Treachery in Torquay

by Lawler, W. P. ;

  Saturday, December 16th, 1905

  Additional assignment to investigate local Druid sect near the vicinity of Ipplepen. We took a slow ride out to locate the community and noticed that the encampment had the look of a military fortress. The entire area was being patrolled by several individuals who were keeping a sharp look-out around the perimeter. Mr. Roberts and I decided to continue driving past the camp, satisfied that we would make plans to return at a later date.

  Sunday, December 17th, 1905

  We began a surveillance operation on the movements of a certain James Cary, Torquay. As per request we were to report on any/all of Mr. Cary’s daily habits, chores, work, travels, social interactions, etc. Mr. Roberts and I spent most of the afternoon keeping watch over the Torre Abbey grounds and found nothing unusual to report.

  Monday, December 18th, 1905

  9:45 AM - Enter Torre Abbey grounds wearing disguises.

  Mr. Roberts and I wore costumes which would allow us to blend in with the inhabitants of the area. I chose a rather matronly black shawl and grayish wig underneath a fine tweed bonnet. Mr. Roberts, much to his very great annoyance, was persuaded to ride in a child’s carriage, covered by a plaid blanket. (While somewhat agitated by the arrangement, he had to agree that in those clothes, we would never have been seen as any sort of egregious threat to those who may have been watching over the property.)

  10:15 AM - We continued our exploration of Torre Abbey

  10:30 AM - Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson arrive and are escorted by Mr. Cary into the main house.

  11:00 AM - Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson exited the building.

  We observed them proceed to their carriage and leave the premises. At this point, our investigative team continued to examine the Abbey grounds, paying particular attention to the edifice known as the Spanish Barn.

  11:15 AM - Mr. Cary and another individual leave his home. Both of them are wearing dark winter woolen coats. They proceeded to the stable area where a landau and a fine Clydesdale team was waiting. At that point, Mr. Cary and his companion climbed into the carriage and were quickly whisked away, heading out toward King’s Road. Bobo and I quickly removed our disguises and, after securing our baby tram in some dense bushes, dashed to our own carriage and began to follow Cary and the other person.

  11:40 AM - After a short ride, Cary and companion exit carriage. The carriage then continued on its way.

  The Cary party entered a small tavern called the Witch and Cauldron. Bobo remained outside while I carefully made my way into the dark establishment, ending up at an old mahogany bar. I quickly determined that Cary was nowhere to be seen. I asked the barman if he had seen two gentlemen come into his tavern. The barman grunted, shook his head and pointed to another door at the far end of the room. I placed a sovereign on the bar, thanked him, and exited through the doorway into an alley. At that time, everything went black...

  12:00 Noon - Awakened by my friend, Bobo in the alley.

  I was still a bit woozy, the result of some kind of blunt instrument having left a small bruise on the back of my skull, but a deeper wound in my self-pride. (We both knew that we had been fooled, and Cary and his companion had gotten away.) I placed a kerchief over my aching noggin, and Bobo and I stepped back into the tavern. The bartender seemed quite concerned when I described what had transpired in the alleyway. I tried to get some additional information out of him, but he calmly replied, “Sir, what I told you a few moments ago, was the truth. Those gents entered my building, looked around and left through the same door that you did. I had never seen either one of them before, and they had scarves wrapped up around their faces as well!” He seemed to be telling the truth, so we took our leave, handing him a copy of our business card with our room number at Biddle’s, in case he needed to contact us or had any additional information.

  12:15 PM - We return to Biddle’s Rooming House.

  We paused briefly for lunch after treating the wound. We reviewed what had transpired and began to plan our next course of action.

  2:00 PM - Bobo and I return to Torre Abbey.

  We retrieved our hidden baby tram, and after stowing it in our carriage, drove to the main entrance of the estate where we were greeted by the family butler, a Mister Malcolm Randolph. Pretending to be chimney sweeps, we asked to see the owner of the building to offer our services. Before the manservant could reply, we politely described the importance of keeping chimneys clear of any debris, adding that we were willing to do the job at half the cost. The butler offered his regrets, but informed us that Mr. Cary was not at home. He further informed us that we need not bother coming back as the Abbey chimneys had only recently been serviced. We thanked him for his time and, dragging our sweep equipment, took our leave.

  2:10 PM - Mr. Roberts and I leave the Cary premises.

  We drove toward the cliffs along Torbay Road. After securing our team on a rail outside of the Beresford Inn, Bobo and I entered the establishment and ordered some refreshments. Some of the locals were engaged in a game of darts, discussing the terrible murders that had plagued the community over the past several months. Polite introductions were issued and, quite to our astonishment, one gentleman actually tried to hire us to clean his chimney! Smiling, we informed him that we would get back to him when next we became available.

  4:30 PM - Torre Abbey, again for more reconnaissance

  After a most tedious, yet somewhat enjoyable afternoon, Bobo and I decided to return to the Torre Abbey grounds. With dusk now aiding our efforts, we had hoped to catch Mr. Cary when, and if, he returned to his home. Good fortune was with us, for shortly after our arrival, having found an excellent vantage point, we observed a carriage enter the grounds. It was Mr. Cary. He quickly looked around the property then climbed the stairs and entered the house. Mr. Roberts and I decided to spend some time in our hiding place, in the event Cary might receive some additional company, but by 9:00, we were spent. The house lights were dimmed and we decided to head back to our lodgings.

  Tuesday, December 19th, 1905

  7:30 AM - Breakfast at Biddle’s (Scones with fresh orange marmalade)

  8:00 AM - Decided to take horses back to Torre Abbey.

  Back to our secure hillock on the southwestern side of the grounds, well-protected by some dense gorse. Yesterday, we found that this location allowed us to view the entire open landscape and pathways, as well as providing us excellent views of the Spanish Barn and the Abbey homestead proper.

  8:15 AM - Luck was with us, for no sooner had we prepared for our reconnaissance, a familiar carriage drove up to the main entrance of the estate. It looked to be the same one that had taken Cary to the Witch and Cauldron. The carriage door opened, and a tall figure stepped out and headed immediately into the Cary home. A short time later, Cary and this individual left the house, boarded the vehicle and, once again, turned up King’s Road. Bobo and I scarcely had time to get to our horses, but we soon found that carriage on the same route as the previous day. Not surprisingly, the carriage stopped at the same tavern, and the two gentlemen entered the building, just as they had the day before. We marked the time at 8:40 AM.

  Once the carriage had departed, Bobo and I decided to try a different approach. He followed the two men through the main tavern door while I headed for the back alley. We were both armed and ready for what might manifest itself. A short time later, Bobo exited through the alley door. I anxiously inquired as to his findings. Bobo informed me that he found the two men sitting at a table. He ordered a cup of tea and sat nearby, trying to hear them talking. When he sneaked a gaze in their direction, he was very surprised to see two elderly gentlemen approach the table and join the other two men. Bobo next informed me, that the four men ordered a bottle of rum and began playing a game of whist!

  It became clear to Bobo and me that when the carriage had stopped, two men had indeed entered the tavern, but they were not our me
n. The gentlemen we were tracking must have remained inside the coach. We had assumed that there had been only two people aboard, but it became painfully obvious that we had been fooled, yet again!

  We decided to approach the two men Bobo had followed and asked if they would be agreeable to answer a few questions for us. Surprisingly, they agreed, and all four of us moved to another table. After more rum was poured, they were pleased to inform us that they were frequent visitors to the Witch and Cauldron, and had been paid to ride the carriage to this establishment, no questions asked. Both smiled when we inquired if they recognized either of the two gentlemen that had joined them at Torre Abbey.

  One of the men, a tall dark-eyed fellow, responded, “What makes you think we’re going to tell you two strangers anything about those gents? Don’t you remember that we told you we were paid, no questions asked?”

  His partner broke in, laughing, “Yes, my friend and I have nothing more to say about our traveling companions. You see, we had never seen them before, and I doubt if we’ll ever see them again.”

  Bobo and I quickly took our leave, knowing full well that we had been duped.

  9:00 AM - We rode our steeds back to the livery stable and returned to our lodgings to prepare for our next course of action. After re-assessing our surveillance skills, Bobo and I once again traveled out to the Druid encampment.

  10:00 AM - Bobo and I proceeded through Dartmoor in the hope of acquiring some information about the group led by the man known as Terra. The encampment was located near Ipplepen, a small village approximately fourteen kilometers from Torquay. Upon arriving, we were greeted by two men wearing animal skins and carrying long, wooden branches. Apparently, they were the men we had spotted the other day. They had been assigned as watchmen to prevent the secretive clan from being freely observed by the curious or others who might be less understanding of their ways.

  When we informed these sentries of our interest in their religion we were straightaway taken to their leader. At first glance, he seemed a most imposing figure: tall, solidly built, and well-spoken. He was happy to talk with us, sharing that he had been properly schooled outside of London. He talked of studies at Oxford for several sessions, but quickly tired of the mundane, day-to-day existence that he saw all about him. When he first heard of the Druid cult, he admitted to have been somewhat amused by their simple way of life. He also offered that, while skeptical at first, he decided to pursue it more deeply.

  “A short time later,” he divulged, “I was completely captivated by their view of life and the importance of taking care of our earth mother.”

  We spoke of our interest in possibly committing ourselves to this life. He smiled, and politely told us, that his encampment welcomed all who were truly called to the faith. However, he warned that the Druids, while certainly different from most English inhabitants, would never allow those who were only curious to be accepted by their community. Bobo and I could sense real menace in that remark, but tried to reassure him that we only wanted to see for ourselves if the Druid way could be our way. That seemed to ease the tension of the moment.

  Terra invited us to spend the day with his followers. We did just that. Bobo and I explored the village for the next several hours. We made note of the friendliness of the clan members as they performed their community tasks, for that is what they did. Some tended the fields. Some took care of the sheep. Others took care of the stables and horses and other livestock. All seemed to be most content as they toiled. We tried not to seem too conspicuous as we continued our research, but it was very difficult to move freely among them and pretend that we didn’t know we were being watched. For that, in fact, was the truth. Eyes were on our every move.

  When we had seen enough, we revisited Terra and thanked him for allowing us to experience what Druidism was all about. He assured us that we had witnessed most of what constituted the group lifestyle. He ended our meeting with what seemed to have been a most heart-felt invitation to return tomorrow to witness or even help them to prepare for the celebration of the Solstice Ritual, scheduled for 12:03 PM on Friday, December 22nd.

  4:00 PM - Returned to Torquay and prepared our findings for Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson... Duly reported and recorded by Wiggins-Roberts Agency.

  After reading the report, I removed my glasses and peered up at Holmes, who was now standing directly above me.

  “Well?” he questioned, blowing pipe smoke my way.

  “Would you excuse me?” I implored, rising from my comfortable chair, “Holmes, you’re fairly smothering me. Give me some room, please!”

  His mood quickly moderated, and he moved aside, issuing, “Dear fellow, I didn’t mean to crowd you, I’m just curious as to what you make of this report.”

  As I quickly made my way to a window overlooking the windblown coast, he repeated his request, “Watson, I am truly interested in your opinion. What do you make of it all?”

  I was going to issue my opinion, but I held back, still annoyed that he hadn’t informed me that Wiggins had become a private investigator. I was furious that he had hired the Wiggins-Roberts firm without confiding in me. It just didn’t sit well and I simply had to disclose my disappointment.

  “Holmes,” I opened, “before I give you my thoughts on the Wiggins-Roberts report, I would like you to know that I am still fuming that you hadn’t take me into your confidence when you hired them.”

  “Watson, Watson,” he remarked, restating his excuse, “haven’t I only recently admitted that it was mere oversight?”

  “That was what you offered, yes,” I angrily responded.

  “Well, then, shouldn’t that be enough for you?” my friend suggested earnestly. “What do I need to say to you to get you back on task?”

  I took a deep breath, pondering what I might say next.

  Looking at the volume of smoke that was now fairly exploding from his pipe, I stated simply, “Holmes, perhaps it is my ego or something symptomatic of my aging mental acuity, but I need to feel that I’m a valuable part of our enterprise. I deserve more respect and consideration from you. If you wish me to be at my best, and truly want me to help, I should expect no surprises coming from you.”

  Holmes stood stock-still as he stared at me. Apparently, my comments had struck him to the core, for he appeared dumfounded. Initially, he said nothing. Instead, he walked over to a waste basket and gingerly tapped out the ash residue from his pipe.

  Slowly, he turned back to me and, remarked, “Watson, you are correct. It shall not happen again.”

  “Now, if you’re finally satisfied, would you be so kind as to give me your appraisal of the report, please?” he dramatically offered.

  “First of all,” I began, “I now understand why that baby seemed so ugly to me. Bob-O makes a most homely child.”

  Smiling, Holmes returned, “Yes, Watson. It’s Bobo.”

  “Bobo, Bob-O, what the devil do I care,” I blared out, expressing some annoyance at being corrected.

  Holmes suddenly burst out laughing, waving me onward, “Please continue...”

  For the next several minutes, I offered my heart-felt appraisal of the Wiggins-Roberts report, paying particular attention to the simple means by which they had been fooled by Cary and his accomplice. I continued by questioning their visit to the Druid site, believing that we had planned to give that encampment a visit. I finished my brief analysis with several questions.

  “Tell me, Holmes,” I ventured, “what is the significance of the Winter Solstice ritual? Why did you have Cary followed? Don’t you trust his story?”

  “Excellent questions, my dear fellow,” he offered. “I, too, can’t believe how easily Wiggins and Bobo were fooled as they tried to follow Cary.”

  “As to why I had him followed,” Holmes responded, “my dear fellow, just because a man claims to have been threatened, does not mean that he is necessarily te
lling the truth. There is more, much more, to discover about Mr. James Cary, but we will leave that for tomorrow’s visit.”

  I was somewhat comforted by the manner in which Holmes had responded to my distress. It seemed to me that I had made my point, at last. He had confided in me, which was only right, for if I do say so myself, he could never find another companion who would understand and appreciate his sometimes bizarre ways.

  Suddenly, I remembered that Holmes and I had not yet discussed the butler’s answers.

  “Holmes,” I suggested, “you’ve not spoken about Randolph’s answers to your questions. Would you care to share them with me?”

  The look on my friend’s face was comical. Clearly, he did not want to discuss the butler’s responses, but I had made my point earlier that evening. I would longer tolerate being left in the dark.

  Reluctantly, he took the note from his pocket.

  “Watson,” he politely said, handing it to me, “you may read them yourself. Perhaps you will find more in his answers than I could.”

  I eagerly unfolded the paper and carefully began to read them aloud, hoping this could pique my friend’s curiosity.

  I began:

  “Question #1: When and where did you first meet Mr. Cary?

  I first met Mr. Cary while I was working at another household. My former employer was moving to London and was kind enough to recommend me to Mr. Cary, who, as it happened, was in need of household staff.

  Question #2: How long have you been employed by Mr. James Cary.

  I have been privileged to work for the Cary family since 1882.

  Question #3: Has Mr. Cary received any visitors or strangers to the house in the last several months?

  Certainly. He is no hermit! Many of his fellow councilmen have come to Torre Abbey to meet with Mr. Cary. Of course, family relatives frequently come to visit. As to strangers, I confess that there have been some new faces who have met with Mr. Cary. On these occasions, I was asked to remain in my own quarters. As you can imagine, this did seem strange, but I never questioned Mr. Cary on this point. I’m sure he had his reasons.