How Holmes Snuffed Out a Godless Scheme

Dear Investigators,

The Adventure of the Little God, and what quickly became a murder investigation, have finally come to a close. Thanks to your dedication, those around Sir Horace know the truth about his killer, and Reverend Clarke’s name has been restored.

For those who may be wondering if they caught the right culprit (and all the clues along the way!), there’s no better place to look than Holmes’ own analysis of the case. Did you manage to spot every sign of our suspect?

Mystery awaits,

The Dear Holmes Team

——

25 July, 1896

My Dear Watson,

Thanks to a lull in events here, I have been able to devote some time to your Aztec statue matter and I believe I have hit upon the solution. As time is of the essence, I have already wired Lestrade so he can act. Please show him this letter for a detailed explanation as soon as you are able.

I had to admit that Lestrade’s theory initially appeared to be sound. But if the Reverend required funds, why could he not simply seek a loan to cover his tracks? Being a man of the cloth, I struggle to imagine any bank in London refusing him the necessary funds. He would be viewed as a safe client, and the man would have had an entire congregation to vouch for him too. I believe he only approached Sir Horace because of their closeness and in the belief that there would be fewer questions.

Further, if he had stolen the statue, then the act of selling it– no matter how discreetly– would have all but invited blackmail and inevitable exposure. The thought of him executing this crime in hopes of profit did not ring true.

So, where do we turn next? No doubt Mr. Michael Hall was a somewhat suspicious individual. Described by Mrs. Arnold as a “giant brute,” already in conflict with Sir Horace, and in danger of losing an expensive court case, he had much to gain. Lestrade ruled him out as having no reason to take the statue. This was profoundly wrong. Mr. Hall had every motivation to take the statue once he learned of it from the Reverend. Not because he desired it but because it would provide the perfect way for him to murder Sir Horace and direct attention elsewhere. That said, I later considered him highly unlikely for reasons I will soon put forth.

If no one else knew of the purchase of Sir Horace’s statue, then we must look to his own household. As Lestrade observed, the maid, Alice, is not plausible as a suspect. She had no motive and the statue would be the last thing she would steal when she had access to the entire house. She is also far from appearing to be a tall man in black.

The same applies to Mrs. Arnold, but her brother fits the description rather well. Lestrade, in his latest letter, attested to the fact that Mr. Maxwell towered over him when told about the death of his father. Both he and his sister believed, erroneously, that their father’s will would be executed as written if he died– leaving them both at a disadvantage. Remember that Mr. Maxwell’s mood improved when he was informed that this was an inaccurate belief.

Both children of Sir Horace expressed their shock at his will change and hoped he would reverse it. They mentioned this more than once and did discuss other ways of achieving it. Getting their original shares of their father’s estate was clearly important to both of them. That said, I do not believe Mrs. Arnold to have had any involvement.

The evidence all points to Gerald Maxwell. He wanted to drive a wedge between his father and the Reverend. A wedge so large that it would trigger the reversal of the will to its former state. As soon as the statue came into the house, he knew how important it was to his father. If he could make it appear that the Reverend had stolen it, the reversal of the will was almost guaranteed.

We have been told how he pestered his father into inviting the Reverend to see the statue. Even his father was in no rush to do this. Sir Horace eventually did so but was then informed that the Reverend couldn’t come down straight away due to pastoral commitments. A date was, however, set for the future. This was good news for Gerald Maxwell as it gave him additional time.

We know that, in the lead up to the fateful night, Mr. Maxwell had been engaged in a campaign to improve his relationship with his father. He had taken a dedicated interest in the Aztecs. He had read the Reverend’s book and, using the knowledge obtained, he had begun carving Aztec-style ornaments for his father. Sir Horace, by all accounts, genuinely admired these but permitted none in his study– preferring it to contain only legitimate artefacts. Mark that, Watson.

According to Mr. Maxwell, just before the Reverend’s arrival, and in another attempt to curry favour, he presented his father with a table designed to replace one given to Sir Horace by his late wife, whom he adored. Sir Horace is genuinely moved and permits it a place in his study. We know, from Lestrade, that his tantalus stood upon it.

On the agreed date, the Reverend and his daughter arrive in Oxford and deposit their bags at their hotel. They then get a cab to Sir Horace’s home asking to be collected at seven o’clock. I firmly believe the Reverend’s desire for a prompt return to London was to give himself as much time as possible to prepare for the pending church audit.

He is shown the statue and is naturally enamoured of it. He is moved to joke about stealing it which is overheard by Mrs. Arnold who almost certainly, and innocently, told her brother. This was an unexpected bonus for him as he knew it would play into his plan.

Following the early dinner, Reverend Clarke meets with Sir Horace in private. He asks to borrow enough money to cover his indiscretion and hopes that it will be given without question. When, unexpectedly, pushed for a reason he decides, unwisely, to give some of the facts, almost certainly painting it as a clerical oversight. Sir Horace, who worked hard for his reputation, is unconvinced but not to the point where he suspects out and out wrongdoing. Nevertheless, he declines and may have even suggested a bank as an alternative.

The Reverend goes to the drawing room where he sits ashen-faced. Sir Horace, now a little irritated, decides to take it out on his son as he has so often done. Mr. Maxwell is dragged into the study and berated about the table– Mr. Maxwell’s chosen profession being a regular topic of criticism for his father. He is ordered to remove it immediately. Mr. Maxwell begs to be permitted to do it the next day and points to the fact that they have guests. To this, Sir Horace agrees. Mark that also, Watson.

During this, Reverend Clarke sees that seven o’clock is approaching so Mrs. Arnold sees them out in order that they can meet their cab. They then return to the hotel. While there the Reverend does indeed go for a drink and has a brief, indiscreet, conversation with Mr. Hall before going for a walk to think things over. I firmly believe that he did get lost as the only road he knew well was the road to Sir Horace’s home which was not a direction he wanted to go in.

Meanwhile the Maxwell household has retired. At this point the plan begins. Mr. Gerald Maxwell desires to steal the statue. He has no desire to possess it or sell it. He merely needs to make it disappear. That will be enough to cast a shadow over the Reverend. Even if the police do not pursue it, he will keep suggesting to his father that only one man could possibly have taken it. The doubt is all he needs to plant, with his sister’s unwitting help, and, eventually, he feels sure, Sir Horace will reverse his will to cut out the Reverend.

He leaves the house quietly and heads for his workshop in the grounds. Here he collects the necessary tools to force entry through the French windows. He removes enough panels to gain entry and removes them from the scene. Lestrade has not mentioned finding them which argues against an opportunistic act.

Mr. Maxwell has given this plan much thought and concluded some time previously that the police will search the house and grounds for the statue. He cannot therefore hide it in his room or conceal it anywhere the police are likely to look. He also lacks the time to take it far from the house. His absence could be noticed or he could be seen out and about. So, he elected to hide it where no one would ever think to look for it. He will hide it in the very room it now resides.

He enters the study and goes to the pedestal table. Lestrade informed us it is large and ugly. It is large for a reason. He removes the tantalus and turns the table over. He removes a wooden plug or stopper from the base of the wide, central leg. Inside is a compartment. However, the compartment is not empty. A hollow table leg would be unstable. The table needed to be fully functional and robust. From the inside he withdraws a large carving that he has made for this purpose. It almost perfectly fills the hole and is probably secured tightly in place with some wooden wedges to prevent rattling. The plan is to insert the authentic statue into the void, replace the plug and leave with the carving. He can then place this anywhere in the house upon his re-entry.

Then it all begins to go wrong. He uses the same tools that he used to enter the room, to access the case. He abstracts the statue and attempts to insert it inside the table. Here he runs into a problem. You will recall the measurements of the statue as given to us by Miss Clarke. They were smaller than those of the carving. Because he had never been allowed to see the statue closely before making his carving, he had had to make an estimate based on seeing the statue from the garden. It was close but he was about an inch out in height and a bit less in diameter. If inserted into the table as it stood, it would not be possible to secure a tight fit and it would rattle during any subsequent search or movement of the table. This will not do.

He looks around in panic and has an idea. He seizes a copy of his father’s Encyclopaedia Britannica from the nearest bookcase and tears out some pages. These, when screwed up and combined with the original wedges, provide a tight enough fit to alleviate his concern. The table, with statue and pages inside, is returned to its original position and the tantalus replaced.

At this point the plan is to replace the book, and leave the house, in order to re-enter by the front door to the north. He is about to do this when his father unexpectedly unlocks and enters the study– perhaps to work on one of the articles his daughter mentioned. Mr. Maxwell has no way of avoiding being seen. He covers his face with his scarf and his head with his hood and, before Sir Horace can properly appreciate what is going on, lashes out with the carving that was probably on the desk. In his panic, this is a serious blow that sends Sir Horace crashing to the ground. Mr. Maxwell flees out through the French windows and runs round to the front of the house.

Although in a panic he realises he has a problem. The alarm could be raised any moment. He must be in his room, dressed for bed, when it happens. The original plan, where no assault was to occur, was to place the carving somewhere in the house. Now this cannot be safely done due to the blood upon it and the damage that indicates it has struck something hard. He could clean it with his scarf or other apparel but the damage would remain and he would have the problem of disposing of the bloodstained garments. Instead, he turns and secretes the carving deep into some bushes trusting that it will not be found. It is risky but, in the heat of the moment, he sees no option or time to do otherwise.

The later discovery of the carving in the bushes was the first ray of hope, Watson. We knew from the maid that no one was permitted in the study. So how could the killer have used one opportunistically? The study door was locked which prevented access to any located in the hall. Aside from this, there were plenty of other items in the study to strike Sir Horace with. The only people who could get a carving into that room were the Maxwell children or the maid.

Furthermore, if the Reverend were the killer, why would he not get the weapon far from the house? He would have had a whole mile of road to travel and endless places he could have hidden the carving unobserved. He would certainly not leave it close to the scene. This also applies to Mr. Hall. If he had committed the crime, he would surely have carried the carving away and left it close to the hotel to ensure suspicion fell on the Reverend.

The next day, Gerald Maxwell learns of the scale of the injury to his father. He is distraught as he genuinely had no intention to strike him and, through ignorance, believes that Sir Horace’s death will actually be to his financial disadvantage. We already know how he reacted when he later learned this was unlikely to be the case.

This also explains the conversation about removing the table. Mr. Maxwell was nursing some doubts about the fit of the statue inside the central leg. The scene with his father the night before actually worked to his advantage. If he could withdraw the table to his workshop, he could remove the statue at his leisure and find a more permanent hiding place for it. The table itself could then be destroyed.

It must have been maddening for him not to be permitted to do this. Breaking back into the room to liberate the statue was too great a risk. He just had to hope. For him, whether his father lived or died no longer mattered. He was convinced of the success of his disguise. If his father had recognised him, he could easily have mentioned it when first found by Mrs. Arnold– when he was still fairly lucid. If his father recovered, he would get his chance to remove the table and secure a permanent disappearance of the statue. The Reverend, even if the charges were dropped, would be seen as the most plausible suspect by Sir Horace– with help from his children– and almost certainly be written out of the will.

If Sir Horace died, it would be likely that the Reverend would not be allowed to benefit from the will. In that event there was a good chance that share would revert to the blood relations. Mr. Maxwell could then remove the table and statue in his own good time.

In my wire, I have asked Lestrade to ensure he locates the statue in front of witnesses. The only person who could have placed it there is Gerald Maxwell. Sadly, for him, his hiding place is also his confession.

Regrettably, I must now end this letter and resume my hunt for Father Rossi.

Your friend,