Mrs Fordeland if she knew of Miss Wortley-Swan. Do you think that she answered truthfully?’
I thought back to the look of perplexity which had crossed the lady’s face when the name was
mentioned to her. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I am sure that she had never heard the name.’
He nodded. ‘So am I, Watson, and that only adds to the singularity of the case.’
Mycroft’s documents did not arrive during the remainder of the day, and I feared that Holmes might react with frustration to the delay, but I was wrong. It was a part of his remarkable structure of mind that, if unable to see a way ahead in an enquiry, he would rage with impatience and vent his feelings in a number of ways, including bizarre noises upon his violin which belied his love of music and his genuine skills and, in the past, recourse to cocaine.
On this occasion, however, having determined on a plan of action, he ate a hearty dinner and was an amiable companion throughout the evening, his conversation spreading as usual across a wide range of fascinating topics, every one of which he addressed as though he had made a special study of the subject.
There was no word from Mycroft on the following morning, but still Holmes seemed unruffled by the delay. It was not until after our luncheon that he pulled out his watch and remarked that we should be about our business if we were going to Sussex.
It was mid-afternoon when a stopping train from Victoria deposited us at the foot of the Sussex Downs, and a dog cart from the little station soon took us into Burriwell.
‘You are not,’ I said, as we drew up before a handsome villa set back from the road in spacious gardens,
‘approaching her in disguise?’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘My elderly clergyman learned as much as he might reasonably expect from the villagers. I have learned the effect of my profession and my reputation upon those who are concealing something, Watson. It seems to me that I should try it upon Miss Wortley-Swan.’
‘You believe that the lady is concealing something?’ I asked.
‘I hope so, sincerely, Watson.’
The front doorbell was answered promptly by a plainly dressed maid, who showed us into a pleasant, sunny drawing room and took Holmes’ card to her mistress. We were soon joined by the lady herself.
I do not believe that I ever had the pleasure of being introduced to her when she was the toast of England’s young men, but I recall the engravings of her which appeared in the illustrated papers and the postcards of her which were sold in print shops. They showed her to be a tall woman of strong but delicate features with a head of golden hair. She wore a plain dress of light grey with very little jewellery. Now I saw that, though time had prematurely whitened her hair and she scorned to colour it artificially, she was still an upright and handsome figure.
When we had introduced ourselves she sent her maid for tea and waved us to chairs.
‘No one,’ she said, ‘can be unaware of your profession and your reputation, Mr Holmes,’ unconsciously echoing my friend’s own words. ‘Nevertheless, I find it impossible to see what enquiry has led you to my door.’
Holmes smiled. ‘A great deal of the work which I do,’ he said, ‘consists in eliminating matters and people which have nothing to do with the focus of my enquiry. It may well be that this is such a matter.
I am concerned in an enquiry on behalf of a lady visiting England for the Jubilee celebrations. In order to solve a matter which occasions her disquiet and maybe threatens her, it is necessary for me to identify a pair of people about whom I know nothing except that they are Russians and presently live within reasonable travelling distance of London.’
Miss Wortley-Swan laughed, a deep, musical sound. ‘And you believe that my Gregori and his sister may be the ones you seek? I fear that you have wasted your journey, gentlemen.’
‘Not if our visit serves to eliminate someone,’ said Holmes, imperturbably. ‘This Gregori is, then, a member of your household?’
The tea was served and we awaited an answer until it had been poured.
‘Let me explain,’ said our hostess. ‘Since the brutal murder which robbed me of my intended husband, I have applied myself in efforts to improve the lot of those foreign refugees who, often through no fault of their own, find themselves taking refuge in this country. Many of them have no funds, sometimes no trade by which they may support themselves, and often they speak little or no English. I attempt to relieve those conditions and help them to become useful members of our society, helping themselves and our nation. It is difficult but rewarding work.’
She sipped her tea. ‘You may imagine, Mr Holmes, that language is often a problem for me. I have learned a little Russian, but it is a very little and often not of the kind spoken by those I seek to aid.
When I came across Gregori Gregorieff and his sister my problem was solved. Both of them are skilled linguists, not only in Russian but in other tongues, and to have their skills available to me has been a blessing. For that reason I have placed them on a small salary and removed them from a rather insalubrious lodging in Stepney to my own home, where they are readily available to me.’
She glanced at the mantelpiece clock. ‘I expect that Gregori and his sister will be here at any moment.
They were due to return by the train which, I suspect, brought you, but they will have walked from the railway station.’
She had barely spoken the words when we heard the sound of footsteps on the gravelled approach and the front door was opened and closed. There was a quiet murmur of voices in the hall, then the sound of someone ascending the stairs.
Miss Wortley-Swan stepped to the drawing-room door and called into the hall, ‘Gregori, there are two gentlemen here who would be interested to meet you. Would you step in for a moment?’
She returned, followed by her Russian interpreter. Holmes’ deductions had led me to expect the stocky and full-bearded man who appeared in Mrs Fordeland’s sketch, perhaps unusually dressed. I was, therefore, taken completely by surprise.
The man who followed Miss Wortley-Swan into her drawing room was a short, not particularly stocky, man with only a small goatee beard. He wore pince-nez spectacles, secured by a black ribbon, and a cream linen jacket with grey flannels. In his left hand he held a narrow-brimmed straw hat.
‘I am sorry,’ he said to Miss Wortley-Swan, ‘but Anna has developed a headache while upon the train.
She has gone directly to her room. Did you wish to see both of us?’
‘I shouldn’t think that we need to bother her. Let me introduce my visitors, Gregori. They are Mr Sherlock Holmes, the well-known consulting detective, and his colleague, Dr Watson.’
I saw the quick flash of nervousness in the Russian’s eyes before he composed his face in a smile and advanced to shake our hands. Once we were all seated, our hostess served tea to her interpreter and smiled around at us.
‘I have been able,’ she said, ‘to convince Gregori of the virtues of the English cup of tea, as opposed to the strange brews that they serve in Russia, but I have never been able to woo him away from his devotion to strong Russian cigarettes. If you gentlemen would care to smoke, please feel free to do so.’
Immediately the Russian pulled out an ornate silver cigarette case and offered it. ‘I am sorry,’ he explained, ‘that these are home-made. It is so difficult here in London to obtain a good Russian cigarette.’
Holmes rolled the cigarette between his long fingers, then sniffed at it. ‘A strong Georgian and a Turkish blended,’ he suggested, and the Russian smiled agreement.
‘I see that you know your tobaccos, Mr Holmes. Tell me, into what are you enquiring at present?’
‘I am seeking,’ said Holmes, ‘two persons, a man and a woman. I have descriptions of them and I am certain that they are Russian. So far I have been unsuccessful in my attempts to locate them. It was the knowledge that Miss Wortley-Swan had two Russian guests that prompted my enquiry, nothing more.’
The Russian glanced at his hostess, as though for approval. ‘Miss Wortley-Swan will have told you that she employs me and my sister to help with her generous efforts among our fellow countrymen in London. Apart from assisting Miss Wortley-Swan, we have no other occupation. Both of us are anxious to make our home here in England now and we would certainly not do anything to cause concern to your excellent police force.’
I found his statement a little too glib, but Holmes appeared to have taken it at face value. He nodded and said, ‘I am not, of course, a part of the official police. I am a consulting detective employed in the interests of a private citizen who has some concerns about the behaviour of this Russian pair. Tell me if you will, Mr Gegorieff, what caused you to leave Russia?’
