"Yes."
"Is the wash room attended?"
"It is not."
"And the cloak room? Is it attended at all times?"
"Of course it is."
"Your Grace, will you be so good as to show me where it was that you left your toilet box?"
We turned in a body, headed by the duke, and passed into the wash room. He pointed to one of the ornate marble wash basins at the far end of the room. It was one of a dozen such wash basins lining the entire left handside wall of the chamber which was fronted by a series of mirrors for the use of the members. The right handside wall was fitted with toilet cubicles in dark mahogany and brass fittings, except for a small area behind the main door. The marble tiled wall here was unimpeded by anything except for a small opening. It was about two feet square, framed in mahogany and with a hatch door.
I pointed to it.
"I presume that this hatch connects the wash room with the cloak room?"
"Naturally," barked the chairman. "Now what is all this about?"
I turned and led them out of the wash room into the cloakroom, where a uniformed attendant leapt from his chair, dropping a half-smoked cigarette into an ash tray and looking penitently from one to another of us.
"Can I help you gentlemen?" he stuttered.
"Yes, you can," I assured him. "You can bring me the garment that you are holding for Colonel Sebastian Moran. I think you will find that it is a heavy riding cloak or one of those new style long, loose coats which, I believe, is called an Ulster."
The attendant returned my gaze in bewildered fashion. The chairman pushed forward.
"Good God, sir, what do you mean by it? Colonel Moran is a respected member of this club. Why are you presuming to ask for his coat?"
The Duke of Cloncury was looking at me with a frown of disapproval.
"You'd better have a good explanation, young Holmes," he muttered.
"I believe that you want the return of your toilet case?" I asked blandly.
"Gad, you know I do."
I turned to the attendant.
"Have you been on duty for the last half an hour?"
"That I have, sir."
"A short while ago Colonel Moran knocked on the hatch from the wash room side and asked if you could pass him his coat for a moment. Is that correct?"
The man's jaw dropped in astonishment.
"It is, sir. He said he wanted to comb his hair and had left the toilet items hi his coat. And the coat was, indeed, one of those new style Ulsters, sir."
"I believe the colonel then came around from the wash room, into the cloak room, in order to hand you back the coat?" "That is exactly what he did, sir."
I turned and smiled at the astonished company, perhaps a little too superior in my attitude.
"How the hell did you know that?" growled the chairman. "Now, my man," I said, ignoring him, but speaking again to
the attendant. "Would you fetch Colonel Moran's Ulster?" The attendant turned, picked down the garment and handed
it to me in silence.
I took it and weighed it carefully with one hand before reaching into the inside lining. There were several large pockets there as was the fashion with such garments. The leather box was tucked neatly into one of them.
"How did you know?" gasped Cloncury seizing his precious box eagerly.
"Know? I merely deduce from facts, sir. If you will open the box and check the brush? I think you may find that in the brush are some strands of dark black hair. The colour of Colonel Moran's hair, which is easy to spot as it is dyed."
It took the duke but a moment to confirm that I was right.
"I think the colonel is someone given to seizing opportunity. A chance taker," I told them. "He followed His Grace into the wash room when His Grace had already entered the toilet. He saw the leather case there. He knew it had great sentimental value for His Grace. Perhaps he thought he might be able to blackmail Cloncury for its return, probably through an intermediary of course. He seized the opportunity, asking for his Ulster to be passed through the hatch in order to conceal the box in order to get it out of the club. He chanced that members would not be searched…"
"It would be unthinkable that a member of this club would be searched," muttered the chairman. "We are all gentlemen here!" I chose not to comment.
"He could not carry the box out of the wash room into the cloak room without observation. When I saw the hatch I knew that he had only to ask for his coat to be passed through, place the box in his pocket unobserved, and the theft was complete."
"How did you know it was an Ulster or a riding cloak?" demanded his grace.
"He would have to be possessed of a heavy coat such as an Ulster or riding cloak with large enough interior pockets to conceal the box in."
"Why not pass the coat back through the hatch once he had hidden the box in the coat?" demanded Mycroft. "Why do you think that he came out of the wash room door, into the hall and then into the cloak room to return the cloak to the attendant?"
"Moran was cautious. Passing it back through the hatch might cause the attendant to feel the box and become suspicious, especially after Cloncury raised the alarm. So he carried it round and handed it to the attendant holding it upright by the collar. The extra weight would not be noticed. Is that correct?" The attendant nodded confirmation.
"What made you think there would be hairs on the brush and that they would be his?" queried His Grace, staring dubiously at the black dyed hairs which were entangled on his silver-backed brush.
"Because Moran is a vain man and could not resist cocking a snoot at you, Your Grace, by brushing his own hair while you were within feet of him. It fits in with Moran's character, a demonstration of his nerve for any moment you might have opened the door and discovered him. Chance is his adrenaline."
"Holmes, this is amazing!" gasped Cloncury.
"It was anotherTrinity man who alerted me to the importance of careful observation," I informed him. "Jonathan Swift. He wrote that a stander-by may sometimes see more of the game than he who plays it." I could not resist turning to Mycroft and adding, sotto voce, "And Trinity almost refused to give Swift a degree because they thought he was too lazy and undisciplined!"
The chairman of the club signalled the uniformed club doorman and his assistant. They looked ex-military men.
"You will find Colonel Moran in the dining room," he instructed. "Ask him to join us immediately. If he will not comply, you have my permission to escort him here with as much force as you have cause to use."
The two men went off briskly about their task.
A moment later the colonel, whose appearance suggested that he had polished off the rest of the wine, was firmly propelled into our presence.
His red-rimmed eyes fell on his Ulster and on Cloncury holding his precious leather case. The man's face went white in spite of the alcoholic infused cheeks.
"By Gad, sir, you should be horsewhipped!" growled the Duke of Cloncury and Straffan menacingly.
"This is a fabrication!" bluffed Moran feebly. "Someone put the box in my inside coat pocket."
I could not forbear a grin of triumph.
"How did you know that it was the box which had been stolen? And how did you know it was found in your inside coat pocket, colonel?"
Moran knew the game was up.
"Moran," the chairman said heavily, "I shall try to persuade His Grace not to bring charges against you for the sake of the reputation of this club. If he agrees, it will be on the condition that you leave Ireland within the next twelve hours and never return. I will circulate your name in society so that no house will open its doors to you again. I will have you black-balled in every club in the land."
The Duke of Cloncury and Straffan gave the matter a moment's thought and then agreed to the conditions.
"I'd horsewhip the beggar, if it were me. Anyway. I think we all owe young Mister Sherlock Holmes our thanks in resolving this matter."