The Adventure Of The Illustrious Client
"It can't hurt now," was Mr. Sherlock Holmes's comment when, for the
tenth time in as many years, I asked his leave to reveal the following
narrative. So it was that at last I obtained permission to put on
record what was, in some ways, the supreme moment of my friend's
career.
Both Holmes and I had a weakness for the Turkish bath. It was over a
smoke in the pleasant lassitude of the drying-room that I have found
him less reticent and more human than anywhere else. On the upper floor
of the Northumberland Avenue establishment there is an isolated corner
where two couches lie side by side, and it was on these that we lay
upon September 3, 1902, the day when my narrative begins. I had asked
him whether anything was stirring, and for answer he had shot his long,
thin, nervous arm out of the sheets which enveloped him and had drawn
an envelope from the inside pocket of the coat which hung beside him.
"It may be some fussy, self-important fool; it may be a matter of life
or death," said he as he handed me the note. "I know no more than this
message tells me."
It was from the Carlton Club and dated the evening before. This is what
I read:
Sir James Damery presents his compliments to Mr. Sherlock Holmes and
will call upon him at 4:30 to-morrow. Sir James begs to say that the
matter upon which he desires to consult Mr. Holmes is very delicate and
also very important. He trusts, therefore, that Mr. Holmes will make every
effort to grant this interview, and that he will confirm it over the
telephone to the Carlton Club.
"I need not say that I have confirmed it, Watson," said Holmes as I
returned the paper. "Do you know anything of this man Damery?"
"Only that this name is a household word in society."
"Well, I can tell you a little more than that. He has rather a
reputation for arranging delicate matters which are to be kept out of
the papers. You may remember his negotiations with Sir George Lewis
over the Hammerford Will case. He is a man of the world with a natural
turn for diplomacy. I am bound, therefore, to hope that it is not a
false scent and that he has some real need for our assistance."
"Our?"
"Well, if you will be so good, Watson."
"I shall be honoured."
"Then you have the hour--4:30. Until then we can put the matter out
of our heads."
I was living in my own rooms in Queen Anne Street at the time, but I
was round at Baker Street before the time named. Sharp to the
half-hour, Colonel Sir James Damery was announced. It is hardly
necessary to describe him, for many will remember that large, bluff,
honest personality, that broad, cleanshaven face, and, above all, that
pleasant, mellow voice. Frankness shone from his gray Irish eyes, and
good humour played round his mobile, smiling lips. His lucent top-hat,
his dark frock-coat, indeed, every detail, from the pearl pin in the
black satin cravat to the lavender spats over the varnished shoes,
spoke of the meticulous care in dress for which he was famous. The big,
masterful aristocrat dominated the little room.
"Of course, I was prepared to find Dr. Watson," he remarked with a
courteous bow. "His collaboration may be very necessary, for we are
dealing on this occasion, Mr. Holmes, with a man to whom violence is
familiar and who will, literally, stick at nothing. I should say that
there is no more dangerous man in Europe."
"I have had several opponents to whom that flattering term has been
applied," said Holmes with a smile. "Don't you smoke? Then you will
excuse me if I light my pipe. If your man is more dangerous than the
late Professor Moriarty, or than the living Colonel Sebastian Moran,
then he is indeed worth meeting. May I ask his name?"
"Have you ever heard of Baron Gruner?"
"You mean the Austrian murderer?"
Colonel Damery threw up his kid-gloved hands with a laugh. "There is no
getting past you, Mr. Holmes! Wonderful! So you have already sized him
up as a murderer?"
"It is my business to follow the details of Continental crime. Who
could possibly have read what happened at Prague and have any doubts as
to the man's guilt! It was a purely technical legal point and the
suspicious death of a witness that saved him! I am as sure that he
killed his wife when the socalled 'accident' happened in the Splugen
Pass as if I had seen him do it. I knew, also, that he had come to
England and had a presentiment that sooner or later he would find me
some work to do. Well, what has Baron Gruner been up to? I presume it
is not this old tragedy which has come up again?"
"No, it is more serious than that. To revenge crime is important, but
to prevent it is more so. It is a terrible thing, Mr. Holmes, to see a
dreadful event, an atrocious situation, preparing itself before your
eyes, to clearly understand whither it will lead and yet to be utterly
unable to avert it. Can a human being be placed in a more trying
position?"
"Then you will sympathize with the client in whose interests I am
acting."
"I did not understand that you were merely an intermediary. Who is the
principal?"
"Mr. Holmes, I must beg you not to press that question. It is important
that I should be able to assure him that his honoured name has been in
no way dragged into the matter. His motives are, to the last degree,
honourable and chivalrous, but he prefers to remain unknown. I need not
say that your fees will be assured and that you will be given a
perfectly free hand. Surely the actual name of your client is
immaterial?"
"I am sorry," said Holmes. "I am accustomed to have mystery at one end
of my cases, but to have it at both ends is too confusing. I fear, Sir
James, that I must decline to act."
Our visitor was greatly disturbed. His large, sensitive face was
darkened with emotion and disappointment.
"You hardly realize the effect of your own action, Mr. Holmes," said
he. "You place me in a most serious dilemma for I am perfectly certain
that you would be proud to take over the case if I could give you the
facts, and yet a promise forbids me from revealing them all. May I, at
least, lay all that I can before you?"
"By all means, so long as it is understood that I commit myself to
nothing."
"That is understood. In the first place, you have no doubt heard of
General de Merville?"
"De Merville of Khyber fame? Yes, I have heard of him."
"He has a daughter, Violet de Merville, young, rich, beautiful,
accomplished, a wonder-woman in every way. It is this daughter, this
lovely, innocent girl, whom we are endeavouring to save from the
clutches of a fiend."
But it would not be
true. De Merville is a broken man. The strong soldier has been utterly
demoralized by this incident. He has lost the nerve which never failed
him on the battlefield and has become a weak, doddering old man,
utterly incapable of contending with a brilliant, forceful rascal like
this Austrian. My client however is an old friend, one who has known
the General intimately for many years and taken a paternal interest in
this young girl since she wore short frocks. He cannot see this tragedy
consummated without some attempt to stop it. There is nothing in which
Scotland Yard can act. It was his own suggestion that you should be
called in, but it was, as I have said, on the express stipulation that
he should not be personally involved in the matter. I have no doubt,
Mr. Holmes, with your great powers you could easily trace my client
back through me, but I must ask you, as a point of honour, to refrain
from doing so, and not to break in upon his incognito."
Holmes gave a whimsical smile.
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