Sherlock Holmes in Russia

I

This incident, illustrating the extraordinary perceptiveness of Sherlock Holmes, took place some ten years before the Russo-Japanese War, so disastrous for Russia.

Having visited all the major centres of European Russia, Sherlock Holmes decided to visit Russia’s possessions in Asia, which he had wanted to see for so long. I must confess that for me, Siberia represented an especially interesting part of the world. Legends and the most incredible stories were rife in England about it.

Hence, it was not surprising that, no sooner had Holmes mentioned his desire to travel there, not only did I joyfully agree to accompany him, but in every possible way urged our departure. I was afraid he might change his mind or become occupied by fresh cases which were offered from all sides in Russia.

Sherlock Holmes certainly understood what I was trying to do and scoffed good-naturedly at my impatience. Nonetheless, this impatience worked on him. And so, he turned down several lucrative but not very interesting cases, purchased the necessaries for a prolonged trip, and laid preparations for it. When at last the Siberian train left the station at Moscow, I breathed joyfully, now that my long-held wish was to come about.

The Volga River flashed by, the steppes of the Ufim province lay behind, for several hours we took in the splendid views of the Ural Mountains and then the train swept into the Siberian vastness.

Despite our expectations, we did not encounter polar bears anywhere, nor wild natives of whom French tourists wrote that they devoured not only each other but even their own children. It turned out to be like any other land mass, except that it was slovenly, muddled, sparsely inhabited, in places covered by impenetrable coniferous forests known as the taiga, which knew no boundaries and stretched as far as the Arctic Ocean.

But what surprised us most of all was the Siberian peasantry. Not only were they not downtrodden like the peasants of central Russia, they were richer and certainly more sure of themselves.

As regards education, Siberians were well ahead of their fellow citizens in the provinces of central Russia. Holmes’s explanation was that, for several centuries, the Russian authorities had settled exiled elements here. A mixture of political exiles, criminals and Cossacks (resettled here in his time by the then governor-general, Count Muravieff-Amursky) had created a very special population.

The political exiles, intelligent and educated, former criminals, creative and entrepreneurial, and freedom-loving Cossacks had intermarried and passed on their characteristics to their descendants. Thus, a new sort of people had come into existence, infinitely superior to the inhabitants of the central provinces. What is more, the bureaucracy was few and far between. And so, a down-trodden and humiliated population had become proud and independent, able to stand up for itself. Their qualities displayed themselves when the Russo-Japanese War broke out and Siberian troops showed their mettle.

At the time of which I write, the Trans-Siberian Railway had not yet been completed. Trains went only as far as Zima station, after which the bones of travellers were severely shaken by horse-drawn carriages as far as Stretensk. From Stretensk, further progress was by ship on the Amur River.

It took us eight days to get to Zima station. It was another two hundred versts to Irkutsk, i.e. a hundred and thirty miles. We just about managed to get there in one piece, every bone in our bodies aching from those damned post chaises. When we finally made it to Irkutsk, we decided to rest there.

We were interested in this city, close to so many gold mines, and decided this is where we would become acquainted with life in Siberia. We found a hotel room and settled in.

Soon enough, an incident occurred through which we were to become closely acquainted with the local gold mines and the way of life connected with them.

II

Sherlock Holmes and I had long since abandoned any attempt at travelling incognito. And since Russians as a people are curious by nature, there was no shortage of gawkers around us. Sherlock Holmes’s fame had penetrated Siberia and, wherever we would go, we were surrounded by curiosity seekers. There were even those who, for no apparent reason, invited us for a meal, probably to see for themselves the eating habits of an English detective.

So it wasn’t surprising that, on one occasion, sitting in our hotel room, we heard a knock on the door. In answer to our invitation to enter, there did so a well-dressed, purple-nosed robust man.

‘All the same, I do beg your pardon that, so to speak, I intrude and etc.,’ burst forth from him in a deep bass. As is customary with Siberians, his speech was peppered with ‘all the same’ and ‘as it is’.

‘How can I be of service?’ asked Holmes.

‘Have mercy on my plight and help me all the same,’ he said. ‘I am one of the owners of the so-called Brothers’ Gold Mine and I am here to seek your help.’

‘Do sit down, please,’ Sherlock Holmes invited him. ‘I have time to spare and there is no need for you to hurry.’

‘All the same, thank you,’ bowed the man.

He ran his hand through his beard, then through his hair and sat down. ‘As it is, the surname is Hromikh. We are two brothers, Sergey and me. I am Piotr Haritonovitch,’ he said giving his name and patronymic in the Russia manner. ‘That’s why our mine is called the “Brothers’ Mine”. The mine is quite a distance from here, all the same, the road is bearable, the gold takings are good, and the equipment as good as possible. All would be well, if it weren’t for the thieving. As it is, this thieving has developed so systematically and on such a scale that we hardly make ends meet. We have our own spies in the mine and they assure us that most of the gold is stolen and then smuggled out by our very own manager, a fellow named Zinovy Andreyevitch Seltzoff. But we can’t believe this to be so. On two occasions, driven out of our minds by what was happening, we intercepted him along the road as he was leaving and found not a grain of gold. As it is, our situation is dire, and we would ask you to take up our case. We are prepared to pay you a third of the value of the stolen gold, if only you were to find out how it is done.’ He fell silent and gave Sherlock Holmes a beseeching look.

‘How far is your mine?’ asked Holmes.

‘Just under eighty miles.’

‘And how many roads lead to it?’

‘As it is, just the one.’

‘Is there a place for us to stay?’

‘As it is, of course!’

‘Excellent,’ said Sherlock Holmes, ‘though I have to admit that I take your case mostly for the opportunity of visiting a gold mine and becoming acquainted with its running.’

‘Oh, if only you knew how grateful I am,’ exclaimed our visitor. ‘Well then, do let me express my appreciation by inviting you to dine with me.’

We accepted. A room was specially set aside for us in our hotel and to the amazement of Mr Piotr Haritonovitch Hromikh we changed for dinner. Over dinner, as was to be expected, we discussed the matter freely.

‘How long ago did you begin to notice the theft of the gold?’ asked Holmes, by the by.

‘That’s the whole point. Strange as it may seem, large-scale theft began three years ago, just when we appointed the new manager.

‘And the thieving is from the office?’

‘Oh, no,’ exclaimed the mine owner. ‘That would be daylight robbery. All the same, what I am speaking of is only of contraband.’

‘Explain yourself.’

‘This is how it works. All the mined gold has to be handed in to the office. Once the sand has been washed, the gold that remains is handed in to the office, nor can it be stolen from the equipment used for washing. But in addition to gold grains obtained by washing sand, there are also gold nuggets to be found. These nuggets are of differing sizes, some several pounds in weight, and they are found by labourers in trenches from which they dig out gold-bearing soil and transfer them on to wheelbarrows for washing. These nuggets are easily detected by the naked eye. The labourers may pick them up manually, but are obliged to place them in containers handily kept there. For these nuggets they are rewarded with a bonus of two and a half roubles per zolotnik of weight, i.e. just over four and a quarter grams. But, despite the most vigilant attention of the supervising staff, all the same, they still manage to steal nuggets and swap them for alcohol. The nominal price of gold is five and a half roubles per zolotnik. The men who steal this gold are pursued by the administration by every possible means, and if any is found when they are searched, it is confiscated. Our spies tell us that the manager himself buys up the stolen gold from the men and manages to get it out of the mine. He gives the men alcohol, confectionery and other forbidden stuff.’

‘Then how often does this manager leave the mine?’ asked Holmes.

‘Once only, at the end of the work year,’ said Hromikh.

‘At what time of year is that?’

‘Late in the autumn, like now.’

‘So he is ready to go.’

‘As it is, yes.’

‘Has anyone told on him this year?’

‘Yes, but my own opinion is that this is done to deflect suspicion. We were told this year that whoever stole the gold has bought forty-five Russian pounds of it in weight. Our gold is of superior quality and the treasury values it at 19,600 roubles per forty Russian pounds. This means that 22,000 roubles worth must be smuggled out. We think that the supervisor of one of the trenches actually buys up the gold and managed to deflect suspicion by having us think it is Seltzoff.’

‘Very likely,’ said Sherlock Holmes thoughtfully and poured champagne into his flute.

III

We parted long after midnight, having decided to set out in two days time. In the meantime, we explored the city.

On the appointed day a comfortably spacious carriage called for us. We set off for the mine with Piotr Haritonovitch Hromikh, taking with us the barest necessities and leaving the rest of our luggage behind. Every fifteen miles or so fresh, well-fed horses replaced the ones driving our carriage. In no time we were at the Brothers’ Gold Mine. Here we were given a couple of rooms next to the quarters of Piotr Haritonovitch Hromikh and on the very first day met the entire administration. Our real names and professions were not revealed and we appeared to be tourists travelling to explore Siberia.

Early in the morning we rose at the same time as the workers when the siren sounded and made our way to the trench and machinery where we assiduously studied the mining operation. At the same time, I noticed how carefully Holmes watched the manager as well as members of the administration.

Daily, as soon as work ended, Sherlock Holmes used to vanish till late at night. The result of his walkabout was that no worker could visit any member of the administration without Holmes noticing.

One evening Holmes approached me, saying, ‘My dear Watson, the time has come for us to meet the mine detectives who do the secret watching.’

‘Why, have you noticed something?’

‘There are one or two things,’ he answered. ‘I have a feeling that Piotr Haritonovitch isn’t quite right when he says that the men who watch secretly are wrongfully trying to implicate the mine manager. I watched him for several days and noticed a very clever manoeuvre on his part.’

‘Namely?’ I prompted.

‘I noticed that he stopped for longer to watch work in progress where gold was densest. Let’s assume this is normal practice, but then he always finds an excuse to send away the supervisor on the spot. Of course, this shouldn’t be surprising either, as the manager is more likely to see something than a supervisor tired from a day’s supervision, but, in fact, this is not how it is. The labourers steal nuggets so skilfully that the attention of the supervisor has to wander for only a brief moment and the nugget vanishes. And our manager frequently pays no attention anyway. But then, late at night, two labourers he places at the best spots visit him.’

IV

That very evening we dropped in on Piotr Haritonovitch.

‘May I meet your so-called investigators?’ asked Holmes with the touch of a smile.

‘Of course,’ was the answer. ‘Do you wish to see them here?’

‘Are there many?’

‘Not really. Only two.’

‘Then let’s have them here,’ said Holmes with a nod.

Piotr Haritonovtch Hromikh went off and was back twenty minutes later accompanied by two ordinary mine labourers.

Holmes asked him to leave us alone with these investigators, which the owner did. He then proceeded to cross-examine the two men. From what they said, Holmes learned that the manager bought gold only from two workmen. These two workmen, in their turn, bought up stolen gold from the rest of the mineworkers in exchange for spirits given them by the manager. The whole operation was carried out so carefully that there was no evidence leading to the manager. As regards how much gold was stolen, this could only be established by the number of drunkards. At first it was thought that the gold was traded with spirits traders, but then it transpired there wasn’t a single one anywhere near the mine. And despite that, mine workers were drunk on this mine more often than elsewhere.

Further investigation led to the conclusion that the stolen gold was most likely gathered up by two labourers. This was done so cunningly that their identities could only be guessed at by the ingratiating manner shown them by their fellow-workers. As to how the gold was handed over and paid for, that was never detected. This is why there was no direct evidence against them. Several sudden, unexpected searches brought no results.

In the meantime, it was noted that these two workmen were in the manager’s distinct favour and often visited him. The manager made no attempt to conceal this favouritism. He said the two are exemplary workers, behave well, work better than anyone, don’t drink, have a positive influence on everyone, settle all minor disputes between the men and the administration which inevitably arise given the difficult existence in the mine.

Holmes heard them out with considerable attention.

‘You say that the number of drunkards or the amount of spirits consumed is an indication of the approximate quantity of alcohol stolen to be traded for stolen gold, is that not so?’ he asked when he had ended his cross-examination.

‘Yes,’ said one of the investigators. ‘We keep a precise record of everything.’

‘Then why isn’t the administration coming down hard on those most often drunk and cross-examining them specifically?’

The two investigators exchanged ironic looks. ‘Any mineworker would rather hang than reveal the source of forbidden drink,’ answered one of them.

‘Wonderful!’ said Holmes. ‘And how much stolen gold do you think the manager has put away.’

‘According to the sums we have done, approximately forty-eight Russian pounds. But it is possible he may have somewhat more. We can’t account for every bottle of spirits.’

‘When is Seltzoff going off?’

‘In three days. The work in the mine ends tomorrow and the caravan with mined gold goes off. Seltzoff has to stay another two days to submit all accounts and pay off the workmen.’

On this our conversation ended.

V

We returned to our quarters. For a long time Sherlock Holmes paced back and forth silently, deep in thought.

‘No, he wouldn’t trust that much gold to anyone else,’ he said at last, stopping by the window. ‘He is a single, lone man, has nobody close, and he has to take his treasure away sooner or later. The only question is this: will he take it with him now or hide it and return for it later.’

‘I think it is the latter,’ I said.

‘It all depends on how cautious he is. A thief always feels that he is being watched,’ said Holmes. ‘And I am prepared to stake my head that Seltzoff realizes he is being watched, especially given that he has already been searched. Only, he relies too strongly on his own cunning. If that is so, he will try to carry the gold with him, because he realizes clearly enough that a second opportunity might not arrive. Moreover, a return when the season is over would attract suspicion. It would be impossible to do so secretly, because there will always be someone around and if nobody is working, all the more reason to notice someone around than when work is in full progress.’

I couldn’t but agree with this line of thinking.

We began to wait patiently. Day and night, we took turns to keep Seltzoff under continuous scrutiny, except when he vanished inside his own quarters.

The next day the caravan left with the owner and the gold. Before he left, he revealed our true identities to the mine guard, asking him to give us every possible assistance.

Another day passed.

The manager made preparations to leave. His spacious leather-curtained personal coach was brought up to his quarters and his things brought out and placed in it.

‘We have to give the appearance that we are leaving,’ said Sherlock Holmes as evening fell. He spent some time in discussion with the mine guard.

We dropped in on the manager, thanked him for the hospitality we had been shown, and announced we were leaving that day.

‘We could travel together,’ proposed the manager.

‘Oh, no, thank you,’ answered Holmes. ‘As it is, I cannot forgive myself for having stayed today.’

A hardly perceptible ironic smile appeared on the manager’s face. We left him and immediately ordered a carriage to be prepared for us. Two hours later we were off with the mine guard.

But we had hardly gone five or six miles from the mine when Holmes ordered the coachman to turn off at the next crossroad, and a quarter of an hour later we were deep in the thick coniferous forests of the taiga.

‘Let him get ahead of us,’ Holmes explained. ‘An attack from the rear invariably works better. We’ll fall upon him as soon as he gets to the first post house to change horses. I doubt if an ordinary but carefully conducted search won’t produce the requisite results.’

We spread out felt matting, wrapped ourselves in warm blankets and slept the night in he forest. We rose with the dawn. The sun had most probably already risen, but in the deep gloom of the taiga it was still dark.

VI

Our bivouac, which gave all the appearance of a robber encampment, was a mere two or three hundred paces from the main road. Every little sound would penetrate the deathly silence of the taiga, more so the rumble of wheels and the beat of horses’ hoofs. We left our horses behind and the three of us crouched behind bushes, near enough to see anything moving along the highway.

Everything was quiet till one in the afternoon, but then my ears detected some sort of sounds in the distance. I glanced at Holmes. He was already on the alert. The sounds increased in volume until, at last, the rumble of wheels and the beat of hoofs increased in volume.

A few minutes and a troika, the carriage driven by three horses, sped past.

The coachman was on the coach box. The manager inside. He had flung himself back in his seat, apparently dozing away as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He didn’t even look in our direction. Looking at him, nobody would imagine a man with anything but a clear conscience.

When his carriage had passed us a mile or so, Holmes threw himself into ours, motioning for us to follow. We sped in the path of the vanished manager, afraid we wouldn’t catch him in time at the next post house where he would change horses.

Mile after mile flashed past. Our troika made a sharp turn and through the forest we spied the post house. With horror we saw that the manager’s troika had nearly completed the change-over of horses. Another minute and we would have lost him, but just in time, as his coachman was clambering up to take his seat, our troika, horses foaming at the mouth from exertion, drew up beside him.

‘Mr Manager, I must detain you for just a minute,’ said the mine guard, approaching him.

‘Is anything the matter?’ asked the manager in surprise. And turning towards us, he said jovially, ‘I never thought I’d overtake you! Wherever did you get stuck? Surely not in the taiga!’

‘I’m afraid we got slightly involved in hunting,’ said Holmes.

‘And that is to be commended. At least the mine guard will be able to carry out his errand.’ The sentence was uttered with the deliberate intention of delivering a little sting. A malevolent look appeared for a moment in his eyes. ‘Now, sir, I am all ears,’ he turned to the mine guard.

‘Permit me to search you.’

‘Me!’ The manager burst out laughing. ‘Do you really still think that I am carrying away my employers’ gold. In any case—’ He shrugged. ‘The laws of the taiga are rough, and anyone who has fallen into it must be reconciled to them. Do your duty, sir. I am at your service.’ He and the mine guard went into the post house.

‘Oh, what a rogue!’ Sherlock Holmes exclaimed merrily. ‘I am prepared to wager anything that he guessed our identity all along. He’s laughing in my face.’

‘So I see,’ I said.

And as if to confirm our words, the manager suddenly sprang out of the post house. ‘Gentlemen, aren’t you joining us? No need to carry on with your comic act, no need to conceal your real profession. Do come in, Messrs Detectives!’ he yelled at us.

‘If that is so, of course, there is no need for us to hide who we are,’ said Holmes with a smile. ‘Come along, Watson.’

We went in and began the search. But Seltzoff had absolutely nothing except for a cotton-lined heavy coat whose pockets were empty and a suit in whose pockets all we found was a wallet and a few letters.

We went outside. We ransacked his entire carriage, the suitcase and the bundles. A feather would not have escaped us. But, despite all our efforts, we found nothing. There was no gold.

Holmes took me aside and said softly, ‘My dear Watson, there’s one place which we haven’t looked at so far.’

‘And that is—’

‘It could very well be that the gold is in the axle or the shafts, or sealed inside the carriage walls. But it has been hidden so craftily that no outward inspection will reveal its presence. Somehow or other we must deprive him of his carriage and see how he reacts to that.’

‘That shouldn’t be too difficult. Break the axles and wheels.’

‘Hmm, that’s not too subtle,’ answered Holmes. ‘It must be done in a way that is not apparent. I’ll take him inside the post house. Let the mine guard take over. He must order the coachman to break down somewhere along the way.’ He thought for a moment and added, ‘Towards which end, it would help to saw through the axle just a little.’

VII

Saying this, he left me and walked towards Seltzoff. Seltzoff followed his movements with irony in his eyes. Holmes asked him to return with him to the post house, leaving me alone with the mine guard.

Left one-on-one with this keeper of law and order, I passed Holmes’s instructions to him. He nodded his head to signal his willingness, called over Seltzoff’s coachman and began to explain to him what had to be done.

For my part, I promised the coachman a reward of fifty roubles if he could bring the manager’s carriage into a state of utter disrepair and explained that this was being done for the good of his employers. Needless to say, the coachman readily agreed to everything. ‘There is a steep incline not far from here and where it turns there is a mileage pillar,’ he said. ‘Ride into it at full tilt and the carriage will disintegrate.’

I got a little saw out of my suitcase and quickly filed under both axles. A few minutes later Holmes and Seltzoff emerged. Holmes apologized for having caused him so much inconvenience and did it with such patent sincerity that the mine guard and I couldn’t believe our ears. He even appeared to have made friends with the manager.

We all sat down to breakfast together, drank a bottle of champagne and decided to drive to Irkutsk together. We stowed away our luncheon baskets, took our seats in our respective carriages and set off. Seltzoff went ahead and we followed. Sherlock Holmes never took his eyes off the troika ahead of us. And now, at last, the steep incline the coachman had told us about appeared.

As soon as we got to the top of the incline, the horses of the leading troika began to play up. No matter how hard the coachman tried, he couldn’t control them. The sweating horses reared up and raced down. Seltzoff was terrified. But he leaped up, seized and pulled at the reins of the horse on the left. This worked somewhat. Their pace lessened but was still somewhat strong.

The coachman panicked as the troika flew towards the mileage pillar. But just before the mileage pillar he apparently came to himself. The troika zigzagged. The horses escaped the impending disaster, but not the carriage. There was the sound of a terrible crack. The horses came to a halt. The coachman went flying head over heels off his seat. Seltzoff was thrown on the back of one of the horses.

‘Bloody idiot!’ he exclaimed angrily getting off. ‘Thank heavens they are right behind us, otherwise what would we do between two post houses!’ He was walking round his coach, shaking his head in distress.

Our troika stopped beside him and we got down and expressed our sympathy.

‘What’s there to grieve over,’ he answered sadly. ‘I’ll have to abandon the carriage. You, gentlemen, will have to be somewhat a little squeezed.’

‘Of course,’ exclaimed Holmes, ‘but surely you don’t intend to abandon such a carriage!’

‘What am I supposed to do about it, carry it? It will be a lucky find for someone who might even be grateful for such a find.’

The trap hadn’t worked. Seltzoff’s things were stowed in our carriage and, taking only his horses and their harness, we set off. But with five people, the load was too much.

‘I suggest we take turns walking,’ said Holmes.

We agreed to do so. It was decided that two would sit inside and two would go on foot and change over every three miles or so. Holmes and I were first to set off on foot. Having walked the agreed distance, the manager and the mine guard walked and we sat in the carriage.

It was cool and Holmes and I had not tired. Not so Seltzoff. At first he strode along boldly. But just over a half mile on, he was perspiring and his face was red. The next half mile or so he desperately tried to appear as if his energy had not deserted him. But yet another half mile or so and he announced he couldn’t walk so much as he wasn’t used to it and, besides, his feet were hurting.

‘Strange,’ said Holmes with a smile. ‘At work you were on your feet all day and you weren’t tired, and here you become tired.’

‘Strange, indeed! I was thinking along those same lines myself,’ said the manager.

The ironic look in his eyes had vanished and was replaced by a look of alarm.

At this moment Holmes shouted at the coachman, ‘Halt!’ Seltzoff shuddered imperceptibly.

Holmes placed his hands on Seltzoff’s shoulders and said frostily, ‘Well, Mr Manager, sir, you laughed at me in vain. Putting anything over Sherlock Holmes doesn’t come easily. Give me your coat.’

‘But I’m cold,’ muttered the manager.

‘In that case, force will have to be used,’ exclaimed Holmes and nodded at the mine guard.

It took a moment to strip Seltzoff of his coat. Holmes took the coat by its collar and was just about to lift it with his outstretched hand.

‘So you’ve got me then,’ Seltzoff growled angrily.

‘I don’t understand,’ I said. ‘What is going on?’

‘Oh, it only came to me because he was getting tired,’ Holmes explained, smiling. ‘The gold is in the heavy cloth of the coat. In its raw state, before it has been worked on to be hardened, gold is pliable and soft enough to be rubbed in its entirety into heavy material. It becomes a fine dust and, as such, it virtually dissolves into the cloth and vanishes. That is preceisely what this gentleman did. He rubbed the gold into the cloth and then all he would have to do to recover the gold is to burn off the cloth. But he wasn’t able to do it, and from this moment he is under arrest.’

We set off again, this time with Seltzoff tied up, though to keep him warm, we gave him another coat to replace the one we had taken away.

Forty-seven pounds of gold were recovered from it.