“Gentlemen, I’m afraid that I’m losing whatever skills I believed that I once had. All morning I’ve been planning to attend this ceremony,” he moaned, “and now I’m afraid that we may have missed it entirely!”
“Don’t worry, Holmes,” I spoke in an effort to encourage him, “they may still be celebrating. From what I’ve heard, they carry on for hours!”
“I’ve heard the same thing, Doctor Watson,” Wiggins agreed.
“Yes,” Bobo added with a smile on his countenance, “I’m quite anxious to see what they’ll be doing.
Sure enough, as we pulled our conveyance up to the broad expanse, we could see the revelers dancing all about the clifftop, singing and waving banners, holding sticks and bowing toward the sun. A huge fire had been lit and the tribal members, each in turn, approached the burning branches and tossed small packets of incense into the flames. Musicians playing lutes and rhythmical drums accompanied their strange singing and dancing, and clearly, much wine had been consumed by members of this Druid community.
“Well, what have we here?” Wiggins observed. “It looks like we may have made it in time, Mr. Holmes, adding, might I inquire what you expect to find here?”
Holmes jumped out of the carriage, tied the team to a nearby post and signaled us to follow him as he disappeared behind a tall thicket. Quickly, he pulled out a small telescope and began to examine the noisy gathering.
Wiggins, Roberts, and I could only watch and wait to see what Holmes would do next.
“Gentlemen,” he offered, “I think we should split our resources and move along and through these celebrants in an effort to locate their leader, Terra. He should be wearing the traditional deer antler headdress which is symbolic of the sect’s chief.”
“If you are able to locate him, try to follow, but whatever you do, don’t let him see that he is being watched,” continued the world’s foremost consulting detective. “If he sees that he is being observed we may never be able to bring him to justice.”
Bobo queried, “Mr. Holmes, with all due respect, I have to ask, what would you have us do when we’ve located this man? Should we seize him and hold him until the constables can charge him? As to that, what crimes has he, in fact, actually committed?”
In response, Holmes merely stated, “Mr. Roberts, at this point it is only a case of circumstantial evidence that could lead to his arrest. Chief Inspector Davis confided that he was going to arrest Terra at this very event, but I convinced him that he didn’t have enough evidence to prosecute the man.”
“So, to repeat Bobo’s question,” Wiggins interjected, “What should we do, besides locate the man?”
“Watson,” Holmes offered, “would you tell these gentlemen what we’re going to do next?”
At that remark, I was momentarily flabbergasted, lost for any response to my friend’s directive to me. I bowed my head and turned away for a brief moment, trying to imagine why he had put me in such a position. I could feel pressure building up within me as I searched for what I might do next. Just when I was about to embarrass myself, the answer came to me. I realized what he wanted me to say, and I happily related what next we needed to do.
“Why, gentlemen,” I replied, “it will be our place to try to catch this fellow, Terra, in the act of committing a crime. At that moment, we will have become witnesses to the law-breaking, and any arrest after that would result in successful prosecution of the perpetrator.”
I quickly looked in Holmes’s direction and found his smile to be one of complete approbation.
“Watson, old man, that is exactly what we need to do. Bravo!” he offered. “Now let’s get to it!”
Following my friend’s earlier directive, Wiggins and Roberts walked through one section of the large gathering, trying to blend in as best they could amidst the joyous crowd. After watching them weave into the mob, Holmes led me slowly over to the edge of the cliff and together we disappeared down the path through the thicket leading to the cavern below the plain of Daddyhole.
“Holmes,” I whispered as he lit the small lantern he had hidden behind one of the boulders near the opening, “shouldn’t we be searching for Terra with Bob-O and Wiggins?
“We are, Watson,” he responded. “It’s my belief that we will find them down here, gathering the Roman coins that they’ve been able to discover and preparing them for removal.”
“Do you remember when you and I visited Kents Cavern and I began to gather information?” he inquired as we made our way downward to the floor of the cave.
“Why, certainly, Holmes,” I replied. “I remember the look on poor Mr. Powe’s face as you speedily moved from one area of the digs to another, jotting down information and drawing sketches of the surrounds. Why do you ask?”
“Well,” he went on, “I never did get around to showing you what my findings indicated, and I believe they have a major bearing on our investigations.”
“You see, Watson,” he continued, raising the lantern over his sketches, “if you look closely on the side of that huge stalagmite, I’ve depicted there, preserved by a glaze of dripping limestone, you will see what appear to be scratches.”
“What do you mean scratches?” I asked as I tried to make out his drawing.
“Well, upon examining those markings more closely, I found that they were not mere imperfections but rather words, carved by a knife.” he whispered solemnly. “And, Watson, the words were written in Latin...”
“What? Latin you say?” I spoke with genuine curiosity. “Well, what did they say?”
Holmes began, “Invenietis enim thesaurus vester est. Protegentur ab unguibus quae imminent.”
I just stood there, staring at my friend, very much agitated by his response.
Holmes I slowly mouthed, “Latin? Latin? Do you seriously believe that I have complete mastery of one of the dead languages of antiquity? Pray translate, if you would be so kind.”
His expression quickly changed and he offered, “Oh, of course, my good fellow. That was rather presumptuous of me. Why, I most assuredly meant you no insult.”
“The message would translate to, ‘You will find your treasure here, protected by claws which threaten.”
By the look on my face, he knew he had to explain further.
“Watson,” he continued, “I believe that those words were instructions to locate the Roman coins left by the Druids who had been colonized by the armies of Roman emperor Vespasian or perhaps, Hadrian’s Legions!”
“Don’t you see, Watson,” he implored, “Terra and his Druid followers must have found references to a treasure of golden Roman coins that were secretly stored in the coastal caves near modern day Torquay.”
I had to admit it made perfect sense, and replied, “Ah, yes, I see. But do you believe that this treasure remains buried in the caves or do you suspect that it has already been removed?”
“That is what we have to determine, my good man,” he concluded.
We had barely finished our conversation when we began to hear footsteps coming closer and closer to our location. Thankfully, we spied another alcove and speedily sought refuge there. Once positioned, we saw reflected lights bouncing off the sides of the moist cave walls as a band of men made their way into the spacious domed cavity.
Holmes and I quietly observed the group, wondering what would happen next. I had no idea what Holmes and I would do should we be discovered, for we were greatly outnumbered. It was true that we had both brought our revolvers, but that gave me no real comfort.
Just as I was coming to terms with our perilous situation, a deep voice called from the depths of the cave, “Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, you can come out now. We saw you enter the passageway and we know that you are here.”
Holmes grabbed my arm and whispered, “They’re bluffing, Watson. Don’t make a sound.”
Time seemed to st
and still while the tall Druid leader began to walk about the perimeter of the cave. As he moved from one alcove to another, he continued to speak, “Come out, Holmes. You know that you are outnumbered. There is no way out... You are only delaying the inevitable...”
A chill ran down my spine for I knew that there was no escape for us.
Holmes broke our silence as we moved toward our adversary, issuing, “Terra, tell your men to fall back for as you can see Doctor Watson and I have our revolvers trained on your head. Let me further assure you that we are quite prepared to send you to the hereafter.”
“Ah, there you are, gentlemen,” the Druid chieftain calmly spoke. “We appear to be at an impasse, as it were.”
“I see no impasse, Terra,” stated my companion. “We will be placing you under arrest and your days of pillaging and looting will soon be over.”
Holmes’s remark, incredibly, was met by group laughter.
“Mr. Holmes,” our opponent slowly pointed to the cave passageway, “Look what we found on our travels!”
With that comment, we saw a shrouded figure being led into our midst and positioned next to the Druid leader.
“Oh, no, Watson,” my friend whispered, “I now fear the worst.”
As Holmes was finishing his confidential remark, Terra quickly removed the cloak. There, bound and gagged, shivering in the dank surroundings, was a young and terrified Aggie Miller...
Several seconds passed and Holmes and I lowered our weapons as Terra strutted around the young detective.
“Impasse Mr. Holmes? I think not!” the leader of the cult voiced.
At this point, the young girl began to shake nervously and when she saw Holmes and me being bound and gagged, she burst into tears. Before we three were led away, another figure appeared at the passage entrance. A wicked smile on her face signaled the presence of the evil Lucretia Bedlam, and she quickly made her way to her co-conspirator.
“Well, we’ve captured the meddlers, Terra,” the evil Bedlam issued, shaking her head in apparent dismay.
“Yes, Bedlam,” sneered the Druid leader. “It would seem that the great Holmes-Watson team has underestimated their opposition this time.”
“Ha! They snooped and snooped and succeeded in making our jobs most difficult, but we will have the last laugh when all is said and done,” Bedlam announced.
“What to do... What to do?” a pompous Terra pondered, placing his open palm on his pronounced chin. “You have presented us with quite the dilemma! Had you minded your own business, it may never have come to this moment.”
“Take them to the storage room,” he boomed. “We’ll tend to them after we’ve removed the Spanish doubloons and Roman booty.”
After being led through one of the side alcoves of the huge cavern, we soon found ourselves hanging by our outstretched arms, tied to a beam spanning a narrow section of the storage room. It was most painful and I cursed the villains who would think of doing such a thing to a mere child. Clearly, Aggie Miller, no matter how brave, was in great discomfort.
The small room was located behind a sturdy door which had been securely fastened from without. We still had our mouths gagged, barely able to breathe, let alone talk. I was convinced that we would soon learn our fate with these killers. After all, they apparently had no qualms about killing four councilmen!
Suddenly, Holmes opened his mouth and expelled the nuisance silencer, having long ago mastered a technique which would free him from that type of vocal confinement.
“Miss Miller, Doctor Watson,” he whispered. “Don’t worry... we’ll soon be up and out of this mess!”
Holmes’s encouraging words sounded good to me, but I couldn’t imagine how we could ever escape from this situation.
Seconds later, I heard a loud, unworldly snapping sound followed by a rather ominous stifled groan and found that my partner had somehow wrested one arm from the beam. With the agility of a Sumatran orangutan, Holmes swung his body up and atop the beam, quickly freeing his other arm. In no time at all he had freed both Aggie and me. Next, he began to tiptoe closer to the door that kept us from freedom.
“Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” a very weepy and exhausted Aggie Miller whispered to my friend. “I’ll not attempt to tell you how I got myself into this fix. Sadly, I believe it to be genetics!”
As angry as he was, I thought I observed a little smile at the corners of his mouth, but he had to chastise the young girl, “We don’t need to know how or why you’re here, young girl, at least at this moment. What we need to do is get out of here safely!”
After he had spoken, I noticed that his left arm was hanging unnaturally by his side,
“Holmes,” I whispered, “that arm appears dislocated!”
“Brilliant, Watson,” he replied hastily, and before I could reach over to him, he grabbed the injured limb and quickly snapped it back into place.
“Oh, my,” I offered nervously, shaken by what I had just witnessed, “can I do something to help?”
Of course, there was nothing left to be done without proper tools and medications.
“I’ll be fine,” he voiced, “I’ve had to do that ‘trick’ before and I’ll be fine in a few days.”
That having been said, Holmes pulled a matchstick from his vest pocket and used its light to peer out through the keyhole.
“Excellent,” he voiced as he unraveled a folded copy of one of his sketches and carefully slid it under the bottom of the cell door. “We are in luck, the key is still in the lock!
“Watson,” he offered, “If you would, please hand me that slender piece of chopped firewood. Mind the slivers, old man.”
I did as he suggested and passed the tiny shoot into his waiting palm.
Aggie, sensing what he was about to do, voiced, “Oh, I see what you’re doing. It’s simply marvelous, Mr. Holmes!”
Without bothering to reply, Holmes pushed the stick into the keyhole and listened as the key dropped outside the door. landing on the paper he had placed there.
The soft “kerplink” indicated that the key had dropped, and immediately, our means of escape was now in the hands of Sherlock Holmes.
There was no time to spend on checking the whereabouts of the cult members so the three of us simply burst through the door, unaware of the guard who had just then returned to the doorway.
The impact was powerful enough to knock the man senseless and we watched him as he collapsed to the ground. Holmes and I quickly threw the man into the cell and locked the door. Immediately afterward, we hurried along the narrow corridor and through Aggie’s shortcut into Kents Cavern before finally slowing down.
As we tried to catch our breaths, I wondered what our next step would be. I didn’t have long to wait for my thought to be answered.
“Aggie, we’re going to find Mr. Powe and have him take you home immediately,” Holmes slowly dictated his wishes to young Miss Miller.
She said nothing, but shook her head to the affirmative as we started for the workshop of the owner of Kents Cavern.
As our group left the cave interior and moved into the afternoon sunshine, Francis Powe almost keeled over as he watched us emerge from the darkness.
“What in the world? How in the world? Why? Why?” the stunned carpenter issued.
“Mr. Powe, we haven’t enough time to explain right now, but we would appreciate it if you could be kind enough to accompany Miss Miller back home as soon as possible,” Holmes suggested to the still flustered Powe.
“Miss Miller,” Holmes continued, “I would ask that you refrain from disclosing any information to Mr. Powe and your mother at this time. Do you understand? Can you keep your promise this time?”
Mr. Powe seemed most anxious when he heard these demands from my partner, but when Holmes promised to divulge all of the facts the following morning, he indicated hi
s willingness to abide by my partner’s unusual request.
As soon as the two of them had disappeared on their way to Ashfield, Holmes warned, “Watson, we must hurry to Torre Abbey, post haste! Now that they know that we’ve been able to elude them, they’ll be heading back to complete their pact with James Cary. And you know what that will mean... “
On our way back to the Cary residence, I wondered what role, if any, Mr. Randolph had in this matter, asking, “Holmes, do you suppose that Malcolm Randolph had any knowledge of this elaborately orchestrated robbery?”
“Of course he did,” Holmes answered.
Holmes then turned to the butler’s role in this mystery.
“When Cary received that threatening letter, he confided in Randolph, requesting that the butler not tell any of the other members of the household staff. It would be their secret, Cary not wishing to alarm his family and their faithful servants. He came up with a plan to move his family away from Torre Abbey until the threat had been removed. His next step was to contact us, having become aware of the several successes you were kind enough to document. Many of which, he must have noticed, had been resolved with the utmost discretion.
Shortly after, Cary informed the staff that the family would be visiting relatives for several weeks and that he would be placing them on hiatus until their return. At that point in time, Malcolm Randolph may have been totally unaware of Bedlam’s plans. It would seem that at the beginning of her employment at Torre Abbey, the woman had been performing her duties adequately. While not overly friendly, she had been following the butler’s directives to the letter. Still, he must have sensed that something was not quite right, and as we both now know his suspicions proved to be correct.
Randolph noticed that Bedlam always seemed to be nearby whenever Cary and he would converse. He became further concerned when he caught her skulking behind the staircase which led to the tunnels below the Abbey. According to one of his comments to us, when he confronted the woman, accusing her of secretly eavesdropping, she repeatedly denied such actions vehemently, attributing it to mere coincidence.
Treachery in Torquay Page 23