Sherlock Holmes: Repeat Business. Lyn McConchie
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man Wilson has confessed that he knew James Melden was alive. It seems that James went to see him, privately offering to disappear again if Wilson would pay him a large sum of money in cash. He suggested that if he were not paid he would reappear to claim his wife and daughter back publicly. When Wilson still balked, Melden made it clear he was aware of his daughter’s impending marriage and also that this would be called off if the groom’s parents came to know the girl’s mother was a bigamist.”
“The blackguard!”
“Quite so,” McGeorge agreed. “That is the trouble. Any officer can see why Wilson should have killed the man. After that it seems that Melden lay low for a few days, letting Wilson consider what could become of the girl he thought of as a daughter. Once Wilson had had time to decide, Melden came again and asked for a decision. Wilson swears he had managed to gather most of the sum demanded and agreed to pay.”
“Then why would he have killed the man?”
Holmes roused himself. “My dear Watson, there are many obvious reasons. The man may have asked for a greater sum, he may have taken the money and then declared that he would still reappear, disgracing his wife and daughter. He may have spoken vilely of the women Wilson loved. You may be sure these points have occurred to the police.”
McGeorge nodded. “That is so. Wilson says that Melden came on time, took the money, and departed. Wilson remained in his shop considering whether he should reveal all to his wife. No one saw Melden leave, and Wilson says he left his shop late and went straight home. But we have two witnesses who are prepared to swear they saw Wilson leave and return to his place of business two hours earlier.
“The body of Melden was discovered in the alleyway which runs nearby, by a constable on his patrol only half an hour after the witnesses say they saw Wilson leave and return the first time. The dead man’s blood was still wet, showing his death had been very recent. It took some time to ascertain the man’s identity, but once we had the evidence, my superiors ordered that Wilson be arrested immediately.”
He face twisted in worry. “What can I do, Mr. Holmes? From all the evidence this man is guilty, yet somehow I am unconvinced. There was blood everywhere in the alley, but we have found none on any of Wilson’s clothing. My superior says only that he must have discarded his coat somewhere on the journey home. But he was wearing his usual coat when he returned, for a neighbor saw him arrive, and with the amount of blood, his boots too and even the legs of his trousers would have been stained—and they were not.
“We found the weapon, it was a knife of the common sort but well sharpened, and the blow which killed Melden was struck by a man skilled with such a weapon. I have found nothing in Wilson’s past to explain that. My superior says that any fool may be fortunate once, yet I am not convinced. And always the Duke is in the office talking, and each time my superior comes out with new reasons why Wilson must be guilty. So far I have managed to hold off from formal charges, saying we should have a watertight case since Wilson’s daughter is to marry young Ainsworth. Can you help me, Mr. Holmes?”
Holmes nodded slowly. “I believe I can. I have a few more inquiries to make, and then I may be able to place the solution in your hands. I have something I wish you to do for me first.” He looked at McGeorge, who nodded eagerly. “I wish you to find out what you can about two men. These are their names and details.” He passed over a piece of paper.
“I’ll do what I can, sir.”
“Then I’ll wish you a good day.”
I was all agog as McGeorge departed. “What were the names, Holmes?”
“A man called Archibald Carrol; the name of the other man varies, he has used more than one.”
I was puzzled. “I’ve heard nothing of any man by the name of Carrol in connection with the Wilson case, Holmes?”
“I assure you, my friend, both men have an intimate connection that shall be revealed in due course.” was all he would tell me at that time.
McGeorge called a day later and was admitted. “I have all you want sir, I think. Carrol was hung a year back for a killing while in prison, but the other was released early and is now using the other name which you gave me. I looked at his prison records and the man wasn’t due to be released for several years. I questioned that with the Governor and was told to mind my own business. I think someone of influence may have been involved.”
Amusement flickered briefly in my friend’s eyes. “You are probably right, McGeorge. But I’d recommend right now that you do as was suggested to you, and ask no more questions. I—and others—have an appointment to see your Commissioner tomorrow. You are to be there with us at two in the afternoon.”
I could see McGeorge was mystified, but he trusted Holmes. “I’ll be there, sir.”
“Good man.”
I spent the remainder of the evening thinking over events while Holmes read in silence. I could not see how anything we had done so far would free poor Wilson, but I too had confidence in Holmes. Just before we retired one of Holmes’ lads arrived. They spoke briefly before Holmes took possession of a bundle tied up clumsily but securely in brown paper and well-knotted string.
Holmes handed that to me the next day as we set out. “Give this to me when I request, my dear Watson. I think it may be safer with you.” I noticed that the bundle had been retied so as to appear smaller and now reposed within a bag from a popular shop.
In his own hands Holmes carried a bundle identical in appearance to the one Joe had handed over the previous night. I smiled, understanding the ruse. It was as well, since as we exited the hansom cab for our appointment a man dashed up, thrust my friend against the building, seized the parcel, and made off with it. I grinned at Holmes in satisfaction and received his nod of approval in return.
At precisely two o’clock we were shown into the rooms of the Commissioner of the London police. He was not alone; a man stood with him, and I recognized, if not who the Commissioner’s companion was, at least what he was; for only a nobleman would have such a bearing. The Commissioner gazed keenly at Holmes, looking disapprovingly at my bundle, then turned as McGeorge was shown in.
Holmes spoke first. “I have asked Officer McGeorge to be present, since what I am about to reveal concerns a case in which he has been deeply involved.”
“Very well, Mr. Holmes. But please be brief, I am a busy man with many calls upon my time.”
“As am I, Commissioner. But I will make this a short tale so far as I can. It concerns a man who, some years ago, was inadvertently caught up in an attempt to rob the bank a few doors from his shop. Mr. Jabez Wilson was made the victim of a scheme to have him out of the way, but being an honest and dogged man, he came to me to discover how, and why, he had been used in such a way.
“I was able to discover the plot, and the police imprisoned those involved, a man named Archibald Carrol, and another calling himself John Clay. Carrol subsequently killed a man in a prison brawl and was hanged, but Clay was later released and took up his original name of Jonathon Vincent.”
I saw the nobleman move slightly and Holmes turned to him. “An interesting name, is it not?” He received no reply and, after a few seconds, he continued.
“Meanwhile, Jabez Wilson met a widow with a young daughter and married her. The marriage was very happy until James Melden, her supposedly dead husband, returned. The man was a liar, a thief, and a scoundrel—and a would-be murderer. Mrs. Wilson had two unusual events occur to her shortly before the man’s death, once when a hansom attempted to run her down, the other when a pistol was discharged at her. Neither the driver of the cab nor the shooter was ever found by the police, although McGeorge assures me that you looked.
“I have read the father’s will and the conditions concerning his estate, and I believe it is within those conditions that the motive is hid. If Charlotte Wilson dies, the estate becomes the absolute property of her daughter—who is yet a minor. If Melden were then to reappear, the girl would be in his power and the money his. How long, think you, would the girl