Sherlock Holmes in Russia

A few minutes later we had left our hotel and each set out on his route. We had to hurry. The day was slowly drawing to a close and the stores were going to shut in a couple of hours.

Having been to four stores, I returned tired and bad-tempered, with nothing to show for my efforts. In all four I got either a direct refusal or I was offered a lesser quantity than I had asked for, though I was told that if I cared to wait, my order would be filled in no time at all.

Moreover, the book store owners, when I told them that I was opening my own business, assured me that if they were to get the book from the very same publishers I would have to go to myself, I wouldn’t be a kopeck worse off. The reason was that they were old customers, were given a sizable discount and they would pass the books on to me leaving for themselves a very small profit. But I’d be getting the books for the same price I’d have to pay the publisher. No matter how cunningly I tried, I could find nothing suspicious that could cast any light on the offer. Upset by my lack of success, I returned to my hotel room, took off my coat and lay down on the couch awaiting Holmes.

Darkness fell.

Sherlock Holmes returned at about eight. He came in with a bold step and from the look on his face I immediately saw that he was satisfied with his excursion.

‘A man’s eyes and face reflect his inner state,’ he said, looking at me with a smile, ‘and, hence, I am certain that you are angry at your lack of success.’

He hung his coat up and turned to me, ‘But that’s how it always is, dear Watson, we look for some item in ten places. It doesn’t mean it is in all of them at one and the same time. It has to be somewhere in a single place, and if two or three people were to go in different directions, one of them will certainly find what has been lost, unless, of course, someone has moved it somewhere else.’

‘From what you say, I conclude that your excursion has been, in any case, more successful,’ I said, feeling better. ‘No, really, Holmes, you’re lucky. Luck, real luck, dogs your footsteps whichever way you go. I really get to feel jealous, just thinking of your successes. Now, then, isn’t it just chance that on this occasion I got the four stores which had nothing suspicious.’

Holmes shrugged indifferently, ‘In solving crimes, blind chance often plays a leading role.’

*

IV

‘And, so, my dear Holmes, I hope that you will share with me the results of today’s labours,’ I said.

‘With pleasure, dear Doctor,’ he answered, sitting down in an armchair and stretching his long legs as was his usual habit.

‘Fediukoff’s store, which I went to first, proved to be without suspicion,’ he began. ‘But the second, belonging to a certain Nikanoroff, somewhat did confirm my suspicions There, I found some books I was after, and although the quantity I asked for happened to be considerably higher than their purchase from the publisher, nonetheless, I was handed the quantity I asked for. But most interesting was the fact that several copies were not bound and still in loose-leaf. Imagine my joy! Needless to say, not a single publisher would deliver for sale in such a form. And how could one explain that this sort of goods is being kept in a store, except that it wasn’t bought directly from a publisher. To put it bluntly, the book in question must have been obtained directly from the printer and binder, who stole it page by page. I asked Nikanoroff how come the book was not bound. He became embarrassed, said the books had been delivered in a hurry, and offered me a considerable discount. I hope he is now in my grasp, and tomorrow we’ll investigate him properly.’

‘Is he young?’ I asked.

‘Well, no,’ answered Sherlock Holmes. ‘I’d say, forty, and from his outward appearance, not someone I’d like to meet at night in a secluded place.’

‘What about the other stores?’

‘The fourth, belonging to a Semionoff, made me think all was not in order. The books are all bound, but they are in suspicious quantities, though, of course, that should not be enough to cast suspicion. Semionoff could very well argue that he bought the books from different publishers accidentally, not suspecting them to be stolen. Any accusation would fall apart.’

V

It was still quite early when Holmes woke me next morning. Opening my eyes, I was quite surprised to see an unfamiliar man with red hair and a thick red beard, wearing greasy, high boots and a red calico shirt showing from under his waistcoat.

‘What do you want?’ I asked, for some reason taking him for a labourer from outside.

The big chap fell about laughing.

‘Oh, damn!’ I exclaimed, recognizing my friend from his laugh. ‘By God, Holmes, you disguise yourself so well every time, the best detective wouldn’t know you.’