The story of how the gold stolen from the Brothers’ Mine was found spread like wildfire throughout the whole of Siberia. Sherlock Holmes’s name was passed from mouth to mouth, while tales of his exploits were so exaggerated that he became some sort of mythical hero. Often, he had to listen to the most incredible stories about himself, with which we were entertained on trains by fellow passengers who did not know our surnames. Holmes was terribly amused and entertained by such stories.
The following case occurred half a year after the withdrawal from Mukden, in north-east China, of troops who had participated in the Russo–Japanese War (1904–05). We were on our way to Harbin, also in north-east China, from where we intended to go to Vladivostok, Russia’s port on the Pacific Ocean, and then to return to European Russia via Khabarovsk, Blagoveschensk and Stretensk. This route would enable us to visit all the principal cities of Siberia.
On a grey September day our train stopped at Baikal station, named after the great Siberian lake on which it stood.
The stopover was a long one, so we got off at the station to have lunch, to taste the famous Baikal salmon, extolled by Siberian exiles.
We had eaten this fish and the ghastly soup that was on the menu, when a cavalry captain, and officer of gendarmes, sat down opposite us. He looked at Holmes, and his brows puckered as though he recalled something.
Sherlock Holmes also looked at him and suddenly smiled, ‘I think you and I recognize each other, Captain,’ he said, raising his cap. ‘I had the honour of seeing you half a year ago at the headquarters of the Moscow police. As far as I remember, you were summoned in connection with counterfeit gold five-rouble pieces!’
‘Quite so!’ said the officer and saluted. ‘It took me a while to recognize you, but now I do. Aren’t you Mr Sherlock Holmes?’
‘Yes!’
‘And this is your friend, Dr Watson.’
I bowed.
On the one hand, Sherlock Holmes wasn’t shy or withdrawn when he met someone. On the other, he didn’t like to draw public attention to himself, which would have happened if anyone had heard his name pronounced aloud. So he suggested we adjourn to a separate little table in a corner of the station buffet.
A waiter moved our food and cutlery and we took up our new places.
‘You’ve been transferred here from European Russia?’ asked Holmes.
‘Yes, four months ago,’ said the cavalry captain.
‘And if I am not mistaken, your surname is Zviagin.’
‘Absolutely right!’
‘And are you satisfied with your new appointment?’ asked Holmes.
‘Not particularly.’
‘Boring?’
‘Oh, no! The problem is that pilfering on the railroad, and especially on Siberian railways, is on such a monumental scale that not a single consignor can be assured his consignment is safe. I was assigned to investigate this phenomenon but, alas, I reckon with horror that I cannot cope with it.’
‘Really!’ Holmes gave an ironic little laugh.
‘There is so much pilfering and it is all so cleverly organized, I’m simply lost as to which one to investigate first and how!’
‘Have you any idea of the monetary scale of the pilfering, say in one month?’
‘Oh, yes!’
‘And, as a matter of interest—?’ asked Holmes.
‘Well, for example, take July. One hundred thousand roubles worth of state-owned consignments haven’t reached Manchuria and Harbin stations. Private cargoes worth seventy thousand never reached their destination.’
‘I say!’ exclaimed Holmes, taken considerably aback.
‘This may seem considerable to you foreigners,’ said Zviagin with a little laugh, ‘but in Russia, and especially here in Siberia, we are quite used to such sums.’
At this moment, another officer of gendarmes came up to Zviagin.
‘From whence?’ asked Captain Zviagin
The newcomer named one of the larger Siberian cities.
‘Passing through?’ asked Zviagin.
‘Yes, I took some leave to get about a little.’
They exchanged a few words and the newcomer left.
‘There’s a lucky fellow,’ sighed Zviagin.
‘Who is he?’ asked Holmes.
‘Security Chief for his city. A year younger than me, a mere twelve years on the job, gets a salary of six thousand a year, plus another thirty thousand expenses for which he doesn’t have to account.’
‘What!’ Holmes asked in total shock. ‘Thirty thousand a year for which he doesn’t have to account!’
‘Yes!’
‘For what purpose?’
‘Finding spies, etcetera.’
‘Dammit, my dear Watson,’ exclaimed Holmes, absolutely stunned. ‘What would our Parliament have to say if presented with this sort of thing!’
He turned to Zviagin again and asked, ‘Can one security department in a provincial town spend that on political investigation?’
‘Some have more,’ said Zviagin coolly.
‘I’ve never heard of any such thing,’ said Holmes, now thoroughly embarrassed. ‘One would think half your population are political offenders. But … if that’s so, the term loses its meaning.’
‘Not entirely,’ Zviagin answered with a smile. ‘In any case, talking to a foreigner about this is a waste of time. You do things your way and we do things our way.’ He gave another deep sigh and lit a cigarette.
A subordinate appeared. ‘Your Excellency, the freight car arrived at the next station with half its cargo missing again,’ he reported. ‘Mitayeff is just back from there.’
Zviagin swore, ‘See for yourself. You take up one case and at the same time you are presented with a second … and a fifth … and a tenth.’
He looked at Sherlock Holmes in despair. ‘I’d give half my life for your assistance,’ he exclaimed and gave the famous detective a beseeching look.
The idea seemed to have lodged itself in his head and he began to beg Sherlock Holmes and me to stay for a while to put an end to these dreadful goings-on. ‘You can demand any payment,’ he exclaimed.
‘But we’re here only as tourists,’ countered Holmes.
‘That’s wonderful! I’ll show you the whole of the Baikal, the forests and bush land of the Varguzinsk taiga, and the penal servitude settlements. You’ll see much that’s interesting, things that you could never see otherwise when you travel by train. And what is more, we’ll split the reward half and half.’
Holmes turned to me, ‘Wouldn’t you say it’s worth thinking about, my dear Watson. What do you think?’
‘It’s certainly a very tempting offer,’ I answered.
‘But, of course, do stay on,’ Zviagin kept on insistently, encouraged by what my friend had said.
Holmes was considering something.
‘Well,’ the cavalry captain urged him.
‘It’s settled! I’m staying,’ answered Holmes.
‘Bravo!’ Zviagin exclaimed happily. ‘Hey there, waiter, let’s have a bottle of champagne and call a porter!’
Our luggage and other things were transferred out of our compartment and placed in the station waiting area, while we went back to our table on which champagne already foamed in tall flutes.
