Russian emigres in London, which enables her to seek out a Russian confederate. Perhaps it was her intention to pursue the count in Russia, but now she is presented with an opportunity - he has returned to London. I have no doubt that she is preparing - in the very near future - to avenge the murder of her fiance.’
I had to agree with his analysis of the situation, but one point puzzled me.
‘But how did she come into contact with Professor Gregorieff?’ I asked. ‘There are so many refugees from the Tzar in London.’
‘So there are, Watson, and among their own kind they discuss the wrongs that have been done to them.
Gregori Gregorieff speaks at the Workingmen’s Club and is, it seems, well known in his community.
Old Goldstein knew that the professor had some connection with the count. Miss Wortley-Swan would not have had much difficulty in identifying a possible fellow conspirator, and what more natural than her employment of a skilled interpreter?’
I nodded. ‘So what are you going to do to prevent it? You are intending to prevent it, aren’t you?’
‘If I believed that any plot against the count would succeed, Watson, I might well be tempted to ignore what I know about the matter and let it proceed, but it will not. The killing, or attempted killing, of the Tzar’s cousin in Britain will lead Scotland Yard to employ every method to uncover the criminals. They have almost as many spies in the East End as Kyriloff, and it will not take them long to uncover Gregorieff and his lady employer. It must be prevented for their sake, but I confess that I do not know how.’
If I had hoped that the appearance of Colonel Wilmshaw would encourage my friend in his attempts to unravel the matter, I was to be disappointed. Faced with the problem which he had set out, he slumped in an armchair for much of the day, smoking continuously. In the evening he took his violin and began a series of harsh and discordant improvisations which drove me, fairly rapidly, to an early bed.
The following morning was similar to its predecessor, with Holmes breakfasting on toast alone, while answering my pleasantries with monosyllables or not at all. It was plain that he had failed to resolve the conundrum.
Mrs Hudson had cleared our table and we sat sipping tea when we heard some kind of disturbance below. Voices, one of which was our landlady’s, were being raised at the foot of our stairs. Mrs Hudson had long learned to maintain an admirably impassive response to both Holmes and the sometimes unusual characters who visited him, so that she rarely found it necessary to raise her voice.
‘It sounds,’ I observed, ‘as though Mrs Hudson has run into difficulties.’
Before Holmes could respond, we heard a short cry from Mrs Hudson, followed by heavy feet
pounding up the seventeen stairs which led to our door.
‘I hope,’ said Holmes, rising and taking a poker from the fireside, ‘that no lout has been stupid enough to do harm to our landlady,’ and he moved towards the door.
He had barely reached it and was stretching out his hand when the door was flung open from outside, to reveal the enormous figure of Nikolai Poliakoff, dishevelled and breathing heavily. An irate Mrs Hudson rapidly appeared behind him.
‘It is alright, Mrs Hudson,’ said Holmes. ‘This man is known to me.’
Our landlady made an expression of unspoken anger and withdrew. Holmes showed our visitor to the basket chair, which creaked loudly under the Russian’s great weight.
‘You would do well,’ remarked Holmes, ‘not to make an enemy of Mrs Hudson.’
‘I am sorry, Mr Holmes,’ panted the Russian, ‘but Gregori told me to bring you this as quickly as possible.’ He thrust an envelope into Holmes’ hand.
Quickly my friend tore open the envelope and examined the single sheet of paper which it held. As I watched I saw him transformed. The lethargy which had consumed him throughout the previous
evening and at our breakfast disappeared in an instant. His eyes flashed.
‘Watson,’ he commanded, ‘kindly ring for our boots and take your pistol!’
Turning to the large Russian he asked, ‘Are you coming with us, Mr Poliakoff?’
‘I cannot,’ said Poliakoff. ‘Gregori said that I was to bring you his message and then meet him at Miss Wortley-Swan’s house. I must go,’ and he suited action to word and was off.
Once we had dressed, I pocketed my Adams .450 and followed Holmes down the stairs. Although he had a look of grim determination on his face, I could tell that he welcomed the sudden call to action. As he leapt down the steps, two at a time, he called behind to me.
‘Come on, Watson! Come on! The game’s afoot!’
Twenty-Three
The Bear Snarls
We were fortunate in finding a growler rapidly, and were soon travelling at a spanking pace, though I had, as yet, no inkling of our destination.
‘What was the message that Poliakoff brought?’ I asked. Wordlessly Holmes slipped the letter from his pocket and passed it to me. It read:
Mr Holmes,
You were visited yesterday by Colonel Wilmshaw. My contact in the embassy tells me that
Kyriloff knows this. He is afraid that you and Mrs Fordeland are about to make trouble for the count and he proposes to seize the lady in order to prevent you. I dare do nothing, sir. You must help her.
G. Gregorieff
‘Great Heavens!’ I exclaimed. ‘Is it possible that he is right? Would this man Kyriloff attempt to kidnap an English lady in the heart of London?’
Holmes looked at me without an expression. ‘Watson,’ he said, ‘you persist in seeing London as the great city which is the heart of the world’s greatest Empire, and of course it is, but it is exactly for those reasons that it is the easiest place in the world to commit almost any variety of crime.’
‘I’m sure that you are right, Holmes, but to take the lady seems excessive, even for Kyriloff.’
‘Kyriloff,’ said Holmes, ‘knows no excess. If his dreadful masters required it of him, or if he believed that it would serve their purpose, he would not hesitate to kidnap Queen Victoria.
Scotland Yard suspects him of a large number of unsolved killings. I suspect him of more. Both of us believe that he is also responsible for a dozen or so disappearances, including that of the Honourable Hermione Anstruther.‘
‘Great Heavens!’ I repeated. ‘Then Mrs Fordeland is really in danger!’
‘In deadly danger, Watson. Pray that we are in time.’
Suddenly Holmes rapped on the roof of our cab with his stick. ‘Cabbie,’ he said. ‘A whole sovereign for you if you will drop us in front of the hotel, then take the left corner and await us by the gate of the first yard.’
‘Done, sir!’ acknowledged the driver, and in a moment we were jumping out of our conveyance at the foot of the hotel’s steps. Holmes cast a swift glance around, then pointed with his stick.
‘You see,’ he said, ‘those three young men loitering across the way. They are too well dressed for common street loiterers and in the wrong part of town. Those will be three of Kyriloff’s bandits, I’ll be bound. I hope that their presence means that their master has not made his move as yet.’
He strode up the steps and presented his card to the commissionaire. ‘Tell me,’ he asked the man, ‘have those young men been there long?’
‘About a quarter of an hour,’ said the man. ‘I thought they might be waiting for someone, but they haven’t made any enquiry.’
‘Has anyone asked after a guest?’ enquired Holmes.
‘There was a military-looking gent, sir, spoke a bit foreign. He asked after Mrs Fordeland. They told him at the desk as she was in the garden, but he didn’t leave no message.’
‘I am sure he would not,’ said Holmes. ‘Let me warn you, that the military gentleman and the young men across the street mean Mrs Fordeland no good. If they attempt to enter the hotel, do not hesitate to whistle for a constable,’ and he slipped a coin into the commissionaire’s white-gloved hand.
‘It seems we are in time,’ said Holmes as we entered the lobby. ‘Kyriloff will not risk a disturbance in the
