legs a bit. It has been a long trip.'
Feeling cramped I fell in with Holmes's suggestion readily. However, I was never to visit the station of this Serbian city. Holmes prudently awaited the halt of the train and surveyed the platform before making a move to alight. As a result, we did not move at all, for his keen eyes noted something and he drew back from the window of our compartment quickly.
'Now that is odd,' he said. 'The two Chinese gentlemen have alighted from the train with their luggage. Stay away from the window, Watson. I have a good angle on them and I doubt if they can see me.'
'What in heaven's name are they doing?'
'Merely collecting their luggage. Ah, they have placed it in the hands of a porter. The porter is carrying their possessions into the station, but they seem more interested in observing their fellow passengers.'
'You mean they are just watching the train?'
'Unobtrusively, but that's what it amounts to. It would seem that they expect us to alight.'
When the Orient Express pulled out of Nis, our Orientals were still on the platform. Holmes had some words with our attendant, whom he addressed in his impeccable French. Shortly thereafter, he learned that the Chinese gentlemen were only ticketed as far as Nis.
Holmes was as puzzled as I was. 'It makes a hash of my theory, Watson.'
'How so?'
'The Chinese were set upon our trail to find out what we were up to. There can be no doubt about that. However, I felt that they anticipated our going to Constantinople, hence their presence on this train. Now it would seem that they expected us to get off at Nis. What possible interest could we have in this city in lower Bosnia? Well, Watson, when something proves completely baffling, 'tis best to dismiss it till additional information presents itself.
8
In Constantinople
75
The remainder of our journey to Turkey seemed rather stale. It was as though the opposition, as I categorized the sinister Orientals, were not interested in what we might discover in Constantinople, which did not bode well for our inquiry.
Through we arrived quite late of the evening, Holmes easily secured accommodations at the Golden Horn Hotel and, though I had slept considerably during our trip, I had little difficulty in quieting my thoughts and drifting into the refreshment of unconsciousness. Holmes did not pace our suite nervously as was his frequent custom when on a case. Possibly the departure of the hatchet men had been a letdown for us both.
The next morning I was impatient to see the fabled city, which had been the center of so many civilizations dating from the seven Troys, with their ruins atop one another. The meeting of East and West, jewel of the Eastern Roman Empire as well as the Ottoman, junction of three continents and three seas—Constantinople had intrigued me since childhood. But could I feast my eyes on Hagia Sophia or wander through the Topkopi Palace? Certainly not, for Holmes was intent on a case and even the Blue Mosque to him was just a background building, nothing more.
Since the shop of Aben Hassim was on Istikial Caddesi near Taksim Square—a fashionable address, by the way—we walked to it. I did get a taste of the city with its mosques, palaces, crowded bazaars and beautiful shops. I had viewed the Galata Bridge over the Bosporus from our hotel window.
It did not occur to me at the time, but Holmes directed our steps unerringly. The man's knowledge of cities and geography in general was, as I have mentioned before, uncanny.*
* It is interesting to note that a latter-day detective of widespread fame and girth who was born in Montenegro spent a great deal of time studying maps.
Hassim's place of business was relatively small but tastefully furnished, with the quiet and affluent atmosphere that frequently sedates the visitor into paying considerably more for an object than intended. Again, Holmes's card provided instant action and a salesman escorted us to the small office adjacent to the showroom, which was the lair of the owner.
Aben Hassim was a small man with a Vandyke beard, the swarthy complexion clued by his name and, of all things, a monocle. Somehow it seemed out of place next door to Asia, but he twirled it in his right hand when talking and was as at home with it as a French diplomat. I grew interested in the eyepiece, especially since he did not choose to use it when reading the letter from Berlin that Holmes presented to him after we had exchanged customary greetings. Closer inspection convinced me that Hassim's monocle possessed a powerful lens and I realized that he used it to inspect
'D'Anglas's letter explains your presence, Mr. Holmes, though a visit by such a famed criminologist would naturally be in connection with the Golden Bird. Its disappearance is the only incident in the history of my establishment that could pique your interest.'
'Could you tell us how you came upon the piece and how it was removed?'
'Happy chance allowed me to acquire it. A woman was cleaning her attic in a house that, in times gone by, had served as a modest lodging place. Her mother and grandmother as well had rented rooms. In the attic was an old trunk and when she succeeded in opening it she found the Bird. There was nothing else of value in the trunk. I inquired as to that, but the most untrained eye detects gold, Mr. Holmes. The lady brought the object to me and I recognized it immediately.' Hassim's monocle was twirling in his hand. 'It is the eye that does it, always. Just as a book-lover can recognize that rare first edition on some second-hand book-shelf, so the art dealer must be able to capitalize on that rare moment when serendipity graces his door. I will be frank. It was with difficulty that I suppressed my excitement. The workmanship of the Bird certainly rivals that of Cellini or Lorenzo Ghiberti. I informed the woman that the piece was indeed gold and weighed it, referred to the present gold price on the international market, and made her an offer which she accepted. Now my problem was not to dwell overlong on my acquisition since, if I fell in love with the piece, it might prove difficult to part with it.'
Hassim paused to regard us with a wry smile. 'An industrial disease native to my calling, gentlemen, and a most unprofitable affliction. When a dealer falls prey to the avarice of the collector, he ceases to function as a cog in the commercial world. True, gloating over his treasures provides an inner reward but does not place food on the table. I have seen cases . . .' He broke off with an apologetic expression. 'But that is another story and not of interest to you. I immediately took steps to affirm my legal ownership. No problem since, though the Bird has had many owners, I had purchased it from a source that had, however unwittingly, held possession for forty years or better. With the necessary paperwork effected, I made known to the world of art that the piece was for sale. D'Anglas made an immediate offer by post, which I was glad to accept. Considering the Bird's history, I was rather relieved to sell the object while it was still in my hands.'
'Your concern indicates that you took pains to secure the golden roc while you had it,' said Holmes quietly. 'A bank vault, perhaps?'
The dealer indicated the wall behind his desk. 'Fortunately, the house of Hassim has a number of valuable objects from time to time and I have installed the latest in modern safes.'
Holmes was viewing the squat strongbox in the wall with interest. 'Mills Stroffner, I see. That model was manufactured three years ago and they haven't unproved on it.'
'Quite right, Mr. Holmes,' replied Hassim, with some pride. 'But then, Sherlock Holmes would naturally know about the best in safes. As would Doctor Watson,' he added, quickly.
I found the attitude of the Continentals that we had met on this trip quite delightful. Long association had placed me on friendly terms with Lestrade, Gregson, MacDonald, and others at the Yard, but they never considered me as an expert on criminological matters. However, the police sergeant in Berlin and Hassim viewed matters differently. Obviously, my writings relative to Holmes had led them to misjudge my fund of information and aptitude. Notwithstanding, having played such a distant second fiddle for so long, it was charming to be clothed in the garment of expertise even though the material was spurious.
'You accepted D'Anglas's offer and then what happened?' asked Holmes. 'I don't recall that the Bird was lost in the mails.'
