The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures

indeed, one of those new style Ulsters, sir.'

'I believe the colonel then came around from the wash room, into the cloak room, in order to hand you back the coat?' 'That is exactly what he did, sir.'

I turned and smiled at the astonished company, perhaps a little too superior in my attitude.

'How the hell did you know that?' growled the chairman. 'Now, my man,' I said, ignoring him, but speaking again to

the attendant. 'Would you fetch Colonel Moran's Ulster?' The attendant turned, picked down the garment and handed

it to me in silence.

I took it and weighed it carefully with one hand before reaching into the inside lining. There were several large pockets there as was the fashion with such garments. The leather box was tucked neatly into one of them.

'How did you know?' gasped Cloncury seizing his precious box eagerly.

'Know? I merely deduce from facts, sir. If you will open the box and check the brush? I think you may find that in the brush are some strands of dark black hair. The colour of Colonel Moran's hair, which is easy to spot as it is dyed.'

It took the duke but a moment to confirm that I was right.

'I think the colonel is someone given to seizing opportunity. A chance taker,' I told them. 'He followed His Grace into the wash room when His Grace had already entered the toilet. He saw the leather case there. He knew it had great sentimental value for His Grace. Perhaps he thought he might be able to blackmail Cloncury for its return, probably through an intermediary of course. He seized the opportunity, asking for his Ulster to be passed through the hatch in order to conceal the box in order to get it out of the club. He chanced that members would not be searched…'

'It would be unthinkable that a member of this club would be searched,' muttered the chairman. 'We are all gentlemen here!' I chose not to comment.

'He could not carry the box out of the wash room into the cloak room without observation. When I saw the hatch I knew that he had only to ask for his coat to be passed through, place the box in his pocket unobserved, and the theft was complete.'

'How did you know it was an Ulster or a riding cloak?' demanded his grace.

'He would have to be possessed of a heavy coat such as an Ulster or riding cloak with large enough interior pockets to conceal the box in.'

'Why not pass the coat back through the hatch once he had hidden the box in the coat?' demanded Mycroft. 'Why do you think that he came out of the wash room door, into the hall and then into the cloak room to return the cloak to the attendant?'

'Moran was cautious. Passing it back through the hatch might cause the attendant to feel the box and become suspicious, especially after Cloncury raised the alarm. So he carried it round and handed it to the attendant holding it upright by the collar. The extra weight would not be noticed. Is that correct?' The attendant nodded confirmation.

'What made you think there would be hairs on the brush and that they would be his?' queried His Grace, staring dubiously at the black dyed hairs which were entangled on his silver-backed brush.

'Because Moran is a vain man and could not resist cocking a snoot at you, Your Grace, by brushing his own hair while you were within feet of him. It fits in with Moran's character, a demonstration of his nerve for any moment you might have opened the door and discovered him. Chance is his adrenaline.'

'Holmes, this is amazing!' gasped Cloncury.

'It was anotherTrinity man who alerted me to the importance of careful observation,' I informed him. 'Jonathan Swift. He wrote that a stander-by may sometimes see more of the game than he who plays it.' I could not resist turning to Mycroft and adding, sotto voce, 'And Trinity almost refused to give Swift a degree because they thought he was too lazy and undisciplined!'

The chairman of the club signalled the uniformed club doorman and his assistant. They looked ex-military men.

'You will find Colonel Moran in the dining room,' he instructed. 'Ask him to join us immediately. If he will not comply, you have my permission to escort him here with as much force as you have cause to use.'

The two men went off briskly about their task.

A moment later the colonel, whose appearance suggested that he had polished off the rest of the wine, was firmly propelled into our presence.

His red-rimmed eyes fell on his Ulster and on Cloncury holding his precious leather case. The man's face went white in spite of the alcoholic infused cheeks.

'By Gad, sir, you should be horsewhipped!' growled the Duke of Cloncury and Straffan menacingly.

'This is a fabrication!' bluffed Moran feebly. 'Someone put the box in my inside coat pocket.'

I could not forbear a grin of triumph.

'How did you know that it was the box which had been stolen? And how did you know it was found in your inside coat pocket, colonel?'

Moran knew the game was up.

'Moran,' the chairman said heavily, 'I shall try to persuade His Grace not to bring charges against you for the sake of the reputation of this club. If he agrees, it will be on the condition that you leave Ireland within the next twelve hours and never return. I will circulate your name in society so that no house will open its doors to you again. I will have you black-balled in every club in the land.'

The Duke of Cloncury and Straffan gave the matter a moment's thought and then agreed to the conditions.

'I'd horsewhip the beggar, if it were me. Anyway. I think we all owe young Mister Sherlock Holmes our thanks in resolving this matter.'

Moran glowered at me.

'So you tipped them off, you young interfering…' He made a sudden aggressive lunge at me.

Mycroft inserted his large frame between me and Moran. His fist impacted on the colonel's nose and Moran went sprawling back only to be neatly caught by the doorman and his assistant.

'Kindly escort Colonel Moran off the premises, gentlemen,' ordered the chairman, 'and you do not have to be gentle.'

Moran twisted in their gasp to look back at me with little option but to control his foul temper.

'I have your measure, Sherlock Holmes,' he glowered, seething with an inner rage, as they began to propel him towards the door. 'You have not heard the last of me.'

It was as Mycroft was sharing a cab in the direction of my rooms in Lower Baggott Street that he frowned and posed the question:

'But I cannot see how you could have identified Moran as the culprit in the first place?'

'It was elementary, Mycroft,' I smiled. 'When we left the luncheon room and passed behind Moran's chair, I saw that the colonel had dandruff on his shoulders. Now he had jet-black hair. But with the dandruff lay a number of silver strands. It meant nothing to me at the time for I was not aware of the facts. When I discovered that the missing case contained a hairbrush and comb, everything fell into place. The duke not only had silver hair but, I noticed, he also had dandruff to boot. By brushing his hair in such a foolhardy gesture, Moran had transferred the dandruff and silver hair to his own shoulders. It was easy to witness that Moran was a vain man. He would not have allowed dandruff and hair, if it had been his, to lay on his shoulders when he entered a public dining room. Indeed, I saw him rise from his table and go out, brushing himself as he did so. The sign of a fastidious man. He had, therefore, unknowingly picked it up during his short absence. Everything else was a matter of simple deduction.'

As Moran had been thrown out of the Kildare Street Club, he had called out to me that I had not heard the last of him. Indeed, I had not. But I could not have conceived of how our paths would meet at that time nor of the sinister role Moran's friend, Professor Moriarty, would play in my life. While Moriarty became my most implacable foe, Colonel Sebastian Moran was certainly the second most dangerous man that I ever had to deal with.