Sherlock Holmes and the Golden Bird

My expression of disagreement prompted Holmes to go into detail as I hoped it would.

'Consider that in the matter of the Golden Bird and the rival collectors . . .'

'Mere conjecture,' I said quickly, as the great detective had frequently said to me.

'Nonsense! Their footprints are everywhere. If we were lured from England, and I can see no other reason for that counterfeit message from Berlin, then something was planned and, considering those involved, I see no reason for the event not happening. Ergo, it did, but did not cause sufficient interest for the news to reach us. It was not a robbery for I have been in close contact with Scotland Yard and there has not been a reported crime that I have not considered with care. A fatality, then. But we cannot scan the journals of every city in England. Therefore, I finally did the obvious.'

'Which was?' I prompted. He did seem to gain enjoyment by leaving me on tenterhooks.

'I went through the files of various insurance companies. We have discussed the dedication of the Egyptian Pharoahs in taking their worldly goods with them on that final journey into the unknown void. It is a custom of the Anglo-Saxons to make detailed arrangements for their final resting place. The most common means of assuring their burial in other than potter's field is insurance. You will recall that Lindquist remarked that when the end grows near there is a desire to tidy things up. 'Clean the slate' were his actual words, I believe.'

'Never mind, Lindquist,' I said, biting my lips. 'What did you learn?'

'In the hamlet of St. Aubrey one Amos Gridley died a week ago. The name is unfamiliar to me, but I found it quite interesting to learn that the late Mr. Gridley had a pronounced lisp.'

'Of course,' I said, with elation in my voice. But second thoughts dispelled it quickly. 'Surely, Holmes, that is a thin reed you are grasping. How many are born with a speech impediment?'

'I really don't know. However, St. Aubrey is but thirty miles away and if you are available for the journey, we can satisfy our curiosity.'

'Let us do so. How did this Gridley die?'

'Ostensibly from a fall but there seems to be some confusion regarding the matter. Enough to make the insurance people wish to take a second look.'

This set well with me, since if the death was by mysterious means, it gave credence to Holmes's fastening on this particular matter. I could not picture him dashing away from his beloved London merely to follow the trail of a man with a lisp, even if said gentleman was now a corpse.

I had but to throw a few necessities in a light valise should we find it necessary to stay overnight, though my friend anticipated that we would be able to return to Baker Street that evening.

At St. Pancras Station we caught a train, and were soon headed north of London to the ancient city of St. Aubrey. Holmes did not seem disposed to discuss our journey or the case, but I would have none of that, still being most ignorant of the reason for our trip and what we expected to find at the end of it.

'How did you happen to chance upon the matter of this Amos Gridley, Holmes?'

'Elimination. I had to wade through the case of a manufacturer in Liverpool, who slipped getting into his bath and died from a fractured skull. Then there was a woman in Leeds who drowned while taking a hot bath. She had a medical history of minor heart murmurs and her death was listed as drowning due to syncope. She had white foam at her mouth, certainly a sign of drowning.'

I confess I had grown somewhat excited as he recounted in his matter-of-fact manner these two fatal accidents. 'But, Holmes, surely this goes beyond coincidence. Two deaths both involving bathtubs.'

'The number of deaths which occur in bathrooms might well stagger you, ol' fellow. But those cases did not interest me. Gridley's death did.'

'Because he had a lisp.'

'You must admit that it does have an association with the matter of the Golden Bird.'

Somehow Holmes's explanation did not satisfy me, but I had little choice but to accept it. Holmes, as he frequently did, discussed matters alien to our case of the moment, dwelling on the fact that the files of an insurance company provided a treasure trove of information. This did give me an opportunity to return to the Amos Gridley matter.

'You mentioned that there was some mystery regarding the death.'

'The possibility of suicide which, if true, would relieve the Trans-Continental Company of their obligation. As a gesture of appreciation for the use of their files, I promised to explore the matter for them.'

'Surely, there is some other peculiarity that would prompt the insurance people to secure your services.'

My friend's smile was on the sardonic side. 'Insurance companies do not lean toward deduction or intuition or what you might call 'feel,' ol' chap. They are governed by averages. In a manner similar to a gambling casino.'

This analogy must have elicited a look of surprise from me so he continued the comparison.

'A gaming establishment, from tune to time, may incur heavy losses due to a run of luck by a player. But they adopt the long range view based on the fact that in games of chance, the odds favor the house. In a similar vein, our great insurance institutions issue coverage and govern premiums according to averages of what has happened over a period of time. In general, things follow a pattern. Men tend to die at an earlier age than women. Of total deaths a certain percentage are accidental, another percentage due to cardiac disorders, and still another, to epidemical diseases, and so on. The actuary tables have become a science. If something upsets the balance or seems to run counter to the norm, a sharp eye spots it and questions are asked.'

Holmes's mercurial mind fastened on a new topic and he proceeded to regale me with facts regarding our destination, St. Aubrey. Really, the man's knowledge of geography and history was amazing. I was unaware that the city was ancient, indeed being built on the site of a Roman camp which dated back to 40 A.D. The area had once been rich in tin, which explained the presence of the Romans. It boasted some ruins that had provided a tourist attraction at one time. But this had died out and the tin mining had petered out as well.

10

St. Aubrey

97

Instead of contacting the local authorities upon arrival at St. Aubrey, Holmes marched me to The Crossbow, a pub whose fame was more than local. Since Holmes was seldom concerned with the inner man, I was much surprised at his opening move. However, the mystery was rapidly solved when we were taken to a table and greeted by one Harold Witherspoon, M.D., who was obviously awaiting us. I was not surprised to learn that my fellow member of the medical profession served as the medical examiner of St. Aubrey. Obviously, Holmes had laid the groundwork for our investigation in advance.

After suitable greetings and small talk, Dr. Witherspoon was persuaded to order some bitters and I joined him with a draft of stout. Holmes requested a gin and lime and guided the conversation to matters of business.

'It is fortunate that you could join us, Doctor.'

Witherspoon waved this aside. 'No problem, Mr. Holmes. In fact, a necessity since I was not only contacted by an Inspector MacDonald of the Yard, but also by an officer of Trans-Continental Insurance. Le roi le vent,' he continued, with a smile, but then tempered his statement. 'Actually, there is little official work here in sleepy St. Aubrey. While we are not far from London, it would seem that we are shielded by the veil of years.' He threw a glance at me. 'I retired from my private practice before assuming the duties of medical examiner.'

'The matter of Amos Gridley is fresh in your mind?' Holmes was surveying the doctor keenly.

'Indeed, sir. Bit of a surprise, that. Amos was a loner. Ran an antique shop here. Single man all his life. Parsimonious, you know, but necessity may have cast him in that role. His line of work is not noted for financial rewards and people don't come to see the Roman Ruins as they once did.' Witherspoon flicked his eyes toward me. 'Have you ever visited our local landmarks of history, Doctor Watson?'

'As my mouth opened to respond, Holmes overrode me. 'Possibly we can both view them, after our business here.' There was an echo of impatience in his manner. 'The body was discovered outside his cottage, I believe.'

Witherspoon was evidently sensitive to nuances. Suddenly, he did not look as bucolic or benign.

'Right below the porch, having fallen from the roof of it, you see. Cause of death was a broken neck. No doubt about that.'