I thought for a moment. 'The reference must be to the singular adventure of the Atkinson Brothers at Trincomalee . . . but ...'
'But do recall that, following exposure, the brothers fled to Constantinople.'
'That's it, Holmes! Treasure . . . golden . . . bird . . . theft . . . Constantinople . . . what's next?'
' 'Six: Eduardo Lucas and Milverton.' '
I gazed at Holmes in astonishment. 'But they are both dead.'
'True, but they certainly had something in common.'
'They were both blackmailers. Lucas came within an ace of ruining the Secretary for European Affairs in that 'Second Stain' affair, as you well know.'
'And Charles Augustus Milverton was an even greater and more heartless rascal, if that is possible.'
'But, Holmes, it was coming along swimmingly to this point. Now we have two deceased blackmailers who could not be involved.'
'But you will accept two. I think that is rather important. Let us look deeper, ol' chap. What do blackmailers do?'
'Extort money, bleed their victims dry.'
'Agreed. And they are able to ply their nefarious trade because they are collectors.'
I did not follow this at all so Holmes elaborated. 'Both Lucas and Milverton collected indiscreet letters, proofs of crime or infidelity, knowledge of sordid episodes in their victims' lives. What Barker suggests is that two collectors are involved in the pursuit of the Golden Bird. It being an art object, we must assume that both are collectors of art. Now our adventure of this evening reveals that one of these collectors could put his hand on a very large sum of money.'
'The payoff to Baron Dowson,' I said, mechanically, and was rewarded with a nod.
'While the other could command a sizeable group of henchmen. Is it not obvious that these mysterious collectors are men of wealth and power?'
As I nodded, Holmes referred to the letter again.
'Here you must help me, good fellow. 'Seven: The birth of Mary Morstan?' '
'My dear Mary was born in 1861,' I said sadly. 'Of course, the date may not have been what Barker was referring to.'
'Possibly the next clue will give us an indication. 'Eight: Victor Hatherley was? . . .' '
'He was an engineer,' I said, promptly. 'He was young.'
Holmes puzzled on this for a moment. 'He was also unfortunate.'
'I would certainly say so having his thumb chopped off like that.'
'I note,' said my friend, 'that Barker seems partial to the titles of your stories and 'The Engineer's Thumb' was the name you gave it.'
'Hmm . . . Victor Hatherley was without a thumb? Missing a thumb?'
'Wait,' said Holmes. 'Possibly a number is our seventh clue. Would not the word
'Victor Hatherley was minus a thumb. He certainly was. What is the next clue, Holmes?'
'Here is an easy one and I think a picture is coming into focus. 'Nine: The objects in Holder's security.' '
'The Beryl Coronet,' I said, hastily.
'And there were thirty-nine Beryls in the Coronet.'
'Why, Holmes, it's obvious. 1861 minus 39 gives us 1822.'
'Indeed, it does and that is the last clue. Does it have any significance to you?'
I tried, dear me how I tried, but my efforts were fruitless. Holmes was obviously stumped as well.
'What do you make of all this, Holmes?'
'Two things. 1822 is the prime bit of information. Note that the rest of this message relates to matters we have already learned about. I believe the date was the information that poor Barker was taking to Lindquist when he met his fate.'
'What is your other conclusion?'
'Simply that Barker was a devoted reader of your printed words, my good Watson.'
5
To Berlin
41
It was coming on to ten of the morning when I descended from my bedchamber to find that Holmes had preceded me and was with company. Inspector Alec MacDonald was enjoying a steaming cup of coffee with the great detective, but considering the suspicious glance he fastened upon me as I entered the sitting room, I sensed that this was not a social call.
'Ah, Watson, you come at an appropriate time,' said Holmes, pouring from the great silver urn. 'I'm just learning about a singular event that occurred in Soho last night.'
Accepting a cup from Holmes, I tried to look interested and startled at the same time. My innocent expression did not seem to register on the dour inspector, who at this time was just beginning to build the formidable reputation that he later enjoyed at Scotland Yard.
'Knowin' your sources of information, Mr. Holmes, 'tis surprising to me you've not already heard of it.'
'Tell us all,' I said, sitting alongside the desk with what I hoped was a relaxed manner.
'The Nonpareil Club was hit last night by a whole gang of Chinee. Pitchin' battle, it was, too.'
'Any casualties?' queried Holmes.
'A couple of the Orientals were wounded. We've got them down at the Yard but they dinna speak a word of English or wouldna' admit to it. Several of the Baron's lads got hurt as well. That's all we know. It's possible that there were more either wounded or killed but the bodies were removed before we got there.'
'This certainly sounds like a large scale affair. Can you divine a reason?'
'Not offhand, Mr. Holmes. Dowson has his finger in a number of sticky pies, we ha' known that for years. Since the passin' of Professor Moriarty he may well be the leading criminal of London. We've found it convenient to let him run his gaming house since we generally keep our eye on the place and sometimes secure valuable information. The Chinese element have numerous fan-tan houses but Dowson's clientele wouldna' patronize them so it doesna' add up as some territorial dispute.'
The dour Scot, who had been gazing into the hearth fire, suddenly threw a shrewd glance at the great detective.
'I was rather hopin' you might shed some light on the matter.'
'It is singular, Mr. Mac that you should come to me about the Nonpareil Club since Watson and I were there but recently.'
Surprise blossomed on MacDonald's face and he quickly surpressed it.
'I had wanted to give the place a looking-at,' continued Holmes, 'and Watson and I left the losers. Not from the games of chance, which I suspect do not provide the player with the true gambling odds. My sword stick was missing when we departed from the premises and also Watson's army revolver, which he had left in his greatcoat pocket.'
Fortunately, I was able to suppress my astonishment at this pure fabrication on the part of my friend.
'I was in hopes,' continued Holmes, 'that the two items would be recovered and, in the normal fashion of things, posted a letter only this morning to Lestrade reporting the missing articles.'
MacDonald's lips were compressed in a firm line.
'Well, they are missin' no longer, sir. A cane sword was found on the stairs of an adjacent warehouse, stained with blood. And a Smith-Webley army issue was found at the head of the same stairs with all chambers fired. I might add that there was blood in the vicinity but no bodies were found. Some bits of clothing indicate that the victims were Oriental, as were the attackers of the Nonpareil Club.'
Holmes did not carry his pretense of innocence too far. He had a hearty respect for the acumen of the Aberdeenian.
'It would seem that the attackers were familiar with the history of the club and the fact that numerous hidden exits exist from it. Some, if memory serves me well, involving the adjacent warehouse.'
