The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures - Mike Ashley [55]
Jones head remained in close proximity to the dog but it moved downwards in a virtually imperceptible nod.
“I believe your client to be Lord Arthur Beacham …” Holmes paused but Jones did not move.
“And I believe you have copied many paintings for him over the last six months or so.”
Another gentle nod.
“The work was carried out over a day and a night and both paintings, the original and the copy, were returned to your client. He then returned the fake to the premises of the owner and sold the original to one of several unscrupulous collectors.”
“I have no notion of what happens to the paintings when they leave these premises, Mr Holmes. I have no interest in the matter and would regard it as somewhat indiscreet to make enquiries.”
“I can understand that. Such enquiries could lead you to learn information you would not wish to know.”
For a moment a smile played on the old man’s thin lips. He sat up, and looked Holmes in the eye and nodded.
Holmes continued: “I take it that you are able carry out preparatory work on most copies as their images are easily accessible in lithographic form.”
“That is correct. I prepare what I call my skeleton work in advance. It speeds up the process and lessens the time the original work needs to be with me in my gallery.”
“But in the case of the de Granville this was not possible, was it? Being a ‘lost painting’ there were no lithographs available, so you required a longer time with the original.”
Another imperceptible nod.
“You are an excellent listener,” cried Holmes enthusiastically, rising to his feet and pulling me with him. “Your silences have been most eloquent. My case is all but complete. I thank you.”
“In expressing your gratitude please remember that I conveyed no information to you, nor confirmed any of your statements.”
“Of course. The players in this sordid drama will condemn themselves without involvement from outside sources. Come, Watson, let us see if the cabbie has waited for us.”
And so in this hurried manner we took our leave of “the dog man”.
I was surprised at the speed by which this case came to its conclusion; and a very dark conclusion it was too. I would never have guessed that what began as as a fairly inconsequential affair concerning a missing painting would end in murder and a family’s disgrace.
The cabbie had been as good as his word and was still waiting for us at the corner of the street. However an expression of relief crossed his ruddy features as he saw us returning. “Back to Baker Street is it?” he asked as we climbed aboard.
“No,” responded Holmes, “Mayfair.”
“This is a sad affair, Watson,” said my friend, lighting a cigarette as he lounged back in the recesses of the cab. “The person who will be hurt most by its outcome is the only innocent player in the drama.”
“Lady Darlington?”
He shook his head. “Her husband. His career is likely to crumble to dust if the facts become public. Lady Darlington is far from innocent.”
“You cannot mean she was involved in the theft?”
“Think, Watson, think. There was only one key to the gallery. It was on Lord Darlington’s watch chain. The only time he would not be wearing it would be at night when he was asleep. Then his wife, and only she, sleeping in the same room would have easy access to it. She is the only person who could have provided entry to the gallery. However improbable the circumstances, logic always provides certainties.”
Lady Darlington was dismayed to see us and it was with a certain amount of ill grace that she bade us take a seat in the morning room. “I hope this will not take long, gentlemen. I have a series of pressing engagements today.”
We had only just taken our seats when Holmes gave a sharp sigh of irritation and leapt to his feet. “I beg your pardon, Lady Darlington, my brain is addled today. I have just bethought me of a pressing matter that had slipped my mind. There is urgent need to send a telegram concerning another case of mine which is coming to fruition. If you will pardon me one moment, I will arrange for our cab-driver to deliver the message.”
Before Lady Darlington