Copyright © by David M. Scott
"It was my first real case, Watson. The matter of Squire Trevor’s sad history and that of Birlstone Manor were handed to me by old school friends, but the theft of Mrs. Farintosh’s jewels I took on and solved without the help of the old boy network."
So said my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, as we sat before a cozy fire on a bitter evening. With the weather keeping criminal and victim alike indoors, I had reminded Holmes of his promise to relate to me the particulars of his education in the ancient Japanese fighting arts. I shall set the case down as he told it to me.
"When I came down from University, I took such lodgings in Montague Street as my meager resources would allow, and devoted my time to studying whatever branches of art and science would prove useful in the work of an investigator. I became a fixture in the Reading Room of the British Museum, and soon gained an acquaintance with the other regulars.
"It was at closing time one evening, on the Museum’s steps, that one of these regulars accosted me. I had noted the elderly Oriental man before, but beyond a few superficial deductions, I knew nothing of him. I admit that I was mystified by the heavy calluses on his hands, which fit no pattern imposed by any manner of manual labour with which I was acquainted. I welcomed the opportunity to enlarge my knowledge in this area.
"‘You are Mr. Holmes, please?’ he said, in slightly ungrammatical English. ‘You are detective, but not of police in Scotland Yard?’ I admitted as much, neglecting to mention my utter lack of experience. ‘My son is arrested, in much trouble. They say he steal diamonds. He do not steal. My son is man of honour. Police not listen to Japanese persons, call my son Yellow Peril, they think I not hear. They make joke. You can help, please? I can pay. I can pay twelve English pound.’
"Well, it was not only gratifying to be assumed superior to the Yard, but twelve pounds was a fortune to me then. I assured the fellow that we could discuss money later, and invited him to tell me the details over a cup of tea in my rooms. I took meticulous notes, something I leave to your more capable hands now. This is his statement of the case."
"‘My name Hideo Baritsu. Soichiro my only son; his mother die when he is born. In Japan, I am sensei, which mean teacher. My son is apprentice to master jewelry maker. He learn very well, have very good job, and one day Englishman come into shop. He see work of Soichiro, ask to speak him. He say Japanese fashion very much liked in England, say Soichiro come to England and have better job, much good money. Soichiro say to me he want to go, but not to leave me alone, so I go too. I travel much when I young man, but have not seen England.’
‘Soichiro work for Mister Aspinall, in big jewelry shop in Bond Street. He work hard, learn to do English style, do very well. Mister Aspinall make him boss of all hand work. Mister Aspinall very honourable man; many Englishmen think no Japanese good enough for boss man of white people. But Soichiro is boss, he even have cards like this.’" Bursting with pride, the old man handed me a businessman’s card, very good quality, engraved with ‘Mr. S. Baritsu, Supervisor, Craft Work, Aspinall’s, 17A, Bond Street W1. By Appointment to HRH The Princess of Wales, Jewelers.’
"The old man grew distressed at the next part of his tale. ‘Three week ago, very rich lady name Farintosh bring her jewels to shop for clean and repair. Is important job, so Soichiro do this himself. Lady have big tiara, for wear on head, with twenty-four fire opal and many small diamonds. Soichiro take great care with this, lock in safe every night. Yesterday, Mrs. Farintosh come to get jewels. Soichiro take from safe, look at tiara. Is terrible! Opals there, but diamonds gone! In their place is fake, they say, paste? Soichiro tell Mister Aspinall, Mr. Aspinall tell Mrs. Farintosh. She call policeman, say Soichiro steal diamonds.’ The fellow was in tears by this time. "Great disgrace to Baritsu name. In my country, family honour is duty of all family. Dishonour hurt all family. I know my son is not thief. I ask police, if he steal diamonds, why he show Mister Aspinall diamonds gone? Mrs. Farintosh never know; Soichiro only know from working much with jewels. Police have no answer, they say he only one who can steal. They say he grow old and die in jail! Must not, Mister Holmes! If Soichiro go to jail, he will do seppuku. I do, too.’
"‘Seppuku?’ I asked. He nodded, and mimed stabbing himself in the abdomen. I was shocked. I did not know, then, that the Japanese code of honour demands suicide of those disgraced. ‘We can’t have that,’ I told the old man. ‘I shall certainly look into the matter. I must first speak to your son. Where is he being held?’
"The old man was so effusive in his gratitude, that for a moment I felt guilty for giving him hope where none might be justified. It is a problem I still face on occasion, Watson, as you do when proposing treatment for a critically ill patient. Still, we can only stifle our own doubts and press on.
"Mr. Baritsu finally told me that his son was at Bow Street, and as he visited the lad every evening, he insisted I accompany him at once. There was a bit of difficulty with the watch-sergeant; as I was not a family member or a solicitor, he baulked at letting me see the prisoner. What finally convinced him was my own card, which grandly described me as a ‘Consulting Detective’. It was a watershed for me, Watson, the first time I ever presented my professional persona.
"We found the lad staring out the small, barred window of the cell. Even in that less than salubrious environment, his own person and dress was fastidiously tidy, and his accent as he acknowledged the introduction was pure Eton-and-Harrow. ‘Thank you, Mr. Holmes,’ he said, ‘for coming to my aid. I hope you may be successful, though I fear you shall have an uphill battle. I swear to you that I am innocent, but the case against me is strong enough to convict one of my race.’
"‘We shall see about that,’ I said, attempting to exude confidence. ‘Tell me all of the circumstances surrounding the tiara. Leave no detail out, however small.’
"Young Baritsu sat on his cot and took a moment to compose his thoughts. ‘I have been at Aspinall’s for a little over two years, and three months ago I was put in charge of all the craft work, with three fellows under me. The Farintosh tiara is the first really important job since my promotion. Mr. Farintosh is one of your merchant princes, who made a fortune trading in the East. He had the tiara made in Bombay as a gift for his wife’s thirtieth birthday. That was about eight years ago. On the 9th of last month, Mrs. Farintosh brought the tiara in to the shop to be cleaned and to have some loose settings redone. It is a very nice piece, with a circle of matched fire opals and pavé diamonds set in gold. None of the diamonds are very large or valuable when taken as a single stone, but as a lot, they are worth about four thousand pounds.
‘At Mr. Aspinall’s suggestion, I did all the work on the tiara myself. I removed every stone, and put them in envelopes numbered to correspond with a sketch of the tiara. This was to ensure that each stone went back into its original setting. When all the stones were out, I cleaned the bare gold, then cleaned and re-set each stone. This took all my time for over three weeks. I wanted to make a perfect job of it, to justify my appointment as supervisor.’
"I interrupted the tale to ask, ‘Did you feel that you needed to justify yourself? Surely you would not have been promoted had your past work not been exemplary.’
"‘Mr. Aspinall had full confidence in me,’ he replied, ‘but not everyone felt the same. Among our customers and the brokers, there were those who disliked dealing with an Oriental, and I suspect my three lads were not happy about it, though none would ever gainsay Mr. Aspinall’s decision. He’s a fair man and a good businessman, but he tolerates no back-chat from employees.’
"‘Tell me about these three,’ I suggested.
"‘You think as I do, Mr. Holmes. I know I did not steal the diamonds. Therefore it must have been someone else in the shop, and my three subordinates would have the best access to the tiara. Yet I cannot see any of them doing such a thing.’
"‘There is yet another suspect,’ I told him, ‘about whom I shall also inquire.’
"‘Who would that be?" he asked.
"‘Why, Mr. Aspinall himself," I said, knowing that it would shock the lad. He was far too innocent; I had to shake his naive trust in his fellow man if I were to get any useful facts from him. ‘He has access to everything in the shop, and he’s been in the jewelry business for upwards of thirty years. Surely he would be capable of substituting counterfeit stones.’ The lad conceded the point, and gave me the details of his fellow workers.
"In summary, here are my notes on Aspinall and the three subordinates, all of whom I subsequently investigated," said Holmes, laying an well-worn note-book on my lap. The notes read:
Aspinall, Harley, aged 56: Started in the shop owned by his father at the age of fourteen, inherited it when his father died seven years ago. Married, two grown children. Two brothers; Walter, 51, is a gem broker in Paris and George, 48, is a Major in the Indian Army, stationed at Allahabad. The business is very profitable, Aspinall has no money worries. Owns his house in St. John’s Wood.
Geoffrey Davidson, aged 31: Apprenticed to Aspinall’s 16 years ago. Excellent craftsman, but no ambition to be more. Has acted as supervisor when the last fellow (now retired) was on holiday, didn’t like it. Asked not to be considered for supervisor’s job. Married, three children. Resides at 31D, Calley Road, Croydon. Not known to have financial difficulties. Appears to live within his income. Local publican and tradesmen say he shows no change in living or spending habits.
Peter McQueen, aged 44: Came to Aspinall’s seven years ago, with references from a jeweler in Dublin. Thorough and reliable worker. Disciplined by Aspinall last year for importunate remarks to a customer’s female servant. Unmarried, lives in furnished lodgings at 131 Millstone Street. Not unknown to the bookmakers but pays rent on time. Often out in the evenings; landlady neither knows nor cares where. No signs of a lady friend.
Rodger Calloway, aged 20: Apprenticed four years ago, still learning. Gets most of the routine work. Slow but steady, eager to please. Lives with widowed mother in Flat 2C, 54 Mile End Road. Does not smoke or drink. Amateur footballer; reputation as a clean player and hard tackler, but not much of a sprinter. Courting Emily Brand, assistant in a hat shop one block down from Aspinall’s -- harmless.
"There were other people, clerks and such, on the staff, but they did not have access to the workrooms. I decided to concentrate on these four people. I took my leave of the Baritsus with a promise to report as soon as there was any progress.
"The next morning I started my investigations, and spent three fruitless days following up on the workroom staff. In those days, I did not have my present wide network of contacts that could tell me if someone were trying to sell a parcel of small diamonds, so that avenue was closed to me. For want of a better approach, I decided to follow each of the workers for a day or two.
"Davidson’s life ran in a set of tracks that led from his home to his work, then to his local pub and back home again. I spent an evening with him over a cribbage board in the pub, trying to give the impression of a man who would be interested in buying stolen goods. I decided he was either innocent or very deep; he just sat there with a bland smile, nattering banalities and relieving me of fourteen shillings in the course of the game. I set him down as a non-starter.
"McQueen was another proposition entirely. His evenings were spent in gambling hells, in the company of women of questionable virtue. This was, in itself, suspicious, but he seemed to be in no need of money. He was a skilful card-player, and a fine judge of form when it came to bare-knuckle fighters and ratting terriers. He did not play for high stakes, but he played consistently, winning small sums that must have added up nicely. I could not see him risking a diamond theft when he did so well in his wagering.
"Young Calloway showed me some first-rate tackling, but little else. I felt a fool eavesdropping on his wooing of the milliner’s clerk; his poetic raptures sounded rather silly to me, though she seemed to appreciate it. I crossed him off as a suspect.
"Aspinall himself was no good. He would have been a fool to risk the reputation of a firm with a Royal Warrant and the patronage of the elite. So there I was, feeling the fool myself, having eliminated all of my suspects. I felt bound to offer my dismal report to old Mr. Baritsu, so I called upon him at the address he had given me.
The Baritsu home was a first-floor flat above a store-front that appeared unused; the glass windows had been boarded over. I went up the steps and knocked, but got no answer, so I left a note and descended. As I passed the shop-front, I heard the most unusual noise coming from inside. From the sound of it, a chorus of men were chanting ‘Hi! Hi! Hi!’ and stamping their feet. Now, you know my bump of curiosity, Watson. I could never leave such a thing alone, so I rapped on the door. The voices stilled, and in a moment I found myself face to face with Mr. Baritsu., who invited me in.
The shop had been stripped of all its fixtures. Its only adornments were a number of woven grass mats on the floor and walls. A dozen Orientals, dressed in what I took to be pyjamas, stood in ranks. Mr. Baritsu spoke to them in their own language, and they sat cross-legged on the floor and chattered in low voices.
"I explained my errand to Mr. Baritsu. ‘Lesson almost over. We stop early today. Excuse, please.’ He gave another command, and the men filed through a door at the back of the shop. My client led me to an inside staircase, and we ascended to his flat, where I detailed my singular lack of progress. To my surprise, he did not seem disappointed.
"‘May I offer advice, Mr. Holmes?’ he said. ‘Old proverb says, woman kiss you for love, or for gratitude, or just friendly. Be sure you know which before you kiss back’.
"‘I don’t understand,’ I replied.
"‘You look at these men and say, who need money? Maybe diamonds not take for money. Maybe they take to hurt Soichiro. Please, you ask, who is better when Soichiro in jail? When you know why, you know who.’
"I learned something that day, Watson. The thought of that handful of diamonds had blinded me. I had assumed that the motive for the theft was monetary gain, and that had limited my vision. I looked with new eyes on my three suspects, and the choice was obvious. ‘By God, sir, you are right!’ I cried, leaping from my chair. ‘Please excuse me, I must be off again. I can still catch the fellow as he leaves work!’
"Baritsu held up his hand. ‘Wait, please, I change clothes and go too.’ Before I could answer, he slipped through a door.
"Back then, I had not yet learned the folly of letting a client take an active part in a case, so I sat and waited until he returned, dressed for the street. Together we descended and caught a cab to Bond Street, where we loitered in a convenient doorway until our quarry emerged. The fellow had no suspicion that he was being followed. He led us to a public house called the Harp, and we gave him a few minutes before following him in.
"We’d barely gotten inside the door when the barkeep shouted in the accents of Killarney, ‘Hoy! You! Get that heathen Chinee out of here. His kind’s not welcome.’
"Old Baritsu had a quick mind, for he muttered, "Say I your servant." As I had no better idea, I went along with it. ‘This man is my servant, landlord. He’ll just sit quietly while I have my pint.’"
"The man leaned a meaty pair of forearms on the bar. ‘That he won’t, Englishman, for you’ll not be having your pint here. Now, go where you’re welcome, which is elsewhere!’"
"It was at this point that I made another youthful mistake, Watson. I let my temper get the better of me, brandishing my stick and slanging the bartender and all the Irish race. I was so angry that I did not realize the danger until I noticed in the mirror above the bar that several of the patrons, including McQueen, were advancing on my rear with their shillaleighs raised. As I swung about to face them, I could hear the landlord getting active behind me.
"It was a tight spot, Watson. I was a hearty, fighting-fit lad of twenty-two, but outflanked and outnumbered seven to one was just a bit much. Still, I raised my stick to the oncoming crowd, shifting sideways in an attempt to bring the bartender into my line of vision.
"I saw, instead, a remarkable thing. Old Baritsu met the man as he came around the bar, caught the arm that was swinging a bung-starter, and twisted the weapon out of the man’s hand. The landlord was a foot and a half taller than Baritsu, and twice the weight, but that old man knocked him about as if he were a rag doll. A backhanded slap across the eyes – which, as a medical man, you know would upset the pineal gland and cloud the vision – followed by a blow to the neck with the calloused edge of the hand, and the brute went down and stayed down.
"The sheer audacity of the thing froze us all for a moment – all except Baritsu. In one smooth pirouette, he launched himself at the closest of my attackers, catching the man on the temple with a boot-heel. While I brought up my stick and played for blood, Baritsu milled his way into the attackers with kicks and hand-chops too quick to follow. I bested two of them, while he pummelled the other four half senseless. Knowing they were beaten, they took to their heels, but I caught McQueen’s collar before he could clear the door. I hauled his wrist up between his shoulder-blades and forced his face into the wall. ‘Now, Mister McQueen,’ I said, ‘what have you done with Mrs. Farintosh’s diamonds?’
"His reply was not repeatable in polite company. I needed an answer quickly, for I’d heard a police-whistle outside. Holding him pinned, I looked around to ensure that the barkeep was still down, and I noticed something I should have seen earlier, but for the fracas. The ears, Watson! McQueen and the barman had the same ears! You know of my monograph on the shapes of ears, and how they run in families. I applied a bit more pressure, and growled, ‘Give them up now, before your brother wakes up and shops you to get his own sentence cut. We could tear this place apart to find them, for we’re certain the diamonds are here, but you can save us the trouble and perhaps do yourself a bit of good with the judge.’ He still shook his head, so I continued, ‘Don’t be a fool, man! It’s grand larceny, and you’ll be an old man by the time you get out, if you don’t buy yourself a little consideration now. The blues are at the door! What’s it to be?’
"McQueen was nearly weeping, whether from the knowledge of failure or the arm-lock I do not know, but he choked out, ‘Money belt. He has ‘em in his money belt.’ I pushed him into the arms of the constable who entered at that moment, and quickly stripped the money belt from the still unconscious brother.
"’Wot’s all this?’ demanded the constable.
"‘This,’ I told him, ‘is the loot from the diamond theft at Aspinall’s.’ I opened the belt and poured the diamonds out upon the table. The constable’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re about to make a very important arrest, my good fellow. I am Sherlock Holmes, the consulting detective, and I give these men in charge as the thief and receiver."
"Well, it took a bit of sorting out at the station, but Peter and James McQueen were charged, and young Baritsu freed, to his amazement and his father’s delight. Harley Aspinall, that excellent man, insisted on a written apology from Mrs. Farintosh to Soichiro Baritsu, which the fellow framed and hung over his work-bench. Father and son visited my rooms, and Hideo Baritsu attempted to pay me the twelve pounds he’d promised. ‘There is something I value more than your money, sir,’ I told him. ‘Tell me how you bested those men.’
"‘This what I teach,’ said the old man. ‘Long ago, Japanese law was made that only noble saumarai may carry weapons. Common people have much trouble with bandits, so must learn to fight with no weapon. In Japanese, we call this karate, which mean empty hand. Very old art, old science. Take many year to become master.’
"‘If you would teach me,’ I said, ‘I would be greatly obliged to you.’
"‘No, Mister Holmes,’ he said. ‘We obliged to you. You save Baritsu family honor. You have lessons, long as you like, no charge.’
"That, Watson, is how I came to learn the Oriental fighting arts. I studied with Sensei Baritsu for fourteen years, and when advancing infirmity forced him to retire at the remarkable age of ninety-two, I continued to study under his star pupil and successor, Sensei Hiro Takashima. I am a student still. Have you never wondered where I go off to on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, unless a case is in hand?"
"I have wondered," I stuttered, "but I didn’t like to ask. If you must know, I thought you were visiting a lady friend."
Holmes arched an eyebrow at me. "Not on Tuesdays and Thursdays, old friend. Not on Tuesdays and Thursdays."