The Big Book of Sherlock Holmes Stories (54 page)

I HAVE ALREADY
had occasion, in the course of these reminiscences of my friend Sherlock Holmes, to refer to his liking for the Diogenes Club, the club which contained the most unsociable men in London and forbade talking save in the Strangers' Room. So far as I am aware, this was the only club to which Holmes was attracted, and it struck me as not a little curious that he should have been called upon to solve the extraordinary mystery of the Megatherium Thefts.

It was a dull afternoon in November and Holmes, turning wearily from the cross-indexing of some old newspaper-cuttings, drew his chair near to mine and took out his watch.

“How slow life has become, my dear Watson,” he said, “since the successful conclusion of that little episode in a lonely west-country village. Here we are back amongst London's millions and nobody wants us.”

He crossed to the window, opened it a little, and peered through the November gloom into Baker Street.

“No, Watson, I'm wrong. I believe we are to have a visitor.”

“Is there someone at the door?”

“Not yet. But a hansom has stopped opposite to it. The passenger has alighted and there is a heated discussion in progress concerning the fare. I cannot hear the argument in detail, but it is a lively one.”

A few minutes later the visitor was shown into the sitting-room—a tall, stooping figure with a straggling white beard, shabbily dressed and generally unkempt. He spoke with a slight stutter.

“M-Mr. Sherlock Holmes?” he inquired.

“That is my name,” replied Holmes, “and this is my friend, Dr. Watson.”

The visitor bowed jerkily and Holmes continued: “And whom have I the honour of addressing?”

“My n-name is Wiskerton—Professor Wiskerton—and I have ventured to call upon you in connexion with a most remarkable and puzzling affair.”

“We are familiar with puzzles in this room, Professor.”

“Ah, but not with any like this one. You see, apart from my p-professorial standing, I am one of the oldest members of——”

“The Megatherium?”

“My dear sir, how did you know?”

“Oh, there was no puzzle about that. I happened to hear some reference in your talk with the cabman to your journey having begun at Waterloo Place. Clearly you had travelled from one of two clubs and somehow I should not associate you with the United Services.”

“You're p-perfectly right, of course. The driver of that cab was a rapacious scoundrel. It's s-scandalous that——”

“But you have not come to consult me about an extortionate cab-driver?”

“No, no. Of course not. It's about——”

“The Megatherium?”

“Exactly. You see, I am one of the oldest m-members and have been on the Committee
for some years. I need hardly tell you the kind of standing which the Megatherium has in the world of learning, Mr. Holmes.”

“Dr. Watson, I have no doubt, regards the institution with veneration. For myself, I prefer the soothing atmosphere of the Diogenes.”

“The w-what?”

“The Diogenes Club.”

“N-never heard of it.”

“Precisely. It is a club of which people are not meant to hear—but I beg your pardon for this digression. You were going to say?”

“I was g-going to say that the most distressing thing has happened. I should explain in the first place that in addition to the n-noble collection of books in the Megatherium library, a collection which is one of our most valuable assets, we have available at any one time a number of books from one of the circulating libraries and——”

“And you are losing them?”

“Well—yes, in fact we are. But how did you know?”

“I didn't know—I merely made a deduction. When a client begins to describe his possessions to me, it is generally because some misfortune has occurred in connexion with them.”

“But this is m-more than a m-misfortune, Mr. Holmes. It is a disgrace, an outrage, a——”

“But what, in fact, has happened?”

“Ah, I was c-coming to that. But perhaps it would be simpler if I showed you this document and let it speak for itself. P-personally, I think it was a mistake to circulate it, but the Committee over-ruled me and now the story will be all over London and we shall still be no nearer a solution.”

Professor Wiskerton fumbled in his pocket and produced a printed document marked
Private and Confidential
in bold red type.

“What do you m-make of it, Mr. Holmes? Isn't it extraordinary? Here is a club whose members are selected from among the most distinguished representatives of the arts and sciences and this is the way they treat the c-club property.”

Holmes paid no attention to the Professor's rambling commentary and continued his reading of the document.

“You have brought me quite an interesting case, Professor,” he said, at length.

“But it is more than interesting, Mr. Holmes. It is astonishing. It is inexplicable.”

“If it were capable of easy explanation, it would cease to be interesting and, furthermore, you would not have spent the money on a cab-fare to visit me.”

“That, I suppose, is true. But what do you advise, Mr. Holmes?”

“You must give me a little time, Professor. Perhaps you will be good enough to answer one or two questions first?”

“Willingly.”

“This document states that your Committee is satisfied that no member of the staff is implicated. You are satisfied yourself on that point?”

“I am not s-satisfied about anything, Mr. Holmes. As one who has s-spent a great part of his life amongst books and libraries, the whole subject of the maltreatment of books is repugnant to me. Books are my life-blood, Mr. Holmes. But perhaps I have not your s-sympathy?”

“On the contrary, Professor, I have a genuine interest in such matters. For myself, however, I travel in those byways of bibliophily which are associated with my own profession.”

Holmes moved across to a shelf and took out a volume with which I had long been familiar.

“Here, Professor,” he continued, “if I may rid myself of false modesty for the moment, is a little monograph of mine
Upon the Distinction Between the Ashes of the Various Tobaccos
.”

“Ah, most interesting, Mr. Holmes. Not being a smoker myself, I cannot pretend to appraise your work from the point of view of scholarship, but as a bibliophile and especially as a c-collector of out-of-the-way monographs, may I ask whether the work is still available?”

“That is a spare copy, Professor; you are welcome to it.”

The Professor's eyes gleamed with voracious pleasure.

“But, Mr. Holmes, this is m-most generous of you. May I b-beg that you will inscribe it? I derive a special delight from what are called ‘association copies.' ”

“Certainly,” said Holmes, with a smile, as he moved to the writing-table.

“Thank you, thank you,” murmured the Professor, “but I fear I have distracted you from the main issue.”

“Not at all.”

“But what is your p-plan, Mr. Holmes? Perhaps you would like to have a look round the Megatherium? Would you care, for instance, to have luncheon to-morrow—but no, I fear I am engaged at that time. What about a c-cup of tea at 4 o'clock?”

“With pleasure. I trust I may bring Dr. Watson, whose co-operation in such cases has frequently been of great value?”

“Oh-er-yes, certainly.”

But it did not seem to me that there was much cordiality in his assent.

“Very well, then,” said Holmes. “The document which you have left with me gives the facts and I will study them with great care.”

“Thank you, thank you. To-morrow, then, at 4 o'clock,” said the Professor, as he shook hands, “and I shall t-treasure this volume, Mr. Holmes.”

He slipped the monograph into a pocket and left us.

“Well, Watson,” said Holmes, as he filled his pipe, “What do you make of this curious little case?”

“Very little, at present. I haven't had a chance to examine the data.”

“Quite right, Watson. I will reveal them to you.” Holmes took up the sheet which the Professor had left.

“This is a confidential letter circulated to members of the Megatherium and dated November 1889. I'll read you a few extracts:

“ ‘In a recent report the Committee drew attention to the serious loss and inconvenience caused by the removal from the Club of books from the circulating library. The practice has continued….At the end of June, the Club paid for no less than 22 missing volumes. By the end of September 15 more were missing….The Committee were disposed to ascribe these malpractices to some undetected individual member, but they have regretfully come to the conclusion that more members than one are involved. They are fully satisfied that no member of the staff is in any way implicated….If the offenders can be identified, the Committee will not hesitate to apply the Rule which empowers expulsion.'

“There, Watson, what do you think of that?”

“Most extraordinary, Holmes—at the Megatherium, of all clubs.”

“
Corruptio optimi pessima
, my dear Watson.”

“D'you think the Committee is right about the servants?”

“I'm not interested in the Committee's opinions, Watson, even though they be the opinions of Bishops and Judges and Fellows of the Royal Society. I am concerned only with the facts.”

“But the facts are simple, Holmes. Books are being stolen in considerable quantities from the club and the thief, or thieves, have not been traced.”

“Admirably succinct, my dear Watson. And the motive?”

“The thief's usual motive, I suppose—the lure of illicit gain.”

“But what gain, Watson? If you took half a dozen books, with the mark of a circulating library on them, to a secondhand bookseller, how much would you expect to get for them?”

“Very little, certainly, Holmes.”

“Yes, and that is why the Committee is probably right in ruling out the servants—not that I believe in ruling out anybody or anything on
a priori
grounds. But the motive of gain won't do. You must try again, Watson.”

“Well, of course, people are careless about books, especially when they belong to someone else. Isn't it possible that members take these books away from the club, intending to return them, and then leave them in the train or mislay them at home?”

“Not bad, my dear Watson, and a perfectly reasonable solution if we were dealing with a loss of three or four volumes. In that event our Professor would probably not have troubled to enlist my humble services. But look at the figures, Watson—twenty-two books missing in June, fifteen more in September. There's something more than casual forgetfulness in that.”

“That's true, Holmes, and I suppose we can't discover much before we keep our appointment at the Megatherium tomorrow.”

“On the contrary, my dear Watson, I hope to pursue a little independent investigation this evening.”

“I should be delighted to accompany you, Holmes.”

“I am sure you would, Watson, but if you will forgive me for saying so, the little inquiry I have to make is of a personal nature and I think it might be more fruitful if I were alone.”

“Oh, very well,” I replied, a little nettled at Holmes's superior manner, “I can employ myself very profitably in reading this new work on surgical technique which has just come to hand.”

I saw little of Holmes on the following morning. He made no reference to the Megatherium case at breakfast and disappeared shortly afterwards. At luncheon he was in high spirits. There was a gleam in his eye which showed me that he was happily on the trail.

“Holmes,” I said, “you have discovered something.”

“My dear Watson,” he replied, “your acuteness does you credit. I have discovered that after an active morning I am extremely hungry.”

But I was not to be put off.

“Come, Holmes, I am too old a campaigner to be bluffed in that way. How far have you penetrated into the Megatherium mystery?”

“Far enough to make me look forward to our tea-party with a lively interest.”

Being familiar with my friend's bantering manner, I recognized that it was no good pressing him with further questions for the moment.

Shortly after 4 o'clock Holmes and I presented ourselves at the portals of the Megatherium. The head porter received us very courteously and seemed, I thought, almost to recognize Sherlock Holmes. He conducted us to a seat in the entrance-hall and, as soon as our host appeared, we made our way up the noble staircase to the long drawing-room on the first floor.

“Now let me order some tea,” said the Professor. “Do you like anything to eat with it, Mr. Holmes?”

“Just a biscuit for me, Professor, but my friend Watson has an enormous appetite.”

“Really, Holmes——” I began.

“No, no. Just a little pleasantry of mine,” said Holmes, quickly. I thought I observed an expression of relief on the Professor's face.

“Well, now, about our p-problem, Mr. Holmes. Is there any further information that I can give you?”

“I should like to have a list of the titles of the books which have most recently disappeared.”

“Certainly, Mr. Holmes, I can get that for you at once.”

The Professor left us for a few minutes and returned with a paper in his hand. I looked over Holmes's shoulder while he read and recognized several well-known books that had been recently published, such as
Robbery under Arms, Troy Town, The Economic Interpretation of History, The Wrong Box, and Three Men in a Boat
.

“Do you make any particular deductions from the titles, Mr. Holmes?” the Professor asked.

“I think not,” Holmes replied; “there are, of course, certain very popular works of fiction, some other books of more general interest, and a few titles of minor importance. I do not think one could draw any conclusion about the culprit's special sphere of interest.”