The Adventure of the Bruce Partington Plans
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Sir Arthur Conan Doyle >> The Adventure of the Bruce Partington Plans
One of the most remarkable characteristics of Sherlock Holmes was
his power of throwing his brain out of action and switching all
his thoughts on to lighter things whenever he had convinced
himself that he could no longer work to advantage. I remember
that during the whole of that memorable day he lost himself in a
monograph which he had undertaken upon the Polyphonic Motets of
Lassus. For my own part I had none of this power of detachment,
and the day, in consequence, appeared to be interminable. The
great national importance of the issue, the suspense in high
quarters, the direct nature of the experiment which we were
trying--all combined to work upon my nerve. It was a relief to
me when at last, after a light dinner, we set out upon our
expedition. Lestrade and Mycroft met us by appointment at the
outside of Gloucester Road Station. The area door of Oberstein's
house had been left open the night before, and it was necessary
for me, as Mycroft Holmes absolutely and indignantly declined to
climb the railings, to pass in and open the hall door. By nine
o'clock we were all seated in the study, waiting patently for our
man.
An hour passed and yet another. When eleven struck, the measured
beat of the great church clock seemed to sound the dirge of our
hopes. Lestrade and Mycroft were fidgeting in their seats and
looking twice a minute at their watches. Holmes sat silent and
composed, his eyelids half shut, but every sense on the alert.
He raised his head with a sudden jerk.
"He is coming," said he.
There had been a furtive step past the door. Now it returned.
We heard a shuffling sound outside, and then two sharp taps with
the knocker. Holmes rose, motioning us to remain seated. The gas
in the hall was a mere point of light. He opened the outer door,
and then as a dark figure slipped past him he closed and fastened
it. "This way!" we heard him say, and a moment later our man
stood before us. Holmes had followed him closely, and as the man
turned with a cry of surprise and alarm he caught him by the
collar and threw him back into the room. Before our prisoner had
recovered his balance the door was shut and Holmes standing with
his back against it. The man glared round him, staggered, and
fell senseless upon the floor. With the shock, his broad-brimmed
hat flew from his head, his cravat slipped sown from his lips,
and there were the long light beard and the soft, handsome
delicate features of Colonel Valentine Walter.
Holmes gave a whistle of surprise.
"You can write me down an ass this time, Watson," said he. "This
was not the bird that I was looking for."
"Who is he?" asked Mycroft eagerly.
"The younger brother of the late Sir James Walter, the head of
the Submarine Department. Yes, yes; I see the fall of the cards.
He is coming to. I think that you had best leave his examination
to me."
We had carried the prostrate body to the sofa. Now our prisoner
sat up, looked round him with a horror-stricken face, and passed
his hand over his forehead, like one who cannot believe his own
senses.
"What is this?" he asked. "I came here to visit Mr. Oberstein."
"Everything is known, Colonel Walter," said Holmes. "How an
English gentleman could behave in such a manner is beyond my
comprehension. But your whole correspondence and relations with
Oberstein are within our knowledge. So also are the
circumstances connected with the death of young Cadogan West.
Let me advise you to gain at least the small credit for
repentance and confession, since there are still some details
which we can only learn from your lips."
The man groaned and sank his face in his hands. We waited, but
he was silent.
"I can assure you," said Holmes, "that every essential is already
known. We know that you were pressed for money; that you took an
impress of the keys which your brother held; and that you entered
into a correspondence with Oberstein, who answered your letters
through the advertisement columns of the Daily Telegraph. We are
aware that you went down to the office in the fog on Monday
night, but that you were seen and followed by young Cadogan West,
who had probably some previous reason to suspect you. He saw
your theft, but could not give the alarm, as it was just possible
that you were taking the papers to your brother in London.
Leaving all his private concerns, like the good citizen that he
was, he followed you closely in the fog and kept at your heels
until you reached this very house. There he intervened, and then
it was, Colonel Walter, that to treason you added the more
terrible crime of murder."
"I did not! I did not! Before God I swear that I did not!"
cried our wretched prisoner.
"Tell us, then, how Cadogan West met his end before you laid him
upon the roof of a railway carriage."
"I will. I swear to you that I will. I did the rest. I confess
it. It was just as you say. A Stock Exchange debt had to be
paid. I needed the money badly. Oberstein offered me five
thousand. It was to save myself from ruin. But as to murder, I
am as innocent as you."
"What happened, then?"
"He had his suspicions before, and he followed me as you
describe. I never knew it until I was at the very door. It was
thick fog, and one could not see three yards. I had given two
taps and Oberstein had come to the door. The young man rushed up
and demanded to know what we were about to do with the papers.
Oberstein had a short life-preserver. He always carried it with
him. As West forced his way after us into the house Oberstein
struck him on the head. The blow was a fatal one. He was dead
within five minutes. There he lay in the hall, and we were at
our wit's end what to do. Then Oberstein had this idea about the
trains which halted under his back window. But first he examined
the papers which I had brought. He said that three of them were
essential, and that he must keep them. 'You cannot keep them,'
said I. 'There will be a dreadful row at Woolwich if they are
not returned.' 'I must keep them,' said he, 'for they are so
technical that it is impossible in the time to make copies.'
'Then they must all go back together to-night,' said I. He
thought for a little, and then he cried out that he had it.
'Three I will keep,' said he. 'The others we will stuff into the
pocket of this young man. When he is found the whole business
will assuredly be put to his account.' I could see no other way
out of it, so we did as he suggested. We waited half an hour at
the window before a train stopped. It was so thick that nothing
could be seen, and we had no difficulty in lowering West's body
on to the train. That was the end of the matter so far as I was
concerned."
"And your brother?"
"He said nothing, but he had caught me once with his keys, and I
think that he suspected. I read in his eyes that he suspected.
As you know, he never held up his head again."
There was silence in the room. It was broken by Mycroft Holmes.
"Can you not make reparation? It would ease your conscience, and
possibly your punishment."
"What reparation can I make?"
"Where is Oberstein with the papers?"
"I do not know."
"Did he give you no address?"
"He said that letters to the Hotel du Louvre, Paris, would
eventually reach him."
"Then reparation is still within your power," said Sherlock
Holmes.
"I will do anything I can. I owe this fellow no particular good-
will. He has been my ruin and my downfall."
"Here are paper and pen. Sit at this desk and write to my
dictation. Direct the envelope to the address given. That is
right. Now the letter:
"Dear Sir:
"With regard to our transaction, you will no doubt have observed
by now that one essential detail is missing. I have a tracing
which will make it complete. This has involved me in extra
trouble, however, and I must ask you for a further advance of
five hundred pounds. I will not trust it to the post, nor will I
take anything but gold or notes. I would come to you abroad, but
it would excite remark if I left the country at present.
Therefore I shall expect to meet you in the smoking-room of the
Charing Cross Hotel at noon on Saturday. Remember that only
English notes, or gold, will be taken.
"That will do very well. I shall be very much surprised if it
does not fetch our man."
And it did! It is a matter of history--that secret history of a
nation which is often so much more intimate and interesting than
its public chronicles--that Oberstein, eager to complete the coup
of his lifetime, came to the lure and was safely engulfed for
fifteen years in a British prison. In his trunk were found the
invaluable Bruce-Partington plans, which he had put up for
auction in all the naval centres of Europe.
Colonel Walter died in prison towards the end of the second year
of his sentence. As to Holmes, he returned refreshed to his
monograph upon the Polyphonic Motets of Lassus, which has since
been printed for private circulation, and is said by experts to
be the last word upon the subject. Some weeks afterwards I
learned incidentally that my friend spent a day at Windsor,
whence be returned with a remarkably fine emerald tie-pin. When
I asked him if he had bought it, he answered that it was a
present from a certain gracious lady in whose interests he had
once been fortunate enough to carry out a small commission. He
said no more; but I fancy that I could guess at that lady's
august name, and I have little doubt that the emerald pin will
forever recall to my friend's memory the adventure of the Bruce-
Partington plans.