under Westminster?”
Mr. Small rose and took down some keys, smiling with superiority. “I will show you.”
It took but a few minutes for Mr. Bert Small-the man of the moment, as Gallagher cynically described him-to lead them from his office around the corner to Westminster Bridge. Here Mr. Small led them down a flight of steps to the Embankment to the base of the statue of Queen Boadicea, in her chariot with her two daughters. There was a small iron door here, which he unlocked, then suggested that they follow him.
A flight of iron steps led them into a tunnel. Mr. Small seemed to swell with pride, and he pointed out that it was situated just above the lower-level interceptory sewer that ran below the level of the Thames. They could see that it was built of brickwork but arched rather than circular and was about six feet high. It was designed, said Mr. Small, to carry cast-iron pipes with water and gas.
He took a lantern and shone it along the dark, forbidding way.
Gallagher was conscious of the river seeping through the brickwork, dripping down the walls on either side and, above all, he was aware of the smell, the putrid stench of the river and the echoing tunnel before them. Holmes began to sniff with a sigh of satisfaction.
Mr. Small pointed down the tunnel. “These tunnels run from here along the river as far as the Bank of England, Mr. Holmes. These are Sir Joseph Bazalgette’s tunnels, which he completed fifteen years ago,” he said proudly. “You have probably seen, gentlemen, that Sir Joseph died a few months ago. The tunnel system under London was his finest achievement and-“
Holmes was not interested in the eulogy of the civil engineer who had built the tunnels. “And are there other connections?”
“Altogether there are eleven and a half miles of these sorts of tunnels. They fan out through the city,” replied Mr. Small, blinking at being cut short.
“Do they connect with Soho Square and Gayfere Street?” Holmes demanded.
“There are none of these tunnels that would connect directly. You would have to go from Soho Square down to Shaftesbury Avenue to find an entrance and then you would have to exit here and walk to Gayfere Street.”
“Then that’s no good to me,” snapped Holmes irritably. “Let’s return to the surface.”
Detective Inspector Gallagher smiled to see the Great Detective so put out that whatever theory he had could not be sustained.
As they emerged onto the Embankment, Mr. Small, perhaps seeking to mollify Holmes’s bad humor, was prompted to make another suggestion.
“There is yet another tunnel system, Mr. Holmes,” he finally ventured. “That might pass in the general direction that you have indicated, but I am not sure. I do have a plan of it back at the office. But it has been closed down for over a decade now.”
Holmes asserted that he would like to see the plans.
Gallagher believed that Holmes was off on another wild goose chase and, being just across the road from his office at Scotland Yard, he left Holmes and Watson with Mr. Small. He returned to report the progress to his chief, Littlechild. It was two hours later that Gallagher received a curt note from Holmes asking him to meet him at Glassford’s house within half an hour and bring a posse of armed police officers, who were to station themselves in the front and back of the building.
Gallagher reluctantly carried out Holmes’s orders after consulting with Chief Inspector Littlechild, who checked with the commissioner.
Holmes met Gallagher at the door of Glassford’s house and immediately took him down into the cellar. The first thing that Gallagher noticed was an aperture to the south side of the cellar that had previously been covered by piles of old furniture. Beyond this hole was a tunnel of some ten feet in length, dug through the London clay. But within ten feet it met a well-constructed brick-lined tunnel. It was of arched brickwork some four and a half feet in height and four feet wide and a small-gauge railway line ran through it. Gallagher was puzzled, for this was certainly not a tunnel connected with the rail system. Holmes ordered a policeman to be stationed as a guard at this point and then invited Gallagher to join him in Sir Gibson Glassford’s study.
Holmes had gathered everyone in Glassford’s study. There was the minister himself his wife, and all the servants, nanny, cook, housemaids, and the butler, Hogan. The Great Detective was looking pleased as punch with himself, and Gallagher reported that the spectacle was repulsive in the extreme.
“The case was simple,” exclaimed Holmes in his usual pedantic style. “I drew your attention to the bruising and puncture mark over the vein in the cardinal’s neck. To most people who have dealt with the administration of narcotics, the puncture mark was the sign of a hypodermic syringe. Usually, this is the method by which a medication or drugs is introduced under the skin of the patient by means — “
“I think we know the method, Holmes,” muttered Gallagher. “Dr. Thomson did not agree with you. Indeed, he conducted tests which showed no sign of any foreign substance, let alone narcotics or poison, being introduced into the body of the cardinal which would cause death.”
“There was no need to introduce such foreign matter,” Holmes went on, looking like a cat that has devoured cream. “The hypodermic contained no substance whatsoever.”
“But how — ?” began Sir Gibson.
“It contained nothing but air,” went on Holmes. “It caused an air embolism-a bubble of air-to be introduced into the bloodstream. That was fatal. Cardinal Tosca was murdered.”
Gallagher sighed deeply.
“We already suspected that…,” he protested.
“I have now demonstrated your suspicion to be a fact,” replied Holmes scornfully. “Now that we know the method, the next question is how was the body transported here?”
“You have been at pains to prove your theory that there is a passage through the underground sewers from Soho Square to here,” muttered Gallagher.
Holmes smiled condescendingly. “As you have now observed, it is no theory. It was obvious that the body had to be removed from Soho Square to Gayfere Street. Hardly through the streets in full view, I think, eh, Watson?” Holmes chuckled at his own humor. “It was clear to me that the body had been removed through a dank, smelly sewer. A tunnel where the clothes the body was being transported in, in this case, his nightshirt, had come into contact with the excretions running from the walls. The odors were still apparent after some days in police storage. There was no odor on the cardinal’s other clothing. Those transporting the body had carried them wrapped separately in a bag or some other casing, which protected them. The only question was-through what manner of tunneling was this achieved?”
He paused, presumably to bask in their admiration of his logic. He met only bemusement.
“The body was transported not through the sewers, as it happened, Gallagher. In 1861 the Pneumatic Dispatch Company built an underground rail system. The plan was to transport only mail. However, two years later the Post Office opened its own system and this, coupled with the fact that the pneumatic system had begun to develop mechanical faults and air leakage, caused the plans to extend it to be shelved. Ten years ago, that entire system was abandoned and was also forgotten.”
Holmes paused, waiting like a conjuror about to pull a rabbit from a hat.
“Except by Mr. Small,” pointed out Gallagher, not wishing Holmes to claim the approbation.
“And by the group of people intent on mischief. The body of the cardinal was carried, with his clothing, from his bedroom in the presbytery down to the cellar. In spite of assurances that the door had not been opened in ten years, I observed scuff marks showing that it had been opened recently. The body was removed into the new crypt where workmen had, in their excavations, made contact with the old pneumatic tunnel. The tunnel came directly toward Westminster. In preparation for this ghastly event, which had been well planned, a tunnel had been excavated in advance into the cellar of Sir Gibson’s house. I was alerted by the complaints that had been made to the local sewerage company by the old lady opposite who had been disturbed by it. I subsequently found out that, being elderly, she had removed her bedroom to a lower floor, near ground level. That was how she had
