Nevertheless I agreed with Mr Anthony that the warning had said "blood will be seen"; this had happened, and the assassins could not now return. Even with his help, however, it was a daunting task to interrogate over twenty people, and it was not until shortly before the banquet that we finished and Holmes had rejoined us. He was most complimentary about the task I had fulfilled.
"Excellent, Watson," he said after listening to my account attentively. "I now have little doubt where the root of this problem lies. Mr Anthony, show me, if you will, the banqueting room which you have designed so exquisitely."
"By all means, Mr Holmes."
He felt as I did that this was unnecessary, but nevertheless he led us to the room which was indeed fit for a king, and a Renaissance king at that. Mr Anthony proudly identified the paintings, a Lavinia Fontana portrait, a portrait of Lorenzo de' Medici, a Giotto, and a Ghirlandaio. A copy of the first printing of Shakespeare's sonnets also lay on the table of gifts, together with the ring, the gift of Her Majesty. This was a beautiful object of carved gold, with a large emerald in its centre. As for the table, it was a pleasure to regard, being lit by chandeliers of candles to supplement the low gas mantels at the sides of the room. The candles would grace the ladies' complexions, and invite an intimacy of conversation that bright lights cannot achieve.
Holmes surveyed it all with little apparent reaction. "Blood will be seen," he murmured, when I asked his opinion of the scene before us. "Pray, Mr Anthony, what time is the banquet to begin?"
"In two hours, at eight o'clock," was the secretary's reply.
"It will be dark then. The candles will be lit?"
"They will," Mr Anthony replied somewhat haughtily, "but you need not fear that darkness will permit intruders to enter."
"It might obscure their identities," I suggested.
"So it might, Watson," Holmes replied, but I did not feel he was convinced.
"Do you expect another assassin, Holmes?" Lord Holdhurst had come to join us.
"No human intruder. I am sure of that."
"Great heavens! Not human, Holmes?" I asked in horror. Did he fear some vile creature as in the case of "The Speckled Band"?
The time passed quickly, and I sensed that Lord Holdhurst wished to leave us, but Holmes would not permit it.
"Stay, Lord Holdhurst, if you wish His Majesty to survive the evening."
His eyes roved round the banqueting room, and he insisted we all four remain here at the entrance to the banqueting room.
"The answer lies here somewhere, Watson," he said privately to me. "Somewhere." His gaze fell on one of the portraits. "The Medicis," he said softly. "The great Lorenzo. I begin to see. I have been a fool, Watson. A fool."
"It is a fine portrait," I said, puzzled as to his meaning.
"Ah, but it speaks of more than paint, my friend."
"Of what then?"
"Of murder. Do you not agree, Mr Anthony?"
The young man looked taken aback. "Not the Medicis, Mr Holmes. The Borgias are famed for murder."
"The Medicis too. It was not their love of the arts that kept them alive to enjoy their power."
Lord Holdhurst was impatient. "History can surely wait, Mr Holmes."
"I fear you are wrong," Holmes replied.
His lordship looked irritated. "The evening has been planned carefully with His Majesty's safety in mind."
"And with his murder," Holmes said gravely.
"But where lies the danger?" his lordship cried.
"Here!"
Holmes whirled round and seized the antique ring from its box. "Mr Anthony," he cried, "you chose this ring, did you not? Put it on your finger, if you please."
Reluctantly, obviously thinking he must humour Holmes, he obeyed, drawing it on slowly.
"Now, Mr Anthony, I will shake your hand." Holmes advanced to him with his own outstretched.
The young man drew back, white-faced, drawing the ring off his finger. "You shall not." He backed hastily, turned and fled along the corridor.
"Watson, tell the guards to hold him," Holmes shouted.
I obeyed instantly, and it was the work of a minute or two before Anthony was held securely by two constables. When I returned, I saw Count Panelli had joined the astonished and annoyed Lord Holdhurst.
"Kindly inform me of what my secretary stands accused, Mr Holmes," he said icily.
"That ring-Count Panelli, I really would not risk your life by examining it too closely."
It was hastily replaced in its box by the nervous count.
"The Medicis," Holmes explained, "required protection against their enemies. They needed to kill by stealth however, and the gift of a ring to an enemy whom they wished to die a particularly unpleasant death by poison was one such method. The ring slides on to the finger, but if the wearer's hand is clasped and pressure applied in one particular spot, a needle shoots out that will kill instantly. I think you will find that this is such a ring."
"My secretary betrayed me?" Lord Holdhurst sat down, looking his full age for the first time. "He wished to assassinate the King? I cannot believe this."
"Lestrade's telegraph confirmed my suspicions. Mr Anthony speaks fluent Italian, the result of his having an Italian-or as he would say a Sicilian-mother. She is the sister of Giuseppe Rupallo, but before becoming your secretary Mr Anthony worked in Paris for Count Litvov. I think you will find he is behind this whole plan, no doubt with Rupallo's full support. For once Russian interests coincided with the Italian anarchists, the latter to throw Italian unity into civil warfare, the former to cause a rift between Italy and England."
"I understand now about Anthony and Rupallo, but how can you know that Litvov was involved?" Lord Holdhurst asked.
Holmes smiled. "The ring. The stone has been replaced. It is alexandrite, the stone precious to Russia alone and the Tsar in particular, and a gem that was only discovered earlier this century. It was Litvov's arrogant signature to the crime."
"And yet it betrayed him."
"How?" I asked, bewildered.
"By day alexandrite is green. By candlelight however it appears red. Blood red. 'Blood will be seen again today.' The death of poor Mandesi was to make us think that the assassination attempt had failed, hence the note; but this ring-that was the symbol of blood."
"My dear Mr Holmes, how can I thank you?" Lord Holdhurst said. "Litvov would undoubtedly have revealed the cause of the King's death if this terrible plan had worked. If Her Majesty's gift were known to have been the instrument of the murder, I hesitate to think what would have happened."
"I imagine," said Holmes, "that Her Majesty would not be pleased."
"But she has no gift to present now," Count Panelli said anxiously, after adding his thanks to Lord Holdhurst's. "That will not please her either."
Holmes thought for a moment. "Might I suggest that you find a length of the purest white silk, upon it place two green leaves and between them the stone from this ring-extracted with care of course. Red, green and white, the colours of the Italian flag, symbol of a united Italy, and most disquieting for Count Litvov to see a Russian stone presented to the King as a gift. A most fitting conclusion to a most appetising banquet of a case."