Sherlock Holmes: Red Headed League
The story was first published in the U.K. in Strand Magazine, in the year 1891. The story inspired The Baker Street Robbery of 1971.
************************************
"You came at a better time, Mr Watson," he said cordially.
"I am afraid that you are engaged."
"Not at all. This gentleman, Mr Wilson has been my partner and helper in many of my successful cases, and I am sure that he will be of utmost use to me in yours also."
With a bob of greeting the stout gentleman rose from his chair, and his fat-encircled eyes gave me a questioning glance.
"Try sette," said Holmes, relapsing into the armchair, and putting his fingertips together, as was his custom when in judicial moods.
"I know my dear Watson, that you share my love of all that is bizzare and outside the conventions and humdrum routine of every day life. You have shown your relish for it by the enthusiasm which has prompted you to chronicle, and if, and, if you will excuse my saying so, somewhat to embellish so many of my little adventures."
"Your cases have been of great interest to me," said I.
"Take the case of Mary Sutherland,"[1] observed Holmes, "for strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go to life itself, it is always more daring than imagination."
"A proposition which I take the liberty of doubting."
"That is okay, but you must come round to my view, for otherwise I shall keep on filing fact upon fact on you, until your reason break down under them and acknowledges me to be right. Now, Mr Jabez Wilson here has been good enough to call upon me this morning, and begin a new narrative which promises to be one of most singular which I have listened to for some time. You have heard me remark that the strangest and most unique things are very often connected not with the larger but with the smaller crimes, and occasionally, indeed, where there is room for doubt whether any positive crime has been committed. As far as I have heard, it is impossible for me to say the present case is an instance of crime or not, but the course of events is certainly among the most singular that I have ever listened to. Perhaps Wilson, you would have the great kindness to recommence your narrative.
Mr Jabez Wilson pulled out a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the inside pocket of his greatcoat. As he glanced down the advertisement column, I took a good look at the man, and endeavoured to read it.
"Beyond the obvious fact that he has at some time done manual labour, that he takes snuff, that he is a freemason, that he has been in China, that he had done a considerable amount of writing lately, I can deduce nothing else." Came the comments of Sherlock Holmes.
Mr Jabez Wilson started up in his chair, with his forefinger upon the newspaper, but his eyes upon my companion.
"How in the name of good fortune, did you know all that, Mr Holmes? he asked. "How did you know, that I did manual labour. It is as true as gospel, because I began as a ship's carpenter."
"Your hands, my dear sir. Your right is quite larger than your left. You have worked with it, and the muscles are more developed."
"Well, the snuff and the Freemasonry?"
"I won't insult your intelligence by telling you how I read that, especially as, rather against the strict rules of your order, you use an arc and a compass breast pin."
"Ah, of course, I forgot that. But the writing?"
"What else can be indicated by that right cuff so very shiney for five inches, and the left one with the smooth patch near the elbow where you rest it upon the desk?"
"Well, but China?"
"The fish which you have tattooed above your right wrist could only have been done in China. I have made a small study of tattoo marks, and have even contributed to the literature of the subject. That trick of staining the fishes' scales of a delicate pink is quite peculiar to China. In addition I see a Chinese coin hanging from your watch-chain, the matter becomes more simple."
Mr Jabez Wilson laughed heavily. "Well I never!" said he. "I thought at first that you had done something clever, but I see that there was nothing in it after all."
"I begin to think, Watson," said Holmes, "I make a mistake in explaining. Omne ignotum pro magnifico, [2] you know, and my poor little reputation, will suffer shipwreck if I am so candid. Can you not find the advertisement, Mr Wilson?"
"Yes, I have got it now," he answered, with his thick, red finger planted half way down the column. "Here it is. This is what began it all. You just read it for yourself, sir."
I took the paper from him, and read as follows:-
TO THE RED HEADED LEAGUE. On account of the bequest of late Ezekaih Hopkins, of Lebanon, Penn., USA., there is now another vaccancy open which entitles a member of the league to a salary of four pounds a week for purely nominal services. All red-headed men who are sound in body and mind, and above the age of twenty one years, are eligible. Apply in person on Monday, at eleven o'clock, to Duncan Rose, at the office of the League, 7, Pope's-court, Fleet-Street."
"What on earth does this mean?" I ejaculated, after I had twice read over the extraordinary announcement.
Holmes chuckled and, and wriggled in his chair, as was his habit when in high spirits. "It is a little off the beaten track, isn't it?" said he. "And now, Mr Wilson, off you go at scratch, and tell us about yourself, your household, and the effect which this advertisement had upon your fortunes. You will first make a note, Doctor, of the paper and the date."
"It is The Morning Chronicle of April 27, 1890. Just two months ago."
"Very good. Now, Mr Wilson?"
"Well, it is just I have been telling you, Mr Sherlock Holmes," said Jabez Wilson, mopping his forehead, "I have a small pawn broker's business, at Coburg-square, near the city. It's not a very large affair, and of late years it has not done more than just giving me a living. I used to be able to keep two assistants, but now I only keep one; and I would have a job to pay him, but that he is willing to come for half wages, so as to learn the business."
"What is the name of this obliging youth?" asked Sherlock Holmes.
"His name is Vincent Spaulding, and he's not such a youth either. It's hard to say his age. I should not wish a smarter assistant, Mr Holmes; and I know very well that he could do better himself, and earn twice what I am able to give him. But after all, if he is satisfied, why should I put ideas in his head?"
"Why indeed? You seem most fortunate in having an employee who comes under the full market price. It is not a common experience among employers in this age. I don't know that your assistant is not as remarkable as your advertisement."
"Oh, he has his faults, too," said Mr Wilson. Never was such a fellow for photography. Snapping away with a camera when he thought to be improving his mind, and then diving down into the cellar like a rabbit into its hole to develop his pictures. That is the main fault; but, on the whole, he's a good worker. There's no vice in him."
"He is still with you, I presume."
"Yes, sir, he and a girl of fourteen, who does a bit of simple cooking, and keeps the place clean - that's all I have in the house, for I am a widower, and never had any family. We live very quietly, sir, three of us; and keep a roof over our heads, and pay our debts, if we do something more."
"The first thing that put us out was that advertisement. Spaulding, he came down to the office just this days eight weeks with this very paper in his hand, and says:-
"I wish to the lord, Mr Wilson, that I was a red-headed man."
"Why that?" I asks.
"Why," says he, "here is another vacancy on the League of the Red-headed men. It's worth quite a little fortune to any man who gets it, and I understand that there are more vacancies, so that the trustees are at their wits ends what to do with the money. If my head would only change the colour, here's a nice little crib all ready for me to get into."
"Why, What's it, then? I asked. You see Mr Holmes, I am a very stay-at-home man, and, as my business came to me instead of my having to go to it, I was often weeks on end without putting my foot over the door-mat. In that way I didn't know much of what was going on outside, and I was always glad of a bit of news."
"Have you never heard of the League of Red-headed men?", he asked with his eyes open.
"Never."
"Why, I wonder at that, for you are eligible yourself for one of the vacancies."
"And what are they worth?" I asked.
"Oh, merely a couple of a hundred a year, but the work is slight, and it need not interfere very much with one's other occupations."
"Well, you can easily that that made me prick up my cars, for the business had not been over good for some years, and an extra couple of hundred would have been very handy."
"Tell me all about it," said I.
"Well," said he, showing me the advertisement," you can see for yourself that the League has a vacancy, and there is the address where you should apply for the particulars. As far as I can make out, the League was founded by an American millionaire Kzekiah Hopkins, who was very particular in his ways. He was himself red-headed, and he had a great sympathy for all red-headed men, so when lie died, it was found that he had left his enormous fortunes on the hands of trustees, with instructions to apply the interest to the providing of easy berths to the men whose hair is of that colour. From all I hear it is a splendid pay, and very little to do."
"But," said I, "there would be millions of red-headed men who would apply."
" 'Not so many as you might think,' he answered. 'You see, it is really confined to Londoners, and to grown men. This American had started from London when he was young, and he wanted to do the old town a good turn. Then, again, I have heard it is no use your applying if your hair is light red, or dark red, or anything but real bright, blazing, fiery red. Now if you cared to apply, Mr Wilson, you would just walk in; but perhaps it would hardly be worth your while to put yourself out of the way for the sake of a few hundred pounds.'
"Now, it is a fact, gentlemen, as you may see for yourselves, that my hair is of a very full and rich tint, so that it seemed to me that, if there was to be any competition in the matter, I stood as good a chance as any man that I had ever met. Vincent Spaulding seemed to know so much about it that I thought he might prove useful, so I just ordered him to put up the shutters for the day, and to come right away with me. He was very willing to have a holiday, so we shut the business up, and started off for the address that was given in the advertisement."
"I never hope to see such a sight as that again, Mr Holmes. From north, south, east and west every man who had a shade of red in his hair had tramped into the city to answer the advertisement. Every shade of colour they were - straw, lemon, orange, Irish-setter, liver, clay; but as Spaulding said, there were not many who had the real vivid flame coloured tint. When I saw how many were waiting, I would have given it up in despair; but Spaulding would not hear of it. How he did it I could not imagine, he pushed and pulled and buttered until he got me through the crowd, and right upto the steps which led to the office. There was a double stream upon the stairs, some going up in hope, and some coming back dejected; but we edged in, as well as we could, and soon found ourselves in the office."
"Your experience has been most entertaining one," said Holmes, as his client paused and refreshed his memory with a huge pinch of snuff.
"Pray continue your interesting account."
"There was nothing in the office but a couple of wooden chairs and a deal table, behind which sat a small man, with a head that was even redder than mine. He said a few words to each candidate as he came up, and then he always managed to find some fault with them which would disqualify them. Getting a vacancy did not seem to be such an easy matter, after all. However, when our turn came, the little man was much more favourable to me than to any of others, and he closed the door as we entered, so that he might have a private word with us."
" 'This is Mr Jabez Wilson,' said my assistant, 'and he is willing to fill a vacancy in the League.'
'And he is admirably suited for it,' the other answered. 'He has every requirement. I cannot recall when I have seen anything so fine.' He took a step forward, cocked his head on one side, and gazed at my hair, until I felt quite bashful. Then suddenly he plunged forward, wrung my hand, and congratulated me warmly on my success.
" 'It would be injustice to hesitate," said he, 'you will, however, I am sure, excuse me for taking an obvious precaution,' with that he seized my hair in both hands, and tugged until I yelled with the pain. 'There is water in your eyes,' said he as he released me. 'I perceive that all is as it should be. But we have to be careful, for we have twice been deceived by wig and once by paint. I could tell you tales of cobbler's wax, which would disgust you with human nature.' He stepped over to the window, and shouted through it at the top of his voice that the vacancy was filled. A groan of disappointment came up from below, and the folk all trooped away in different directions, until there was not a red head to be seen except my own and that of the manager.
" 'My name is,' said he, 'Duncan Ross and I am myself one of the pensioners upon the fund by our noble benefactor. Are you a married man, Mr Wilson? Have you a family?'
''I answered that I had not.
"His face fell immediately.
" 'Dear me!' he said gravely, 'that is very serious indeed! I am sorry to hear you say that. The fund was, of course, for propogation and spread of Red-heads, as well as for their maintenance. It is exceedingly unfortunate that you should be a bachelor.'
"My face lengthened at this, Mr Holmes, for I thought I was not to have the vacancy afterall; but, after thinking it over a few minutes, he said that it would be all right.
" 'In the case of another,' said he, 'the objection might be fatal, but we must stretch a point in favour of a man with such a head of air as yours. When shall you be able to enter upon your new duties?'
" 'Well, it is little awkward, for I have business already.' said I.
" 'Oh, never mind about that Mr Wilson!' said Vincent Spaulding. 'I shall be able to look after that for you.'
" 'What would be the hours?' I asked.
" 'Ten to two.'
"Now, a pawn broker's is mostly done of evening, Mr Holmes, especially Thursday and Friday evening, which is just before pay day; so it would suit me very well to earn a little in the morning. Besides, I knew that my assistant was a good man, and that he would see to anything that turned up.
" 'That would suit me very well,' said I, 'And the pay?'
" 'Is 4 Pounds a week.'
" 'And the work?'
" 'Is purely nominal.'
" 'What do you call purely nominal?'
" 'Well you have to be in office, or at least in the building, the whole time. If you leave, you forfeit the whole position for ever. The will is very clear upon that point. You don't comply with the conditions if you budge from the office during that time.'
" 'It's only four hours a day, and I should not think of leaving,' said I.
" 'No excuse will avail,' said Mr Duncan Ross, 'neither sickness nor business or anything else. There you must stay, or you lose your billet.'
" 'And the work?'
" 'And to copy out "Encyclopædia Britannica." There is the first volume of it in the press. You must find your own ink, pens and blotting paper, but we provide this table and chair. Will you be ready tomorrow?'
" 'Certainly,' I answered.
" 'Then, goodbye, Mr Jabez Wilson, and let me congratulate you once more on the important position which you have been fortunate to gain.' He bowed me out of the room, and I went home with my assistant, hardly knowing what to say or do, I was so pleased at my own good fortune.
"Well, I thought over the matter all day, and by evening I was in low spirits again; for I had quite persuaded myself that whole affair must be some great hoax or fraud, though what its object might be I could not imagine. It seemed altogether past belief that anyone could make such a will, or that they would pay such a sum for doing anything so simple as copying out 'Encyclopædia Britannica.' Vincent Spaulding did what he could to cheer me up, but by bedtime I had reasoned myself out of the whole thing. However, in the morning I determined to have a look at it anyhow, and I bought a penny bottle of ink, and with a quill pen, and seven sheets of foolscap paper, I started off for Pope's Court.
"Well, to my surprise and delight, everything was as right as possible. The table was set out ready for me, Mr Duncan Ross was there to see that I got fairly to work. He started me off upon the letter A, and then he left me; but he would drop in from time to time to see that all was right with me. At two o'clock he bade me good-day, complimented me upon the amount that I had written, and locked the door of the office after me.
"This went on day after day, Mr Holmes, and on Saturday the manager came in and planked down four golden sovereigns for my week's work. It was the same next week, and the same week after. Every morning I was there at ten, and every afternoon I left at two. By degrees Mr Duncan Ross took to coming in only once of a morning, and then, after a time, he did not come in at all.
Still, of course, I never dared to leave the room for an instant, for I was not sure when he might come, and the billet was such a good one, and suited me so well, that I would not risk the loss of it.
"Eight weeks passed away like this, and I had started from A, and about to reach Azure, and might get on to Bs before long. And then suddenly the whole business came to an end."
"To an end?"
"Yes, Sir. This morning. As usual I was at the door, at ten o'clock. But the door was shut and locked. Here it is, you can read for yourself.
He held up a piece of white card-board about the size of a sheet of note-paper. It read as follows:-
"THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE
IS
DISSOLVED
October 9, 1890.
Sherlock Holmes and I surveyed this curt announcement and the rueful face behind it, until the comical side of the affair so completely overtopped every other considerations that we both burst out into a roar of laughter.
I cannot see that there is anything funny," cried out the client, flushing upto the roots of his flaming head.
"If you can do nothing better than laugh at me, I can go elsewhere."
"No, no," said Sherlock Holmes, shoving him back into the chair from which he had half risen. "I really wouldn't miss your case for the world. It is most most unusual. But there is something funny about it. Pray what step did you take when you found the card upon the door?"
"I staggered. I did not know what to do. Then I called at the offices round, but none of them seemed to know anything about it. Finally, I went to the landlord, who is an accountant living on the ground floor, and I asked him if he could tell me what had become of the Red-headed league. He said that he had never heard of any such body. Then I asked him who Mr Duncan Rose was. He answered that the name was new to him.
"Well, said I, the gentleman at No.4'
"What, the Red-headed man?'
"Yes,'
"Oh,' said he, 'his name was William Morris. He was a solicitor, and was using my room as a temporary convenience, until his new premises were ready. He moved out Yesterday.'
"Where could I find him?'
" 'At his new offices, he did tell me the address. Yes, 17 King Edward Street, near St Paul's.'
"I started off, Mr Holmes, but when I got to that address, it was a manufactory of artificial knee-caps, and no one in it heard of either William Morris or Duncan Ross."
"And what did you do then?" asked Holmes.
"I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square, and I took the advice of my assistant. But he could not help me in any way. He could only say that, if I waited I should hear by post. But that was not quite good enough, Mr Holmes. I did not wish to lose such a place, so as I heard that you were good enough to give advice to poor folk who were in need of it, I came right away to you."
"And you did very wisely," said Holmes, your case is an exceedingly remarkable one, and I shall be happy to look into it. From what you have told me I think that graver issues hang from it than might appear at first sight."
"Grave enough, I have lost four pound a week."
"No. You are richer by some 30 pounds a week. And you have got minute knowledge on everything under under letter A."
"No, sir," said Jabez Wilson, "but I want to find about them, who they are, why did they play this prank upon me. It was a pretty expensive joke for them."
"First of all," said Holmes, "we have to clear up these points. One or two questions: The assistant of yours who first called your attention to the advertisement - how long had he been with you?"
"About a month then."
"How did he come?"
"In an answer to the advertisement."
"Was he the only applicant?"
"No. I had a dozen."
"Why did you pick him?"
"Because he was handy, and would come cheap."
"At half wages, in fact."
"What is he like, this Vincent Spaulding?"
"Small, stout-built, very quick in his ways, no hair on his face, though he is not short of thirty. Has a white splash of acid upon his forehead."
Holmes sat up in his chair in considerable excitement. "I thought as much," said he. Have you ever observed that his ears are pierced for earrings?"
"Yes, sir. He told me that a gypsy had done it for him when he was a lad."
"Hum," said Holmes, sinking back in deep thought. "He is still with you?"
"Oh, yes, sir; I have only just left him."
"And has your business been attended to in your absence?"
"Nothing to complain of sir, there is never very much to do of a morning."
"That will do, Mr Wilson. I shall be happy to give you an opinion upon the subject in the course of a day or two. Today is Saturday, and I hope that by Monday, we may come to a conclusion."
"Well, Watson," said Holmes, when our visitor had left us, "what do you make of it all?"
"I make nothing of it," said I, frankly. "It is a most mysterious business."
"As a rule," said Holmes, the more bizzare a thing is the less mysterious it proves to be. It is your common place featureless crimes which are really puzzling, just as common place face is most difficult to identify. But I must be prompt over this matter."
"What are you going to do, then?" I asked.
"To smoke." he answered. "It is quite a three pipe problem, and I beg that you won't speak to me next fifty minutes."
I had a nap for the next fifty minutes.
As I opened my eyes, I saw him sprang out of the chair, with the gesture of a man who has made up his mind, and put his pipe down on the mantel-piece.
"Sarasate[*] plays at St James Hall this afternoon," he remarked. "What do you think, Watson?" Could your patients spare you for a few hours?"
"I have nothing to do today. My practice is never very absorbing."
"Then put on your hat and come. I am going through the city first, and we can have some lunch on the way. There is a good deal of German music on the program. It is introspective and I want to introspect. Come along."
We travelled by the Underground as far as Aldersgate; and a short walk took us to Saxe-Coburg Square, the scene of the singular story which we had listened to in the morning. It was a dull, little, shabby-genteel place, where four lines of dingy two-storied brick-houses looked out into a small railed-in enclosure, where a lawn of weedy grass and a few clumps of faded laurel bushes made a hard fight against smoke-laden and uncongenial atmosphere. Three gilt balls and a brown board with "JABEZ WILSON" in white letters, upon a corner house, announced the place where our red-headed client carried on his business. Sherlock Holmes stopped in front of it with his head on one side, and looked it all over, with his eyes shining brightly between puckered lids. Then he walked slowly up the street, and then down again to the corner, still looking keenly at the houses. Finally he returned to the pawn broker's, and having thumped vigorously upon the pavement with his stick two or three times, he went upto the door and knocked. It was instantly opened by a bright-looking, clean shaven young fellow, who asked him to step in.
"Thank you," said Holmes, "I only wished to ask you how you would go from here to the Strand."
"Third right, fourth left," answered the assistant, promptly, closing the door.
"Smart fellow," observed Holmes, as we walked away. "He is, in my judgement, the fourth smartest man in London, and for daring I am not sure that he has not a claim to be third. I have known something of him before."
"Evidently," said I, "Mr Wilson's assistant counts for good deal in this mystery. I am sure that you inquired your way merely to have a look at him."
"Not him."
"What then?"
"The knees of his trousers."
"And what did you see?"
"What I expected to see."
"Why did you beat the pavement?"
"My dear Doctor, this is a time for observation, not for talk. We are spies in an enemy's country. We know something of Saxe-Coburg Square. Let us now explore the parts which lie behind it."
The road in which we found ourselves as we turned round from Saxe-Coburg Square, was a contrast to it. It is one of the main arteries, which convey the traffic of the city. With immense stream of merchandise flowing in streams, both ways, and footpaths with hurrying swarm of pedestrians, the roadway was often blocked.
"Let me see," said Holmes, standing at the corner, and glancing along the line, "I should like just to remember the order of the houses here. It is a hobby of mine to have an exact knowledge of London. There's the Mortimer's, the tobacconist, the little newspaper shop, the Coburg branch of City and Suburban Bank, the Vegetarian Restaurant, and McFarlane's carriage-building depot. That carries us right to the other block. And now doctor, we have done our work, so it is time we had some play. A sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then off to violin land.
My friend was an enthusiastic musician, a performer and a composer of no ordinary merit. When he was not in the world of crime, he was in the world of music. I think he draws energy from the world of music to chase criminal.
"You want to go home doctor, no doubt," he remarked, as we emerged out of the coffee shop.
"Yes, it would be as well."
"And I have some business to do which will take some hours. This business at Coburg-Square is serious."
"Why serious?"
"A considerable crime is in contemplation. I have every reason to believe that we shall be in time to stop it. But today being Saturday rather complicates matters. I shall want your help tonight."
"At what time?"
" At ten will be early enough."
"I shall be at Baker street at ten."
"Very well. And, I say, doctor, there may be little danger, so kindly put your army revolver in your pocket." He waved his hand, turned on his heel, and disappeared in an instant among the crowd.
Here I had heard what Sherlock Holmes had heard, I had seen what he had seen, and yet from his words it was evident that he saw clearly not only what had happened, but what about to happen, while to me the whole business was still confused and grotesque. These were my thoughts when I drove home to my house in Kensington.
It was quarter past nine when I started from home and made my way accross the park, and so through Oxford Street to Baker Street. Two hansoms were standing at the door, and, as I entered at the passage I heard the sound of voices from above. On entering his room I found Holmes in animated conversation with two men, one of whom I recognised as Peter Jones, the official police agent, while the other was a long, thin, sad-faced man, with a very shiny hat and oppressively respectable frock-coat.
"Ha! Our party is complete," said Holmes, buttoning up his pea jacket, and taking his heavy hunting crop from the rack. "Watson, I think you know Mr Jones of Scotland Yard? Let me introduce you to Mr Merry weather, who is to be our companion in tonight's adventure."
"We are hunting in couples again, doctor, you see," said Jones in his consequential way. Our friend here is a wonderful man for starting a chase. All he wants is an old dog to help him to do the running down."
"I hope a wild goose may not prove to be the end of our chase," observed Mr Merryweather gloomily.
"You place confidence in Mr Holmes, sir," said the police agent, loftily. "He has his own methods, which are, if he won't mind my saying so, just a little too theoretical and fantastic, but he had the making of a detective in him.
He had proved it in Sholto murder and Agra treasure, he had been more nearly correct than the official force."
"Oh, if you so say Mr Jones, it is all right," said the stranger, with deference. Still, I confess that I miss my rubber. [4] It is the first Saturday night for seven and twenty years that I have not had my rubber."
"I think you will find," said Sherlock Holmes, that you will play for higher stake to-night, than you have ever done yet, and that the play will be exciting. For you, Mr Merryweather, the stake will be some 30000 pounds; and for you Jones, it will be the man upon whom you wish to lay your hands."
"John Clay, the murderer, thief, smasher, and forger. He's a young man Mr Merryweather, but he is at the head of his profession, and I would rather have my bracelets on him than on any criminal in London. He is a remarkable man, this John Clay. His grandfather was a Duke, and he himself has been to Eton and Oxford. His brain is as cunning as his fingers, and though we meet signs of him at every turn, we never know where to find him. He will crack a crib in Scotland one week, and be raising money to build an orphanage in Cornwall the next. I have been on his track for years, and I have never set eyes on him yet."
"I hope that I may have the pleasure of introducing you tonight. I have had one or two little turns also with Mr John Clay, and I agree with you he is at the head of his profession. It is past ten, however, and quite time that we started. If you two will take the first hansom, Watson and I will follow in the second."
Sherlock Holmes was not very communicative during the long drive, and lay back in cab humming tunes which he heard in the afternoon. We rattled through an endless labyrinth of gas-lit streets until we emerged into Farringdon Street.
"We are close there now," my friend remarked. This fellow Merryweather is a bank director and personally interested in the matter. I thought it was well to have Jones also with us. He is not a bad fellow, though an absolute imbecile in his profession. He has one virtue. He is as brave as a bulldog, and as tenacious as a lobster if he gets his claws upon anyone. Here we are, and they are waiting for us."
We had reached the same crowded thoroughfare in which we had found ourselves in the morning. Our cabs were dismissed, and, following the guidence of Mr Merryweather, we passed down a narrow passage, and through a side door, which he opened for us. Within there was a small corridor which ended in a very massive iron gate. This also was opened, and led down a flight of winding door steps, which terminated at another formidable gate. Mr Merryweather stoped to light a lantern, and then conducted us down a dark earth smelling passage, and so, after opening a third door, into a huge vault or cellar, which was piled all round with crates and massive boxes.
"You are not very vulnerable from above," remarked Holmes, as he held up the lantern and gazed about him.
"Nor from below," said Mr Merryweather, striking his sticks upon the flags which lined the floor. "Why, dear me, it sounds quite hollow!" he remarked, looking up in surprise.
"I must really ask you to be a little more quiet," said Holmes severely. "You have already imperilled the whole success of our expedition. Might I beg that you would have the goodness to sit down upon one of those boxes, and not to interfere?"
The solemn Mr Merryweather perched himself upon a crate, with a very injured expression upon his face, while Holmes fell upon his knees upon the floor, and with the lantern and magnifying lense, began to examine the cracks between the stones. A few seconds sufficed to satisfy him, for he sprang to his feet again and put his glass in his pocket.
"We have at least an hour before us," he remarked; for they can hardly take any steps until the good pawnbroker is safely in bed. Then they will not lose a minute, for the sooner they do their work the longer time they will have for their escape. We are at present, doctor -- as no doubt have divined -- in the cellar of the city branch of one of the principal banks of London. Mr Merryweather is the Chairman of the directors, and he will explain you that there are reasons why the more dating criminals of London should take a considerable interest in this cellar at present."
"It is our French gold," whispered the director. We have had several warnings that an attempt might be made upon it."
"Your French gold?"
"Yes, we had occasion some months ago to strengthen our resources, and borrowed, for that purpose, 30000 nepolians from Bank of France [5] It has become known that we have never had occasion to unpack the money, and that is still lying in our cellar. The crate upon which I sit contains 2000 Nepolians packed between layers of lead foils. Our reserve bullion is much larger at present than is usually kept in a single branch office, and the directors have had misgivings upon the subject."
"Which were very well justified," observed Holmes. "And now it is time that we arranged our little plans. I expect that within an hour matters will come to a head. In the meantime, Mr Merryweather, we must put dark screen over the lantern."
"And sit in the dark."
"I am afraid so. I have brought a pack of cards in my pocket, and I thought that we were a partie carree [6] you must have your rubber after all. But I see that enemy's preparations have gone so far we cannot risk the presence of light. And, first of all, we must choose our positions. These are daring men, and though we shall take them at a disadvantage, they may do us some harm unless we are careful. I shall stand behind this crate, and do you conceal yourselves behind those. Then, when I flash a light upon them, close in swiftly. If they fire, Watson, have no compunction about shooting them down."
I placed my revolver, cocked, upon the top of the wooden case, behind which I crouched. Holmes shot the slide across the front of his lantern, and left us in pitch darkness -- such an absolute darkness as I have never before experienced. The smell of hot metal remained to assure us that the light was still there, ready to flash out at a moment's notice. To me, with my nerves worked up to a pitch of expectancy, there was something depressing and subduing in the sudden gloom, and in the cold, dark air of the vault.
"They have but one retreat," whispered Holmes, that is back through the house into Saxe-Coburg Square. I hope, you have done what I asked you Jones."
"I have an inspector and two officers waiting at the front door."
"Then we have stopped all the holes. And now we must be silent and wait."
What a time it seemed! From comparing notes afterwards, it was but an hour and a quarter, yet it appeared to me that the night must have almost gone, and the dawn be breaking above us. My limbs were weary and stiff, for I feared to change my position; yet my nerves were worked up to the highest pitch of tension, and my hearing was so acute that I could not only hear the gentle breathing of my companions, but I could distinguish the deeper, heavier in-breath of the bulky Jones from the thin, sighing note of the bank director. From my position I could look over the case in the direction of the floor. Suddenly my eyes caught the glint of a light.
At first it was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement. Then it lengthened out, until it became a yellow line, and then, without any warning or sound, a gash seemed to open and a hand appeared; a white, almost womanly hand, which felt about the centre of the little area of light. For a minute or more the hand, with its writhing fingers protruded out of the floor. Then it was withdrawn as suddenly as it appeared, and all was dark again save the single lurid spark which marked a chink between stones.
Its disappearance, however, was but momentary, with a rending, tearing sound, one of the broad, white stones turned over upon its side, and left a square, gaping hole through which streamed the light of a lantern. Over the edge there peeped a clean-cut boyish face, which looked keenly about it, and then, with a hand on either side of the aperture, drew itself shoulder high and waist high, until one knee rested upon the edge. In another instant he stood at the side of the hole, and was hauling after him a companion, little and small like himself, with a pale face and a shock of very red hair.
"It's all clear," he whispered, "have you the chisel and the bags. Great Scott! Jump, Archie, jump, and I'll swing for it."
Sherlock Holmes had sprung out and seized the intruder by the collar. The other dived down the hole, and I heard the sound of rending cloth as Jones clutched at his skirts. The light flashed upon the barrel of a revolver, but Holmes hunting crop came came down on the man's wrist, and the pistol clinked upon the stone floor.
"It's no use, John Clay, said Holmes, blandly. "You have no chance at all."
"So I see," the other answered, with utmost coolness. "I fancy that my pal is alright, though I see you have got his coat-tails."
"There are three men waiting for him at the door," said Holmes.
"Oh, indeed! You seem to have done the thing very completely. I must compliment you."
"And I you," said Holmes, "your red-headed idea was very new and effective."
"You will see your pal very soon," said Jones. "He is quicker at climbing down holes than I am. Just hold out while I fix the derbies."
"I beg that you will not touch me with your filthy hands," said the prisoner, as the hand cuffs clattered upon his wrists. "You may not be aware that I have royal blood in my veins. Have the goodness also, when you address me always to 'sir' or 'please.'"
"All right," said Jones with a state and a snigger. "Well, would you please, sir, march upstairs, where we can get a cab to carry your highness to police station?"
"That is better," said John Clay, serenely. He made a sweeping bow to three of us, and walked quietly off in the custody of the detective.
"Really, Mr Holmes," said Mr Merryweather, as we followed them from the cellar, "I do not know how the bank can thank you or repay you. There is no doubt that you have detected and defeated in the most complete manner one of the most determined attempts at bank robbery that have ever come within my experience."
"I have had one or two little scores of my own to settle with Mr John Clay," said Holmes. "I have been at some small expense over this matter, which I expect the bank to refund, but beyond that I am fully repaid by having had an experience which is in many ways unique, and by hearing the very remarkable narrative of the Red-headed League."
As we sat over a glass of whisky-and- soda, in the early hours of morning in Baker Street, Mr Sherlock Holmes narrated me how he arrived at his conclusions as to the attempt at bank robbery.
The whole idea begins with the advertisement of Jabez Wilson, seeking an assistant. The proximity of Saxe Coburg Square to Coburg branch of City & Suburban Bank lured John Clay. His accomplice, Vincent Spaulding aka Archie attends the interview and gets the vacancy at half the normal wages. Then he brings the pension scheme of Red-headed League, lured him to the hoax interview and trapped him with the offer of four pound a week offer. When the tunnel from the cellar of Jabez Wilson was dug out the dissolution of Red-headed League. John Clay did not expect Jabez Wilson to take the mystery to Sherlock Holmes.
____________________________________
[1]. Another short story by the author
[2]. Omne ignotum pro magnifico: A Latin term meaning everything unknown is magnificent. Jabez Wilson attributed Holmes ability to guess was something extraordinary. But the method was revealed he lost its charm.
[3]. Lebanon: A city in the county seat of Lebanon county Pennsylvania United States
[ 4 ]. A rubber game in bridge.
[5]. 20 franc gold coin formerly used in France. It bore the portrait of Nepolian I or Nepolian II.
[6]. Party of four persons
[*]. Pablo de Sarasate, was a Spanish violinist, composer, and conductor of Romantic period.
End of the Story
Comments