The Sherlock Holmes Megapack: 25 Modern Tales by Masters. Michael Kurland
Holmes and I climbed inside the cab.
“Watson, I am in the process of setting a trap.” Holmes signalled with his stick, and the driver set off. “I have deep reservations regarding Sheppington. He may be using his grandmother’s regard for him and playing upon her affections, either alone or in collusion with his uncle. If Denbeigh and Sheppington are guilty of conspiring in order to gain control of Her Grace’s fortune, I will draw them out and expose their machinations.”
“So you believe her to be the victim of a plot?”
“Possibly, Watson, possibly. If, on the other hand, she does suffer from kleptomania, we must see to it that she does not have the opportunity to disgrace herself and her family by being publicly exposed.”
“But how are we to do that?”
“We took the first step this afternoon. Our next task is to send a message and ask Denbeigh and Sheppington to call upon us on the morrow.”
* * * *
The next day dawned bright and chill. Holmes and I were immersed in the morning newspapers and Mrs Hudson was clearing our breakfast dishes when the bell announced visitors. She bustled out with a tray of crockery, only to appear again moments later, breathing heavily.
“Her Grace,” she panted.
The dowager duchess entered, heavily veiled. With a brisk nod, Her Grace dismissed Mrs Hudson, then lifted the veils before turning to Holmes.
“Mr Holmes, Doctor. I apologise for calling unannounced.”
She appeared slightly flustered, but when I suggested she be seated, she gave an impatient wave.
“No time, gentlemen. I overheard Maurice speaking of his visit; he will be here soon.”
“How may we be of assistance?” asked Holmes.
“Count von Kratzov is giving a ball tomorrow. He currently occupies one of my properties in Town; therefore I must make an appearance.” She paced from the hearth to the breakfast table and back. “He will be displaying the von Kratzov emeralds, the first time they have been publicly shown outside of Poland. I suspect that Maurice may attempt some mischief in order to disgrace me and further his aims.”
“We must prevent that from occurring, Holmes!” I said.
“Indeed we must.” Holmes looked inquiringly at her. “Would it be possible to procure an invitation for the good doctor and me?”
“I would be grateful if you and Doctor Watson would accompany me.”
Holmes shook his head. “It would be best if we were not of your party.”
“Ah. Of course.” She smiled. “I will drop a hint to a friend, who will ensure that you both are included on the list of guests.” She held out her hand to Holmes, who bowed over it briefly.
“Excellent!” Holmes glanced at the clock. “And now I am expecting your son—”
“Yes!” She lowered her veils and hurried to the door. “Thank you, Mr Holmes, Doctor.”
Rather than bother Mrs Hudson, I saw Her Grace to the pavement and hailed a hansom for her. She thanked me most prettily before departing.
I had barely gained our chambers before the bell rang again. Within moments, Denbeigh entered, accompanied by his nephew.
I bowed, but remained in my place by the window where I could clearly see both men. If either Denbeigh or Sheppington attempted to surreptitiously pocket an item in order to dishonour Her Grace, I wished to be the one who revealed their perfidy.
As Holmes explained the advantages of forging agreements with all of the shops patronised by Her Grace, Sheppington prowled about the room before lounging against the hearth. He withdrew a silver case from his pocket, extracted a cigarette, and lit it.
Denbeigh frowned. “And what is to prevent these shopkeepers from falsely charging my mother for items she did not take?”
“These are the most reputable establishments in London,” said Holmes. “Any such allegations would be ruinous.”
“I agree with Mr Holmes, Uncle.” The young man shrugged and flicked his half-smoked cigarette into the embers. “If we can’t stop Grandmama pinching the stuff, at least this will keep it quiet.”
“Hilary!” Denbeigh appeared scandalised. He turned to my friend. “Very well, Mr Holmes. Although I have reservations, we shall try your suggestion.”
Holmes coughed gently. “Matters are already arranged at Carrington’s. All that remains to be done is to make similar agreements with the other shops your mother patronises. Would you care for me to undertake this task?”
“That won’t be necessary, Mr Holmes,” said Denbeigh stiffly. “I shall take responsibility for this matter myself.”
Dropping onto a chair, Sheppington crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned back. “I only wish that since Grandmama’s so free and easy with other people’s belongings, she’d loosen up the money bags for me a little. I’m stone broke. And Uncle, I know you’ve lost a bundle—”
“We will not discuss that at present, Hilary.” Denbeigh glanced at Holmes. “Do you have further advice regarding my mother’s affliction?”
“Not at present.”
“Then we shall bid you good day. Come, Hilary.”
Sheppington heaved a sigh as he rose. “Of course. Goodbye, Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson.”
Holmes turned to the window, while I saw His Lordship and his nephew to the door.
“Do you believe Denbeigh will follow your suggestion and contact the shopkeepers?” I returned to my chair. “He did not seem especially taken with the idea.”
“Very true. You noticed that he did not mention the ball or the emeralds?”
“Why would—” I stopped, suddenly struck by Holmes’s implication. “Do you believe that omission to be suspicious?”
“Possibly so.” Holmes’s shrug was positively Gallic. “Another possibility exits, however. If Denbeigh knows the emeralds are well protected, and that his mother would have little chance to pilfer them, he would have no cause for concern.”
“So, we shall spend tomorrow evening observing Her Grace,” I said. “I can only hope it is less arduous than our afternoon trailing her about the shops.”
“I suspect that observing Her Grace will be the least interesting portion of our evening,” said Holmes with a laugh.
“What do you mean?”
“You heard Her Grace, Watson. This will be the first time the von Kratzov emeralds will be on display outside Poland, and not only will they be an object of interest to members of society, but they will attract the attention of every jewel thief in Europe.”
“Good God, do you think so?”
“I do indeed.” Holmes’s eyes sparkled. “In fact, I will be very much surprised if we do not encounter several notorious thieves during the course of the evening.”
“But Holmes! Should we not inform Scotland Yard of your suspicions?”
“I am certain that the count has taken every precaution,” he replied. “But it is a clear day, if a trifle chill. I suggest we take the air now, for I shall be occupied later this afternoon.”
I rose and followed him. We donned our coats and gloves, and as we stepped onto the pavement, Holmes reached into his pocket and froze.
“Holmes!” I exclaimed, gazing at his countenance in alarm. “What is wrong? Are you ill?”
He took a deep, shuddering breath, threw his head back, and emitted a bark of laughter that would have frightened me if he hadn’t immediately calmed.
“I