How Holmes Located “Captain Levinson’s Umbrella”
Esteemed Detectives,
Captain Levinson’s Umbrella has been found, and the curious case surrounding its disappearance has been laid to rest — Miss Stokes can now enjoy her new home with a treasure in hand (and her burgling brother behind bars.) If you find yourself wondering how Holmes caught onto this culprit, and shone a light on the captain’s treasure, take a look at his solution below.
Our next case awaits!
The Dear Holmes Team
——
20 August 1888
Dear Miss Stokes,
Your case has introduced some life to a rather dull August, and for that I am most grateful. Having read your last letter, I believe that I now have all the pieces of this intriguing puzzle. I will propose my solution without further delay.
Upon reading Lestrade’s initial note about the burglary at your house, I, much like the inspector, was perplexed. The fact somebody would go through such lengths for the sake of an umbrella suggested that there was some aspect being overlooked. The umbrella could have been, for some reason as yet unknown, valuable I considered, if not, then the target of this “burglary” was something else altogether. In either case, the first question of this mystery was the same: Who was responsible for the burglary?
Lestrade's report introduced several people to scrutinise, but it was your following letter, including a description of the auction at Hibbard’s, that allowed me to discern our most plausible suspects. These were, namely, your neighbour Mrs. Eveline, your curious window cleaner, the uncouth man at the auction, and your brother Simon. Mrs. Eveline, Simon, and the cleaner were the last people to visit your new house, and the “florid” gentleman at Hibbard’s was worth observing considering the timing of the burglary, which occurred but days after the auction.
I will begin with the latter. The boisterous fellow’s late arrival on the day of the auction prevented him from bidding on the captain’s lot, which raises the question: was his urgent desire to acquire it great enough to warrant breaking into your house? I believe not. This man plays no part in this mystery, for none of the evidence you have gathered suggests an interest in the stolen umbrella on his part. In fact, there is more evidence yet in his favour.
From his appearance in the auction room, the “portly gentleman” of middle years hardly seems to be an athletic man. Meanwhile, the police report stated that the footprints beneath your scullery window, which itself was said to be small, were merely “slight impressions” from a single person. These plain facts preclude the strange bidder from being the burglar, though there is more to explain. I surmise that this gentleman was Mr. George Thomas, the instrument maker Mrs. Eveline recently encountered at your doorstep. As indicated by his unannounced visit to your property and his behaviour at the auction house, Mr. Thomas was interested in the captain’s lot. Were he the thief, however, he would have been foolish to return to your house after the burglary. Even if he had failed to take something crucial, why then return in broad daylight, announcing himself so loudly?
Mr. Thomas’s confusing behaviour can best be understood by sorting out Mrs. Eveline’s own misunderstanding. Although the gentleman is an instrument maker “from M and T”, he is not, as your neighbour assumed, “a music man”. It is the sextant from the makers Maplin & Thomas, or “M & T”, within the captain’s lot that has been his sole interest. It is unique, being the very first of its type, designed specifically for the Royal Navy hence bearing the serial number RN0001. I would not be surprised if you encountered him again, a generous offer for the sextant in hand. Mrs. Eveline too, I suspect will continue to visit your home, but this is a matter of personality. You have provided no evidence suggesting that Mrs. Eveline has any motive to rob you of the captain’s lot or otherwise. She demonstrates an interest in befriending her neighbours and, arguably, earning praise for her confections. Likewise, as Lestrade has already confirmed, you need not worry about your window cleaner. He may have startled you, but we have no substantial evidence indicating he is responsible for the burglary.
Now, let us turn our attention to Captain Levinson’s lot, which included not only the sextant, but the stolen umbrella, a writing slope, and amongst other items, a miniature model of the S.S. Sucuri in a bottle. I believe that therein lies the key to this whole affair. You noted in your report to Lestrade, as well as in your first letter to me, that some days after the reading of your mother’s will and the division of her estate, your brother Simon came to your house asking for money. When I first read of this, it seemed unremarkable, especially so after you confirmed that he often visited under similar circumstances. It was after reading your last letter that I realised his visit was truly integral to your case. That letter, which described the hidden message in Captain Levinson’s writing slope, brought to mind several details from your earlier descriptions of Simon’s visit. With those details in mind, I swiftly solved the mystery of your stolen umbrella.
Consider the cryptic message that the captain left. Clearly he did not want his “treasure” to be easily found, or he would not have started by hiding the note so cautiously. Yet, concealing it in a hidden compartment in a writing slope was not the captain’s final element of security. The message itself is constructed in such a way as to mislead those who simply wish to turn an easy profit from “the land’s treasure”. Look once more, not only at the wording of the message but also at how it might be applied to the stolen umbrella and the form of its handle.
“The key to the treasure of Manaos lies within the furls of the Anaconda.”
As you have noted, the eyes set in the snake-like, carved handle of the umbrella from Lot 7 were lustrous and grass green... typical of the colour of emeralds, which are mined in Brazil. To someone reading the captain’s hidden message, the umbrella might appear to be the “Anaconda” in question, and therefore, worthy of burglary. Knowing this, analyse again your brother’s actions.
At your house, Simon had asked you for money before leaving unseen and without notice. One day later, someone had broken into your home and taken nothing but the captain’s umbrella. More than a week after this, a note has now been left at your place of work, promising a “more sincere visit” from Simon. Miss Stokes, surely you understand what I am suggesting. I do regret to inform you that Simon is responsible for the burglary on the 3rd of August.
When he asked you for the loan of £50, Simon had already examined all your purchases and had the captain’s writing slope open on his knee. He tapped upon it “like a drum” as he spoke to you. I posit this was one of the first ways in which your brother verified the presence of another compartment within the slope. Then, once you went to your bedroom to retrieve your purse, he more thoroughly inspected the slope and discovered the hidden “button” along the bottom. Opening the corresponding drawers, he found and read the message from the captain, revealing the existence of the treasure.
On hearing you descend the staircase, Simon hurriedly crumpled the message and tossed it beneath the drawers with ivory pulls. He replaced the lid to the compartment without thought, failing to restore the “I” button to its original position, and fled your home. At that time, Simon was no doubt confident that he knew the location of the treasure, as he had already examined the captain’s serpent-like umbrella. He believed the secret to the treasure was within its furls, and for him, it was now simply a case of finding an appropriate time to enter your house alone. He seized the perfect opportunity whilst you were out at the Adelphi on the night of the 3rd.
That evening, Simon forced your scullery window. As he climbed through it, his shirt cuffs, which are habitually stained by snuff, grazed the frame and left behind a small amount of brown “dust”. He spent barely a minute or so gathering the umbrella from the coat stand. Perhaps to add some confusion, he made a mess of your kitchen before turning out the tea chests and scattering the other items in your drawing room. Then he was gone. Simon believed that in taking the captain’s umbrella, he had retrieved the key to his treasure... but I must disagree. He, like Mrs. Eveline, has erred in his interpretation of the facts.
The key to Captain Levinson’s treasure, and perhaps its location, lies not in the snake-eyed umbrella but rather within the furled sails of the captain’s ship in the bottle! You mentioned that the captain taught himself Portuguese and, if you recall the name of his vessel, you will realise the importance of this learning. The name for an anaconda is, in Brazilian Portuguese, “Sucuri”. Might I suggest that you take your miniature S.S. Sucuri to, perhaps, a conservator at the British Museum?
Once there, politely ask them to open the bottle and, with the utmost care, to unfurl the sails. The “Anaconda” might then engage you with its grass-green eyes and, if I am correct, lead you to “the land’s treasure”. Your friend Isobel explained that the port of Manaos was worked by many native peoples, some of whom would have surely been former miners. You also described a photograph suggesting that the captain was involved in the foundation of a new mine. I suspect his treasure comprises a collection of valuables accumulated throughout such ventures.
As regards your brother: In light of his recent uncharacteristic “apology”, I am confident that Simon has realised the umbrella is relatively worthless and that he has failed to find the key to the captain’s treasure. I expect he intends to survey your purchases again in pursuit of it. I have already apprised Inspector Lestrade of these developments and he will coordinate with you and Constable Jenkins to ensure that one of his men is present for the planned visit, shackles in hand.
Should you require any more assistance before then, do not hesitate to send word to Inspector Lestrade or myself. I wish you the best of luck in your new home, Miss Stokes, and I look forward to hearing news of Captain Levinson’s treasure.
Sincerely yours,
