Sebastian Gloom

The Solomon Bottle

     It took Benson a moment or two to understand. “He had a Solomon bottle, and this was what was stolen,” he said.

     “Yes,” confirmed Edward Pick. “I am relieved that you know of such things, it saves a great deal of time-consuming explanation.”

     “We encountered such an object a few years back,” explained Gloom. “It comes as a considerable surprise to learn that Philip Cranston had one, though. I cannot imagine why he would have feared the judgement of God. The man was the closest thing to a saint now living in the world. He used almost all the profits from his business enterprises for charitable purposes and he was a champion of the fight against injustice. No tyrant or warlord was safe from him, not even those supported by our own government. I had the great honour and privilege to be with him when he overthrew the Opium Lords of Afghanistan, an act that earned him the eternal enmity of Lord Grenfell himself.” He turned to Edward Pick. “Have you received a ransom demand?”

     “Not yet. A kidnapping for money was our first thought. Pay us or we break the bottle and send Philip Cranston’s soul to judgement. So far, though, we have heard nothing from the culprits.”

     “When did the kidnapping take place?” asked Benson.

     “Around midnight, last night. Long enough for a ransom demand to come, if one were coming.”

     “Not necessarily,” said Gloom, though. “We have dealt with two kidnappings in the past, and in both cases the culprits waited for over a day before making their demands. They wanted the parents to reach a state of high distress so that they would give in to their demands immediately. I admit that that is less likely to be the case here, where the victim died several years ago, but we should not discount the possibility. The ransom demand may still come.”

     “Have you involved the police?” asked Benson.

     “Only to investigate the break in and the murder of the manservant. We made no mention of the bottle. We told the police that the culprits fled without taking anything. The church has a heavy influence over the police, and they consider the use of Solomon Bottles to be sin of the highest order, as I expect you know. The police would very likely break the bottle themselves if they came into possession of it, or hand it over to the church authorities.”

     “Was anything else taken?” asked Benson. “Perhaps it was a simple burglary and the theft of the bottle was purely incidental.”

     Edward Pick shook his head. “No. They ignored several items of considerable worth and went straight for the bottle. There is no doubt that that was the sole purpose of their visit.”

     “There are other possible motives we should consider,” murmured Sebastian Gloom, steepling his long, spindly fingers and tapping his lips. “How much do you know of his business dealings?” He asked at last.

     “Quite a lot, but not as much as the auditors who went through his affairs with a fine tooth comb upon his death, as part of the execution of his will. They reportedly found nothing to contradict his reputation for honesty and integrity.”

     “I am wondering whether someone wishes to extract information from him. He may be dead, but during the course of my career I have encountered a couple of genuine clairvoyants who could talk to the dead. I have no idea whether even they could communicate with a soul held within a Solomon bottle, though.”

     “There are tales of voices coming from Solomon bottles,” said Benson hesitantly.

     “Demons, yes. Remember that King Solomon created the first bottles to hold demons that he extracted from victims of possession. This is how the stories first came about of genies granting wishes to those who released them. Whether mere human souls can be communicated with, however...” His voice trailed off and a thoughtful expression came across his face.