He was a kind of Italian piece-work man, who made himself useful in the shop.He could carve a bit and gild and frame, and do odd jobs.The fellow left me last week, and I've heard nothing of him since.No, I don't know where he came from nor where he went to.I have nothing against him while he was here.He was gone two days before the bust was smashed.""Well, that's all we could reasonably expect to get from Morse Hudson," said Holmes, as we emerged from the shop."We have this Beppo as a common factor, both in Kennington and in Kensington, so that is worth a ten-mile drive.Now, Watson, let us make for Gelder and Co., of Stepney, the source and origin of busts.
I shall be surprised if we don't get some help down there."In rapid succession we passed through the fringe of fashionable London, hotel London, theatrical London, literary London, commercial London, and, finally, maritime London, till we came to a riverside city of a hundred thousand souls, where the tenement houses swelter and reek with the outcasts of Europe.
Here, in a broad thoroughfare, once the abode of wealthy City merchants, we found the sculpture works for which we searched.
Outside was a considerable yard full of monumental masonry.
Inside was a large room in which fifty workers were carving or moulding.The manager, a big blond German, received us civilly, and gave a clear answer to all Holmes's questions.A reference to his books showed that hundreds of casts had been taken from a marble copy of Devine's head of Napoleon, but that the three which had been sent to Morse Hudson a year or so before had been half of a batch of six, the other three being sent to Harding Brothers, of Kensington.There was no reason why those six should be different to any of the other casts.He could suggest no possible cause why anyone should wish to destroy them -- in fact, he laughed at the idea.Their wholesale price was six shillings, but the retailer would get twelve or more.