Treachery in Torquay

by Lawler, W. P. ;

  She must have learned about Torre Abbey and the story of the Spanish treasure while still serving at the Parisian Abbey of St. Norbert. While there, it is reasonable to conclude that she probably came across historical records dating back to when Torre Abbey was still operating under the Premonstratensians. Surely, she must have found a crude map of some sort which made reference to the hidden location of the silver bullion lost during the capture of the Spanish ship, Nuestra Senora del Rosario, in 1588.

  An aside, gentlemen, if you wouldn’t mind, Doctor Watson and I had discussed this very interesting historical event on our way to Torquay. According to local history of this region, the Spanish vessel had sailed near the coast of Falmouth, initially avoiding notice by the British fleet. Word came from Spanish spies that the Nuestra would soon be discovered, and its capture would mean British seizure of the huge amount of silver in its hold. Under cover of darkness, the Nuestra slipped by the British fleet near Torquay, and sent a landing party ashore to carry the bullion and bury it in a hidden cave, called Caverna del Diablo, and there, it was believed, the treasure was buried.

  Legend has it, that soon after, the vessel entered battle. Despite valiant efforts, it was captured by the British fleet and the entire crew of the Nuestra was remanded to a tithe-barn belonging to the Torre Abbey estate. There, for fourteen days, the imprisoned sailors languished in crowded quarters, many eventually succumbing to the terrible conditions. It was believed that one of the Spaniards, who had been a member of the landing party, escaped from the barn, and somehow made his way back to the location of the treasure. With him went the actual location of the silver, its whereabouts unknown, until Mrs. Bedlam found the map.

  Once she had it in her possession, the Cary’s new housekeeper fixated on finding the treasure, planning a strategy that might give her and her band access to the Cary estate and the entire grounds of Torre Abbey. She sensed that there must have been some type of underground passageway to the Cavern of the Devil.

  All she lacked initially was the opportunity to search for the bullion, unencumbered by people who would, naturally, become aware of her actions. If she could only find a way!

  Fortunately for her, as we have learned, Mr. Cary had advertised for additional personnel to staff his large estate. And so it was that Lucretia Bedlam approached Mr. James Cary with a forged letter of recommendation that supposedly came from one of Cary’s former associates who had recently moved to Paris.

  Of course we all realize that Bedlam had received an excellent education while serving as a postulant in the Premonstratensian abbey in Paris. She easily gained Mr. Cary’s approval and confidence. It only became a matter of time for her to hatch her plot to gain total control of Mr. Cary and the entire estate.”

  All eyes turned to James Cary when Holmes had completed his background information on the infamous Bedlam.

  “Mr. Holmes has done well in articulating the doings of that Bedlam woman,” Cary whined. “I am ashamed of the way that I handled my predicament. I feared for the safety of my family, and so, with the help of my good friend, my valued butler, Mr. Malcolm Randolph, we agreed to virtually every request she made of us.”

  “No one here would have done anything other than what you were forced to do,” Chief Inspector Davis spoke, trying to assuage the guilt that Cary must have been feeling.

  Cary thanked the lawman and continued, “Mr. Holmes, as you probably discovered when you arrived here, Bedlam never suspected that I had contacted you about the threatening note. However, with your sudden appearance at Torre Abbey she realized that I had asked for your help. Subsequently, her threats to me and my family became ever more vile. Randolph wanted to help you, but he couldn’t risk what could happen to my family.”

  “I understand fully and you had every reason to trust him,” Holmes added, “he had a great responsibility resting upon his shoulders and he handled himself properly.”

  “What can any of you tell me about this Druid, Terra?” the Chief Inspector voiced.

  “Ah, Terra,” sighed Wiggins, “I can tell you a few things about the man, but I’ve a feeling Mr. Holmes and the good Doctor Watson will be able to fill in any of the items I may skip.”

  And so Wiggins began his informative narration.

  “Well, when we were first contacted by Mr. Holmes, he invited us to help with an investigation he was soon about to conduct. Early on, he suggested that Bobo and me take a trip to a Druid encampment a few miles out of Torquay. There had been much talk about these strange people and their ways and many of the town’s inhabitants began to associate the murders that had been committed over the last several months with them. As we all came to learn, the weapons used included many of the devices utilized by the followers of Druidism. You know, the noose known as a laqueus and the like. Also, druid signs like triskels, awens, torcs and sigils began to appear near each of the killings.

  Anyway, we reported what we had observed to Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson. Soon it became evident to us that someone wanted the Druids to take the blame for the murders. From what Bobo and I had seen, the tribe seemed like a harmless group of lost souls, looking for something they could see and believe in. The leader, Terra, did not pose any threat to anyone, at least as far as we could tell. Still, there was something going on out there that was a little disturbing. For instance, the entire Druid settlement had guards all about their village. We saw no reason for that, but it was a new experience for all of us. We could only judge by what we observed.

  Bobo and I did observe several among them searching the grounds, apparently keeping an eye out. I remember asking one of their folk what they were seeking and he pulled out some strange looking coin. He explained that this entire area had been colonized by the ancient Romans, hundreds of years ago. Members of this Druid community had found some of these golden coins here and there and they said that their leader, this Terra, sent them all over the southerly coast to look for more of the coins.

  Well, Bobo and I reported what we witnessed and Mr. Holmes seemed very interested. It wasn’t two days later that we received a brief message from Mr. Holmes. We were advised to keep an eye on the sect, and that Mr. Holmes had learned that the area had, indeed, served as a Roman outpost during the reign of Hadrian, the ruler responsible for the construction of the famous wall that divided England for many, many years.

  Holmes further informed us that the cult leader was certainly no fool. It would have been easy for a man of his purpose and intellect to determine that the abbot of Torre Abbey and his friars might have discovered a repository for the Roman golden coins on or about the surrounds of the abbey.

  In conclusion, the last time we were in contact with any of the Druids was yesterday when we became involved in the solstice celebration.”

  Bobo was the next to speak out, “Mr. Holmes, have you any idea how Bedlam and the Druid leader came to work together?”

  Holmes looked over at me and offered, “Watson, why don’t you field this interrogative?”

  I was glad to have been invited to share my knowledge of the situation, which had been greatly clarified after a recent talk with Holmes.

  “Certainly, Bo-Bo,” I teased, for I had finally gotten his name correct. “Holmes and I analyzed the strange alliance over several conversations and we agreed that their collaboration was one of those bizarre serendipitous events that one hears about from time to time. Did we believe that the two search parties were searching for two different commodities? Yes, at least at first.

  The Druids, upon finding the cave at Daddyhole, entered the caves for the expressed purpose of finding ancient Roman gold coins, which were supposedly buried beneath the bones of an ancient cave bear. Bedlam, as you already have learned, sought the Spanish silver bullion from the Nuestra.

  Was it possible that one of the two treasure hunting parties may have passed through the cave tunnels without knowing another group was al
so searching in the same locale?

  Holmes and I agreed that it could only have been an extremely remote possibility for that condition to have existed. The laws of probability would dictate that the two groups had to have discovered each other. At that point, the two leaders decided that it made more sense to work together rather than become embroiled in a knock-down, drag-out altercation. Both groups had become aware that they were being watched and knew that time was running out on them. Additionally, working together, both gangs would be able to work harder and faster, and so, share two treasures instead of one!

  Our theories on the matter proved to be correct as you know, for when both parties were captured as they emerged from Torre Abbey, they were all working together.”

  “Gentlemen,” Davis responded with modest gratitude, “it was only through your careful investigative skills that our lawmen were able to make those arrests.”

  “That leaves us with one last mystery,” Holmes stated, looking directly at Wiggins and Roberts. “Would you detectives please provide us with the details as to how you were able to capture the person responsible for terrorizing the peaceful little community of Torquay?”

  Bobo smiled and turning to his partner, Wiggins, suggested, “Wiggy, why don’t you present the details of our adventure?”

  “Certainly, Bobo,” the tall quiet Baker Street Irregular replied. “I’ll try my best to tell the story exactly the way it happened.”

  “As you correctly surmised, Mr. Holmes, Bobo and I were very active in our search among the Druid celebrants on Daddyhole Plain. We followed your advice looking for an antlered individual, Terra, whom we believed would certainly be conducting the solstice rituals for his devoted followers. I must tell you we were both very uncomfortable moving through the noisy gathering, many of whom were well-along on the road to the land of drunken stupor.

  At any rate, the crowded revelers made it most difficult to observe the goings-on, but good fortune was with us, for a path opened up leading to the edge of the cliff overlooking the Channel. Bobo and I began to walk along that pathway to take a rest from the pushing and shoving that we had been experiencing as we searched the crowd. We paused along the precipice and scanned the horizon, enjoying the marvelous view out to sea from such a favorable vantage point.

  While there, Bobo pointed out two individuals walking down the steep path to the beach below. At first, we thought nothing of it as they reached the rocky shore. Suddenly, we witnessed one of the men push the other and a fight broke out. Ordinarily, we would have ignored such actions, for arguments are frequently settled with fisticuffs, but for some reason, we sensed that this brawl could lead to serious consequences.

  We charged down the trail, yelling and screaming in an effort to stop the fight before any serious damage could occur. Fortunately, both men saw us approaching and the fighting abruptly stopped. As we were nearing the site, suddenly one of the individuals picked up a good-sized rock and hit the other man on the side of the face, knocking him to the ground. Immediately, I took after the scoundrel while Bobo tried to help the felled man.

  After a brief chase, I was able to tackle the individual who began to put up a hell of a fight. He reached in his coat pocket and tried to slip a laqueus over my head. Blocking his effort with my left hand, I quickly landed a solid left to his chin and the fight was over.

  Imagine my surprise, gentlemen, when I recognized that the face I had newly punched, belonged to none other than Vicar David Prentiss!

  I quickly secured his hands and arms with the very weapon he had tried to use on me and I also located additional cord in his winter coat. While he was still unconscious, I searched his pockets and found an ancient dagger, torcs and other Druid signs and paraphernalia. I wondered if Prentiss was somehow involved in the series of murders of the town’s councilmen. Could this be the one? It certainly would call for an investigation of some kind, for Bobo and I could certainly attest to having witnessed an attempted murder.

  The gentleman whom Prentiss assaulted seemed to be recovering, but the rock had left a deep gash below his left eye that would surely require medical attention. After Prentiss had regained consciousness, the four of us made our way to the top of the cliff where two constables were located. They cuffed Prentiss and led him back to police headquarters. Bobo and I were required to accompany the prisoner to submit statements as to what had taken place. The injured man, we learned, was yet another Torquay councilman by the name of Donald Dunhill. After some minor attention at the local infirmary, he too appeared at the station where formal charges were made against Vicar Prentiss.

  “Well done, men,” Chief Inspector Davis congratulated Bobo and Wiggins, adding, “I’ll finish the rest of the story of Vicar Prentiss.”

  “Immediately after Prentiss had been charged,” Davis began, “our officers obtained a court order allowing them to search the vicar’s properties. It became readily apparent after examining all of the Druid tools, weapons, symbolic artifacts, etc. found there, that Prentiss had somehow been trying to influence public distrust of the Druid cult. Upon further examination, and it didn’t take long, Prentiss was placed under arrest for the murders of the four councilmen and attempted murder of the fifth.

  Yesterday afternoon, before Wiggins, Roberts, and Cary arrived at Torre Abbey, David Prentiss pleaded guilty to all of the murders of the councilmen. He also identified his fellow conspirators who are currently still at-large.”

  “Gentlemen,” the Chief Inspector voiced as he slowly rose from his chair, “I wish to thank you, one and all, for your roles in bringing these tragic events to a sound conclusion. Mr. Cary, we’re glad to have you and your family, safe and sound back at Torre Abbey. Mr. Wiggins and Mr. Roberts, let me say that it has been a real pleasure making your acquaintances and I must commend you both on your fine investigative efforts. I’m sure you both will have excellent careers.”

  “Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson,” he addressed them with great respect, extending his hand, “I cannot say enough about the incredible skills you both have displayed in your efforts to help solve these crimes. Like many residents of our fine country who have heard and read about your many successful adventures, I, too, am duly impressed by what I have witnessed and learned.”

  Holmes thanked the lawman for the kind words and added, “Chief Inspector, your modesty obviously prevents you from saying it, but I would like you to know that I believe your town is extremely fortunate to have such a dedicated, competent detective in charge of peace-keeping. Your professionalism has been on display in all of our dealings with you and it is no wonder that we were successful in bringing those criminals to trial. On behalf of Mr. Wiggins, Mr. Roberts, Doctor Watson, and me, I wish to congratulate you on your handling of these investigations.”

  After shaking their hands and bidding all a good day, the Chief Inspector left the room and headed back to his office. Wiggins and Roberts were still smiling broadly and would soon be taking their leave. It had been a most successful conclusion to their first investigation.

  Holmes and I slowly walked into the wide hallway in time to see Mr. Cary re-entering the building. “Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson,” he began, reaching into his pocket, “here is payment for your outstanding work. I trust that you will find it suitable.”

  Holmes never even glanced at the envelope as he placed it in his pocket, issuing, “Mr. Cary, I have no doubt that your generosity will be most acceptable to Doctor Watson and me; furthermore, I wish to thank you for...”

  My friend stopped mid-sentence at the sudden appearance of two young ladies who were making their way down the Cary home’s majestic staircase.

  “Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson,” the young girl spoke most cordially, “I would like to introduce you both to my best friend, Miss Margaret Cary.”

  “We are delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Cary,” Holmes politely offered. “Miss Miller has told us so much abou
t you and how much she values your friendship.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” the young Cary girl replied, mildly blushing at the compliment.

  I couldn’t miss the opportunity to add, “Yes, Miss Margaret, Aggie had only the most wonderful things to say about her favorite friend.”

  “It was nice meeting you,” I added, “but I’m afraid that we can’t spend more time chatting. You see, Mr. Holmes and I have a carriage waiting and we must hurry if we are to catch our train at Exeter.”

  “Sadly, Doctor Watson is correct,” Holmes offered, “we are on a schedule and it must be followed.”

  “Miss Cary,” he continued, “would you please excuse Miss Miller for a few minutes?”

  “Of course, Mr. Holmes, the young Margaret Cary replied, turning to Aggie, “Aggie, I’ll be in the pantry with Mr. Randolph.”

  “Aggie,” Holmes suggested, “can we talk? How about the library?”

  All three of us entered the spacious room and sat in three of the most comfortable wing-chairs I had ever enjoyed.

  “Before you begin,” Miss Miller started, “I am sorry that my part in this adventure ended the way it did. I was careless when I thought I could spy on those horrible criminals without being caught. I know that you and Doctor Watson had given me plenty of warnings about my level of involvement, and I disobeyed you, time and time again. I should have known better and there is absolutely no excuse for the way I behaved, especially, the way I put you and Doctor Watson in great danger. If something had happened to me, that would have been tragic, but I now know how much pain it would have caused you both, had something happened to me. Please forgive me!”

  There was silence in that room and, for possibly the first time, my friend seemed at a loss for words.

  Finally, he spoke, “Aggie, there are any number of things you need to hear from me and the good doctor, but I’ll not tarnish your emotional apology with additional admonitions. I believe that this last episode may have been all that needed to happen. Please thank your wonderful mother for allowing us to get to know you both and for permitting us to have the pleasure of working alongside one of the finest young detectives I know.”