“But Wagner himself, as long as I have known him,” he continued, “has possessed a very difficult character. A person of strange moods and abrupt changes in character, one never knew whether he would be jovial or morose. Plagued all his life by financial worries, seeing enemies everywhere, his creative genius always found itself subject to his powerful but destructive emotions. Because he is so difficult, I at first opposed Cosima’s association with him. I preferred frankly the less talented but steadier Hans von Bülow. Even after she left him to live with Wagner, I opposed their marriage, and I advised von Bülow not to grant a divorce. But after I saw Cosima and realized how happy she was with Richard, I finally relented. She told me that she had made her life very complicated by marrying Wagner, but he was the joy of her life, just as Hans, her first husband, was her life’s sorrow, and her children her life’s work. Richard, himself, never seemed happier than after their marriage.”
“Within this happiness,” said Holmes,” there must be something that you find troubling, Monsieur Liszt, otherwise you would not be here. Please tell me what it is.”
“I shall explain, Monsieur Holmes. In brief, it is this: for no apparent reason, Wagner’s health has deteriorated rapidly in the last several years, so rapidly that I have begun to suspect an external cause. Considering his enormous success as a composer and the familial happiness that he shares with his wife and children, there is no reason for this decline and for the number of maladies with which he has been afflicted. He was a vigorous man in his youth, and except for his youthful excesses, he has been a man of abstemious habits. He is, through the influence of Schopenhauer, a kind of Buddhist, un bouddhiste allemand, as they say, who has led the quiet life of a composer.”
“Then there is,” Holmes interjected, “as I have long suspected, no truth behind all the rumours and wild tales associated with him—and about you, Monsieur Abbé, I might add.”
The Abbé laughed. “Monsieur Holmes, the public desires this kind of tale. It is what fills the concert halls and pays our way. The public does not understand artistic creation in the slightest. It cannot comprehend in the least what effort and time is involved just to produce a finished score, let alone conceive it. We are not all Mozarts. Even the shortest of my études has taken hours not just to compose, but merely to write out clearly for the printer. The years of hard labor that go into the creation of works such as Lohengrin or even of some of my more modest efforts, such as Les Préludes, leave little time for the wild life. We lead, Monsieur Holmes, the most bourgeois of lives in order to generate the passion necessary to create the music of the future, as Wagner himself has characterized it.”
Holmes watched Liszt carefully as he stood up and paced across the room. His face, that of a true Magyar, showed the greatest concern.
“I have spent several months with the Wagners over the last year, Monsieur Holmes, and I have seen the steady decline of my friend Richard. His nights are sleepless. He cannot find rest, he is tormented by fierce dreams, spasms of the muscles, deep pain through his joints and severe nocturnal hallucinations. He has all but given up composing. I have just left them. They are in Venice, a place that Wagner finds congenial. Richard is ill, very ill, and he does not follow his doctors’ orders. I was alarmed at how he looked at Christmas. It was then that I thought that something was very wrong, that there might be an external cause.”
“Like poison. And that is why you came to me?” asked Holmes.
“Precisely, Monsieur Holmes. I say this with no knowledge whatsoever of his condition, only a certain intuition that comes when we are disturbed by the unexpected perception of our close friends and relations. The doctors have not been able to diagnose his various maladies to my satisfaction. If I am correct in my suspicions, then we must intervene. According to the French security forces, you know more about poison and its effects than anyone alive. According to the King of Bohemia, you are the best consulting detective in the world. I believe that you are the right man to investigate the matter. And, if I am wrong, we will have lost nothing.”
“Monsieur Abbé, I shall be happy to, but I shall need to have direct access to Herr Wagner and his family. And since I am not a physician, I request that my colleague, Dr. Watson, accompany me. His experience should be of great aid to us.”
“That can be easily arranged. Fortunately, Monsieur Holmes, Cosima and her husband have expressed the desire to improve their own English as well as that of their children by having two English speakers live with them for a time. On my recommendation, those persons could be you.”
“This would mean a trip to Venice.”
“The family is at present occupying large quarters in one of the old palaces off the Grand Canal, the Palazzo Vendramin. There is more than adequate room for you, and you would lack for nothing. In addition, I am willing to pay you whatever you wish, including your expenses. I am not the King of Bohemia, Monsieur Holmes, but I assure you that I can afford to pay you whatever fair sum you require.”
“I accept your offer, Monsieur Abbé. Nothing keeps me in London at present, and since I have never visited Venice, nor Italy, for that matter, I shall be happy to leave as soon as possible. I see one very large problem: Wagner, if memory of my files serves, is a person with many enemies. Despite his bourgeois life, as you put it, he has managed to offend so many people that even the first task, the narrowing of the range of suspects, will be a formidable one. There have been many enemies, like Meyerbeer, for instance.”
“Meyerbeer was one of Wagner’s many stupidities. Meyerbeer never hurt anyone, least of all Wagner, and, poor man, he is dead these many years. But you are right. Wagner’s enemies are legion. I myself, however, do not know anyone who would go so far as to kill him. I must, therefore, have your judgement of his condition as soon as possible. If I am correct in my suspicion, then we must protect him by finding the culprit.”
“You shall have my judgement about Herr Wagner’s condition within a day of my arrival in Venice. As to identifying the culprit—that will be a more difficult matter, but not an impossible one. All crimes are preceded by similar ones, Monsieur Abbé, and I have learned that there is nothing really new under the sun. The history of crime, if well known, can provide us with much useful information. Already, I can think of three cases that bear interesting similarities to this one.”
“No doubt,” said Liszt, “one of them is the case of Mozart and Salieri.”
“A most interesting case, that one, but Salieri’s guilt is the concoction of the Russian poet Pushkin, who, I suspect, may know who the real culprit was. That Mozart was poisoned is clear to me. That Salieri did not murder him is also most obvious, but more of that at another time.”
“Then I shall telegraph my daughter at once, informing her that I have discovered two wonderful young Englishmen who will be delighted to stay with them for a time in order to aid them in their study of the English language. And what names shall I give them?”
“Since I shall need to examine him, I shall also go in the guise of a physician. Tell Frau Wagner,” Holmes said with some amusement, “that a Dr. John Watson of London is prepared to spend several months with them in Italy. He will be accompanied by his friend, Anthony Hopkins, also a physician.”
As I listened, the two made their final arrangements, and Holmes bade the great pianist good-bye. The Abbé bowed gracefully and, like some enormous falcon readying itself to take flight, swiftly turned and left the room. Holmes began at once to make the preliminary preparations for our extended trip to Italy.