Treachery in Torquay

by Lawler, W. P. ;

  I sensed that Randolph began to shadow the housekeeper. Ever careful to avoid being seen, the butler learned of the many secret passageways that existed below the family home.”

  When Holmes briefly paused his explanation, I found that I simply had to interject, “Holmes, why didn’t Randolph disclose this information to us? Surely, it would have saved us a great deal of wasted effort, not to mention the danger in which we were placed.”

  “Watson,” Holmes smiled at my comment, then asked, “do you remember when we interviewed Randolph? Do you recall me asking him if he could tell us anything that might help us in our investigation?”

  “Why, yes, Holmes,” I responded, “I didn’t realize that he knew more at the time.”

  “Well, my good friend,” Holmes continued, “I distinctly remember his response. Don’t you recall him saying, ‘I would like to help you, gentlemen, but I can’t’.”

  The look on my face betrayed my confusion, I began to spew forth gibberish, “Well, er, oh, I believe so...”

  “Watson,” Holmes began to chuckle. “What a dunderhead I was. Randolph was giving us a clue after all. When he said ‘can’t’ he was referring to Kent, as in Kents Cavern.”

  “Oh, I see now,” I bowed in embarrassment, continuing, “so that’s why you became so interested in the caves.”

  “Of course,” Holmes replied, adding, “Watson, don’t you see that with Bedlam always within earshot, the butler had to be careful not to put Cary and his family at risk. If Lucretia Bedlam heard Randolph actually tell us where to look, she could certainly have done grave harm to the Cary family.”

  Holmes was in the process of finishing his remarks as our carriage entered the grounds of the old Abbey. We imagined that we would run into the brigands removing their treasures out through the rear entrance of the lower levels of the estate. Holmes believed that they would store their findings near the old catacombs. Our revolvers were at the ready, fully loaded, as we moved ever closer to the Spanish Barn.

  “Hello, Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson,” came a most familiar voice.

  I was about to empty a round into the shadows from whence the voice came, when Holmes calmly said, “Relax, Watson. All is well! Our work is done here, my friend.”

  Putting his weapon away, the world’s greatest consulting detective reached into the darkness and offered, “Chief Inspector Davis, so nice of you to drop by... Did you get to meet the lovely Lucretia Bedlam?”

  Both men shared a laugh while I nervously scratched my noggin, offering, “Gentlemen, what is the meaning of this? We should be on about our business with these dangerous killers on the loose. Someone else might be being murdered!”

  “Shall I tell him, Holmes?” the Chief Inspector offered.

  Holmes nodded to the law official, stating, “Davis, please educate the good Doctor...”

  What followed was Chief Inspector Davis’s summary of the afternoon’s events. Briefly, he said that he was informed by Mr. Holmes that a major crime was to commence on the afternoon of December 22nd, the date of the winter solstice. Mr. Holmes had further suggested that the Chief Inspector should surround the Torre Abbey grounds and be ready to arrest all of the individuals who would be seen carrying bags or boxes from either the main building or the Spanish Barn.

  Davis was urged to bring a large number of constables with him, and to be ready for any possible altercations coming from the suspects. He was informed that particular attention should be given to a certain Lucretia Bedlam, whom Holmes had believed to have been one of the ringleaders of the operation. She and the Druid leader known as Terra were to be interrogated as to the threats made to Mr. James Cary, owner of Torre Abbey.

  As it turned out, Davis followed Holmes’s plans to the letter, resulting in the arrest of one of the most dangerous crime organizations in England and, indeed, the entire European continent.

  Having listened to Davis’s description of the day’s events, I was greatly mystified. I had to admit that I was totally unprepared for such a resolution to the threats that had terrorized the Carys over these past several months.

  I turned to my friend, “Holmes, I must say that I am greatly relieved by what has recently transpired, but I still don’t understand the need for the killings. Why did those people need to be killed?”

  Before I could get an answer from him, a wagon pulled up to the Torre Abbey household. It was now completely dark except for the lanterns that adorned both sides of the main entrance. The light cast by these devices was bright enough for us to identify Mr. James Cary accompanied by Wiggins and Mr. Bobo Roberts.

  Upon seeing us, they cheered loudly. “Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson, we’re so glad to see you are safe.”

  Quickly, they hopped down from the carriage and made their way over to us. Cary also walked over and he was the first one to talk.

  “Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson, words cannot describe my gratitude for what you’ve done for me and my family. I knew not where to turn. I knew not what to do.” Clearly, he was speaking from the heart.

  “As a matter of fact, had I not taken a look at my daughter’s copy of “The Sign of the Four”, I don’t know what I would have done,” Cary admitted. “It got me thinking that here was a man for my situation!”

  “By Jove,” he continued, “you both proved worthy of your outstanding reputations.”

  “Ah, thank you, Mr. Cary,” I bowed, continuing, “but you should also be thanking your own village constable, Chief Inspector Miles Davis, and the newest members of our crime-fighting fraternity, Mr. Bill Wiggins and Mr. Bob-O Roberts.”

  Cary shook his head in approval and was about to continue praising those gentlemen when Mr. Roberts spoke out.

  “Ah,” Bobo Roberts felt the need to speak. “Dr. Watson, it’s Bo-Bo...Bo-Bo...”

  “Damn it all,” I suddenly blurted out loud. “For the life of me I can’t ever remember how to say your name! Please excuse my outburst, Bobo. Also, Mr. Cary, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Of course, doctor,” Cary replied, and once more facing the other three men and issued, “Gentlemen, thank you one and all. I can assure you that I am eternally grateful for your work in protecting me and my family. Please be assured that I am at your disposal if ever you need my counsel. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to the needs of my family.”

  We must have looked as weary as we felt, for when Chief Inspector Davis suggested we join him for a pint, he was quickly taken up on his kind offer. Our group agreed to meet later that evening at 7:45 PM at an establishment called Davey Jones Inn. Holmes and I received transportation back to the Imperial Hotel from one of Chief Inspector Davis’s constables and it wasn’t long before we were back in a hotel landau heading for our rendezvous. As the drinks and steamed cod were being served, a conversation started up in a most peculiar manner.

  “Say, Mr. Holmes,” Wiggins began, “we’ve all been so busy the last several hours, I forgot to tell you what Bobo and I were able to discover after we split up on the Daddyhole plain.”

  Holmes just looked at him for a moment and then, inquired, “Ah, Wiggins, please excuse me for my lapse of concentration. I’m afraid that it skipped my mind completely due to the day’s excitement. Pray tell us all about your findings.”

  “Wait just a minute,” Bobo suddenly spoke out, “Wiggins, I think we should warn Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson, that what you’re about to tell them might perhaps, serve to diminish their excellent day’s success.”

  That brought everyone to attention with Holmes, now very much interested, inquiring, “Oh, my, you two are about to tell us about your run in with the Reverend David Prentiss, are you not?”

  You could have heard the proverbial pin drop when Holmes made that remark. Chief Inspector Davis was as mystified by Holmes’s comment as were Wiggins and Bobo. All exchanged glances with each other wondering how Hol
mes could have found out about their remarkable good fortune.

  “Hold on now,” Wiggins started, “Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson, how could you have learned about our meeting with the Vicar? Why it was only Bobo and me that had the experience. We only just confided the event with Chief Inspector Davis, for proper legal enforcement procedures.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was observing. Holmes and I had been together all day long. I didn’t know how in the world he could have learned about the activity of Wiggins, Bobo and the Vicar, whatever it was.

  Holmes was now smiling broadly, laughing his haughty laugh, the laugh usually reserved for those with whom he was jousting.

  “All right, Mr. Holmes,” Bobo teased, “if you think you know what happened to us this afternoon, please go ahead and tell us. But, be sure you tell us how you learned of these exploits.”

  I must say that I always looked forward to others experiencing Holmes’s unusual deductive skills. Tonight promised to be one of those moments!

  “If you insist, gentlemen,” Holmes replied in a very deliberate manner and then he began his explanation.

  “Wiggins, when you and Bobo arrived back at Torre Abbey with Mr. Cary, I sensed from your smiling faces that something wonderful must have occurred that afternoon. When you learned of Doctor Watson, Chief Inspector Davis and my accounting of the capture of Terra and Bedlam, along with their thugs, there seemed to have been very little interest on your parts. Oh, you both congratulated our success, but I would have expected much, much more in the way you reacted.

  Hmmm... what could that mean? Only one thing, one thing as far as I could determine. The Wiggins-Roberts duo must have achieved something far better. Now, what could be more important, more meaningful than removing a large, dangerous bunch of international thieves from the streets of Torquay, England?

  Well, now it becomes rather simple to deduce that some how, some way, the person or persons who murdered Torquay’s four councilmen has or have been captured. Certainly, that would be something to crow about, wouldn’t it?

  Congratulations are definitely in order, Wiggins and Bobo... Great work!”

  The looks on our companion’s faces indicated how fascinated they were at Holmes’s commentary, and soon, could be heard some muffled laughter.

  When he had finished, I again thought of how simple he always made it seem. It always seems simple when the magician shows how “leger de la main” is unmasked for all to understand. Still, it continues to boggle one’s mind.

  But Holmes was not finished...

  “Gentlemen, if you will continue to indulge me for a few minutes more,” offered my partner, “I will endeavor to describe how this capture came about.”

  “I, for one, cannot wait to hear your depiction,” spoke Mr. Roberts, who appeared slightly put off by Holmes’s apparent braggadocio.

  “When Watson and I last saw you, Bobo,” Holmes continued, “you and Wiggins had blended into the crowd of singing, dancing Druids. At that point, Doctor Watson and I headed down into the caves. So, what I am able to tell you about the capture and successful arrest of Vicar Prentiss may seem like a lucky guess or some mystical ability, but let me assure you it was neither.

  I believe that while the two of you were pressing through the crowd, looking for the antlered leader, Terra, you saw Vicar Prentiss and decided to follow him for a while. Having witnessed some of his peculiar actions earlier in our investigations, it would seem logical to trail him and see what he was up to. Now, somewhere along the way, you must have witnessed him doing something strange, something out of the ordinary that captured your interest. My theory is that Prentiss had been following someone, and after accosting that person, forcibly led that person down the pathway to the shoreline below Daddyhole Plain.

  The two of you, fearing the worst, confronted the evil Prentiss who was about to claim another victim of his blood lust. A fierce struggle ensued, and the two of you were able to subdue and arrest Vicar David Prentiss, the serial killer of Torquay.”

  Bobo, unable to control his emotions, raised his voice, “Mr. Holmes, you had to have been there to describe the event so accurately! Or, else, someone who had witnessed our actions reported back to you. That’s the only way you could have known what actually happened!”

  Holmes, smiling as he added his favorite blend to his briar, responded calmly, “So it would seem, Bobo, so it would seem. But, alas, you are wrong... “

  “I will continue,” my friend offered to all of us. “Mr. Roberts, when you and Wiggins approached us at Torre Abbey, I could not help but see sand in the folds of your partially soaked pant cuffs. Your shirt was badly torn, and the fresh scent of Channel fish was, dare I suggest, quite telling! Wiggins’s coat likewise showed signs of wear, and clearly, fabric tears and pulls were most noticeable. From those clues, I deduced a mighty struggle.”

  At that point, a very audible silence was most apparent in our group as Davis, Roberts and Wiggins all reviewed what Holmes had logically put forth.

  Suddenly, we all began to laugh with unbridled delight at what had just occurred.

  “Holmes,” spoke the law officer with great affection, “that was incredible. I had heard of your skills and read about them through the efforts of Doctor Watson’s writings, but I have to say that to witness them, firsthand, is particularly satisfying. I applaud you, sir, and I will never forget what I’ve just seen and heard.”

  “You know, Mr. Holmes, I am also stunned by what I’ve heard,” Bobo Roberts expressed with deep admiration. “Wiggins had shared many of his experiences with you and the good Doctor, but they seemed difficult to fathom. Now, having witnessed your skills, personally, I will never doubt your worth.”

  Wiggins just bowed in silent agreement with his detective partner. I, for my part, smiled contentedly, happy that others had been privy to some of the skills that I had seen over so many years and so many adventures.

  Holmes sat at the table, his smoke filling the tiny pub, quietly relishing the laudatory comments that had been put forth.

  “So,” he inquired, “while you gentlemen were impressed by my mere ability to put puzzle pieces together, I have to admit that I’d really like to hear about Prentiss.”

  “Perhaps, tomorrow gentlemen,” suggested Chief Inspector Davis. “I would like all of you to meet me at Torre Abbey at 10:00 AM.”

  All Is Explained

  December 23rd

  The “Spanish” Barn at Torre Abbey

  At 10:00 AM, Sherlock Holmes and I once again entered the main hall of Torre Abbey. The building was very much alive now that the Cary family and full staff had returned to their stately home. It was so good to hear little feet running up and down the polished stairway, doing what children are expected to be doing. Randolph smiled broadly, as he welcomed us back. These were once more happy times in the Cary household, and this was how it should always be.

  After a warm greeting, we were quickly ushered into Mr. Cary’s comfortable study. There were smiles all around the huge conference table and we quickly joined our friends.

  “Well,” joked the Chief Inspector, “I’m glad to see all of you are here on time. As you are about to learn, there are many, many loose ends that need to be tied up and I’m certain that all of us have questions that still need to be answered. Who would like to begin?”

  It came as no surprise to anyone that Holmes stood up, offering, “Why don’t I start?”

  “Gentlemen,” he paused dramatically, “like the rest of you, I want this case to be closed as soon as possible. It has been a busy several days for some of us, and sadly, weeks and months for a few more of you.”

  “And so,” he continued, “I would like to answer the first question which I will also take the liberty of posing.”

  All of our party found Holmes’s clever comment most amusing and bade him continue.

  �
��Now I’m sure that many of you are curious about Lucretia Bedlam,” he paused briefly. “Well, there is much to learn about this woman. Who she is? From whence she came? How did she become a member of the Cary household?”

  “Certainly, we’re all in agreement that she was a miserable scoundrel, though I hate to make that type of a remark about a person of the fairer gender. But we need to know more...” Holmes stopped again to strike a match to his ever-present pipe.

  “Here is what I’ve learned about the woman, Lucretia Bedlam,” Holmes began, having set the stage for his report.

  “When the threatening note first arrived at the Cary household, it was believed by all to have come from the same person or persons who had been executing the councilmen. Mr. Cary and the rest of us were unsure from whence it had come, but the message was certainly clear enough. The Cary family, because of Mr. Cary’s position on the Torquayian town council, was now in real danger. Like any caring individual whose family had been placed in harm’s way, Mr. Cary moved his loved ones out to their country home, purportedly for the purpose of spending time with other family members, but in actual reality, for their own protection.

  We found out later, that Mrs. Bedlam had written the letter. She did so to make it easier for her gang to search for a treasure she believed to have been hidden somewhere on the vast Torre Abbey grounds.

  Bedlam, we later discovered, had been a devout member of the Premonstratensian Order and had been residing in Paris. While there, living the monastic life, she realized that she had lost her calling. Leaving the abbey, she set out to find another career. Soon thereafter, Bedlam began to spend time in the company of some shady characters. Sadly, she became enamored of their decadent lifestyles and quickly gained favor, rising in their ranks to become the leader of a notorious band of brigands known as the Grenadier mob. For years that group terrorized France and many other European countries, specializing in bank robberies and extortion. Interesting to note, her gang has not yet been implicated in any murders, though I’ve only been able to make the most rudimentary inquiries.