for help.’
‘I am at your service,’ said Holmes.
‘You see,’ said Kliukin, ‘as I have already said, we have no direct evidence against anyone. Nevertheless, owing to certain considerations, we are led to suspect certain minor bookstore proprietors who are buying up goods stolen from us. So far, it is unclear to us who carried out the robberies and how, but we are able to give you the names of ten people who, we think, merit special attention.’
‘You will let me write down their names?’ asked Holmes and took out a notebook.
‘Of course,’ said Kliukin. He dictated the names of bookstores in various parts of town with their precise addresses.
‘And this is all you have for me?’ asked Holmes.
‘Alas, yes,’ said the publisher.
‘Another question.’
‘I am listening.’
‘Do you sell your books in complete form, i.e. including bindings?’
‘Of course, it would be strange if that were not the case,’ said the publisher in surprise.
We discussed a few more trivial details and, having carefully written down the addresses of the stores that had been robbed, we bade the company farewell and left the restaurant.
III
For the rest of the day and evening Holmes worked his way with painstaking care through a reference book, occasionally going downstairs to use the telephone. At the same time he called for a courier and told him to order notepaper with the heading ‘Ivan Ivanovitch Sergeyev, Publisher,’ and this was to be done as a matter of urgency.
Early the next morning the notepaper was delivered by the printer. Again, Holmes got to work on the telephone.
At the same time, I had to find out from all the publishers we had met the previous day what exactly they published and which books were principally stocked in their warehouses during the period of the robberies. A few hours of work and we had quite a list before us.
‘And now, Watson, we can get down to some real work,’ said Sherlock Holmes with a determined air.
Sitting down to our desk, we divided between us those book stores which the publishers had indicated as under suspicion.
We had four shops each. We each kept a copy of the list.
It is necessary to note that, at the request of Sherlock Holmes, the publishers who had been robbed were asked to give precise figures as to which books and what quantities had been ordered by those under suspicion. None of the figures was considerable. Each had ordered between one and three copies.
‘Remember, my dear Watson,’ said Sherlock Holmes, ‘we will have to visit all the shops and ask for precisely those books which have vanished at the same time. It goes without saying that, in every case, we will ask for a higher number of copies than those the firm ordered.’
I fully comprehended Holmes’s thinking. Indeed, this was the only way of coming across any trace.
At the same time, an error was possible and I couldn’t refrain from putting it before Holmes. ‘It might very well be that, despite the absence of the goods we ask for, the firm would tell us to wait a few minutes while they send a messenger to fetch them from the requisite publisher.’
‘Of course,’ answered Holmes, ‘your presupposition is more than possible. But we can always telephone the publisher and ask whether a messenger came, who sent him and how many copies he took.’