The Lost Radio Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (6 page)

Read The Lost Radio Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Online

Authors: Ken Greenwald

Tags: #detective, #myster, #plays, #Sherlock Holmes, #victoriana, #SSC

BOOK: The Lost Radio Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
11.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Now really Mr.
Holmes,” Lady Ann questioned, “how can you possibly identify an individual
tobacco?”

“It’s a hobby of
mine. In fact, I’ve even written a monograph on the subject. Now, one more look
at the safe itself. If you’ll excuse me again, Lady Ann.”

As Holmes continued
his investigation, I observed that Lady Ann was coming to see Holmes in a far
more respectful manner.

For that matter,
I was also, for Holmes, in his inimitable manner, was picking up each and every
clue we had so carefully left for him!

“Hello,” he said
aloud, “what is this bit of dust? It’s rosin! A distinct trace of rosin! Lady
Ann, I suggest that you get in touch with Scotland Yard, at once!”

“You mean that
you’ve solved it, Holmes?”

“I mean, doctor,
that I can give you a reasonably complete picture of the thief, and that
picture is so individual that I’d be surprised if it would fit more than one
man in London!”

“This is pure
magic, Mr. Holmes. Please describe him to me,” Lady Ann said, seating herself
on the couch.

“Well, he’s a
tall man. The width of his stride indicates that, and he’s thin.”

“What enables
you to tell that, Holmes?” I said with genuine curiosity.

“His footprints
have made a remarkably light indentation on the nap of the carpet. Our thief
dabbles extensively in chemicals, as indicated by the tarnishing of the knob on
the safe. And the traces of rosin would suggest that he plays the violin, also.
He smokes shag tobacco. He has a great practical knowledge of how to defeat
combination safe locks, and he’s obviously in close contact with the criminal
classes.”

“Just how do you
know that, Mr. Holmes?”

“I doubt he
would steal a famous stone unless he knew how to dispose of it; through some
trustworthy fence no doubt.”

“Yes, it’s a
very comprehensive picture, Holmes. I almost feel as if I knew the chap.”

“Thank you,
doctor,” said Holmes.

Lady Ann could
go on no longer. Her laughter filled the room with its bright and cheery sound.

“I agree
entirely, Mr. Holmes,” she finally said. “Dr. Watson, I think the joke has gone
far enough.”

Holmes first
gave me, then Lady Ann, a complete look of bewildered astonishment.

“Joke?” he
questioned, “what do you mean?”

“You’re quite
right, Holmes,” I said laughing. “You’re positively uncanny with that
magnifying glass. You say there’s only one such man in London. What you’ve
done, my dear chap, is given a perfect description of YOURSELF!”

“April Fool, Mr.
Holmes!” Lady Ann said with glee, then turned towards the drawing room door. “Dr.
Stamford, Mr. Murphy, you can come in now!”

Stamford and
Murphy came into the living room yelling “APRIL FOOL.” We laughed and joked
with Holmes, who, himself, accepted the hoax in good stride. Our laughter
subsided shortly and we began to fall into delightful discussion, before Lady
Ann interrupted us.

“Gentlemen, come
along into the drawing room. Let us drink a glass of wine to Mr. Holmes, who
has so graciously forgiven us for the little trick we played on him. And also
to Dr. Stamford who thought of the whole idea!”

“I hope there
are no hard feelings, Holmes,” I said, still feeling guilty for pulling the
wool over my friend’s eyes.

“No, no, doctor,”
Holmes said laughingly, “though it was a rather embarrassing experience.”

“When Murphy
told me about the plan, I just couldn’t resist joining them.”

Stamford had
poured the drinks and gave them to us as we continued to talk.

“You know
Murphy, don’t you, Mr. Holmes?” said Stamford.

“No, I don’t
think we’ve met. How do you do, sir.”

“How do you do,
Holmes. How did you like the little game we played on you?”

“It was rather a
salutary experience. I suppose you gave them all the details to build up the
picture of me, Watson?”

“Yes I did,
Holmes. Knowing some of your methods, we tried to plant every clue which, I
must say, you found.”

“A very neat
job, gentlemen. And incidentally, this is a perfect example of the dangers of
deductions based on purely circumstantial evidence. I shall profit from this
little lesson.”

“I must say,” Stamford
added, “it was worth a fortune in emeralds to see your face, Holmes, when you
realized what you’d done.”

“By the way,” I
said, looking around, “Where is Lady Ann?”

“I believe she
said she was going to fetch the Elfenstone Emerald. She thought you might be
interested in seeing it,” proffered Murphy.

“She probably
feels the sight of it will salve my wounded vanity,” Holmes said, a laugh in
his voice.

In a moment,
Lady Ann returned, pale as a sheet. Holmes and I quickly helped her to a chair.
She looked up and grabbed Holmes by the arm.

“Mr. Holmes, the
emerald, it’s . . . it’s not where I hid it! This time it’s really stolen!”

All of us stood
before Lady Ann, quite stunned by this revelation. Our April Fool’s joke had
turned completely around, so as to make fools of us all. I was looking at
Holmes to see his reaction to this latest news on the emerald, and it gladdened
my heart to see a sudden change in him. I must confess that I felt rather
ashamed of my part in the prank, for I could see that Holmes’ pride had been
hurt. But now, only a few scant minutes after we had our laugh, and with a
definite crime before him, the difference in Holmes was amazing. He suddenly
became a dynamo, quickly galvanized into action as he stood before us, firing
questions at all the members of the so-called conspiracy.

“Lady Ann, who
beside yourself knew of this fresh hiding place?”

“Both Murphy and
I did, Mr. Holmes,” said Stamford.

“Yes, after we
left our deliberate clues on the safe,” Murphy added, “we went with Lady Ann
and saw her secrete the emerald in the top drawer of her dressing table.”

“We thought it
would be all right there,” Lady Ann said, “After all, as soon as the joke was
over, I was going to put it back in the safe.”

“I think our
wisest plan, before we question the servants, would be for each one of you in
this April Fool’s day prank to submit to being searched.”

“Holmes,” objected
Stamford most firmly, “surely you don’t suggest that anyone of us took the
emerald?”

“No, Stamford, I
don’t. But if any one of you four are not guilty, this will be a splendid way
of proving your innocence!”

“Steady Holmes,”
I said, astounded by the implied accusation, “you’re not suggesting that Lady
Ann stole her own emerald, are you?”

“I’m suggesting
nothing. But let me point out that the recent vogue for . . . what shall we say
. . . you know, the insurance companies, has provided another interesting
motive for these ‘so called’ thefts.”

“I resent your
insinuation! It’s outrageous!”

“Lady Ann,” Holmes
insisted, “if I am to recover your emerald, I must at least consider every
possibility. A search is the most immediate practical action, therefore I would
suggest that perhaps you could retire into the next room while I persuade these
gentleman to submit to being searched. Then, with all due respect, I shall have
to call someone in, of your own gender of course, to have you searched.”

“Very well,” retorted
Lady Ann in frustration, “but I think you’re in danger of making a fool of
yourself once again!”

As Lady Ann
prepared to leave, Murphy stepped forward and raised his hand, drawing all
attention onto himself.

“Wait,” he said,
“don’t . . . don’t go, Lady Ann. A search won’t be necessary.”

What do you
mean, Murphy?” I questioned.

“I must throw
myself on your mercy, Lady Ann. I confess that I stole the emerald! After you
put it in the drawer, Lady Ann, I slipped back into the room and took it out.”

Everyone was
staring at Murphy.

“That’s a
criminal action!” I exclaimed.

“I know it,” he
returned. “But I’m poor. I need money desperately for my mathematical research.
I knew the emerald was priceless and I couldn’t resist the temptation to take
advantage of a joke. Here Lady Ann, here’s the stone. Please, I beg you, do not
prosecute. Please don’t. It’ll be my ruin.”

It was then I
noticed Holmes. While all attention was on Murphy and what he was saying,
Holmes had slowly circled round the group and placed himself conveniently next
to the man.

“May I examine
the emerald?” he said quietly. Without waiting for permission, he took the
stone and began to slowly turn it over and over in his hand.

“Well, Mr.
Murphy,” said an astonished and annoyed Lady Ann, “I won’t pretend that I’m not
deeply shocked. I must ask you to leave my house!”

“But you won’t
prosecute me, will you? It was only a moment’s temptation.”

“No, Mr. Murphy,
I won’t prosecute you.”

I had been
watching Holmes closely, and saw a slight smile cross his lips. He reached into
his vest pocket and pulled out a very small vial with a clear liquid in it.

“Holmes,” I
asked, “what are you doing with the emerald?”

“An appropriate
question, doctor. Well, knowing something of the deceptive ways of thieves, I
came on this case fully prepared to test the emerald when I found it. Now, a
drop of this acid from this vial, so, and we shall see.”

Lady Ann rose
from her chair and came towards Holmes.

“Mr. Holmes,
what are you doing? You’ll injure the stone.”

“No, not if it’s
a true emerald.”

We all gazed at
the emerald. Within seconds, the answer came.

“Good Lord, the
acid’s eating through the stone as if it were sugar!” I exclaimed.

“Then that means
. . .” said Lady Ann.

Holmes turned
and faced Murphy, staring squarely into his eyes.

“It means, Lady
Ann, that Mr. Murphy has just imperiled his honor and his freedom, to steal a
singularly beautiful FAKE!”

I cannot tell
you how disparaging this incident made us feel. Holmes threw the fake emerald
on the table, seated himself before us and quite calmly smiled at Murphy. Lady
Ann, in what appeared to be a state of near panic, sat down beside Holmes and
looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Lady Ann, I
must question your servants without hesitation. Please send them to me, one at
a time. In due course, we shall all gather here in this room again. In the
meantime, I wish Dr. Watson to restrain all of you in the dining room until my
questioning of the servants is over. Watson, please to do me the honors.”

I took everyone
into the dining room where they seated themselves. While they talked, I quietly
fetched each servant and in turn sent them into the living room to be
confronted by Holmes. In due course Holmes opened the door and beckoned
Stamford and Murphy into the living room. A short while later the door was
again opened and Holmes asked Lady Ann to enter her bedroom, there to be
searched by a private matron. It was not long we once again were gathered in
the living room facing Holmes. He stood by the fireplace, his hands folded behind
his back as he glanced from one to the other of us. Lady Ann stepped forward, a
look of near panic in her eyes.

“Mr. Holmes,
this ‘joke’ has turned into a nightmare! Is there no way of recovering my
emerald?”

“I hope so, Lady
Ann. I’ve been taking steps in their logical order: The servants have all been
questioned, and we’ve searched Mr. Stamford and Mr. Murphy.”

“Yes, a most
humiliating experience. Made me feel like a criminal!” Stamford said in
disgust.

“Well,
personally I was only too thankful to submit to a search this time; I knew I
had nothing to worry about,” added Murphy.

“You, yourself
Lady Ann,” I said, “you consented to being searched by the private matron that
Holmes sent for.”

“Only because he
threatened to send for the police if I didn’t. But, distasteful though it was,
I’d rather endure that than have this story on the front pages of the
newspapers.”

“And in spite of
all these rather unfriendly proceedings, we’ve gotten exactly nowhere as
regards finding the emerald!” said a disgruntled Stamford.

“But we have at
least eliminated the possibility that the thief is secreting the jewel on his
person.”

“So you still
think it is somewhere in these two rooms, Holmes?” I asked.

“I think so,
though there is one remaining possibility.”

“And that is?” questioned
Murphy.

“That the fake
stone was substituted for the real emerald sometime before all of you
engineered your April Fool’s day joke.”

“Oh no, Mr.
Holmes, that’s not possible. I know it was the genuine emerald I took out of
the safe this morning.”

“How can you be
sure? The substitute was an excellent imitation. Without a chemical test, such
as I performed, it would be hard to be certain!”

Other books

The Friday Tree by Sophia Hillan
Touchdown for Tommy by Matt Christopher
The Dead Man in Indian Creek by Mary Downing Hahn
Maurice’s Room by Paula Fox
Love or Luxury by Heather Thurmeier
[Firebringer 02] - Dark Moon by Meredith Ann Pierce