Sherlock Holmes and the Golden Bird

upbringing among law-abiding people, the immunization from the plague that was the sharp and piercing eyes of Sherlock Holmes.

Since he had left no message, I devoted the day to catching up with my much-neglected practice, ably handled by Vernier or Goodbody during my frequent absences. It was in the early evening hours that I returned to Baker Street, where I found Holmes, in his familiar dressing gown, attended by familiars of our residence.

The bony figure, topped by the large cranium of Inspector Alec MacDonald, sat in our visitor's chair, while lounging in a straight-back was the almost skeletal form of Slim Gilligan. The master cracksman had removed his cloth cap, but the unlit cigarette dangled from his lips as it had on so many other occasions.

'Ah, Watson, you time your arrival well,' said Holmes, genially. 'It seemed appropriate that we have a council of those directly involved in this matter and your presence completes the circle. I have related to Slim and Mr. Mac something of our trip to rural surroundings and we were just considering the next step.'

'I have a thought regarding that,' I said with determination, placing my medical bag by the cane rack and divesting myself of my coat and bowler. 'Does not a summation seem in order? This case has led down so many paths that I am hopelessly mired in a sea of confusion.'

Gilligan's toothy smile was immediate. 'It's sometimes wiser, Doc, not to know too much.'

'But Watson's point is well-made,' said Holmes, somewhat to my surprise. 'Our interests are identical here since Mr. Mac is officially involved in the death of Barker, a matter in which we have considerable interest as well.'

'What about the Chinese seaman on the Asian Star or Amos Gridley?' I asked, quickly. If answers were forthcoming, I had a number of points that required clearing up.

'The mystery of the Golden Bird is interwoven inextricably with the homicides,' said Holmes.

'But if you come into possession of the Bird,' I began, but was interrupted by Holmes.

'There is more to the puzzle of the elusive statue than simple possession.'

I hoped the detective would continue to explore this vein but he shifted his tack.

'Have there been any recent rumblings in the underworld?' he asked our visitors.

MacDonald placed his Irish whiskey on the occasional table by his side. 'You are thinking of Baron Dowson and his boys. No, they havena' made moves toward Chu San Fu in retaliation for the fracas at the Nonpareil Club. I had pictured a gang war breaking out but there are no indications of it.'

'Exactly the opposite,' commented Gilligan. Slim was not loquacious by nature, so when he made a statement, there was reason behind it. Three pairs of eyes swiveled in his direction and he elaborated. 'Whitey Burke an' four of his best lads left London this morning' bound for St. Aubrey, of all places.' My breath came in suddenly but neither Holmes nor MacDonald reacted to this news.

'I'm thinkin' that if Dowson was gunnin' fer the Chink, 'e'd 'ave use fer Whitey. Burke bosses the Lambeth Duster Gang and they 'ave a sorta workin' arrangement with Dowson.'

'Now that's interesting,' said MacDonald, ponderously.

'And very logical,' commented Holmes. 'Watson and I know that Dowson is in the pay of Basil Selkirk. The industrialist may be anticipating the attention of Chu and his people.'

MacDonald absorbed this news for a moment. 'Then Burke and his men are goin' down-country as mercenaries.'

'That is my thought,' agreed Holmes.

'So, as you intimated before Doctor Watson's arrival, 'tis Selkirk and the Chinaman. Dowson's gang is the army that the financier is puttin' into the field. Well, I wouldna' welcome bein' quoted, but if they have at each other a bit, 'twould be no loss to the Yard.'

'Save that we have no guarantee that only their blood will be split,' remarked Holmes, with his quiet smile. 'There was a certain efficiency in the manner of the Italian city states, which hired their mercenaries and fought their wars with a minimum of loss to the civilian population. However, back to our problem: Watson and I have been fortunate enough to discover much about the history of the elusive Bird, information I consider important in attempting to uncover why this art object has acted as such a catalyst in this affair. We know who is after the statue, though not why. However, one thing remains a complete mystery: the death of Barker, the Surrey investigator. He was delving into the matter of the Golden Bird at the time of his death. He was employed at the Nonpareil Club. As I have frequently stated, premature theories are the bane of investigations but it is reasonable to assume that he learned Dowson had been hired to recover the object from Chu San Fu. It is what else he learned that is so important. Something prompted him to hasten to his employer, Nils Lindquist, and he was killed in the process. Before dying, he said one word to Lindquist: 'Pasha!' Does that mean anything to you, Mr. Mac?'

A brief negative was the inspector's response and Slim Gilligan mimicked him when Holmes's eyes shifted in his direction.

The sleuth thought for a moment. 'There may be a break in this case shortly, but because of the powerful and potentially dangerous elements involved, I doubt if a disclosure of value is due to fall into our laps. Therefore, it behooves us to concentrate for the time on Barker. If he learned something, we can, as well.'

It is sticking in his craw a bit, I thought. A fellow investigator, either by diligence or chance, has come across information that has so far eluded Sherlock Holmes. One of his greatest assets has always been his complete confidence in his ability, which precludes any possibility of negative thinking. But he's reached an impasse and he won't rest until he's thought his way round it.

My musings were interrupted by MacDonald, who had often been the audience to one of Holmes' patented tour de force solutions and must have savored a denouement of his own.

'Relative to Barker,' said the Aberdeenian, softly, 'I have a wee bit o' information. Bystanders identified the vehicle which ran him down as a hansom. So the Yard in its slow-movin' manner investigated all the public conveyances it could.' There was a touch of triumphant malice in his words that had to be directed toward Holmes. 'We found one not far from the furniture warehouse that housed the Amateur Mendicant Society.'

Holmes was watching him intently as he paused. I recalled the Society MacDonald mentioned. It was a case my friend solved in '87.

'The front right wheel had a stain on it and our laboratory men were able to establish it as blood. They used the very reagent you discovered Mr. Holmes to establish that fact. In addition, they discovered that the blood was the same type as Barker's. The hansom had been stolen and then abandoned.'

'Capital work, Mr. Mac!' said Holmes, with enthusiasm. 'While we have assumed that Barker met his death by foul play, it is comforting to have a deduction verified. This evidence might not be accepted as conclusive in a court of law, but I believe we can take it as fact. Coincidence can be stretched but so far. All right then, if we have no more revelations to contribute let us center our energies on Barker and whatever he discovered. I would like to know what he was doing at the Nonpareil Club. That may have a bearing on what he found.'

'Let me inquire into that,' volunteered MacDonald. 'In the process of investigating his death it would be reasonable to inquire into his employment. In fact, it would be strange if I did not.'

Holmes nodded. 'Also the fact that Barker's death has not been dismissed as accidental might make Dowson somewhat nervous, not a bad thing at all. Let me inquire into his personal life and quarters. I have some ideas regarding that, Slim, which it might be better for Mr. Mac not to be aware of. Officially, that is.'

The inspector knew Holmes's methods, having been associated with him on a number of cases. His craggy face loosened to permit a wise smile. 'Barker's landlady said that his lawyer had paid for the rental of his lodgings till the end of the month,' he mentioned. 'Strange that we have found no trace of said gentleman,' he added in such a manner that I was sure he knew of Holmes's involvement.

'But, as Gilligan said, some things are best not known,' concluded MacDonald.

He seemed on the verge of rising when I became conscious of the sound of music on the street below. I was looking at Holmes at this very moment and saw his alert eyes flick toward the casement window. Was I right in thinking that his face suddenly hardened?

'Strange. An organ grinder on Baker Street at this hour,' I commented. Instinctively, I rose from my chair by the fire, moving toward the window.

'Passing by, no doubt,' said Holmes, quickly, but my curiosity was aroused and I crossed to the aperture.

From long habit, I peered out from the side of the curtains rather than opening them. Behind me, Mac-Donald