The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures - Mike Ashley [222]
Yours faithfully
MAXWELL DOWLING
I thought for a moment before saying, “You deduce that he is a solicitor rather than, say, a stockbroker or other professional man, because that is Wrigley’s line?”
“Not that alone. The prolixity of Mr Dowling’s literary style suggests to me that he learned the law in the days when legal draughtsmen were paid by the word. It is a fussy letter, yet it makes the salient points. There is, too, the phraseology that he employs which I would associate with a lawyer rather than, say, a financier or a medical man. He cannot be a barrister, however, since members of the Bar do not practise in partnership. Above all, though, I would refer you to the obvious fact that this letter appears to have been composed by a man who is genuinely troubled by a mystery which he wishes to resolve with all due speed.”
“Hence the early appointment?”
“Precisely. You will note, however, that he takes care to specify with some precision the terms upon which he proposes to contract for my services. Think of all those others who have anxiously sought my assistance over the years. Who else but a lawyer would take such trouble? I do not accuse Dowling of possessing an especially mercenary turn of mind. I would rather say simply that the habits of a lifetime are seldom abandoned, even in extremis. Depend upon it, my boy, this new client is a solicitor. But there is a ring at the bell. We shall soon have an opportunity to test the accuracy or otherwise of the inferences I have drawn.”
We heard a measured tread upon the stairs and within moments Mr Maxwell Dowling was ushered into our room. He was a man of about sixty, small, neat and anxious in manner. He wore a hat, gaiters, black trousers and pince-nez attached by a long ribbon to the lapel of his frock-coat. He studied us both through the glasses before giving a bow which seemed to denote satisfaction with what he observed.
“It is good to meet you, Mr Holmes. Thank you for being prepared to see me at short notice. I must admit I have not myself read the accounts of your exploits penned by your faithful chronicler here, Dr Watson. Young Abergavenny has yet to persuade me of the appeal of sensational literature. But as I mentioned in my letter, I have heard from my cousin that you are intrigued by the bizarre, and the matter which brings me here is nothing if not that.”
“If we are agreed that I am to charge you by the hour for my services,” Holmes said, with a touch of mischief, “perhaps it would prudent for you to explain the details without more ado.”
“Ah yes. Forgive me, my dear wife has been known to complain that I am a trifle long-winded.” Dowling coughed. “Ahem. The further and better particulars. Certainly. I should first say, Mr Holmes, that I am solicitor with a small office in Essex Street. For the past three decades I have been a sole practitioner acting for a number of – if I say so myself – most distinguished clients. But during the past eighteen months or so, my wife has been encouraging me to think of the future. As a result, I began to look around for a partner, someone who might come into the business with a view in the long term to buying out my share of it.”
Our visitor paused and I had the distinct impression that he was about to confide in us at some length concerning the financial anxieties faced by a man in such a position. Holmes was no doubt of the same mind, for he said briskly, “And so you took in this Mr John Abergavenny?”
“Yes, he had been working for a firm in Holborn with which I have regular dealings. He seemed a splendid fellow, an ideal choice. Hard-working and capable, a thoroughly decent young man. Above all, there was no question as to his integrity. He seemed to be a man I could trust and that, of course, was a matter of the most