The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton: Part One

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I'm Hugh Bonneville and welcome to Sherlock Holmes Short Stories, the series where we delve into the files of fiction's most brilliant detective, following his keen mind and unerring instincts from the first subtle clue to the final dramatic revelation.

This time, we come face to face with one of Sherlock's greatest foes, Charles Augustus Milverton.

This ruthlessly efficient blackmailer has slithered out of the law's grasp for decades, his prey preferring to remain silent rather than have their secrets aired to the public.

Over two thrilling installments, we'll follow Holmes and Watson into the world of Victorian high society, where reputation is everything and secrets are worth killing for.

and witness Holmes unravel a case that will test not just his detective skills, but his very morality.

From the Noiser Podcast Network, this is The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton, Part 1.

Who is he?

I asked.

The worst man in London, Holmes answered, as he sat down and stretched his long legs before the fire.

Is anything on the back of the card?

I turned it over.

We'll call at 6:30, CAM, I read.

Hm.

He's about due.

Do you feel a creeping, shrinking sensation, Watson, when you stand before the serpents in the zoo and see the slithery, gliding, venomous creatures with their deadly eyes and wicked, flattened faces?

Well, that's how Milverton impresses me.

I have had to do with fifty murderers in my career, but the worst of them never gave me the repulsion which I have for this fellow.

And yet I can't get out of doing business with him.

Indeed, he is here at my invitation.

But who is he?

I'll tell you, Watson.

He is the king of all the blackmailers.

Heaven help the man, and still more the woman, whose secret and reputation comes into the power of Milverton.

With a smiling face and a heart of marble, he will squeeze and squeeze until he has drained them dry.

The fellow is a genius in his way, and would have made his mark in some more savoury trade.

His method is as follows.

He allows it to be known that he is prepared to pay very high sums for letters which compromise people of wealth and position.

He receives these wares not only from treacherous valets or maids, but frequently from genteel ruffians who have gained the confidence and affection of trusting women.

He deals with no miserly hand.

I happen to know that he paid £700

to a footman for a note two lines in length, and that the ruin of a noble family was the result.

Everything which is in the market goes to Milverton, and there are hundreds in this great city who turn white at his name.

No one knows where his grip may fall, for he is far too rich and far too cunning to work from hand to mouth.

He will hold a card back for years in order to play it at the moment when the stake is best worth winning.

I have said that he is the worst man in London, and I would ask you: how could one compare the ruffian who in hot blood bludgeons his mate with this man who methodically and at his leisure tortures the soul and wrings the nerves in order to add to his already swollen money bags.

I had seldom heard my friend speak with such intensity of feeling.

But surely, said I, the fellow must be within the grasp of the law.

Technically, no doubt, but practically not.

What would it profit a woman, for example, to get him a few months' imprisonment if her own ruin must immediately follow?

His victims dare not hit back.

If ever he blackmailed an innocent person, then indeed we should have him.

But he is as cunning as the evil one.

No, no.

We must find other ways to fight him.

And why is he here?

Because an illustrious client has placed her piteous case in my hands.

It is the Lady Eva Blackwell, the most beautiful debutante of last season.

She is to be married in a fortnight to the Earl of Dovercourt.

This fiend has several imprudent letters, imprudent, Watson, nothing worse, which were written to an impecunious young squire in the country.

They would suffice to break off the match.

Milverton will send the letters to the Earl unless a large sum of money is paid to him.

I have been commissioned to meet him and to make the best terms I can.

At that instant, there was a clatter and a rattle in the street below.

Looking down, I saw a stately carriage and pair, the brilliant lamps gleaming on the glossy haunches of the noble chestnuts.

A footman opened the door, and a small, stout man in a shaggy astracan overcoat descended.

A minute later, he was in the room.

Charles Augustus Milverton was a man of fifty, with a large intellectual head, a round, plump, hairless face, a perpetual frozen smile, and two keen grey eyes which gleamed brightly from behind broad gold-rimmed glasses.

There was something of Mr.

Pickwick's benevolence in his appearance, marred only by the insincerity of the fixed smile and by the hard glitter of those restless and penetrating eyes.

His voice was as smooth and suave as his countenance as he advanced with a plump little hand extended, murmuring his regret for having missed us at his first visit.

Holmes disregarded the outstretched hand and looked at him with a face of granite.

Milverton's smile broadened.

He shrugged his shoulders, removed his overcoat, folded it with great deliberation over the back of a chair, and then took a seat.

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This gentleman, said he, with a wave in my direction, is it discreet?

Is it right?

Dr.

Watson is my friend and partner.

Very good, Mr.

Holmes.

It is only in your client's interests that I protested.

The matter is so very delicate.

Dr.

Watson has already heard of it.

Then we can proceed to business.

You say that you are acting for Lady Eva.

Has she empowered you to accept my terms?

What are your terms?

Seven thousand pounds.

And the alternative?

My dear sir, it is painful for me to discuss it, but if the money is not paid on the fourteenth, there certainly will be no marriage on the eighteenth.

His insufferable smile was more complacent than ever.

Holmes thought for a little.

You appear to me, he said at last, to be taking matters too much for granted.

I am, of course, familiar with the contents of these letters.

My client will certainly do what I may advise.

I shall counsel her to tell her future husband the whole story and to trust to his generosity.

Milverton chuckled.

You evidently do not know the Earl, said he.

From the baffled look upon Holmes's face, I could see clearly that he did.

What harm is there in the letters?

he asked.

They are

sprightly, very sprightly, Milberton answered.

The lady was a charming correspondent, but I can assure you that the Earl of Dovercourt would fail to appreciate them.

However, since you think otherwise, we will let it rest at that.

It is purely a matter of business.

If you think that it is in the best interests of your client that these letters should be placed in the hands of the Earl, then you would indeed be foolish to pay so large a sum of money to regain them.

He rose and seized his Astrakhan coat.

Holmes was grey with anger and mortification.

Wait a little, he said.

You go too fast.

We should certainly make every effort to avoid scandal in so delicate a matter.

Milverton relapsed into his chair.

I was sure that you would see it in that light, he purred.

At the same time, Holmes continued, Lady Eva is not a wealthy woman.

I assure you that two thousand pounds would be a drain upon her resources, and that the sum you name is utterly beyond her power.

I beg, therefore, that you will moderate your demands, and that you will return the letters at the price I indicate, which is, I assure you, the highest that you can get.

Milverton's smile broadened, and his eyes twinkled humorously.

I am aware that what you say is true about the lady's resources, said he.

At the same time, you must admit that the occasion of a lady's marriage is a very suitable time for her friends and relatives to make some little effort upon her behalf.

They may hesitate as to an acceptable wedding present.

Let me assure them that this little bundle of letters would give more joy than all the candelabra and butter dishes in London.

It is impossible, said Holmes.

Dear me, dear me, how unfortunate cried Milverton, taking out a bulky pocket book.

I cannot help thinking that ladies are ill-advised in not making an effort.

Look at this.

He held up a little note with a coat of arms upon the envelope.

That belongs to

Well, perhaps it is hardly fair to tell the name until to morrow morning, but at that time it will be in the hands hands of the lady's husband, and all because she will not find a beggarly sum which she could get by turning her diamonds into paste.

It is such a pity.

Now, you remember the sudden end of the engagement between the Honourable Miss Miles and Colonel Dorking.

Only two days before the wedding, there was a paragraph in the Morning Post to say that it was all off.

And why?

It is almost incredible, but the absurd sum of twelve hundred pounds would have settled the whole question.

Is it not pitiful?

And here I find you, a man of sense, boggling about terms, when your client's future and honour are at stake.

You surprise me, Mr.

Holmes.

What I say is true, Holmes answered.

The money cannot be found.

Surely it is better for you to take the substantial sum which I offer than to ruin this woman's career, which can profit you in no way.

There you make a mistake, Mr.

Holmes.

An exposure would profit me indirectly to a considerable extent.

I have eight or ten similar cases maturing.

If it was circulated among them that I had made a severe example of the lady Eva, I should find all of them much more open to reason.

You see my point?

Holmes sprang from his chair.

Get behind him, Watson.

Don't let him out.

Now, sir, let us see the contents of that notebook.

Wilverton had glided as quick as a rat to the side of the room and stood with his back against the wall.

Mr.

Holmes, Mr.

Holmes, he said, turning the front of his coat and exhibiting the butt of a large revolver which projected from the inside pocket, I have been expecting you to do something original.

This has been done so often and what good has ever come from it.

I assure you that I am armed to the teeth and I am perfectly prepared to use my weapons knowing that the law will support me.

Besides, your supposition that I would bring the letters here in a notebook is entirely mistaken.

I would do nothing so foolish.

And now, gentlemen, I have one or two little interviews this evening, and it is a long drive to Hampstead.

He stepped forward, took up his coat,

laid his hand on his revolver,

and turned to the door.

I picked up a chair, but Holmes shook his head, and I laid it down again.

With a bow, a smile, and a twinkle, Milverton was out of the room.

And a few moments after, we heard the slam of the carriage door and the rattle of the wheels as he drove away.

Holmes sat motionless by the fire, his hands buried deep in his trouser pockets, his chin sunk upon his breast, his eyes fixed upon the glowing embers.

For half an hour he was silent and still.

Then, with the gesture of a man who has taken his decision, he sprang to his feet and passed into his bedroom.

A little later, a rakish young workman with a goatee beard and a swagger lit his clay pipe at the lamp before descending into the street.

I'll be back some time, Watson, said he, and vanished into the night.

I understood that he had opened his campaign against Charles Augustus Milverton, but I little dreamed the strange shape which that campaign was destined to take.

For some days Holmes came and went at all hours in this attire, but beyond a remark that his time was spent at Hampstead and that it was not wasted, I knew nothing of what he was doing.

At last, however, on a wild, tempestuous evening, when the wind screamed and rattled against the windows, he returned from his last expedition, and having removed his disguise, he sat before the fire and laughed heartily in his silent inward fashion.

You would not call me a marrying man, Watson?

No, indeed.

You'll be interested to hear that I'm engaged.

My dear fellow, I congratulate Milverton's housemaid.

Good heavens, Holmes.

I wanted information, Watson.

Oh, surely you have gone too far.

It was a most necessary step.

I am a plumber with a rising business, Escott, by name.

I have walked out with her each evening, and I have talked with her.

Good heavens, those talks.

However, I have got all I wanted.

I know Milverton's house as I know the palm of my hand.

But the girl, Holmes.

He shrugged his shoulders.

You can't help it, my dear Watson.

You must play your cards as best you can when such a stake is on the table.

However, I rejoice to say that I have a hated rival who will certainly cut me out the instant that my back is turned.

What a splendid night it is.

You like this weather?

It suits my purpose.

Watson, I mean to burgle Milverton's house tonight.

I had a catching of the breath, and my skin went cold at the words, which were slowly uttered in a tone of concentrated resolution.

As a flash of lightning in the night shows up in an instant every detail of a wild landscape, so at one glance I seemed to see every possible result of such an action.

The detection, the capture.

the honoured career ending in irreparable failure and disgrace, my friend himself lying at the mercy of the odious Milberton.

For heaven's sake, Holmes, think what you are doing, I cried.

My dear fellow, I have given it every consideration.

I am never precipitate in my actions, nor would I accept so energetic and indeed so dangerous a course if any other were possible.

Let us look at the matter clearly and fairly.

I suppose that you will admit that the action is morally justifiable, though technically criminal.

To burgle his house is no more than to forcibly take his pocket-book, an action in which you were prepared to aid me.

I turned it over in my mind.

Yes, I said, it is morally justifiable so long as our object is to take no articles save those which are used for an illegal purpose.

Exactly.

Since it is morally justifiable, I have only to consider the question of personal risk.

Surely a gentleman should not lay much stress upon this when a lady is in most desperate need of his help.

You will be in such a false position.

Well, that is part of the risk.

There is no other possible way of regaining these letters.

The unfortunate lady has not the money, and there are none of her people in whom she could confide.

Tomorrow is the last day of grace, and unless we can get the letters tonight, this villain will be as good as his word and will bring about her ruin.

I must, therefore, abandon my client to her fate, or

I must play this last card.

Mike and Alyssa are always trying to outdo each other.

When Alyssa got a small water bottle, Mike showed up with a four-litre jug.

When Mike started gardening, Alyssa started beekeeping.

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They called a truce for their holiday and used Expedia Trip Planner to collaborate on all the details of their trip.

Once there, Mike still did more laps around the pool.

Whatever.

You were made to outdo your holidays.

We were made to help organize the competition.

Expedia, made to travel.

Between ourselves, Watson, it's a sporting duel between this fellow Milverton and me.

He had, as you saw, the best of the first exchanges.

But my self-respect and my reputation are concerned to fight it to a finish.

Well, I don't like it, But I suppose it must be, said I.

When do we start?

You are not coming.

Then you are not going, said I.

I give you my word of honour, and I never broke it in my life, that I will take a cab straight to the police station and give you away unless you let me share this adventure with you.

You can't help me.

How do you know that?

You can't tell me what may happen.

Anyway, my resolution is taken.

Other people besides you have self-respect self-respect and even reputations.

Holmes had looked annoyed, but his brow cleared and he clapped me on the shoulder.

Well, well, my dear fellow, be it so.

We have shared this same room for some years, and it would be amusing if we ended by sharing the same cell.

You know, Watson, I don't mind confessing to you that I have always had an idea that I would have made a highly efficient criminal.

This is the chance of my lifetime in that direction.

See here.

He took a neat little leather case out of a drawer, and opening it, he exhibited a number of shining instruments.

This is a first-class, up-to-date burgling kit, with nickel-plated jemmy, diamond-tipped glass cutter, adaptable keys, and every modern improvement which the march of civilization demands.

Here, too, is my dark lantern.

Everything is in order.

Have you a pair of silent shoes?

I have rubber-soled tennis shoes.

Excellent.

And a mask?

I can make a couple out of black silk.

I can see that you have a strong natural turn for this sort of thing.

Very good.

Do you make the masks?

We shall have some cold supper before we start.

It is now nine thirty.

At eleven we shall drive as far as Church Row.

It is a quarter of an hour's walk from there to Appledore Towers.

We shall be at work before midnight.

Milverton is a heavy sleeper and retires punctually at 10.30.

With any luck, we should be back here by two, with the Lady Eva's letters in my pocket.

Holmes and I put on our dress clothes so that we might appear to be two theatre-goers homeward bound.

In Oxford Street, we picked up a handsome cab and drove to an address in Hampstead.

Here, we paid off our cab, and with our great coats buttoned up, for it was bitterly cold and the wind seemed to blow through us, we walked along the edge of the heath.

It's a business that needs delicate treatment, said Holmes.

These documents are contained in a safe in the fellow's study, and the study is the ante-room of his bedchamber.

On the other hand, like all these stout little men who do themselves well, he is a plethoric sleeper.

Agatha, that's my fiancée, says it is a joke in the servants' hall that it's impossible to wake the master.

He has a secretary who is devoted to his interests and never budges from the study all day.

That's why we are going at night.

Then he has a beast of a dog which roams the garden.

I met Agatha late the last two evenings, and she locks the brute up so as to give me a clear run.

This is the house, this big one in its own grounds.

Through the gate,

now to the right among the laurels.

we might put on our masks here i think

you see there is not a glimmer of light in any of the windows

and everything is working splendidly

Next time on Sherlock Holmes short stories, our heroes become criminals as they execute a burglary in the dead of night.

Milverton comes face to face with a ghost from the past, and Sherlock learns that sometimes for justice truly to be served, one must turn a blind eye.

That's next time.

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Head to www.noiser.com slash subscriptions for more information.

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