More From the Deed Box of John H. Watson M.D. by Hugh Ashton

Author:Hugh Ashton [Ashton, Hugh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-912605-16-3
Publisher: j-views Publishing

The descriptions of the cellar both as a “vault” and as a “museum” certainly had much to commend them. The entrance to the cellar was guarded by a solid door, some six inches in thickness, and secured by a complex combination lock. Once inside the cellar, I was astounded, as was Holmes, insofar as I could judge by his reaction, by the works of art contained therein.

Three of the walls were lined with glass cases, containing small paintings, works of art, illuminated books from a bygone age, and gold and silver ornaments, most of them with a religious origin. A few weapons, mainly jewelled daggers and the like, also graced the cases. Larger paintings of a primitive medieval style hung above the cases, and though I would not pretend to expertise in the field, they seemed to me to be of Italian origin. The fourth wall facing the door had no cases arranged along its length, but was lined by a row of some dozen statues depicting angels playing musical instruments, each about four feet in height. There was a gap in the middle of the line of statues, and I immediately guessed that this space had been filled by the statue responsible for Faulkes’ death.

Holmes stopped in the doorway, and looked around him.

“It is quite a sight, is it not, Mr. Holmes?” said Gregson, smiling.

“Indeed it is,” he replied. “I am not surprised at the servants’ name for this room. This is an impressive door indeed.” He swung the heavy door closed, and as gently as it closed, there was a distinctive thud as it swung ponderously into its frame. “Let us open it again,” he said, tugging at the handle. As the door swung open, there was a loud creaking sound from the hinges. “As the good Simpkins remarked, it is a most distinctive sound, and I am reasonably certain that he would have noticed it had the door been opened again after Faulkes had returned here.” He walked slowly about the room, examining the display of curios, his hands clasped behind his back. “Has anything been removed, do you know?”

“I see no obvious gaps in the cases,” replied Gregson. “All are locked, and none has been forced. I detect no sign of any object or painting hanging on the wall having being removed.”

“You would rule out robbery as a motive, then?” asked Holmes.

“I cannot be completely certain as yet. The ledger upstairs appears to be a meticulous record of all the objects contained in this room. I will naturally have a check made of the contents of the room and compared to the lists in the ledger. I will be surprised, though, if there is any discrepancy.”

“I too,” remarked Holmes. “However, I commend your attention to detail in making such a check.” He broke off suddenly. “How is this room ventilated?” he asked Gregson. “I take it that these gas lamps have been burning continuously since the body was discovered, and therefore since yesterday evening?”

“We have not touched them,” confirmed Gregson.

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