The Thief's Glove
The Thief's Glove (In the manner of Conan-Doyle) is a French Sherlock Holmes pastiche written by Yves Maisonneuve published in Ganterie (Year 13 No. 3) in march 1931.
In the magazine, the story was written in 3 languages : French (Le Gant de la voleuse), English (The Thief's Glove) and Spanish (El Guante de la Ladrona). English version below:
The Thief's Glove
We had just finished our coffee, which, at my suggestion, had been followed by a glass of port and a brown cigar of a good brand. Cheered up by this little extra (which, according to his humour, he would as readily have pronounced ridiculous and detestable), Holmes chatted gaily and related to me sundry very amusing anecdotes, at the hazard of his recollections, and in which — need I say it? — the official police always played but a sorry part.
He had been talking in this way for nearly three quarters of an hour, yielding his lean body to the lulling oscillations of his rocking-chair, when two repeated knocks at our door arrested on his lips the first words of a fresh story.
"Come in!" said he, with a dissatisfied growl, for he did not like to be disturbed during the hour of digestion.
But already a red and sweating fellow made his irruption into the room, jostling the servant who was preparing to announce him.
"Sir!" he cried in a breathless voice, rushing towards Holmes, "I have just been robbed of one hundred pounds in the public street!"
"That proves that you are rich, Sir, replied my friend, regarding him with an ironical air.
He wanted to punish him for his want of ceremony and his ill-manners.
But the other did not appear to have heard him. He went on, while wiping his fat face:
"Yes, Sir! in the public street..., at one o'clock in the afternoon..., not forty minutes ago."
"So you noticed the time when you were robbed?" enquired Holmes, putting aside his mocking expression.
"Yes, Sir! I perceived it all right..., or at least I did a few minutes later... Oh! I ought to have got out of the car at once..., but I could not suspect that young girl. She was well-dressed..., and she looked so innocent..., I would never have imagined her capable of such an action!"
"Why?" asked my friend... "This girl you speak of and who has robbed you-did you know her then?"
"Yes!" that is to say, No! But I have frequently, noticed her, "went on the stout man in an uneasy manner. I saw her often in the street, at that hour..."
Holmes got up and went and tapped him on the shoulder with a familiarity to which he was not accustomed.
"Ha! ha!" said he. "I see, old chap, that we are not insensible to feminine charms. It's all right..., but you should be prudent. Tell me, have you any idea who your thief is?"
"No, Sir! not the least. I had no information about her before I made her the offer to... hem! hem! — After all, it was quite natural—the circumstances pushed me to it. But, let me tell you how it all took place."
"That is unnecessary," said Holmes. "I know all about it, or nearly."
The other looked at him in astonishment.
Holmes continued: "It is I who will relate the adventure to you. Stop me if I make any mistakes. Now, let me see, my dear Sir, you are a great sportsman, aren't you? The newspaper sticking out of your pocket is proof of that. So you were on your way, in your motor-car, to see the Derby, at Epsom, which takes place to-day. Just as you arrived at one of those numerous starting stations for motor-buses going to Epsom, you had the pleasure of perceiving, among the crowd awaiting their turn, the pretty girl you had so often noticed in this district. One of the buses had just gone off, full up, and she was left alone. A courteous thought at once germed in your chivalrous and generous mind. You stopped your car, and, with incomparable elegance, you offered this girl a place in it.
"You are a wizard!" stammered the red-faced man.
"Merely a detective," corrected Holmes, with a faint smile. "So, my dear Sir, we have arrived at the critical point of our mishap. It was at that precise moment that you were relieved of your pocket-book. But here my information stops. I leave the rest of the story to you."
"Well, Sir! The girl at once eagerly accepted. So I helped her into the car and she sat down at my side. But immediately she seemed to have a movement of recoil. She got up, jostling me: 'Wait,' said she; 'with your permission I will take pussy.'"
"'Pussy?' I enquired, 'who is that young man?" She burst out into laughter: 'It's not a young man,' she said; 'it's a rough-haired fox' terrier. I could not take him in the bus, but he won't bother us in the car'.
"She jumped lightly to the ground, and then disappeared in the crowd. I waited one minute — five minutes — a quarter of an hour — there was no sign of her. I began to have suspicions. Instinctively I put my hand in my pocket — my pocket-book was gone!"
"So!" cut in Holmes, "you raised the alarm-you informed the police. And then, reflecting that I lived close at hand, you had the idea of applying to me. You did rightly, for it is doubtful that the police will find you thief. I presume the description you gave of her is wanting in precision. Everybody knows that men are incapable of describing a lady's attire."
"Yes, indeed," agreed our client; "I said the girl was blond and that she wore a dark-blue costume — but I was unable to give other particulars. However, here is a piece of her attire which I have kept for you, and which will perhaps serve as a clue. I found it in the car, where she had let it fall in her haste to get away. See!"
It was a glove; he held it out to Holmes, who placed it on the table without even examining it.
"You may go!" said my friend. "Leave me your name and address, and come back to-morrow. To-day I am too busy."
"Oh! Sir," entreated the stout man "I would be so glad if you could begin your investigations at once. I dare not go home: my wife did not want me to risk that money at the races. She thought I would be sure to lose it. What a dust she will raise! And how am I to explain — how can I tell her about — well, about the girl?"
"Don't tell her anything," said Holmes, laughing. Don't go home till to-night; say you have been to the Derby, but, up to the last moment, remembering her admonitions, you did not risk a bet."
"But she'll want to see my hundred pounds intact! She'll want to make sure that I haven't lost them. She is so afraid! If you only knew her, Sir! She nearly tore my eyes out!"
"The devil!" replied Holmes. "Why did you marry a Fury? Anyway, that doesn't matter. Show her some other notes, and don't worry."
The miserable man left, not in the least reassured.
When we were once more alone, Sherlock Holmes broke out into a deep-toned and prolonged fit of laughter.
"Did you see him, Watson?" he exclaimed, giving me a friendly dig. Wasn't he comical? What a jovial adventure! That will teach him."
"All the same," said I, somewhat moved, "this poor man has been a victim of theft. It is not very agreeable for him."
Holmes made no reply, but he took the little glove left by our visitor and held it up before his eyes.
"Oh! feminine charm!" he murmured, with an enraptured smile. "What elegance! What grace in this simple little tissue, made for the adornment of the rosy and tapering fingers of which it retains the shape! Look! Watson. How soft it is — and discreetly perfumed ! How resting is this beautiful vision after the perspiring slug who inflicted his loathsome presence on us for a quarter of an hour!"
I had never seen him so poetic. He went on again, changing his tone and boiling with an indignation that purpled his waxen face.
"And to think that that hog's hoofs have touched this delicious object! To think that this ignoble and odious beast dared to lust after that being of youth and beauty who possessed this adorable little suede glove!"
"A thief, Holmes," I growled out, lightly mocking.
"How do you know, Sir?" he thundered, turning his ire against me. "What warrant have you for judging people without knowing them, and for condemning them without having heard them? Really, these are new proceedings!"
I imagined that his intention was to laugh at me, and, not being in the humour to accept that, I did not pursue the discussion.
A minute later, without saying a word, he scribbled a letter, which he handed to our errand-boy, instructing him to wait for an answer.
"I have several matters in hand," he said to me, after a few instants of silence, without appearing to remember our recent dispute. "They all interest me greatly, but one of them particularly occupies my attention."
"I am certain you will carry it through successfully," I replied eagerly (for I never bore ill-will for any of his hasty outbursts).
"I hope so, too," said he. "I have already formed a hypothesis, and I shall soon know if it is a correct one."
He did not wait long. Half an hour afterwards the boy came back from his errand, with the letter that Holmes was expecting.
Hardly had the latter opened it than he uttered a joyful exclamation.
"I was right! That's exactly it!"
Did it concern the theft of the hundred pounds or was it something else? Though I was dying to know, I did not venture to interrogate my friend, and the day passed without our having again reverted to the big, fat man, the little suede glove, and the pretty thief.
The next day, about half past one, our visitor of the previous day arrived, in accordance with Holmes' instructions. He must have passed an anxious night, for his eyes were lined with fatigue and his skin was discoloured. He came in, his clothing in disarray, his hair badly combed — and, advancing tremblingly towards Holmes :
"Well, Sir," he stammered in a weeping voice. "Have you taken up my affair?"
"What affair?" asked Holmes, as if he did not recognise him, and with the obvious intention of prolonging his misery.
The ruddy man appeared disconcerted.
"Why!" said he, "the affair of my hundred pounds — the theft in my motor-car, almost under my own eyes."
"Oh; yes," cried the detective, "I remember, the affair of the glove. Yes, of course, I see — really a very curious matter."
The stout man was wild with anxiety and impatience.
"That woman! that vixen!" he cried, gasping for breath. "Did you find out who she is?"
"Do you refer to the girl you invited to go with you to the Derby, yesterday?
"Why, yes, of course."
"No, I have not identified her. But I admit I would be pleased to make her acquaintance. I'll take my hat and accompany you. We are going to give her back her glove. Poor little dear! What a state she must be in! Will you come, Watson?"
The visitor looked at him, scandalised. And though I was used to the excentricities of this prodigious man, I could not resist a movement of surprise.
We went off, all three.
"Where do you expect to find her?" inquired our client, as we were going down the stairs.
"Take me to the place where you have been used to seeing her," replied Holmes. "I should be surprised if we don't find her there."
"Nonsense!" protested the ruddy man. She is not quite so silly as to show herself in the district now."
"Very well! Then I leave you."
Holmes turned away. The fat man apologised.
"I have confidence in you; I am at your disposal," said he, woefully.
And two minutes later, he uttered an oath:
"Great Scot! There she is;"
His short arm pointed to a young, fair, slight girl, who was passing on the opposite pavement.
"Wait here," commanded Holmes. She must not see you. I am going to speak to her. Come, Watson!"
We crossed the street. Holmes approached the girl, who stopped, surprised. Elegantly yet simply dressed, she was really a pretty girl, with a childish mouth and large clear grey eyes, both quick and candid.
Holmes bowed to her respectfully and, holding out her glove:
"I have brought you this little object which you forgot in the blackguard's car last night."
"Oh!" exclaimed she, in a bird-like voice, "You know — you know that man?"
"Alas!" replied Holmes with a comically sad expression. I am not proud of his acquaintance!"
"Was I really in very great danger with him?" she again asked.
"Oh! not a very great danger, but still some danger."
"I still wonder why I accepted. was annoyed at missing the bus, and I thoughtlessly responded to his offer. But immediately after I understood who I was dealing with, so I invented the pretext of my dog."
Holmes again bowed, and we returned to our simpleton.
"That child was innocent," said Holmes to him. "Go back home; you will find your pocket-book there, and your wife will explain everything. I may add that she in unacquainted with the circumstances in which you perceived its disappearance; I have not told her a word about your exploit. As for my fee, don't trouble about that. I have been well paid by the fright you got."
And he led me away, leaving his client petrified where he stood.
"Holmes! will you explain?" I cried, as we were going into the house.
He looked at me with commiseration.
"Didn't you understand," said he at last, "that it was the worthy spouse of that scoundrel who confiscated his pocket-book? I suspected it at once. And I wrote her at last, to obtain confirmation of my supposition. At the same time, I advised her to keep silence on the subject until this morning. As he had not said a word to her about the theft (acting on my advice), she had every right to play him this trick and make him pass a sleepless night. It will be an excellent lesson for him. You would not believe, my dear fellow, how delighted I am!"
Yves MAISONNEUVE.
