Sherlock Holmes and the Beryl Coronet

"Holmes," I said, as I stood in our room looking down the street, "there's a madman coming."

My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands in the pockets of his dressing gown, looking over my shoulder. It was a bright February morning and the snow from the day before still lay deep on the ground.

He was a man of about fifty, tall, with a strong face. He was running hard, like a man who's not used to using his legs.

"He's looking at the numbers of the houses."

"I believe he's coming here," said Holmes. "I think he wants my professional advice." As he spoke, the man rang our doorbell.

A few moments later he was in our room, still breathing hard but with such a look of despair in his eyes that our smiles turned to pity. For a while he couldn't speak. Holmes pushed him into an easy chair and, sitting beside him, chatted in the soothing tones he knew so well how to use.

"You've come to me to tell your story," he said. "Running has made you tired. Wait until you've recovered and then I'll be happy to hear anything you tell me."

The man sat for a minute or more fighting against his emotion. Then he turned towards us.

"I could face public disgrace. Private sadness touches every man, but the two coming together will destroy me. Besides, I am not alone. The most important people in the land may suffer unless some way can be found out of this horrible affair."

"Please don't worry," said Holmes, "and tell me clearly who you are and what's happened."

"You probably know my name," answered our visitor, "I'm Alexander Holder, of the banking firm of Holder & Stevenson."

The name was well known to us as the largest private bank in London. We waited until, with another effort, he continued.

"Time is important," he said. "That's why I hurried here when the police inspector suggested I ask for your help.

"Yesterday morning I was in my office at the bank when a business card was brought to me by one of the clerks. I was shocked when I saw the name, for it was one of the best-known in England. He spoke at once about business, like a man who wants to hurry through a disagreeable task.

"'Mr. Holder,' he said, 'I've been told you lend money.'

"'The bank does when the security is good.' I answered.

"'It’s essential,' he continued, 'I should have 50,000 pounds until next Monday.'

"'I’d be happy to advance it' I said, ‘if I have security.'

Lifting a square, black case from beside his chair, he said, 'You’ve heard of the Beryl Coronet?'

"He opened the case, and there was the magnificent piece of jewellery. 'There are thirty-nine enormous beryls,' he said. 'The lowest estimate would put the coronet at double the sum I've asked.'

I'm prepared to leave it with you as my security.' "Seeing that my client wanted to leave, I called a cashier and told him to pay fifty 1000 pound notes. When I was alone again, however, with the coronet on the table in front of me, I couldn't help thinking of the huge responsibility.

"There was no doubt, as it was a national treasure, a scandal would follow if anything happened. I already regretted taking it. However, it was too late to change that now, so I locked it in my safe. But when evening came, I felt it would be foolish to leave it in the office. Banks have been robbed before now, why shouldn't mine be? I decided I'd carry the case with me for the next few days. I got a cab to my house just outside London, carrying it with me. I didn't breathe freely until I'd locked it in my study.

"And now a word about my house, Mr. Holmes. I have a maid, Lucy Parr, who's only been with me a few months. She's a very pretty girl and has a boyfriend who occasionally visits our place. That's the only drawback we have found with her, but we believe her a thoroughly good girl in every way.

"My family is so small that it won't take me long to describe it. I'm a widower and have an only son, Arthur. He's been a disappointment to me, Mr. Holmes. I have no doubt I am to blame. When my dear wife died I felt that he was all I had to love. I couldn't bear to see the smile leave his face.

"I planned for him to follow me in my business, but he's wild and, to tell the truth, I can't trust him with money. When he was young, he became a member of an exclusive club and made friends with men with expensive habits. He learnt to play cards and waste money on horse racing, until he had to come to me again and again for cash. He tried to break away from the company he was keeping, but each time his friend, Sir George Burnwell, pulled him back again.

"In fact, I wasn't surprised Sir George Burnwell influenced him, for he has often brought him to my house and I've found him fascinating. He's older than Arthur, a man of the world who's been everywhere, seen everything, a brilliant talker and very handsome. Yet, I'm convinced from the look I've often seen in his eyes that he can't be trusted.

"And now I only need to describe Mary. She's my niece but when my brother died five years ago and left her alone in the world I adopted her and have looked on her ever since as my daughter. She is loving, beautiful, a wonderful housekeeper, yet as quiet and gentle as a woman could be. She's my right hand. I don't know what I would do without her. She's only gone against my wishes in one thing. Twice my boy has asked her to marry him because he loves her madly, but she's refused him.

"Now, Mr. Holmes, you know the people who live under my roof and I'll continue my miserable story.

"When we were having coffee that night after dinner, I told Arthur and Mary about the treasure, only leaving out the name of my client. Lucy Parr, who brought in the coffee, had left the room, but I can't swear the door was closed. Mary and Arthur were very interested and wanted to see the famous coronet, but I thought it better not to disturb it.

"'Well, I hope the house won't be burgled during the night,' Arthur said.

"'It's locked in my desk,' I answered.

"'Oh, any key will fit that desk. When I was a youngster I opened it myself with the cupboard key.'

"He often had a wild way of talking, so I thought little about it. He followed me to my room, however, with a very serious face.

"'Look here, dad,' he said, looking down, 'can you let me have 200 pounds?'

"'No, I can’t!' I answered sharply. 'I’ve been too generous with you already.'

"'You've been very kind,' he said, 'but I must have this money or I can never show my face in the club again. I couldn't bear the disgrace. I must raise the money some way.'

"I was very angry, for this was the third demand that month. 'You won't have a penny from me,' I shouted. He left the room without another word.

"When he was gone I unlocked my desk, made sure my treasure was safe and locked it again. Then I started to go round the house to see that everything was safe. As I came down the stairs, I saw Mary at the window, which she locked as I got near her.

"'Tell me, dad,' she said, looking a little disturbed, 'did you give Lucy, the maid, permission to go out tonight? She came in just now by the back door. I have no doubt that she’s only been to the gate to see someone, but it isn’t safe and should be stopped.'

"'You must speak to her in the morning or I will, if you prefer. Are you sure that everything is locked?'

"'Quite sure, dad.'

"'Then, good-night.' I kissed her and went up to my bedroom again, where I was soon asleep. I'm not a very heavy sleeper. About two in the morning, I was woken by a sound in the house. I lay listening. Suddenly, there were footsteps moving softly in the next room. I got out of bed, shaking with fear, and looked round my study.

"'Arthur!' I screamed, 'You thief! How dare you touch that coronet?'

"My boy, dressed only in his shirt and trousers, was standing holding the coronet in his hands. He appeared to be pulling at it with all his strength. When I shouted, he dropped it and turned as pale as death. I picked it up and examined it. One of the gold corners, with three beryls in it, was missing.

"I shouted with rage. 'You've destroyed it! Where are the jewels you’ve stolen?'

"'Stolen!' he cried. 'There are none missing. There can't be any missing,' he said.

"'There are three missing. And you know where they are. Must I call you a liar as well as a thief? Didn’t I see you trying to break off another piece?'

"'You've called me enough names,' he said, 'I won't stand it any longer. I shan't say another word about this business, since you've chosen to insult me. I’ll leave your house in the morning forever.'

"'You’ll leave it in the hands of the police!' I cried mad with rage. 'I’ll have this matter examined very carefully.'

"'You’ll learn nothing from me,' he said with more passion than I thought he had in him. 'If you choose to call the police, let them find out what they can.'

"By this time the whole house was awake, for I had raised my voice in my anger. Mary was the first to rush into my room and, at the sight of the coronet and Arthur's face, she read the whole story and, with a scream, fainted. I sent the maid for the police and put the investigation into their hands at once. It had stopped being a private matter and become a public one, since the ruined coronet was national property.

"'At least,' said he, 'you won't have me arrested at once. It would be to your advantage and mine if I left the house for five minutes.'

"'So you can get away or perhaps hide what you've stolen,' I said. And then I said he must let us know where the beryls were and everything would be forgiven and forgotten.'

"'Keep your forgiveness for those who ask for it,' he answered, turning away from me. I saw that he was too hardened for my words to influence him. I called in the inspector. The police searched my son and his room and every part of the house where he could have hidden the gems; but there was no sign of them and my boy wouldn't open his mouth. This morning he was taken to a cell. You may spend anything you think necessary. I've already offered a reward of 1,000 pounds. I've lost my honour, the gems and my son in one night."

Sherlock Holmes sat silent for some minutes.

"Do you get much company?" he asked.

"None except for an occasional friend of Arthur's. Sir George Burnwell has been several times lately. Nobody else, I think."

"Do you go out much?"

"Arthur does. Mary and I stay at home."

"That's unusual for a young girl."

"She's quiet. Besides, she's not so very young. She's twenty-four."

"This seems to have been a shock to her too. Neither of you have any doubt about your son's guilt?"

"How can we have when I saw him with my own eyes with the coronet in his hands?"

"Was the rest of the coronet damaged?"

"Yes."

"Don't you think, then, that he might have been trying to straighten it?"

"Thank-you! You are doing what you can for him and for me. But it's impossible. What was he doing there at all? If he's innocent, why didn't he say so?"

"Precisely. And if he's guilty, why didn't he lie? What did the police think about the noise that woke you up?"

"They thought it might be Arthur closing his bedroom door."

"A likely story! As if a thief would slam his door to wake a sleeping house! What did they say about the disappearance of the gems?"

"They're still searching the furniture in the hope of finding them."

"Have they thought of looking outside the house?"

"Yes. The whole garden has already been examined."

"Now," said Holmes, "isn't it obvious to you that this is more complicated than either you or the police first thought? It seemed to you a simple case; to me it seems complex. Consider your theory. You suppose your son came down from his bed, went, at great risk, to your study, opened your desk, took out the coronet, broke a small part of it, went to some other place, hid three gems out of the thirty-nine with such skill that nobody can find them, and then returned with the other thirty-six to the room where he was in the greatest danger. I ask you, is your theory reasonable?"

"But what other theory is there?" asked the banker in despair. "If his motives were innocent, why doesn't he explain them?"

"It's our task to find that out," replied Holmes. "So now, Mr. Holder, we'll set off for your home together and look more closely into the details."

Holmes didn't speak the whole way, but sat thinking deeply. He left us standing at the door and walked slowly round the house and garden. He was so long that Mr. Holder and I went into the dining-room and waited by the fire until he returned. We were sitting there in silence when the door opened and a young lady came in. She was tall, slim, with dark hair and eyes. I don't think I've ever seen such deadly paleness in a woman's face. Her lips, too, were bloodless, but her eyes were red with crying. She went straight to her uncle and passed her hand gently over his head.

"You've given orders that Arthur should be freed, haven't you, dad?" she asked. "I'm sure he's innocent. I know he's done nothing wrong and that you'll be sorry for being so harsh."

"Why is he silent, then, if he's innocent?"

"Who knows? Perhaps because he was so angry that you should suspect him."

"How could I help suspecting him, when I actually saw him with the coronet in his hand?"

"Oh, but he'd only picked it up to look at it. Oh, trust me that he's innocent. It's terrible to think of our Arthur in prison!"

"I've brought a gentleman from London to investigate the case."

"This gentleman?" she asked, facing me.

"No, his friend. He wanted us to leave him alone. He's in the garden now."

"The garden?" She raised her dark eyebrows. "What can he hope to find there? Ah! Here he is! I hope you'll succeed in proving that my cousin Arthur is innocent of this crime."

"I share your opinion," Holmes replied. "Miss Holder, can I ask you a question or two? You heard nothing yourself last night?"

"Nothing, until my uncle began to shout. I heard that and came downstairs."

"You shut the windows and doors the night before. Did you lock all the windows?"

"Yes."

"Were they all locked this morning?"

"Yes."

"You have a maid who has a boyfriend? I think you told your uncle last night that she'd been out to see him?"

"Yes, and she was the girl who may have heard uncle's remarks about the coronet."

"I see. You're suggesting that she told her boyfriend and that they planned the robbery."

"But what's the good of all these vague theories," asked the banker impatiently, "when I saw Arthur with the coronet in his hands?"

"Wait a little, Mr. Holder. We must come back to that. About this girl, Miss Holder. You saw her return by the kitchen door, I suppose?"

"Yes; when I went to see if the door was locked for the night, I met her coming in. I saw the man too."

"Do you know him?"

"Oh, yes! He's the local greengrocer."

"He stood," said Holmes, "to the left of the door – farther up the path.”

"Yes, he did."

"And he's got a wooden leg?"

Something like fear appeared in the young lady's black eyes. "Why, you're like a magician," she said. "How do you know that?" She smiled, but there was no answering smile in Holmes' thin face.

"I'd like to see upstairs," he said. "But I'd better take a look at the downstairs windows before I go up."

He walked quickly round from one to the other, pausing only at the large one. This he opened and made a very careful examination with his magnifying lens. "Now we'll go upstairs," he said at last.

The banker's study was plainly furnished with a grey carpet, a large desk and a long mirror. Holmes went to the desk first and looked at the lock.

"Which key was used to open it?" he asked.

"The one for the cupboard that my son mentioned."

"Have you got it here?"

"That's it on the table."

Sherlock Holmes picked it up and opened the desk.

"It opens silently," he said. "No wonder it didn't wake you up. This case, I suppose, contains the coronet. We must have a look at it." He opened the case and laid the coronet on the table. It was magnificent. At one side of the coronet was a cracked edge, where a corner had been broken off.

"Now, Mr. Holder," said Holmes, "I'm going to try to break another piece off." Holmes suddenly put all his strength on it, but couldn't break it. "Although my hands are exceptionally strong, it would take me sometime to break it. An ordinary man couldn't do it. Now, what do you think would happen if it broke, Mr. Holder? There would be a noise like a pistol shot. Are you telling me that all this happened near your bed and that you heard nothing?"

"I don't know what to think."

"Your son had no shoes or slippers on when you saw him?"

"Only his trousers and shirt."

He went outside again, alone, for he explained that any unnecessary footmarks might make his task more difficult. For an hour or more he was at work.

"I think I've now seen all there is to see, Mr. Holder," he said; "I'll go back to my rooms."

"But the gems, Mr. Holmes. Where are they?"

"I can't say."

The banker cried, "I'll never see them again! And my son? Is there any hope?"

"My opinion is unchanged. If you can call at my rooms tomorrow morning between nine and ten, I'll be happy to make the case clearer. I understand you give me permission to act for you, provided that I get back the gems, and that you place no limit on the money I may spend."

"I'd give my fortune to have them back."

"Very good. I'll look into the matter. Good-bye. It's possible I may come here again before evening."

It was obvious that my friend had made up his mind about the case, although I had no idea what his conclusions were. Several times during our homeward journey I tried to speak about it, but he always moved to some other topic until at last I gave up. It was not yet three when we found ourselves in our rooms once more. He hurried to his bedroom and was back in a few minutes dressed as a tramp. With his dirty coat and his worn boots, he looked the part.

"I think this should do," he said, glancing into the mirror above the fireplace. "I only wish you could come with me, Watson. I hope to be back in a few hours." He cut a slice of beef, sandwiched it between two slices of bread, and putting this into his pocket he started off.

I had just finished my tea when he returned in excellent spirits but with an old boot in his hand. He threw it down and helped himself to a cup of tea.

"I only looked in as I'm passing," said he. "I'm going right away."

"Where to?"

"Oh, to the other side of London. It may be some time before I'm back. Don't wait up for me in case I'm late."

"How are you getting on?"

"Oh, so so. Nothing to complain of. However, I must not sit here gossiping, but get these old clothes off and return to my respectable self."

I could see he was satisfied: his eyes sparkled and there was even a touch of colour on his cheeks. He hurried upstairs and a few minutes later I heard the slam of the hall door, which told me that he was out again.

I waited until midnight but there was no sign of his return, so I went to my room. It was not unusual for him to be away for days and nights on end when he was solving a mystery, so his lateness didn't surprise me. I don't know what time he came in, but when I went to breakfast in the morning there he was with a cup of coffee in one hand and the paper in the other, as our friend, the banker, came in.

I was shocked by the change which had come over him, for his face was fallen in, while his hair seemed at least a shade whiter.

"Only two days ago I was a happy man, without a care in the world. Now I'm left to a lonely old age," he said. "My niece, Mary, has left me. Her bed this morning hadn't been slept in, her room was empty and a note for me lay on the hall table. I'll read it to you:

"'Uncle, I have brought trouble on you. So, I cannot ever again be happy under your roof and I must leave forever. Don't worry about my future and, above all, don't search for me. In life or in death, I am your loving Mary.'

"What could she mean, Mr. Holmes?"

"It's perhaps the best possible solution. I trust, Mr. Holder, you are nearing the end of your troubles."

"Ha! You say so! You've heard something, Mr. Holmes; you've learnt something! Where are the gems?"

"You wouldn't think 1000 pounds each too much money to pay for them?"

"I'd pay ten thousand."

"That's unnecessary. Three thousand will cover it. Have you got your cheque book? Better make it out for 4000 pounds."

With a dazed face, the banker wrote the cheque. Holmes walked over to his desk, took out a little triangular piece of gold with three gems in it and threw it on the table.

With a shout of happiness our client picked it up.

"You've got it! I'm saved!"

"There's one other thing you owe, Mr. Holder," said Sherlock Holmes.

He picked up a pen. "Name the sum and I'll pay it."

"No, the debt isn't to me. You owe an apology to your son, who has behaved like a true gentleman."

"Then it wasn't Arthur who took them?"

"I told you yesterday and I repeat today that it was not."

"Tell me, then, what is this extraordinary mystery?"

"I'll tell you and show you how I realised too. But let me say, first, the hardest thing for you to hear: there has been an understanding between Sir George Burnwell and your niece Mary. They've now run away together."

"My Mary? Impossible!"

"It's unfortunately certain. Neither you nor your son knew the true character of this man when you let him into your family. He's a ruined gambler, a criminal, a man without heart or conscience. Your niece knew nothing of such men. She thought she'd touched his heart."

"I cannot and will not believe it!" cried the banker with an ashen face.

"I'll tell you what happened in your house last night. Your niece went downstairs again when you'd gone to your room, and talked to her lover through the window. His footmarks had pressed right through the snow, he stood there so long. She told him about the coronet. I have no doubt she loved you, but her love for him was stronger. She was listening to his instructions when she saw you coming downstairs, closed the window quickly and told you about one of the servants and her wooden-legged lover, which was all true.

"Your boy, Arthur, went to bed after asking you for money but he slept badly on account of his debts. In the middle of the night he heard a soft step pass his door, so he got up and was surprised to see his cousin walking along the passage until she disappeared into your study. Astonished, the lad put on some clothes and waited in the dark to see what would happen. Soon she came out of the room again and your son saw her carrying the coronet. She went downstairs and he ran along and saw her silently open the window, hand out the coronet to someone in the darkness and then hurry back to her room.

"As long as she was on the scene he couldn't take any action without exposing the woman he loved. But the moment she was gone he realised how great a misfortune this would be for you, and knew he had to put it right. In his bare feet, he opened the window, jumped out into the snow and ran down the lane, where he could see a dark figure in the moonlight.

"Sir George Burnwell tried to get away, but Arthur caught him, and there was a struggle between them, your lad pulling at one side of the coronet, and Sir George at the other. In the fight, your son hit Sir George and cut him over the eye. Then something suddenly snapped and your son, finding that he had the coronet in his hands, rushed back, closed the window, went to your room and had just noticed that the coronet had been twisted in the struggle and was trying to straighten it when you arrived.

"You then made him angry by calling him names at a moment when he felt he deserved your thanks. He couldn't explain what had really happened without betraying Mary. He kept her secret."

"And that was why she fainted when she saw the coronet," cried Mr. Holder. "What a fool I've been! And he asked to go out for five minutes! The lad wanted to see if the missing piece was at the scene of the struggle."

"When I arrived at the house," continued Holmes, "I went very carefully round it to observe if there were any traces in the snow which might help me. At the kitchen door, a woman had stood and talked with a man, whose marks in the snow showed he had a wooden leg. This was the maid and her boyfriend you'd already spoken about. But there were other marks in the snow. There was a double line of footsteps of a man wearing boots, and a second double line which I saw belonged to a man with bare feet. I was convinced that this was your son.

"I followed the marks and found they led to the hall window, where Boots had worn all the snow away waiting. Then I walked to the other end and saw where Boots had turned round, where there had been a struggle and, finally, where a few drops of blood had fallen, to show me that I was not mistaken. Boots had then run down the lane and another little spot of blood showed it was he who'd been hurt.

"A man had waited outside the window; someone had brought the gems, watched secretly by your son. He'd followed the thief, had struggled with him and broken the coronet. He had returned with the prize but had left a corner of it with Sir George.

"It's an old saying of mine that when you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Now, I knew that it wasn't you who'd brought it down, so that left your niece and the maids. But if it were the maids, why should your son not say something to the police? There could be no possible reason. As he loved his cousin, however, there was an excellent explanation why he should keep her secret. When I remembered you'd seen her at that window and she'd fainted on seeing the coronet again, my guess became a certainty.

"And who could her partner be? A lover! I knew you went out very little and your only recent guest was Sir George Burnwell. It must have been him who wore those boots and had the missing gems. Even though Arthur had discovered him, he knew he was safe because the lad couldn't say a word without hurting his own family.

"Well, I went, dressed like a tramp, to Sir George's house, made friends with a servant there, learnt that Sir George had cut his head the night before and, finally, bought a pair of his old shoes. With these I went to your house again and saw that these boots exactly fitted the footsteps.

"I had my man, so I came home and changed my clothes. Then, I went to see him. At first, of course, he denied everything. I told him we would pay him 1000 each for the stones he had.

"'Damn' he said, 'I've sold all three for six hundred!' I soon managed to get the buyer's address and, after a lot of bargaining, I got our stones for 3000. Then I looked in on your son, told him that everything was alright and eventually got to bed about two o'clock, after a really hard day's work."

"Sir, I cannot find words to thank you. But now I must run to my boy to apologise. As for poor Mary, not even your skill can tell me where she is now."

"I think we can say," replied Holmes, "that she is wherever Sir George Burnwell is. It is equally certain that he will soon leave her."