The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - The Stalwart Companions by H. Paul Jeffers

Author:H. Paul Jeffers
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781848565098
Publisher: Titan Books
Published: 2010-03-09T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

What a tragic occurrence,” commented Samuel J. Tilden as he admitted Sherlock Holmes and me into the ornately decorated parlour of his impressive house. “I was not here last night, as you may know, but on learning of the event I came in from my country estate in Yonkers immediately.”

“Did you know that Tebbel, the man who was murdered, had been on his way to this very house at the time of his death?” asked Holmes. “I can see from your reaction that you did not know this!” he added.

“Indeed not! What an extraordinary thing!”

Tilden, who was by nature a nervous man given to awkward movements, stood by the fireplace and peered into the dark and cold hearth, his broad, intellectual brow knitted with worry. Tilden was unimpressive in physical appearance, but it had not been his physical personality that had made him an outstanding corporate lawyer, sagacious financier and successful political leader. It was the intellect behind that broad brow, those large blue eyes. A soft-spoken man, he would not have been a man one would have expected to succeed in politics where a forceful podium style is required.

“Something troubles you,” observed Holmes, which seemed a superfluous remark in view of the fact that a man had been shot to death on Tilden’s doorstep.

“I believe the man who was killed had attempted to communicate with me prior to last evening,” Tilden said quietly.

“How did he try to communicate with you?” asked Holmes anxiously.

“There was a very peculiar letter delivered to my door two or three days ago by a messenger boy. I glanced at it only, because I was just leaving for ‘Greystone.’ That’s the name of my Yonkers estate. Like so many requests for meetings and audiences, this letter asked to see me on a matter described as important. Well, I have long recognised that the word important has been corrupted through misuse. Unfortunately it is the lot of any wealthy man, but especially one in politics, to find himself confronted at every turn with favour seekers. I will tell you a secret! I have had built into the cellar of this house a tunnel that lets me escape out the back when someone is at the front whom I don’t wish to see.”

“Very enterprising,” smiled Holmes. “Why do you believe that the message that came a few days ago was from the man who was murdered last night?”

“You said his name was Tebbel?”

“Yes.”

“That was the name on the letter.”

“Have you that letter?”

“In all probability,” said Tilden, crossing the parlour to a pull-cord to summon a servant, to whom Tilden described the message in question. Yes, said the servant – an elderly black man, the message was with other similar ones in the library.

Fetching it, the servant handed it to Tilden, who agreed that it was the very letter. He passed it to Holmes.

“Tebbel’s name, all right,” muttered Holmes.

Peering over Holmes’ shoulder, I was able to read the typewritten letter:

Dear Mr Tildin: I have to sea you on a matter of great importins.

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