Sherlock Holmes and the Father of Lies

by C J Lutton

  Holmes rose from his chair and paced the room before continuing. “As fate would have it, and without Mycroft's knowledge, I accidentally became involved in this incredible case. Having long ago relinquished my predisposed prejudices, I was contacted by Langston here through one of the classifieds.”

  I turned to study our visitor more closely.

  ”Having nothing pressing at the time, I decided to correspond with him. Arrangements were made to meet in Perthshire, Scotland. Before going into this any further, perhaps it would be wise for Langston to speak for himself.”

  Holmes resumed occupancy of his favorite chair and nodded in Langston's direction.

  ”Thank you, Mr. Holmes.” said Langston, with a heavy Scots burr. He was a short man but broad in the chest and shoulders. His ginger hair was tinged with a touch of gray. ”It's just as Mr. Holmes said. I put an advertisement seekin' his assistance in the London papers. It was because of Drummond's persistence that I finally gave in. Drummond had dealings with Mr. Holmes before and told me to give it a go. After Mr. Holmes contacted me, I couldn't wait for his arrival.

  ”Mr. Holmes came just as he said he would and we went aboot solving the death of Sean MacCarin and the others. There was many a killings that began to happen and the townsfolk were up in arms. Not a soul did anyone trust. It turned brother against brother and neighbor against neighbor. As luck would have it, I was sittin' on the overlook on the other side of the glen watchin' Sean run his dogs. We’d been neighbors for just a short while and had nothin' else in common, him being just a duniewassal.”

  Of course, I knew that Langston was saying that Sean MacCarin was a gentleman, a chief of his clan, but I wasn’t sure why Langston had bothered to make this point. However, as he continued, his purpose became more clear.

  “But when we met, Sean and I was always polite to each other and spoke of the weather, the town and all. You know, makin' small talk, as neighbors do. Sean would oft give his dogs their lead and I watched as they made directly to the old dun. I never much cared for the ruins, thanks to many a mysterious thing happenin’ there. But lately, the dogs ran for the ruins every time. At first, Sean would call 'em back, and they'd come runnin' back with their tails a’tween their legs. But as time wore on, his dogs got harder to control. They'd go right for those ruins, and Sean would call and call until they finally come out. Sean himself would never go near the ruins. ‘I don't like ’em,’ he told me. ‘There's strange happenin's in there.’”

  I could imagine how hard this must have been for an educated man to admit, and yet Langston was telling us that Sean MacCarin did confess his fears. That alone was extraordinary. I nodded at the mental image of the ruins, thinking of the many old fortified settlements I’ve seen in Scotland and Ireland. The duns were stone—built in the late Iron Age to the early Middle Ages. Most have fallen into disrepair, as Langston was describing.

  Langston continued, ”Now, his dogs have always been frisky and playful. A mite too much so, for my likin', but he loved ’em. Always talkin' about them dogs bein' loyal and devoted to him. His eyes would light up when'ere I inquired as to their whereabouts. He actually thought I liked the filthy beasts. About that same time, it were that some of my workin' livestock had been turnin' up dead with their throats horribly mauled. I was sure those dogs of Sean’s had somethin' to do with it.

  ”Like I was sayin', everything looked normal that day,” Langston went on. “The dogs was runnin' first from one side, then the other of the hillside. They're just playin', I thought. But the closer they got to them ruins, the more they was actin' cagey. This time, they didn't let Sean stay at the bottom of the hill. It was if they were herding him and forcin' him up there. They started growlin' and snappin' at Sean. I could hear him yellin’! Now, like I said, Sean loved them dogs, and he would never raise a hand to them. So's when I saw him tryin' to hit the beasts with his walking stick, I knew somethin' was terrible wrong! That poor man! He never had a chance! They tore him apart like he was a stuffed doll. They grabbed him, pulled him down to the ground, and dragged him into the ruins! He was screamin’ the whole time, until the last. A while passed afore those dogs came out. I could see blood all over their snouts. It was dripping from their jowls. I don't mind tellin' ye, I was mighty scared, especially because of the way they was actin’. They began runnin' in circles, goin', ’round and ’round, almost like they was celebrating. And then – and I swear to this, Mr. Holmes – they stopped dead in their tracks and sat down. All at the very same time. They just sat there and watched me. Like they was challenging me to do something about it! I tell you I was shakin’.They didn't move. They just sat cold as stone and every bit as still, and they stared and stared at me. I was the most scared I’ve been in all my life. I ran as fast as I could and never looked back. The devil was in them dogs, and I for one, have seen the devil at work.”

  Langston’s three listeners sat enthralled by his story and an uneasy quiet fell over the room. As Langston was telling his tale, Holmes occasionally would check on Harker and quietly return to his chair. Nervously, we looked about the rooms with growing suspicion.

  ”Though Langston and Drummond are familiar with the facts, Watson, I feel it necessary to bring you into the circle,” Holmes said, startling everyone. ”It was shortly after the incident that I arrived in Dumfries. I was met there by both Langston and Drummond. Unaware as I was of the singular nature of this case, I had at the time thought Sean MacCarin was a gentleman unacquainted with the sort of wolf pack impulses that can infest an uncontrolled group of dogs. My conjecture was greatly altered when I was confronted with the new and startling facts that Langston had just recounted. Having arrived at Perthshire late, I elected to stay the night at the local inn. It was my good fortune that I happened upon the local postman. If ever there were a more perfect recipient of rumours, gossip, innuendo, and yes, sometimes even factual information, God must have ordained it to be a postman.”

  ”Drummond? You'll be surprised to hear the postman is quite aware of the delicate matter, regarding your dismissal and your theologically—themed speaking engagements. If you prefer, I shall look into it further.”

  Drummond's face darkened, while Holmes watched the man with evident curiosity.

  Drummond shifted his weight in his chair. A wordless exchange passed between him and Holmes. Drummond knotted his fists into tight balls and said, ”There's no callin' for you to put your nose into my affairs, Mr. Holmes. I'll take care of that puny little postman when I return home. See if I don’t.”

  Holmes was about to reply to Drummond's outburst when Harker began to stir once more. We rose from our chairs and stood in a silent circle over Harker, watching the man.

  Fishing for something out of his pocket, Holmes leaned forward and pressed a silver object against Harker's neck. Immediately the man roused from his stupor and thrashed about. Holmes applied more pressure and held the item firm against the two puncture wounds on Harker’s neck. I leaned closer to see what my friend was holding. It was a silver cross. After a few tumultuous seconds, Holmes finally removed it from Harker’s skin. A clearly defined impression of the cross had been branded into my patient’s neck. The pungent odor of burnt flesh filled our nostrils.

  Holmes delved his hand deep into the pocket of his dressing gown and removed a small vial of clear liquid. Lifting out the stopper, he poured it on Harker's neck.

  To my surprise, Drummond bellowed and leapt out of the way. He moved back just as Harker's screaming and contorted face spewed a venomous stream of feculent bile.

  ”Hold him down! Don't let go!” shouted Holmes, just as Harker, with devastatingly brutal strength, broke free from his bindings.

  Holmes and I pounced on the man as he was beginning to rise from the divan. It was all that we could do to keep him in place, as his body rocked violently. His mouth grew in size and shape. It spread across his entire face as he snarled at us like a wild animal. Over the sounds of breaking bones and tearing flesh, his nose became elongated. His te
eth grew and filled the obvious canine features that were transforming in front of our terrified eyes. The hideous snarling mouth of a man turned into a gaping black maw of destruction that ripped the air.

  What were once ordinary human fingernails slowly blackened and grew downward. They curled over the fingertips and became razor sharp. Scratching and digging his way deep into our flesh, we struggled to gain the upper hand and subdue the creature. For that is what we were facing, a creature. All outward signs of humanity had fled Harker’s corporal form. So did his self—control. He was nothing more and nothing less than a mad animal. His slashing claws often found their mark as we reeled back and screamed in pain. His quickness and ferocity overwhelmed us. A life—and—death battle seemed to rage for hours, although in truth it could not possibly have gone on that long. The monster's constant onslaught brought us to the precipice of exhaustion. Desperately gasping for air, our clothes were soaked through with perspiration, but the creature's flesh stayed cold to the touch. His blood—red eyes shimmered, whilst the veins on his temple collapsed into thin blue lines of pulsing madness.

  The torn remnants of Harker's clothes laid bare his chest. His skin turned so translucent that I saw the shadow of his heart beating. His body suddenly arched at an impossible angle, and then he collapsed back onto the sofa.

  The silence and subsequent stillness was both instantaneous and deafening.

  I glanced about the rooms and studied the effect this horror had on us all. Langston was badly bruised, as he stood over the now quiet figure of Harker. The Scot held a walking stick over his head, ready to strike at whatever creature might next appear. Drummond, on the other hand, appeared unharmed, but badly shaken. And somehow during the melee, I had drawn my weapon. Fighting off exhaustion, I too stood waiting for our next confrontation.

  When my eyes fell upon Holmes, I recoiled in horror. It was obvious that he'd taken the most injurious of the blows and the brunt of the assault. I reached down to help him to his feet. Rising slowly, Holmes placed his hands on his hips and arched his back, trying to coax his spine back into position. Rattled and unnerved, I stood there. I could not help but gauge Drummond and Langston not as a protectors but as possible enemies. After all, Harker had turned on us. Who might be next?

  Shaking away that horrible thought, I helped Holmes to his chair. ”Thank you, Watson,” he said. ”It would seem that I misjudged the effects of the cross and the holy water.”

  The four of us struggled to regain our composure.

  At last, Holmes rose to his feet and went to Harker's side. Crouching over the still figure, he examined the man's neck. Once satisfied, he nodded. He then lifted Harker's hands and studied them closely. Again, the examination brought a nearly imperceptible nod of approval. Sitting on the edge of the sofa, he cautiously opened Harker's mouth and whistled in surprise.

  Holmes called to me, ”Watson, be so kind as to hurry and fetch my paraffin. It's over there by the chemicals.”

  Moving the numerous tubes and beakers aside, I found what Holmes had requested and handed the misshapen lump to him. He prised off a piece and rolled it between the palms of his hands. Manipulating the paraffin into a flat elongated shape, he quickly bent the waxy glob into the form of a crescent.

  ”Come here, Watson, and hold open his mouth.”

  ”But, Holmes!”

  ”Come, it's all right. He's harmless now. As we speak, he's returning back to normal. Hurry, before it's too late!”

  It was with some trepidation that I acquiesced to my friend's prodding, but I did as he requested and tilted Harker's head back. Holmes ruthlessly pried open the man’s jaw and exposed the elongated canines.

  ”We must be quick,” said Holmes. ”They're already forming back to their regular size.”

  He placed the paraffin flat against the slowly shrinking teeth and forced the malleable wax to imprint Harker's bite. After a minute or so, Holmes removed the mold from Harker's mouth. The great detective spent a few moments diligently studying his work before placing it on the table. We stood with our eyes transfixed on the replica of a vampire's tools of destruction. Holmes opened Harker's mouth again, this time to reveal its normal appearance.

  ”Amazing!” exclaimed Holmes.

  ”Appalling!” said I in return.

  ”It would seem,” Holmes offered, ”that the worst is over. Our friend Harker here should be coming around shortly. We need not be afraid. Not of him, that is.” Shaking his head, Holmes continued, ”Extraordinary. One could deduce from this fantastic episode that the Lamarckian Theory is no longer just theory, but is in fact law!”

  ”And just what is the Lamarckian Theory?” I asked.

  ”Why, Watson,” mused Holmes, staring at Harker, ”it's simply the crux of our whole being. Especially as it applies to this particular case. As soon as he awakens, we're sure to learn more.”

  As if on cue, Harker awoke.

  ”Speak of the dev—” I swallowed back the rest of the word.

  ”Ah, Harker,” Holmes smiled, turning his narrowed eyes away from me, ”welcome back to the land of the living.” In a threatening tone, he asked, ”Feeling better, are we?”

  Harker sat up confused. ”W—w—why, yes, thank…”

  Holmes pounced on Harker before another word could be spoken, catching us all unaware by his ferocity. Straddling Harker’s chest, Holmes shouted at him, ”If you value your life, you’d best tell me the exact location of my brother! Now!”

  I tried to intercede on Harker's behalf, but Drummond stepped forward, impeding my way.

  ”Stay out of it, Doctor,” Drummond said. ”Mr. Holmes knows what he's doin'.”

  ”Tell me what I want to know!” screamed Holmes. ”Or I'll...” And he paused, reaching under the sofa. Before my startled eyes, Holmes withdrew a wooden mallet and stake. He pressed the point of the stake against Harker’s chest and raised the mallet menacingly. Harker suddenly went limp and serene. He began to speak in an unknown voice, ”Mycroft is not of this land. He now resides with my master in America.”

  ”Poppycock!” I protested. ”He was seen in the Diogenes Club just yesterday. He...”

  The voice interrupted me, ”That's right, Doctor. Believe what you will. My master can accomplish…” and he paused.

  Curiously, he glanced at Drummond and smiled.

  ”Where in America?” demanded Holmes.

  Without removing the point of the stake away from the man's chest, Holmes lowered his head to Harker's lips. Holmes listened to the whispered reply. As he absorbed the words, Holmes’ eyes widened and then he nodded. Harker silently slipped into unconsciousness.

  ”What did he say, Holmes?” I asked.

  ”There's much to do,” Holmes responded, ignoring my query. ”The lair of the vampire beckons.”

  ”Confound it, Holmes! What did Harker tell you? Where are we going?”

  Sherlock Holmes blinked at my words. ”I've known you these many years, Watson, and not once did you ever give an inch to the villains we came across. But in good conscience, I cannot expect you to follow me. There are many things that will be required of us during the chase. In many instances, these actions are sure to go against your moral character and beliefs. I'm sorry, Watson, but I can't risk you hesitating, even for an instant. The cause of your death may be the direct consequence of your idealism and faith. I shall not ask you to come with us to America.”

  ”Be that as it may,” said I. ”But you'll not deprive me of seeing this through to the end. If I'm not allowed to accompany you, then I will surely go on my own. It will be on your head, if I fall prey to a vampire and do not know what to do.”

  ”Good old Watson!” said Holmes, clapping me on the back. ”Your loyalty and courage never cease to astound me. It is precisely what I had hoped you would say, but sadly I lacked the courage to ask you. Of course, you'll come. We leave for America in two days.”

  I quickly realized that he hadn't answered my question.

  ”Harker will be fine,” said Ho
lmes. ”We'll let him rest for now.”

  My friend walked across the room and peered through the drapes. Cautiously, he opened the window and whistled shrilly before shutting the window again. With a smile on his face, he walked to the desk and began to scribble furiously on different sheets of paper. Within minutes, the familiar thunderous sounds of the Baker Street Irregulars came up the stairs.

  ”Come in, Wiggins!” called Holmes, before a knock could be heard. He removed the chair from the door and undid the lock. The door opened and a young man appeared. It was Wiggins! Not how I last remembered seeing him, all scruffy and bedraggled. Now I stared at a young man of substance and considerable charm and poise. He looked very much the dandy.

  ”You whistled, Mr. Holmes?”

  ”Indeed I did, Thaddeus.”

  Wiggins beamed at hearing his given name. Holmes smiled broadly, studying the young man before him. Wiggins' gaze never faltered and he looked directly into his mentor's eyes. Holmes continued, ”I have a task for you which only your good organization can accomplish.”

  ”Consider it done, Mr. Holmes,” said Thaddeus, confidently.

  ”First, send one of your men to the address on this note. He's to see Dr. Bell and is to wait for a reply. Second, I want these telegrams sent. Do not send them all from the same telegraph office. Use your discretion. Third, and most important, I want you personally to find a safe house for me and my friends here. We'll need to be securely placed by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. It must be able to accommodate our comings and goings for two days without raising any suspicions. Once you find such a place, secure the perimeter with your best people and make all of the necessary arrangements to get us there quickly and quietly. Do you understand?”