"I have a great interest in the art of the Ancient Greeks. Is this not a reproduction of Aphrodite?" he asked the Consul, with a charming smile upon his face.
"No, no," replied our host, "coming round his desk, limping slightly as he came, and pointing to another sculpture on a table on the other side of the room, "this is Aphrodite." "Of course," said Holmes. "Thank you again, Mr Leonticles, we will take no more of your valuable time."
"We progress, Watson," said Holmes, as we sat in the cab on our way to Belgrave Square, "You noticed his limp?"
I had, indeed, noticed it. "Very similar to mine, Holmes, after I tripped over the pile of wood at Harrington Mews," I said, "Why did you not confront him with it?"
"There was no need," replied Holmes, "he knew it."
"But might he not flee the country, now that he knows you suspect him of breaking into the Bulgarian's house?" I asked.
"No, Watson," replied Holmes, with a smile, "I think not."
We arrived at the Turkish Embassy and were admitted by a porter who reminded me of the genie from Aladdin's lamp. He wore red boots with upturned toes, black baggy trousers and a green and highly ornate tunic. He accepted Holmes's card without a word and went to deliver it to Orman Pasha. A few minutes later, a sombre fellow in a suit and a fez came and escorted us to the Pasha's room.
This time Orman Pasha was not in full dress uniform, but was wearing a black frock-coat. He rose from behind his desk and greeted us warmly.
"Mr Holmes," he said, as he motioned us to sit down, "dare I hope that you have good news to tell?"
"We are approaching a solution to the mystery, Orman Pasha," said Holmes, "but there are some loose ends that remain. I am hopeful that a disaster may yet be averted."
"I am greatly relieved to hear it, Mr Holmes," replied the Pasha.
"I do, however, have a few questions to ask you, after which I would like to meet Colonel Yusufoglu," said Holmes, sitting back in his chair. "Orman Pasha, if, as we shall for the moment assume, the Bulgarian emissary was not murdered by your Government's agents, who else would have a motive for killing him?"
The Pasha thought for a moment. "Of the people present at Lord Eversden's dinner, I cannot think of anyone who might have a motive. They are all people in prominent diplomatic positions and I cannot see what any of them would gain from doing such a thing."
"Do you not think then that the reasonable conclusion to be drawn is that one of your Government's agents did, in fact, commit the murder? Colonel Yusufoglu was kneeling beside Simeonov; Simeonov appeared to accuse him with his dying words; Count Balinsky is convinced of his guilt. No other evidence seems to suggest the guilt of any other man. Must not the conclusion be that the colonel is guilty?"
The Pasha looked at Holmes with an expression of mingled amusement and impatience. "Mr Holmes," he said, "why do you suggest such a thing when you are already convinced that it is not true?"
"Why does Your Excellency conclude that I do not accept this as the truth?"
"Because you have already told me that you have high hopes of averting disaster, Mr Holmes. If you did, indeed, believe in Yusufoglu's guilt, you would not have said that."
Holmes smiled his tight, secret smile. "Guilt is a matter of definition.We must not forget that, in any murder, the murderer's motive is of at least equal importance to his identity."
The Pasha's brow darkened. "I fear, Mr Holmes, that, whatever the motive, it will make little difference in this case if Yusufoglu is the murderer. Do you wish to speak with him now?"
Holmes nodded and the Pasha rang a bell. The sombre individual entered the room and was given a few brief instructions in Turkish, whereupon he left, to return a few minutes later with a tall, broad-shouldered man – Colonel Yusufoglu. He was a dark-complexioned giant, with fierce black eyes and a thick black moustache. I will admit that he struck me as a morose fellow, who might well commit murder if the need arose.
The Pasha introduced us and Holmes and I shook hands with him. He sat down, eying us suspiciously.
"Colonel," began Holmes, "I hope you will excuse me if I speak openly and bluntly, because of what is at stake in this matter. You are, no doubt, aware that you are seen as being the prime suspect for the murder of Anton Simeonov. What have you to say in your defence?"
"I did not murder the Bulgarian," replied the colonel stolidly. "Then who did?"
"I had been given to understand that it was your task to find that out."
"Nevertheless, I would be interested in your views on the matter."
"I did not witness the killing, how could I know who killed the man?"
"What did you mean when you said to Count Balinsky that he knew the truth?"
"I meant that he must know that I had every reason not to commit the murder. Even he must be aware that such an act would precipitate the events we were all anxious to avoid."
"Why did you say 'Ask yourself who is the murderer'?"
The Military Attaché shifted uneasily. "I was inviting him to think more clearly." I noticed that Orman Pasha was looking at the colonel with a worried expression on his face, as though he found his answers to Holmes's questions weak and unconvincing.
Holmes leapt to his feet. "Thank you, colonel, you have told me everything I need to know."
The colonel rose from his seat, looking at Holmes with an expression half angry and half fearful. He turned and said something in Turkish to Orman Pasha, who nodded. The colonel turned and looked at Holmes with smouldering black eyes, then abruptly left the room.
"Orman Pasha," said Holmes, when the colonel had gone, "does any member of your staff speak Bulgarian?"
"I speak Bulgarian myself, Mr Holmes," replied the Pasha, with an expression of mild astonishment on his face.
"Good, then perhaps you would be good enough to tell me whether this English sentence is a correct translation of the Bulgarian sentence above it." He handed our host a small piece of paper. The Pasha took it and I was disturbed to see the old man start violently.
"What is the meaning of this, Mr Holmes," said the Pasha, "What are you telling me?"
"I am telling you that this case is much more complicated than we thought at the outset. I take it the translation is accurate?"
"It is accurate, Mr Holmes," said the Pasha, shaking his head in puzzlement and disbelief.
On our way back to Baker Street, Holmes stopped at a post office to send a telegram. He then went to pay a visit to his brother Mycroft at the Diogenes Club and I made my way to Baker Street alone.When he finally arrived, Holmes walked over to the mantelpiece and, to my horror, he stood contemplating the syringe that enabled him to indulge his only weakness.
"Holmes, my dear fellow," I said, "you have arrived at your final conclusion in this case."
"Yes,Watson, I have arrived at my final conclusion."
We had a quiet dinner, as usual prepared by the excellent Mrs Hudson. After the meal, Holmes stood up. "Tomorrow morning we will go Stoke Morden to save the world," he said. "Better have an early night, Watson." He disappeared into his bedroom, while I went to mine in a sombre mood.
eventually arrived at Royston Manor, I noticed that a number of fine carriages drawn by magnificent horses were moving off the broad gravel pathway that led to the house. We were admitted by the old butler and were shown into the drawing room, where, to my astonishment, I found that all the dramatis personae of the recent tragedy were present. Lord Eversden was seated in his armchair, with Orman Pasha on the settee beside him. Baron Nopchka sat at the other end of the settee, while Mr Leonticles and Colonel Yusufoglu were sitting on armchairs opposite the settee. Count Balinsky, as though disdaining the company of others, sat somewhat apart, near the window. Mycroft Holmes was sitting on an upright chair in front of a table behind the settee.