The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures (76 page)

“I speak Bulgarian myself, Mr Holmes,” replied the Pasha, with an expression of mild astonishment on his face.

“Good, then perhaps you would be good enough to tell me whether this English sentence is a correct translation of the Bulgarian sentence above it.” He handed our host a small piece of paper. The Pasha took it and I was disturbed to see the old man start violently.

“What is the meaning of this, Mr Holmes,” said the Pasha, “What are you telling me?”

“I am telling you that this case is much more complicated than we thought at the outset. I take it the translation is accurate?”

“It is accurate, Mr Holmes,” said the Pasha, shaking his head in puzzlement and disbelief.

On our way back to Baker Street, Holmes stopped at a post office to send a telegram. He then went to pay a visit to his brother Mycroft at the Diogenes Club and I made my way to Baker Street alone. When he finally arrived, Holmes walked over to the mantelpiece and, to my horror, he stood contemplating the syringe that enabled him to indulge his only weakness.

“Holmes, my dear fellow,” I said, “you have arrived at your final conclusion in this case.”

“Yes, Watson, I have arrived at my final conclusion.” We had a quiet dinner, as usual prepared by the excellent Mrs Hudson. After the meal, Holmes stood up. “Tomorrow morning we will go Stoke Morden to save the world,” he said. “Better have an early night, Watson.” He disappeared into his bedroom, while I went to mine in a sombre mood.

Holmes was quite himself again the following morning. We had breakfast and were soon on our way to Victoria Station. When we eventually arrived at Royston Manor, I noticed that a number of fine carriages drawn by magnificent horses were moving off the broad gravel pathway that led to the house. We were admitted by the old butler and were shown into the drawing room, where, to my astonishment, I found that all the
dramatis personae
of the recent tragedy were present. Lord Eversden was seated in his armchair, with Orman Pasha on the settee beside him. Baron Nopchka sat at the other end of the settee, while Mr Leonticles and Colonel Yusufoglu were sitting on armchairs opposite the settee. Count Balinsky, as though disdaining the company of others, sat somewhat apart, near the window. Mycroft Holmes was sitting on an upright chair in front of a table behind the settee.

As we entered, Lord Eversden rose and came across to greet us.

“I received your telegram, Mr Holmes,” he said. “As you can see, they are all here. Inspector Lestrade will be arriving in about one hour’s time.” He motioned us to sit down, which I did on an upright chair near Baron Nopchka. Holmes declined the invitation and remained standing.

“My lords and gentlemen,” began Holmes, “I am happy to be able to report that I have unravelled the mystery that has recently cast a shadow over international relations. Regrettably, it is unlikely that we will be able to bring the culprit to justice, since we are dealing with a very clever criminal. My investigations allow me to conclude that an armed burgler managed to gain entry to the house. He made his way stealthily upstairs, where he was surprised by Mr Anton Simeonov. Before Mr Simeonov was able to raise the alarm, the burglar drew his revolver and shot him, just as the victim was about to defend himself by drawing out his own weapon. The murderer was then able to conceal himself behind the large armchair in the corridor and stayed there when you all arrived at the scene. When you all left the corridor, he made his escape through one of the windows, through which he jumped. He then cleverly concealed his tracks and made off. It is highly unlikely that he will ever be apprehended.”

We all stared at Holmes. Lord Eversden said: “But this is not credible, Mr Holmes. There is nothing to suggest that such a thing happened.” He turned a troubled look to Mycroft, who, alone in the gathered audience, was nodding, with an amused smile of understanding on his face.

Count Balinsky snorted derisively: “Do you think my Government will accept such a story, such a transparent fabrication?” He rose to his feet. “Excuse me, Lord Eversden, but I am obliged to telegraph the Czar’s cabinet.” He took a step or two across the room, with a smile of malicious satisfaction on his face, when Holmes took a long stride and barred his way.

“My dear Count,” he said severely, “I strongly advise you to sit down. The story I have given you may be preferable to your Government – and to you – than the alternative I am able to offer.” The Count glared at Holmes, but slowly his expression changed to one of hunted suspicion. Holmes returned to the spot at which he had been standing, while the Count remained standing for a few moments. The whole room was tense. Slowly, the Count resumed his seat.

“The difficulty with this case was the absence of a motive, other than the obvious one in the case of an assassination by agents of the Turkish Government,” said Holmes. “The foolishness of such an undertaking, especially under the present political atmosphere, suggested that murder by a Turkish agent was extremely unlikely. Such a crime could not possibly have served the aims of the Turkish Government – in fact, quite the reverse – so I dismissed it as a real possibility from the outset. However, this does not mean that the murder could not have been committed by a Turkish person for non-political reasons. This, too, seemed unlikely, since such a person committing such a crime would be perfectly aware of the political interpretation that some people would put upon it.

“Therefore, my working hypothesis was that the crime was not committed by either of the Turkish guests. Orman Pasha, in any case, was not under suspicion, since he was with Lord Eversden at the time. But Colonel Yusufoglu was found kneeling beside Simeonov and Count Balinsky accused him of the murder. On the other hand, the colonel appeared to be unarmed but, had he been the murderer, he would not have had time to dispose of the weapon, unless he shot Simeonov, rushed away to dispose of the weapon and then, perversely, returned to place himself in the incriminating position of kneeling beside the man he had shot.

“The other confusing aspect of this case is that I had started with the assumption that Simeonov’s murderer and the man who assaulted him some weeks ago were one and the same. At least, it seemed reasonable to assume that the two events were related. My investigations revealed to me that they were not and
that
was the clue that solved the mystery.”

Holmes turned to Lord Eversden. “Someone in this room killed Simeonov, but he is no murderer. The only murderer among your guests was Simeonov himself!”

Except for Mycroft, we all gasped with astonishment. Count Balinsky sat forward in his chair and his expression looked more hunted than ever. Leonticles looked paler than usual. Colonel Yusufoglu covered his face with his hands.

“Yes,” said Holmes, looking in turn at the Greek Consul, the Turkish Colonel and the Russian Count. “You know the truth of this. When Colonel Yusufoglu said that Count Balinsky knew the truth, he was speaking the truth, was he not Count?”

“You dare to accuse a member of the Czar’s Government of killing –” he began, rising to his feet.

“Control yourself, Count,” said Holmes, harshly. “No one has accused you of killing Simeonov. Your crime is far more diabolical.” The Count opened his mouth to reply, but all eyes turned towards him, and no sound came from his throat. He sat down, his face working.

“When the colonel said that Count Balinsky knew the truth, he meant that he knew that Simeonov was a murderer. Count Balinsky understood this very well, but preferred to pretend he did not, for reasons that will become clear presently. In fact, Simeonov was shot as he was about to commit another murder. His intended victim was ready for him and the tables were turned. The revolver lying on the ground was the one with which Simeonov intended to commit murder, not one that he drew out to defend himself.

“When I examined Simeonov’s belongings, I discovered a small box containing what appeared to be greeting cards. So they were – of a kind. I hope I will be forgiven for distracting attention by pretending to see something through the window, but it was necessary for me to extract them without being seen to do so. Each card had the letters vmro on it.” Holmes drew one out of his pocket and held it up. The letters were very large and were easily visible across the room. Holmes turned to Count Balinsky: “You recognize these symbols of the notorious Balkan anarchist organization with no name, do you not, Count? I imagine everyone else in this room does as well. However, only three people here present knew about Simeonov’s murderous past and of his membership of that organization. When Watson and I broke into Simeonov’s house, I discovered three other cards, each with the letters IMRO printed on it. Imro is a rival anarchist organization, bitterly opposed to the first. One card had the following written on it in Bulgarian: “Death is near. You have been warned.” My translation was kindly confirmed by Orman Pasha when I showed it to him yesterday. The card also bore the December date on which Simeonov was assaulted in the street. His would-be assassin on that occasion was a member of the opposing criminal group.

“Understanding this helped me to understand the rest. Baron Nopchka overheard Mr Leonticles urging Colonel Yusufoglu to act, but the colonel was urging restraint. The Baron was worried by this because he thought that Mr Leonticles may have been referring to a planned murder of Simeonov, but he was wrong. Mr Leonticles wished to expose Simeonov for the criminal he was, whereas the colonel was probably urging Mr Leonticles to wait until they were at a meeting in London, where the building would be guarded by policemen, making it difficult for Simeonov to escape once he was identified. Count Balinsky barged noisily into the room while the colonel was speaking, but it is my belief that he had overheard enough of the conversation to understand its significance. He then told Simeonov what he had heard and Simeonov determined to take matters into his own hands.

“It was Mr Leonticles who recognized Simeonov. He was in Thessaly when Colonel Yusufoglu was serving there as the Governor’s Deputy and they were both involved in quelling the riots instigated by vmro. As soon as he recognized Simeonov as one of the criminals who were condemned to death, but later escaped, he told Colonel Yusufoglu.

“We come now to the question of why Count Balinsky told Simeonov of Mr Leonticles’ recognition of him. The Count is, as we all know, determined to start another Russo-Turkish war, from which he believes Russia would benefit. The Count was well aware that, if he told Simeonov that Leonticles knew of his past, Simeonov would try to silence him. If a Greek is murdered during this meeting, suspicion would immediately fall upon the Turks. If Simeonov was killed, suspicion would still fall upon the Turks. Either way, he could use the event as an excuse to forment trouble and urge the Czar to declare war against the Sultan. His plan could not fail. He waited downstairs outside the library so that he would be able to rush upstairs when someone else appeared – in the event it was Baron Nopchka – in order to ensure himself an alibi.”

“Mr Leonticles was armed with a revolver, when he heard Simeonov creeping up behind him. He shot him first and ran to the other end of the corridor to hide the weapon temporarily behind the large armchair in the corner. I have no doubt that he disposed of it efficiently later. The colonel heard the shot and rushed out of his room; he may have seen Mr Leonticles hiding the weapon, but he then went to the dying man, perhaps to hear what he had to say. When I interviewed the colonel yesterday he as good as told me that he knew Mr Leonticles killed Simeonov. I asked him whether he knew who murdered Simeonov and he did not say ‘No’, but replied: ‘I did not witness the killing, how can I know who killed him?” His avoidance of the word ‘murder’ was also revealing.”

Holmes turned to George Leonticles, the Greek Consul. “Have I given a passable account?” he asked.

The Consul remained silent, with a strained face, for a few moments. “Yes, Mr Holmes, you have. But you have not explained the meaning of the dying man’s last words, although I am sure you understand that, too.”

Yes,” said Holmes, “I understand the meaning of his last words. A dying man fighting for breath cannot easily say a word of many syllables. The capital of Thessaly is Salonika and the riots there became known as the Salonika Incident. I think Simeonov recognized Colonel Yusufoglu as he was dying and was trying to tell him that he remembered him from the days of the Salonika Incident.”

A heavy silence descended upon the room. Presently, Lord Eversden spoke, addressing the gathered company in general: “Tomorrow I will seek an audience with His Majesty the King, with the purpose of requesting His Majesty’s approval for a diplomatic deportation order to be prepared. I will also ask His Majesty to invite the Czar’s Government to appoint an Ambassador to the Court of St James, that post being currently vacant.” Count Balinsky sat perfectly still, although the fire still burnt in his eyes.

There was a soft knock on the door and the lugubrious butler entered. “My lord,” he said, “a person from Scotland Yard has just arrived. His name is Inspector Lestrade.”

“Thank you, Jenkins,” said Lord Eversden, “ask him to wait a few moments.” The butler withdrew, lugubriously.

Holmes looked at Lord Eversden. “I am now obliged to make my conclusions known to the police. Which account am I to give them?”

Lord Eversden turned to Orman Pasha, who shook his head and said: “It is abundantly clear that a burglar broke in.” He rose, came across the room and shook Holmes warmly by the hand. “Mr Holmes, thank you. What we owe you is beyond evaluation.”

Holmes and I returned to Baker Street in the evening. Holmes started ascending the stairs, but I went to have a few words with Mrs Hudson. When I joined Holmes upstairs, I found him sitting in his chair with an air of dejection and despondency about him. He was looking at the syringe on the mantelpiece.

“An interesting case, Watson. I wonder whether the world will ever come to its senses. This Balkan crisis nearly plunged the whole world into misery; I trust no such crisis will arise again in our lifetime.”