The Budget Problem

I would be guilty of an indiscretion if I were to just hint at the identities of several well-born and noble persons who have had reason to consult my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. The very highest in the land it seems, have all found their way to our sitting-room. And the tale I narrate now indeed involves such a personage, he possessed a name renowned and revered throughout the land. At the time he came to consult Holmes, he held the position of Chancellor of the Exchequer in Her Majesty’s Government, a post which illustrated well the respect he had earned from Her Majesty and her First Minister.

He settled himself down in the chair opposite Holmes and as he looked at my friend he appeared to be on the verge of tears, his noble countenance pale and drawn.

“Lord Darling, how may I help you?” asked Holmes in his gentlest manner.

Lord Darling looked across at me and seemed somewhat hesitant to speak. I stood up to excuse myself, but Holmes motioned me to take my seat again. “Whatever you have to say, Lord Darling may be said in front of my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson, he is the soul of discretion. To go further, I would say to you it is both or none. Now, how may we help you?”

“As you may know, I am due to give my account of Her Majesty’s Government financial standing before the House tomorrow.”

“Yes I am aware of that fact,” Holmes remarked, now in his driest manner. “How does that concern Watson and me?”

“Whilst we are all only too painfully aware that we are in the grip of a recession, the picture is much blacker than even you can realise, Mr. Holmes.”

“It has certainly resulted in frugal living even here in Baker Street; I have had recourse to refrain from ordering my finest tobacco and I now have to make the previous days dottles last for a further two days. Watson’s practice has gone into liquidation and the bank is pressing for immediate payment.”

“Holmes,” I remonstrated, “did it occur to you that I may not want everyone to know that sad fact.”

“Yes, my dear fellow, just before I said it. And now, Lord Darling, please tell me why you have to come to consult me on the eve of such an important day for you?”

“The plain truth, Mr. Holmes is that the government is in serious financial difficulties, we have given so much public money to support the ailing banking system that we are at a loose end and know not how to proceed, but that is only part of the problem.”

Holmes was by now quite exasperated and lost no time in telling our distinguished visitor just that. “Lord Darling, I am quite exasperated, I do not see how I can help you with this particular problem.”

“Bear with me,” the statesman replied. “We had assumed that the banks had lost money through the mis-management of their directors and by awarding themselves huge bonuses, but when the books were examined by none other than your brother, Mycroft, we found this was not the case; the money had in fact been stolen fiendishly and cleverly. The audit was only completed yesterday evening and it was at your brother’s insistence that I have come round to see you this morning and ask your help.”

“I see, pray tell me, what sum of money is involved?”

“Mr. Holmes, it is in the region of £30,000,000,000,” he answered with a grave look on his face.

Even Holmes looked taken aback at the mention of such a vast sum. I found it very hard to believe how this possibly could have happened.

“Do you have any ideas yourself who could be at the heart of this enormous crime?” Holmes asked. “I do have one or two ideas myself in that direction of course.”

“All I can tell you, Mr. Holmes is that the name ‘Lymelight’ has cropped up once or twice, a pseudonym no doubt.”

“I am glad to see that we are in agreement, hardly had you finished giving us the details of the crime when the name ‘Lymelight’ came into my head.”

“Who is this ‘Lymelight’, Holmes?” I asked.

“A shadowy figure, Watson. Slippery as an eel, but with undeniable charm, a rogue with a twinkle in his eyes,” Holmes replied. “He lives in relative obscurity on the coast, from where he makes his plans and spins his webs of intrigue.”

“So you can help us, Mr. Holmes?” pleaded our crushed Chancellor.

“I’m afraid I cannot help you. The fact is I know how badly this government has run the country’s finances and I think there are certain crimes which the law cannot touch and which therefore, to some extent, justify the kind of action that ‘Lymelight’ has taken. No, it’s no use arguing. I have made my mind up. My sympathies are with the criminal rather than the government and I will not handle this case.”

Lord Darling left, broken, by Holmes’s refusal to handle his problem.

“Holmes, if this fellow ‘Lymelight’ has stolen such a colossal amount of money, what do you think he intends to do with it?”

A faint gleam came into Holmes’s eyes, “Watson, my dear fellow, could you reach down the Bradshaw’s and look up the times of trains to Lyme Regis?!”